{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_33433/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_33433","id":"gutenberg_33433","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/33433","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Historical Novels","Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Historical fiction","Indians of North America -- Fiction","Mexico -- History -- Conquest, 1519-1540 -- Fiction"],"text":"Produced by Julia Miller, Rachael Schultz and the Online\nDistributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n                      Transcriber's Note\n\n    In the original text, verses in the chapter headings\n    were typeset in Gothic font; they are displayed below\n    ~like this~. Footnotes are indicated within the text by\n    a capital letter in brackets (e.g., [A]) and are located\n    at the end of their respective chapter. Punctuation has\n    been standardized. For details on typographical\n    corrections, please refer to the note at the end of the\n    text.\n\n\n\n\n                 AMERICAN TABLEAUX,\n\n                       No. 1.\n\n\n\n\n                      SKETCHES\n\n                         OF\n\n                   ABORIGINAL LIFE.\n\n\n         'Tis like a dream, when one awakes,--\n           These visions of the scenes of old;\n         'Tis like the moon, when morning breaks;\n           'Tis like a tale round watch-fires told.\n\n\n                    By V. V. VIDE.\n\n\n                      NEW-YORK:\n            PUBLISHED BY BUCKLAND & SUMNER,\n                    79 JOHN-STREET.\n                        1846.\n\n\n\n\n         Entered according to Act of Congress,\n                 in the year 1846, by\n                  BUCKLAND & SUMNER,\n     in the Clerk's office of the District Court\n              of the United States, for\n          the Southern District of New York.\n\n            Stereotyped by Vincent L. Dill,\n          128 Fulton st. Sun Building, N. Y.\n\n  C. A. Alvord, Printer, Cor. of John and Dutch sts.\n\n\n\n\nPREFACE.\n\n\nThe American Tableaux lay no claim to the respect and confidence, which\nis justly shown to authentic history; nor do they anticipate the ready\nfavor usually accorded to high wrought romance. They are neither the one\nnor the other. The general outline is designed to be historical, and\ntrue to the characters of individuals, and the customs of nations and\ntribes; and the drapery in which it is arrayed is intended rather to\nillustrate the truth, and place it in bolder relief, than to weaken its\nforce by irrelevant inventions. It is proposed rather to shade and color\nthe naked sketches of history, and restore them to their natural setting\nand accompaniments, than to alter or distort them. The characters of\nhistory are usually stiff, cold, and statue-like, and their drapery, if\nthey have any, is of the same marble rigidity with themselves. The\nTableaux would transfer them to canvass in their natural colors,\nstrongly relieved by a back-ground of familiar scenery and every day\nassociations, and shaded or lightened, as the case may be, by the\nsorrows or joys of social life, and the cares or honors of public\nstation. It may be presumptuous to hope that all this has been\naccomplished. It is safer to say, it has been attempted.\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS.\n\n\n\n\nTHE AZTEC PRINCESS.\n\n\nCHAPTER I.\n                                                                   PAGE\n  BIRTH AND EARLY LIFE OF TECUICHPO.                                15\n\n  The Horoscope--Faith in the revelations of\n    Astrology--Montezuma in his palace--The message\n    delivered--Resignation--Fatalism--Infancy of the\n    Princess--The slave Karee--Obtains her freedom--The\n    Chinampa--Genius and faith of Karee--Her devotion to the\n    Princess--Chivalry of the Aztecs.\n\n\nCHAPTER II.\n\n  YOUTH OF THE PRINCESS--HER EARLY LOVE REVEALED--PROPHETIC\n    ANNOUNCEMENT, AND SUDDEN ARRIVAL OF THE SPANIARDS.              27\n\n  Superstitious forebodings of Montezuma--Loveliness of his\n    daughter--Her suitors--The Prince of\n    Tezcuco--Karee-o-than--A secret\n    revealed--Guatimozin--The ancient legend--The young\n    Pythoness--Her vision--Warning and appeal--The vision\n    realized--The pictured scroll--Agitation of Montezuma--A\n    second courier--The royal council--Courtesy to the\n    strangers--Splendid embassy--Their meeting with\n    Cortez--Munificent presents--Avarice of the\n    Spaniards--They make interest with the Totonacs, and\n    send proposals to Tlascala--Their proposal\n    rejected--They meet and conquer the Tlascalans--An\n    alliance formed--The compeers of\n    Cortez--Xicotencatl--The strength and weakness of the\n    Aztecs.\n\n\nCHAPTER III.\n\n  SUPERSTITIOUS FEARS AND VACILLATING POLICY OF MONTEZUMA.          45\n\n  Frequent embassies and rich presents to the\n    Spaniards--Montezuma, fearing to act openly, plots their\n    destruction secretly--Cortez cautioned by the\n    Tlascalans--His prudence and strict\n    discipline--Cuitlahua urges Montezuma to bold decided\n    measures--Scene in the royal garden--Mysterious\n    chant--Warning--Its effect--Montezuma roused to\n    action--Energy of Cuitlahua--The army in motion to repel\n    the enemy--Confident of victory--The monarch changes his\n    plan--A stratagem--Cholula--The army arrested in its\n    march--The Spaniards in Cholula--Hospitable\n    reception--Sudden change--Suspicion of\n    treachery--Perilous position and bold bearing of\n    Cortez--His demand upon the Cholulan princes--Charges\n    them with conspiracy--Their alarm and apology--Terrible\n    massacre--Conflict on the great Teocalli--The Spaniards\n    victorious--Painful position of Cuitlahua and his\n    army--Tlascalans in Cholula.\n\n\nCHAPTER IV.\n\n  AGITATIONS IN THE CAPITAL--THE ROYAL HOUSEHOLD--THE\n    SPANIARDS STEADILY ADVANCING.                                   65\n\n  Montezuma's duplicity--Shuts himself up in\n    despair--Divided counsels--Mistaken policy--Triumphant\n    advance of Cortez--His ambitious views--His military\n    caution--Montezuma in his family--His youngest\n    daughter--Her loveliness--Her clouded destiny--The royal\n    household--A family scene--A dark superstition versus a\n    cheerful faith--Excursion on the lake--The royal\n    cortege--The Princess--Guatimozin--The dream and its\n    echo--Prophecy--Signal and sudden return--Preparation to\n    receive the Spaniards--Cacama's embassy to\n    Cortez--Exchange of courtesies--Reception of the\n    strangers at Iztapalapan--Lofty bearing of\n    Cuitlahua--The Capital and its environs.\n\n\nCHAPTER V.\n\n  ARRIVAL OF THE SPANIARDS AT THE CAPITAL--THEIR RECEPTION\n    BY MONTEZUMA--DETERMINED HOSTILITY OF GUATIMOZIN.               81\n\n  Singular relative position of the Spaniard and the\n    Aztec--The power and timidity of the one, and the danger\n    and boldness of the other--Speculation--Cortez\n    advancing--The Grand Causeway--The Fort of Xoloc--The\n    Emperor's retinue--Abject deference of his\n    lords--Magnificent palanquin--His personal appearance\n    and costume--The reception--Exchange of\n    presents--Montezuma retires--Cuitlahua escorts the\n    Spaniards to their quarters--Their admiration on seeing\n    the splendor of the city--Curiosity of the people--The\n    omens of that day--Their influence upon\n    Montezuma--Guatimozin's true devotion to his\n    country--His interview with the Princess--True\n    interpretation of the omens--Filial devotion versus\n    patriotism--The pledge--A new omen--The parrot turned\n    prophet--Karee and her prediction--Extreme sensitiveness\n    of the Princess.\n\n\nCHAPTER VI.\n\n  MUNIFICENCE OF MONTEZUMA--THE ROYAL BANQUET--THE\n    REQUITAL--THE EMPEROR A PRISONER IN HIS OWN PALACE.             97\n\n  Grand military display by the Spaniards--The terror of the\n    Aztecs--Fearlessness and high purpose of Guatimozin and\n    others--The Banquet--The company--A contrast--The\n    strangers presented to the Queen--Her grace and\n    dignity--Beauty of the Aztec women--Awkward position of\n    the admiring Cavaliers--Their ingenuity in\n    pantomime--Readily matched by the Aztec--Sandoval and\n    the Princess--Cortez and Karee--Guatimozin and Cacama in\n    argument--The Princess interposes--Sternness of\n    Guatimozin--An incident--Orteguilla--Alvarado and the\n    Naiads--Metamorphosed into a flower-god--Pays homage to\n    the Princess--The feast--The true character of the\n    invaders--Bold movement of Cortez--Montezuma's blind\n    submission to fate--Voluntarily becomes a vassal to the\n    crown of Spain--A still bolder movement of\n    Cortez--Montezuma remonstrates, but yields, and becomes\n    a prisoner in the Spanish quarters--Indignation of the\n    nobles--Portentous omen--Distress in the palace--The\n    Princess expostulates with her father--The parting, and\n    the promised meeting--Guatimozin departs in disgust--His\n    interview with the Princess at Chapoltepec--Courageous\n    hopes--Oracle and omens--Timidity made bold by love.\n\n\nCHAPTER VII.\n\n  TREACHERY AND RETRIBUTION--MASSACRE OF THE AZTEC\n    NOBILITY--DEATH OF MONTEZUMA.                                  121\n\n  Cortez visits Vera Cruz--Alvarado in command in the\n    Capital--His character--The Aztec festival--Unprovoked\n    attack and massacre--The whole nation in arms for\n    revenge--Alvarado in imminent peril--Cortez returns--The\n    Aztecs threaten the entire destruction of the\n    Spaniards--Furious assault upon their\n    quarters--Desperate sortie--Implacable spirit of the\n    Aztecs--Their leaders--Cortez persuades Montezuma to\n    interpose--Cacama summoned to the royal presence--His\n    noble reply--The Princes' rendezvous--Guatimozin warned\n    of danger--His escape--Cacama and Cuitlahua\n    arrested--The latter released--Fresh assaults upon the\n    Spaniards--At the instigation of Cortez, Montezuma\n    appears and addresses the people--Their loyalty and\n    deference--Suddenly changed to uncontrollable rage--The\n    Emperor mortally wounded by his own people--A temporary\n    suspension of hostilities--Death of Montezuma--His\n    funeral obsequies.\n\n\nCHAPTER VIII.\n\n  BRIEF REIGN OF CUITLAHUA--EXPULSION OF THE\n    SPANIARDS--GUATIMOZIN CHOSEN EMPEROR--HIS MARRIAGE WITH\n    TECUICHPO.                                                     137\n\n  Cuitlahua elected to the vacant throne--His\n    resolution--Cortez, realizing his danger, resolves to\n    evacuate the city--Attempts to steal away in the\n    night--Assaulted on all sides by the Aztecs--Perils of\n    the retreat--Awful position on the Great\n    Causeway--Hemmed in on all sides--Terrible slaughter--A\n    remnant escape--Cortez in tears--Singular neglect of his\n    adversary--Activity of Cuitlahua--His sudden\n    death--Grief and despondency of the nation--Guatimozin\n    elected to his place--His activity and prudence--He\n    claims the hand of the Princess--Her timidity and her\n    devotion--Love finding the bright side of the\n    picture--The nuptial festival--Grand procession to the\n    Capital--A nation's welcome.\n\n\nCHAPTER IX.\n\n  FESTIVITIES AT THE COURT OF GUATIMOZIN--THE NEW HYMENEAL\n    VOW.                                                           151\n\n  Character of Guatimozin--His practical wisdom and\n    activity--Gaiety of the court--The young\n    Queen--Nahuitla, the Prince of Tlacopan--Atlacan, a\n    princess of Tezcuco--Her brother, Maxtli--Her\n    suitors--The Merchant of Cholula--Mercenary views of\n    Maxtli--Endeavors to thwart Nahuitla--How he is thwarted\n    himself--The betrothal--Sanctioned by the Emperor--The\n    nuptials--Polygamy abjured--A new Imperial\n    statute--Torch dance--Significant pantomime.\n\n\nCHAPTER X.\n\n  RETURN OF CORTEZ--SIEGE OF TENOCHTITLAN--BRAVERY AND\n    SUFFERINGS OF THE AZTECS.                                      161\n\n  Guatimozin prepares for a new invasion--Cortez approaches\n    with a new army--Orders vessels built at Tlascala--Takes\n    possession of Tezcuco--Makes liberal overtures to\n    Guatimozin--Rejected with scorn--Determined spirit of\n    Guatimozin--Success of Cortez in reducing some of the\n    smaller towns--Narrow escape at Iztalapatan--General\n    defection of the tributary cities--How accounted\n    for--The Spanish fleet on the Lake--Genius of\n    Cortez--Tenochtitlan invested--Preparations for the\n    siege--Spirit of the Aztecs--Their supplies cut off--The\n    Queen in her reverses--Famine--Distress in the\n    city--Love stronger than hunger--The famishing\n    fed--Desperation--an assault--an ambush--The tide of\n    battle suddenly turned--Perilous position and severe\n    loss of the Spaniards--Cortez narrowly\n    escapes--Disastrous retreat.\n\n\nCHAPTER XI.\n\n  STRAITNESS OF THE FAMINE--THE FINAL CONFLICT--FLIGHT AND\n    CAPTURE OF GUATIMOZIN--DESTINY FULFILLED.                      179\n\n  The Mexicans encouraged--Oracular declaration of the\n    priests--It fails to be fulfilled--Cortez resolves to\n    lay waste the city--A wide spread ruin--Terrible\n    sufferings of the besieged--Love and loyalty outliving\n    hope--Death preferred to submission--Nahuitla proposes a\n    plan of escape--Guatimozin rejects it, but is overruled\n    by the unanimous voice of his people--Prepares for\n    flight--The battle of the ghosts--The\n    retreat--Guatimozin on the lake--Pursued by the enemy--A\n    captive--Brought before Cortez--His noble spirit and\n    bearing--The Queen and the conqueror--Her destiny\n    fulfilled.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nTHE FLIGHT OF THE KATAHBA CHIEF.                                   193\n\n  The dream of Minaree, the young bride of Ash-te-o-lah--Its\n    effect upon the Chief--He goes to the chase--Power and\n    prosperity of the Katahbas--Beauty of their\n    villages--The wigwam of Ash-te-o-lah--The Chief in his\n    canoe--The deer--The foe--The chase--He turns upon his\n    pursuers--Slays seven of their number successively--Is\n    taken--Marched off as a captive--His boldness and\n    dignity--Arrives in the territories of his\n    enemies--Insulted and beaten by the women--Condemned to\n    the fiery torture--Led out to execution--Breaks away\n    and escapes--Pauses to defy his pursuers--Distances\n    them all--Stops to rest--Finds a place of\n    concealment--Plans the destruction of the pursuing\n    party--Succeeds--Returns home in triumph, laden with\n    trophies and spoils.\n\n\nMONICA--THE ITEAN CAPTIVE.                                         209\n\n  Reverence for the dead--Indian burial--The journey to the\n    Spirit land--The favorite dog killed--Food for\n    journey--Mementoes of the departed--The grave of an\n    infant boy--The Itean encampment--A sister's grief--Her\n    dream--She visits the grave by moonlight--Her\n    song--Enters a canoe and floats down the stream--A\n    captive, devoted to the \"Great Star\"--Pagan rite among\n    the Pawnees--Preparing for the sacrifice--Ignorant of\n    her fate--Gathering of the Pawnees to the festival--The\n    victim led to the stake--The terrible orgies\n    commence--Are suddenly interrupted--The captive\n    unbound--The flight--Parting with her deliverer--Meets\n    her friends--Reaches her home in safety--Petalesharro,\n    her deliverer--His person and character--Bloody rite\n    abolished.\n\n\nTHE HERMITESS OF ATHABASCA.                                        227\n\n  The wigwam of Kaf-ne-wah-go--His family--Tula, his only\n    daughter--O-ken-ah-ga, her husband--The Athapuscows\n    steal in at night--The chiefs murdered--Tula a\n    captive--Her infant boy murdered before her eyes--The\n    Chippeways in pursuit of the murderers--Following the\n    trail--The enemy overtaken--Retribution wreaked upon\n    the innocent--The deep grief of Tula--Her weary\n    marches--Her captors encamp--The tempest--She escapes\n    in the darkness--Vain attempts to discover her\n    retreat--Seeks to find her way back to her people--The\n    forest--A midnight intruder--She climbs a tree--Is\n    besieged--Assaulted--Repels and destroys the\n    enemy--Intricacies and dangers of the forest--An\n    opening, but no light--Bewildered--Resolves to go no\n    farther--Finds a convenient spot--builds a cabin--her\n    house-keeping--Her ingenuity, industry and taste--The\n    Hermitess discovered--Her solitude reluctantly\n    abandoned--Indian mode of obtaining a\n    wife--Journeyings--A new party--An unexpected meeting.\n\n\n\n\nTHE AZTEC PRINCESS,\n\nOR\n\nDESTINY FORESHADOWED.\n\n\n                      Rapacious Spain\n    Followed her bold discoverer o'er the main;\n    A rabid race, fanatically bold,\n    And steeled to cruelty by lust of gold,\n    Traversed the waves, the unknown world explored,\n    The cross their standard, but their path the sword;\n    Their steps were graves; o'er prostrate realms they trod,\n    They worshipped Mammon, while they vowed to God.\n\n\n\n\nTHE AZTEC PRINCESS.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER I.\n\n  BIRTH AND EARLY LIFE OF TECUICHPO.\n\n   ~Tell me, ascribest thou influence to the stars?~\n\n\n     \"Wo! wo! wo! to the imperial House of Tenochtitlan! Never saw I\n     the heavens in so inauspicious an aspect. Dark portentous\n     influences appear on every side. May the horoscope of the\n     infant daughter of Montezuma never be fulfilled.\"\n\nThese were the awful words of the priestly astrologer of Tenochtitlan,\nuttered with solemn and oracular emphasis from the lofty Teocalli, where\nhe had been long and studiously watching the heavens, and calculating\nthe relative positions and combinations of the stars. A deep unutterable\ngloom seemed to pervade his soul. Several times he traversed the broad\nterrace, in a terrible agitation; his splendid pontifical robes flowing\nloosely in the breeze, and his tall majestic figure relieved against the\nclear sky, like some colossal moving statue,--and then, in tones of\ndeeper grief than before, finding no error in his calculations,\nreiterated his oracular curse--\"Wo! wo! wo! to the imperial House of\nTenochtitlan!\" Casting down his instruments to the earth, and tearing\nhis hair in the violence of his emotions, he prostrated himself on the\naltar, and poured forth a loud and earnest prayer to all his gods.\n\n\"Is there no favoring omen in any quarter, venerable father?\" inquired\nthe agitated messenger from the palace, when the prayer was ended--\"is\nthere no one of those bright spheres above us, that will deign to smile\non the destiny of the young princess?\"\n\n\"It is full of mysterious, portentous contradictions,\" replied the\nastrologer. \"Good and evil influences contend for the mastery. The evil\nprevail, but the good are not wholly extinguished. The life of the\nprincess will be a life of sorrow, but there will be a peculiar\nbrightness in its end. Yet the aspect of every sign in the heavens is\nwo, and only wo, to the imperial House of Montezuma.\"\n\nFaith in the revelations of astrology was a deeply rooted superstition\nwith the Aztecs. It pervaded the whole structure of society, affecting\nthe most intelligent and well-informed, as well as the humblest and most\nignorant individual. In this case, the prophetic wailings of the\npriestly oracle rolled, like a long funereal knell, through the\nmagnificent halls of the imperial palace, and fell upon the ear of the\nmonarch, as if it had been a voice from the unseen world. Montezuma was\nreclining on a splendidly embroidered couch, in his private apartment,\nanxiously awaiting the response of the celestial oracle. He was\nmagnificently arrayed in his royal robes of green, richly ornamented\nwith variegated feather-work, and elaborately inwrought with gold and\nsilver. His sandals were of pure gold, with ties and anklets of gold and\nsilver thread, curiously interwoven with a variegated cotton cord. On\nhis head was a rich fillet of gold, with a beautiful plume bending\ngracefully over one side, casting a melancholy shade over his handsome\nbut naturally pensive features. A few of the royal princes sat, in\nrespectful silence, at the farther end of the chamber, waiting, with an\nanxiety almost equal to that of the monarch, the return of the royal\nmessenger.\n\nThe apartments of the emperor were richly hung with tapestry of\nornamental feather-work, rivalling, in the brilliancy of its dyes, and\nthe beautiful harmony of its arrangement, the celebrated Gobelin\ntapestry. The floor was a tesselated pavement of porphyry and other\nbeautiful stones. Numerous torches, supported in massive silver stands,\ndelicately carved with fanciful figures of various kinds, blazed through\nthe apartment, lighting up, with an almost noonday brilliancy, the\ngorgeous folds of the plumed hangings, and filling the whole palace with\nthe sweet breath of the odoriferous gums of which they were composed.\n\nThe emperor leaned pensively on his hand, seemingly oppressed with some\nsuperstitious melancholy forebodings. Perhaps the shadow of that\nmysterious prophecy, which betokened the extinction of the Aztec\ndynasty, and the consequent ruin of his house, was passing athwart the\ntroubled sky of his mind, veiling the always doubtful future in mists of\ntenfold dimness. Whatever it was that disturbed his royal serenity, his\nreverie was soon broken by the sound of an approaching footstep. For a\nmoment, nothing was heard but the measured tread of the trembling\nmessenger, pacing with unwilling step the long corridor, that led to the\nroyal presence. With his head bowed upon his breast, his eyes fixed upon\nthe pavement, his person veiled in the coarse _nequen_,[A] and his feet\nbare, he stood before the monarch, dumb as a statue.\n\n\"What response bring you,\" eagerly enquired the emperor, \"from the\nburning oracles of heaven? How reads the destiny of my new-born infant?\"\n\n\"The response be to the enemies of the great Montezuma,\" replied the\nmessenger, without lifting his eyes from the floor, \"and the destiny it\nforeshadows to the children of them that hate him.\"\n\n\"Speak,\" exclaimed the monarch, \"What message do you bring from the\npriest of the stars?\"\n\n\"Alas! my royal master, my message is full of wo--my heart faints, and\nmy tongue refuses its office to give it utterance. The old prophet bade\nme say, that the celestial influences are all unpropitious; that the\ndestiny of the infant princess is a life of sorrow, with a gleam of more\nthan earthly brightness in its evening horizon. And then, prostrating\nhimself upon the great altar, he groaned out one long, deep,\nheart-rending wail for the imperial House of Tenochtitlan, and the\ngolden realm of Anahuac.\"\n\nA deeper shade came over the brow of Montezuma, and heaving a sigh from\nthe very depths of a soul that had long been agitated by melancholy\nforebodings of coming evil, he raised his eyes to heaven, and said,\n\"the will of the gods be done.\" Then, waving his hand to his attendants,\nthey bowed their heads, and retired in silence from the apartment.\n\n\"It has come at last,\" inwardly groaned the monarch, as soon as he found\nhimself alone--\"it has come at last--that fearful prophecy, that has so\nlong hung, like the shadow of a great cloud, over my devoted house, is\nnow to be fulfilled. The fates have willed it, and there is no escape\nfrom their dread decrees. I must make ready for the sacrifice.\"\n\nNerved by the stern influence of this dark fatalism, Montezuma brushed a\ntear from his eye, and putting a royal restraint upon the turbulent\nsorrows and fears of his paternal heart, hastened to the apartments of\nthe queen, to break to her, with all the gentleness and caution which\nher delicate and precarious circumstances required, the mournful issue\nof their inquiries at the court of heaven, into the future destiny and\nprospects of their new-born babe.\n\nA deep gloom hung over the palace and the city. Every heart, even the\nmost humble and unobserved, sympathized in the disappointment, and\nshared the distress, of their sovereign. And the day, which should have\nbeen consecrated to loyal congratulations, and general festivities,\nbecame, as by common consent, a sort of national fast, a season of\nuniversal lamentation.\n\nThe little stranger was welcomed into life with that peculiar chastened\ntenderness, which is the natural offspring of love and pity--love, such\nas infant innocence wins spontaneously from every heart--pity, such as\nmelancholy forebodings of coming years of sorrow to one beloved, cannot\nfail to awaken. She was regarded as the most beautiful and the most\ninteresting of all her race. Every look and motion seemed to have its\npeculiar significance in indicating the victim of a remarkable destiny.\nAnd it is not to be wondered at, that a superstition so sad, and an\naffection so tender and solicitous, discovered an almost miraculous\nprecocity in the first developments of the intellectual and moral\nqualities of its subject. She was the attractive centre of all the\nadmiration and love of the royal household. Imagination fancied a\npeculiar sadness in her eye, and her merry laugh was supposed to mingle\nan element of sadness in its tones. Her mild and winning manners, and\nher affectionate disposition made her the idol of all whom she loved;\nand each one strove to do her service, as if hoping to avert, in some\nmeasure, the coming doom of their darling; while she clung to the fond\nand devoted hearts around her, as the ivy clings to the oak, which\nreceives its embraces, and is necessary to its support.\n\nWhen the young princess, who received the name of Tecuichpo, had arrived\nat the age of one year, she was given in charge to a young and beautiful\nslave, whom the Emperor had recently obtained from Azcapozalco. Karee\nwas gifted with rare powers of minstrelsy. Her voice had the sweetness,\npower and compass of a mocking bird, and all day long she warbled her\never-changing lays, as if her natural breathing were music, and song the\nnatural flow of her thoughts. She soon became passionately devoted to\nthe little pet, and exerted all her uncommon gifts to amuse and instruct\nher. She taught her all the native songs of Azcapozalco and Mexitli,\ninstructed her in dancing, embroidery and feather-work, and initiated\nher into the science of picture-writing and the fanciful language of\nflowers. Karee and her royal charge were never apart. Gentle and timid\nas the dove, Tecuichpo clung to her new nurse, as to the bosom of a\nmother. Even in her early infancy, she would so sweetly respond, like an\necho, to the gentle lullaby, and mingle her little notes so\nsymphoniously with those of Karee, that it excited the wonder and\nadmiration of all. Karee was passionately fond of flowers. It was indeed\nan element in the national taste of this remarkable people. But Karee\nwas unusually gifted in her preceptions of natural beauty, and seemed to\nhave a soul most delicately attuned to the spirit and language of\nflowers, the painted hieroglyphics of nature. She loved to exercise her\nexuberant fancy in decorating her little mistress, and often contrived\nso to arrange them upon the various parts of her person and dress, as to\nmake her at different times, the emblematic representation of every\nbright and beautiful spirit, that was supposed to people their celestial\nparadise, or to hover, on wings of love and gentle care, about the path\nof those whom the gods delighted to favor.\n\nIt was the daily custom for Karee to carry the young princess into the\napartment of the Emperor, as soon as he rose from his siesta, to receive\nthe affectionate caresses which her royal father was so fond of\nlavishing upon her. At such times, Tecuichpo would often take with her\nsome rich chaplets of flowers which Karee had woven for her, and amuse\nherself and her father, by arranging them in a coronet on his brow, or\ntwining them, in every fantastic form, about his person, to make, as\nshe said, a flower-god of _him_, who was a sun to all the flowers of her\nearthly paradise.\n\nOne day, when the young princess was sleeping in her little arbor, the\never watchful nurse observed a viper among the flowers, which she had\nstrown about her pillow, just ready to dart its venomous fang into the\nbosom of her darling. Quick as lightning she seized the reptile in her\nhand, and, before he had time to turn upon her, flung him upon the\nfloor, and crushed him under her sandalled heel. Passionately embracing\nher dear charge, she hastened with her to the apartments of the queen,\nand related the story of her narrow escape, with so much of the\neloquence of gratitude for being the favored instrument of her\ndeliverance from so cruel a death, that it deeply affected the heart of\nthe queen. She embraced her child and Karee, as if both were, for the\nmoment, equally dear to her; and then, in return for the faithful\nservice, rendered at the hazard of her own life, she promised to bestow\nupon the slave whatever she chose to ask. \"Give me, O give me freedom,\nand a chinampa, and I ask no more,\" was the eager reply of Karee to this\nunexpected offer of the queen. The request was immediately granted; and\nthe first sorrow that ever clouded the heart of the lovely Tecuichpo,\nwas that of parting with her faithful and loving Karee.\n\nA _chinampa_ was a floating island in the lake of Tezcuco, upon whose\nvery bosom the imperial city was built. They were very numerous, and\nsome of them were large, and extremely beautiful. They were formed by\nthe alluvial deposit in the waters of the lake, and by occasional masses\nof earth detached from the shores, held together by the fibrous roots,\nwith which they were penetrated, and which in that luxurious clime, put\nout their feelers in every direction, and gathered to their embrace\nwhatever of nutriment and support the richly impregnated waters\nafforded. In the process of a few years accumulation, the floating mass\nincreased in length, breadth and thickness, till it became an island,\ncapable of sustaining not only shrubs and trees, but sometimes a human\nhabitation. Some of these were from two to three hundred feet square,\nand could be moved about at pleasure, like a raft, from city to city,\nalong the borders of the lake. The natives, who were skilful gardeners,\nand passionately devoted to the cultivation of flowers, improved upon\nthis beautiful hint of nature, to enlarge their means of supplying the\ncapital with fruits, vegetables and flowers. Constructing small rafts of\nreeds, anchoring them out in the lake, and then covering them with the\nsediment drawn up from the bottom, they soon found them covered with a\nthrifty vegetation, and a vigorous soil, from which they were able to\nproduce a large supply of the various luxuries of their highly favored\nclime.\n\nIt was to one of these fairy gardens that the beautiful Karee retired,\nrich in the priceless jewel of freedom, and feeling that a chinampa all\nher own, and flowers to train and commune with, was the summit of human\ndesire. Karee was no common character. Gifted by nature with unusual\ntalents, she had, though in adverse circumstances, cultivated them by\nall the means in her power. Remarkably quick of perception, and shrewd\nand accurate of observation, with a memory that retained every thing\nthat was committed to it, in its exact outlines and proportions, she\nwas enabled to gather materials for improvement from every scene through\nwhich she passed. Her imagination was exceedingly powerful and active,\nsometimes wild and terrific, but kept in balance by a sound judgment and\na discriminating taste. Her love of flowers was a passion, a part of her\nnature. For her they had a language, if not a soul. And there was not\none of all the endless varieties of that luxuriant clime, that had not a\ndefinite and emphatic place in the vocabulary of her fancy. The history\nof her life she could have written in her floral dialect, and to her,\nthough its lines might have faded rapidly, its pages would have been\nalways legible and eloquent. Her attachments were strong and enduring,\nand there was that element of heroism in her soul, that she would\nunhesitatingly have sacrificed life for the object of her love.\n\nIt is not to be wondered at, that, with such qualities of mind and\nheart, Karee was deeply impressed with the solemn and imposing\nsuperstitions of the Aztec religion. The rites and ceremonies by which\nthey were illustrated and sustained, were well calculated to stir to its\nvery depths, a soul like hers, and give the fullest exercise to her wild\nimagination. That pompous ritual, those terrible orgies, repeated before\nher eyes almost daily from her infancy, had become blended with the\nthoughts and associations of her mind, and intimately related to every\nscene that interested her heart, or engaged her fancy. Yet her soul was\nnot enslaved to that dark and dismal superstition. Though accustomed to\nan awful veneration of the priesthood, she did not regard them as a\nsuperior race of beings, or listen to their words, as if they had been\naudible voices from heaven. Her spirit shrunk from many of the darker\nrevelations of the established mythology, and openly revolted from some\nof its inhuman exactions. Its chains hung loosely upon her; and she\nseemed fully prepared for the freedom of a purer and loftier faith. Her\nextreme beauty, her bewitching gaiety, and her varied talents, attracted\nmany admirers, and some noble and worthy suitors. But Karee had another\ndestiny to fulfil. She felt herself to be the guardian angel of the\nill-fated Tecuichpo, and her love for the princess left no room for any\nother passion in her heart. She therefore refused all solicitations, and\nremained the solitary mistress of her floating island.\n\nKaree's departure from the palace, did not in any degree lessen her\ninterest in the welfare of the young princess. She was assiduous in her\nattention to every thing that could promote her happiness; and seemed to\nvalue the flowers she cultivated on her chinampa chiefly as they\nafforded her the means of daily correspondence with Tecuichpo. She\nmanaged her island like a canoe, and moved about from one part of the\nbeautiful lake to another, visiting by turns the cities that glittered\non its margin, and sometimes traversing the valleys in search of new\nflowers, or exploring the ravines and caverns of the mountains for\nwhatever of rare and precious she might chance to find. The chivalry of\nthe Aztecs rendered such adventures perfectly safe, their women being\nalways regarded with the greatest tenderness and respect, and treated\nwith a delicacy seldom surpassed in the most civilized countries of\nChristendom.\n\nThis chivalric sentiment was, not improbably heightened, in the case of\nKaree, in part by her extreme beauty, and in part by the power of her\ngenius and the brilliancy of her wit. She commanded respect by the force\nof her intellect, and the purity of her heart; while the uncommon depth\nand splendor of her imagination, when excited by any favorite theme, and\nthe seemingly inexhaustible fruitfulness of her mental resources,\ninvested her, in the view of the multitude, with something of the\ndignity, and much of the superstitious charm of a prophetess.\n\n   [A] A mantle of coarse cotton fabric, which all who approached\n   the emperor were compelled to put on, in token of humility and\n   reverence.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II.\n\n  YOUTH OF THE PRINCESS--HER EARLY LOVE REVEALED--PROPHETIC\n    ANNOUNCEMENT AND SUDDEN ARRIVAL OF THE SPANIARDS.\n\n   ~Breathe not his noble name even to the winds,\n    Lest they my love reveal.~\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n               ~I have mystical lore,\n    And coming events cast their shadows before.~\n\n\nThe childhood of the fair princess passed away without any event of\nimportance, except the occasional recurrence of those dark prophecies\nwhich overshadowed her entrance into life. Her father, who had exercised\nthe office of priest before he came to the throne, was thoroughly imbued\nwith the superstitious reverence for astrology, which formed a part of\nthe religion of the Aztecs. To all the predictions of this mystic\nscience he yielded implicit belief, regarding whatever it foreshadowed\nas the fixed decrees of fate. He was, therefore, fully prepared, and\nalways on the look-out, for new revelations to confirm and establish his\nfaith. These were sometimes found in the trivial occurrences of\nevery-day life, and sometimes in the sinister aspect of the heavenly\nbodies, at peculiar epochs in the life of his daughter. With this\nsuperstitious foreboding of evil, the pensive character of the princess\nharmonized so well, as to afford, to the mind of the too credulous\nmonarch, another unquestionable indication of her destiny. It seemed to\nbe written on her brow, that her life was a doomed one; and each\nreturning year was counted as the last, and entered upon with gloomy\nforebodings of some terrible catastrophe.\n\nAs her life advanced, her charms, both of person and character matured\nand increased; and, at the age of fourteen, there was not a maiden in\nall the golden cities of Anahuac, who could compare with Tecuichpo. Her\nexceeding loveliness was the theme of many a song, and the fame of her\nbeauty and her accomplishments was published in all the neighboring\nnations. While yet a child, her hand was eagerly sought by Cacamo, of\nthe royal house of Tezcuco; but, with the true chivalry of an unselfish\ndevotion, his suit was withdrawn, on discovering that her young\naffections were already engaged to another. The discovery was made in a\nmanner too singular and striking to be suffered to pass unnoticed.\n\nIn the course of her wanderings in the forest, Karee had taken captive a\nbeautiful parrot, of the most gorgeous plumage, and the most astonishing\ncapacity. This chatterer, after due training and discipline, she had\npresented to her favorite princess, among a thousand other tokens of her\nunchangeable affection. Tecuichpo loved the beautiful mimic, to whom she\ngave the name of Karee-o-than--the voice of Karee,--and often amused\nherself with teaching her to repeat the words which she loved best to\nhear. Without being aware of the publicity she was thus giving to her\nmost treasured thoughts, she entrusted to the talkative bird the secret\nof her love, by associating with the most endearing epithets, the name\nof her favored cavalier. While strolling about the magnificent gardens\nattached to the palace of Montezuma, Cacamo was wont to breathe out, in\nimpassioned song, his love for Tecuichpo, repeating her name, with every\nexpression of passionate regard, which the language afforded.\nKaree-o-than was often flying about in the gardens, and soliloquizing in\nthe arbors, the favorite resorts of her beautiful mistress, and often\nattracted the notice of Cacamo.\n\nOne evening, as the prince was more than usually eloquent in pouring\ninto the ear of Zephyr the tale of his love, the mimic bird, perched\nupon a flowering orange tree, that filled the garden with its delicious\nperfume, repeated the name of his mistress, as often as her lover\nuttered it, occasionally connecting with it the name of Guatimozin, and\nthen adding some endearing epithet, expressive of the most ardent\nadmiration. The prince was first amused, and then vexed, at the frequent\nrepetition of the name of his rival. In vain did he endeavor to induce\nthe mischievous bird to substitute his own name for that of Guatimozin.\nAs often as he uttered the name of the princess, the echo in the orange\ntree gave back \"noble Guatimozin,\" or \"sweet Guatimozin,\" or some other\nsimilar response, which left no doubt on the mind of Cacamo, that the\nheart of his mistress was pre-occupied, and that the nephew of Montezuma\nwas the favored object of her love. The next day, he bade adieu to\nTenochtitlan, placed himself at the head of the army of Tezcuco, and\nplunged into a war then raging with a distant tribe on the west, hoping\nto bury his disappointment in the exciting scenes of conquest.\n\nGuatimozin was of the royal blood, and, as his after history will show,\nof a right royal and heroic spirit. From his childhood, he had exhibited\nan unusual maturity of judgment, coupled with an energy, activity, and\nfearlessness of spirit, which gave early assurance of a heroism worthy\nof the supreme command, and an intellectual superiority that might claim\nsuccession to the throne. His training was in the court and the camp,\nand he seemed equally at home and in his element, amid the refined\ngaieties of the palace, the grave deliberations of the royal council,\nand the mad revelry of the battle-field. His figure was of the most\nperfect manly proportions, tall, commanding, graceful--his countenance\nwas marked with that peculiar blending of benignity and majesty, which\nmade it unspeakably beautiful and winning to those whom he loved, and\nterrible to those on whom he frowned. He was mild, humane, generous,\nconfiding; yet sternly and heroically just. His country was his idol.\nThe one great passion of his soul, to which all other thoughts and\naffections were subordinate and tributary, was patriotism. On that\naltar, if he had possessed a thousand lives, he would freely have laid\nthem all. Such was the noble prince who had won the heart of Tecuichpo.\n\nMeanwhile, to the anxious eye of her imperial father, the clouds of fate\nseemed to hang deep and dark over the realm of Anahuac. Long before the\nprophetic wail, which welcomed the lovely Tecuichpo to a life of\nsorrow, Montezuma had imbibed from the dark legends of ancient\nprophecies, and the faint outgivings of his own priestly oracles, a deep\nand ineradicable impression that some terrible calamity was impending\nover the realm, and that he was to be the last of its native monarchs.\nIt was dimly foreshadowed, in these prophetic revelations, that the\ndescendants of a noble and powerful race of men, who had many ages\nbefore occupied that beautiful region, and filled it with the works of\ntheir genius, but who had been driven out by the cruelty and perfidy of\nthe Toltecs, would return, invested with supernatural power from heaven,\nto re-possess their ancient inheritance.[B] To this leading and long\nestablished faith, every dark and doubtful omen contributed its\nappropriate share of confirmation. To this, every significant event was\ndeemed to have a more or less intimate relation. So that, at this\nparticular epoch, not only the superstitious monarch, and his priestly\nastrologers, but the whole nation of Azteca were prepared, as were the\nancient Jews at the advent of the Messiah, for great events, though\nutterly unable to imagine what might be the nature of the expected\nchange.\n\nThese gloomy forebodings of coming evil so thoroughly possessed the mind\nof Montezuma, that the commanding dignity and pride of the monarch gave\nway before the absorbing anxiety of the man and the father, and, in a\nmanner, unfitted him for the duties of the lofty place he had so nobly\nfilled. He yielded, as will be seen in the sequel, not without grief,\nbut without resistance, to the fixed decrees of fate, and awaited the\nissue, as a victim for the heaven-appointed sacrifice.\n\nIt was about fifteen years after the prophetic announcement of the doom\nof the young princess of the empire, that Montezuma was reclining in his\nsummer saloon, where he had been gloomily brooding over his darkening\nprospects, till his soul was filled with sadness. His beautiful daughter\nwas with him, striving to cheer his heart with the always welcome music\nof her songs, and the affectionate expression of a love as pure and deep\nas ever warmed the heart of a devoted child. She had gone that day into\nthe royal presence to ask a boon for her early and faithful friend,\nKaree. This lovely and gifted creature, now in the full maturity of all\nher wonderful powers of mind, and personal attractions, had often been\nadmitted, as a special favorite, into the royal presence, to exhibit her\nremarkable powers of minstrelsy, and her almost supernatural gifts as an\nimprovisatrice of the wild melodies of Anahuac. Some of her chants were\nof rare pathos and sublimity, and sometimes she was so carried away with\nthe impassioned vehemence of her inspiration, that she seemed an\ninspired messenger from the skies, uttering in their language the\noracles of the gods. On this occasion, she had requested permission to\nsing a new chant in the palace, that she might seize the opportunity to\nbreathe a prophetic warning in the ear of the emperor. She had thrice\ndreamed that the dark cloud which had so long hung over that devoted\nland, had burst in an overwhelming storm, upon the capital, and buried\nMontezuma and all his house in indiscriminate ruin. She had seen the\ndemon of destruction, in the guize of a snow white angel, clad in\nburnished silver, borne on a fiery animal, of great power, and fleet as\nthe wind, having under him a small band of warriors, guarded and mounted\nlike himself, armed with thunderbolts which they hurled at will against\nall who opposed their progress. She had seen the monarch of\nTenochtitlan, with his hosts of armed Mexicans, and the tributary armies\nof Tezcuco, Islacapan, Chalco, and all the cities of that glorious\nvalley, tremble and cower before this small band of invaders, and yield\nhimself without a blow to their hands. She had seen the thousands and\ntens of thousands of her beloved land fall before this handful of\nstrangers, and melt away, like the mists of the morning before the\nrising sun. And she had heard a voice from the dark cloud as it broke,\nsaying, sternly, as the forked lightning leaped into the heart of the\nimperial palace, \"The gods help only those who help themselves.\"\n\nFilled and agitated with the stirring influence of this prophetic\nvision, Karee, who had always regarded herself as the guardian genius of\nTecuichpo, now imagined the sphere of her duty greatly enlarged, and\ndeemed herself specially commissioned to save the empire from impending\ndestruction. Weaving her vision, and the warning it uttered, into one of\nher most impassioned chants, and arraying herself as the priestess of\nnature, she followed Tecuichpo, with a firm step into the royal\npresence, and, with the boldness and eloquence of a prophetess, warned\nhim of the coming danger, and urged him to arouse from his apathy,\nunbecoming the monarch of a proud and powerful nation, cast off the\nslavery of his superstitious fears, and prepare to meet, with the power\nof a man, and the wisdom of a king, whatever evil might come upon him.\nRising with the kindling inspiration of her theme, she ventured gently\nto reproach the awe-struck monarch with his unmanly fears, and to remind\nhim that on his single will, and the firmness of his soul, hung not only\nhis own destiny but that of wife and children; and more than that, of a\nwhole nation, whose myriads of households looked up to him, as the\ncommon father of them all, the heaven-appointed guardian of their lives,\nliberty and happiness. At length, alarmed at her own energy and\nboldness, so unwonted even to the proudest noble of the realm, in that\nroyal presence, she bent her knee, and baring her bosom, she lowered her\nvoice almost to a whisper, and said imploringly--\n\n    Strike, monarch! strike, this heart is thine,\n      To live or die for thee;\n    Strike, but heed this voice of mine\n      It comes from heaven, through me;\n    It comes to save this blessed land,\n      It comes thy soul to free\n    From those dark fears, and bid thee stand\n    The monarch father of thy land,\n      That only lives in thee.\n\n    Strike, father! if my words too bold\n      Thy royal ears offend;\n    The visions of the night are told,\n    Thy destiny the gods unfold--\n      Oh! be thy people's friend,\n    True to thyself, to them, to heaven--\n    So shall this lowering cloud be riven\n      And light and peace descend,\n    To bless this golden realm, and save\n    Tecuichpo from an early grave.\n\nThe vision of the beautiful pythoness had deeply and powerfully affected\nthe soul of Montezuma; and her closing appeal moved him even to tears.\nThough accustomed to the most obsequious deference from all his\nsubjects, even from the proudest of his nobles, he had listened to every\nword of Karee with the profoundest attention and interest, as if it had\nbeen from the acknowledged oracle of heaven. When she ceased, there was\na breathless silence in the hall. The monarch drew his lovely daughter\nto his bosom in a passionate embrace. Karee remained prostrate, with her\nface to the ground, her heart throbbing almost audibly with the violence\nof her emotions. Suddenly, a deep long blast from a distant trumpet\nannounced the arrival of a courier at the capital. It was a signal for\nall the attendants to retire. Tecuichpo tenderly kissing her father,\ntook Karee by the hand, raised her up and led her out, and the monarch\nwas left alone.\n\nIn a few moments, the courier arrived and entering, barefoot and veiled,\ninto the royal presence, bowed to the very ground, handed a scroll to\nthe king, and departed. When Montezuma had unrolled the scroll, he\nseemed for a moment, as if struck with instant paralysis. Fear,\nastonishment, dismay, seized upon his soul. The vision of Karee was\nalready fulfilled. The pictured tablet was the very counterpart of her\noracular chant--the literal interpretation of her prophetic vision. It\nannounced the arrival within the realms of Montezuma, of a band of pale\nfaced strangers, clad in burnished armor, each having at his command a\nbeautiful animal of great power, hitherto unknown in that country, that\nbore him with the speed of the wind wherever he would go, and seemed,\nwhile he was mounted, to be a part of himself. It described their\nweapons, representing them as having the lightning and thunder at their\ndisposal, which they caused to issue sometimes from dark heavy engines,\nwhich they dragged along the ground, and sometimes from smaller ones\nwhich they carried in their hands. It delineated, faithfully and\nskilfully their \"water houses,\" or ships, in which they traversed the\ngreat waters, from a far distant country. The peculiar costume and\nbearing of their commander, and of his chiefs, were also happily\nrepresented in the rich coloring for which the Aztecs were\ndistinguished. Nothing was omitted in their entire array, which could\nserve to convey to the eye of the emperor a correct and complete\nimpression of the appearance, numbers and power of the strangers. It was\nall before him, at a glance, a living speaking picture, and told the\nstory of the invasion as graphically and eloquently, as if he had been\nhimself a witness of their debarkation, and of their feats of\nhorsemanship. It was all before him, a terrible living reality. The gods\nwhom he worshipped had sent these strangers to fulfil their own\nirresistible purposes--if, indeed, these were not the gods themselves,\nin human form.\n\nThe mind of Montezuma was overwhelmed. Like Belshazzar, when the divine\nhand appeared writing his doom on the wall, his soul fainted in him, his\nknees smote together, and he sat, in blank astonishment, gazing on the\npicture before him, as if the very tablet possessed a supernatural power\nof destruction.\n\nParalyzed with the influence of his long indulged fears so singularly\nand strikingly realized, the monarch sat alone, neither seeking comfort,\nnor asking counsel of any one, till the hour of the evening repast. The\nsummons aroused him from his reverie; but he regarded it not. He\nremained alone, in his own private apartments, during the whole night,\nfasting and sleepless, traversing the marble halls in an agony of\nagitation.\n\nWith the first light of the morning, the shrill notes of the trumpet,\nreverberating along the shadowy slopes of the cordilleras, announced the\napproach of another courier from the camp of the strangers. It rung in\nthe ears of the dejected monarch, like an alarum. He awoke at once from\nhis stupor, and began to consider what was to be done. The warning of\nKaree rushed upon his recollection. Her bold and timely appeal struck\nhim to the heart. He resolved to be once more the monarch, and the\nfather of his people. Uttering an earnest prayer to all his gods, he\nawaited the arrival of the courier.\n\nSwift of foot as the mountain deer, the steps of the messenger were soon\nheard, measuring with solemn pace, the long corridor of the royal\nmansion, as one who felt that he was approaching the presence of\nmajesty, and bearing a message pregnant with the most important issues\nto the common weal. Bowing low, with that profound reverence, which was\nrigorously exacted of all who approached the presence of Montezuma, he\ntouched the ground with his right hand, and then, his eyes bent to the\nearth, delivered his pictured scroll, and retired. It was a courteous\nand complimentary message from the strangers he so much dreaded,\nrequesting that they might be permitted to pay their respects to his\nimperial majesty, in his own capital. The quick-sighted monarch\nperceived at once that prudence and policy required that this interview\nshould be prevented.\n\nA council of the wisest and most experienced of the Aztec nobles was\nimmediately called. The opinions of the royal advisers were variously\nexpressed, but all, with one accord, agreed that the request of the\nstrangers could not be granted. Some counselled a bold and warlike\nmessage, commanding the intruders to depart instantly, on pain of the\nroyal displeasure. Some recommended their forcible expulsion by the army\nof the empire. The more aged and experienced, who had learned how much\neasier it is to avoid, than to escape, a danger, proposed a more\ncourteous and peaceable reply to the message of the strangers. They\ndeemed it unworthy of a great and powerful monarch, to be angry, when\nthe people of another nation visited his territories, or requested\npermission to see his capital. To manifest, or feel any thing like fear,\nin such a case, would be a reproach alike upon his courage and his\npatriotism. So long, therefore, as the strangers conducted themselves\npeaceably, and with becoming deference to the will of the emperor, and\nthe laws of the realm, they should be treated civilly, and hospitably\nentertained.\n\nTo this wise and prudent counsel, the monarch was already fully prepared\nto yield. It was strongly seconded by his superstitious reverence for\nthe heaven-sent strangers, and his mortal dread of their superhuman\npower. He, therefore, selected the noblest and wisest of his chiefs as\nambassadors, to bear his message, which was kindly and courteously\nexpressed; at the same time conveying a firm but respectful refusal to\nadmit the foreigners to an interview in the capital, or to extend to\nthem the protection of the court, after a reasonable time had elapsed\nfor their re-embarkation. This message was accompanied with a munificent\nroyal present, consisting of the richest and most beautiful suits of\napparel for the chief and all his men, with gorgeous capes and robes of\nfeather-work, glittering with jewels--precious stones richly set in\ngold, and many magnificent ornaments of pure gold.\n\nAt the head of this embassy were princes of high estate, and most noble\nbearing, commanding in person, and of great distinction, both at the\ncourt and in the camp. When they arrived near the encampment of the\nstrangers, which was the spot where the city of Vera Cruz now stands,\nthey sent a courier forward, to announce their approach, and prepare for\ntheir reception.\n\nThe meeting of the parties was one of no little pomp and ceremony, for\nthe courtly manners and chivalric bearing of the European cavaliers were\nscarcely superior, in impressiveness and effect, to the barbaric\nsplendor, and graceful consciousness of power, which characterized the\nflower of the Aztec nobility. The chief, advancing towards the invaders,\nbowed low to earth, touching the ground with his right hand, then\nraising it to his head, and presenting it to his guest, announced\nhimself as the envoy and servant of the great Montezuma, sole monarch\nand master of all the realms of Anahuac; and demanded the name of the\nstranger, the country from which he came, and the motives which induced\nhim to trespass upon the sacred territories of his royal master, and to\npresume to ask an interview with the emperor, in his capital. The\nCastilian chieftain, with a courteous and knightly bearing replied, that\nhis name was Hernando Cortez--that he was one of the humblest of the\nservants of the great Charles, the mighty monarch of Spain, and\nsovereign ruler of the Indies, and that he had come, with his little\nband of followers, to pay his court to the great Montezuma, and to bear\nto him the fraternal salutation of his master, which he could only\ndeliver in person.\n\nThe reply of the Mexican was dignified, courteous, and pointed, and left\nno hope to the Spaniard, that he would then be able to effect his\npurpose, of visiting in person the golden city. \"If,\" said the prince,\n\"your monarch had come himself to our shores, he might well demand a\npersonal meeting with our lord, the emperor, but when he sends his\nservant to represent him, he surely cannot presume to do more than\ncommunicate with the servants of the great Montezuma. If it were\npossible that another sun should visit yonder sky, he might look upon\nour sun, in his march, and move and shine in his presence. But the moon\nand the stars cannot shine when he is abroad. They can look upon each\nother only when he withdraws his light.\"\n\nThe royal message having been delivered, the presents which accompanied\nit were brought forward, and spread out upon mats, in front of the\ngeneral's tent. The Spaniards were struck, with surprise and admiration\nat the fineness of the texture of the cloths, the richness of their\ndyes, the gorgeous coloring and tasteful arrangement of the\nfeather-work, the masterly workmanship and exquisite finish of the\njewelry, and, above all, the immense value, and magnificent size of the\ngolden toys which were presented them. They conceived, at once, the most\nexalted ideas of the riches of the country, and the munificence and\nsplendor of the monarch that ruled over it. Their avarice and cupidity\nwere strongly excited, and more than one of the inferior officers, as\nwell as their general, formed the immediate resolution, that, in despite\nof the imperial interdict, they would endeavor, either by diplomacy or\nby force, to win their way to the capital, which they supposed must of\nnecessity be the grand depository of all the treasures in the empire.\nTheir intentions were kept secret, even from each other, and, under\ncover of a specious submission to the expressed will of the monarch,\nCortez requested permission to delay his departure, till his men should\nbe recruited, and his stores replenished for his long voyage.\n\nMeanwhile, taking advantage of this unauthorized reprieve, the artful\nand indefatigable Castilian contrived to draw off from their unwilling\nand burdensome allegiance to Montezuma, the Totonacs, a considerable\ntribe, residing in that part of the country where he had effected his\nlanding; and so to impress them with a sense of his own power and the\nlenity of his government, as to bind them to him in a solemn treaty of\nalliance. He also sent an embassy to the Tlascalans, a nation that had\nlong maintained its independence against the ambitious encroachments of\nMexico, and held Montezuma their natural and only foe. They were a brave\nand warlike people, and nearly as far advanced in the arts of\ncivilization as their enemies. Their government was a kind of republic.\nCortez, with magniloquent pretensions of invincible power, and\ninexhaustible resources, proposed to assist the Tlascalans in reducing\nthe power of Mexico, and putting an end to the oppressions and exactions\nof Montezuma. For this purpose, he asked leave to pass through their\ncountry, on his march to the great capital.\n\nDistrusting the intentions of the strangers, and fearing that, instead\nof a disinterested friend and ally, they should find in them only a new\nenemy, whom, once admitted, they could never expel from their dominions,\nand whose yoke might be even harder to bear than that which the Aztec\nmonarch had in vain attempted to fasten upon them--the proposed alliance\nof the Spaniards was rejected, with such bold and ample demonstrations\nof hostility, as left no room for doubt, that any attempt to force a\npassage through their territories, would be fiercely and ably contested.\n\nNever daunted by obstacles, though somewhat perplexed, the brave Cortez\nrushed forward, encountered the almost countless hosts of the Tlascalan\narmy, and, after several severe and deadly contests, in which the skill\nand prowess of his handful of men, with their terrible horses and yet\nmore terrible fire-arms, were nearly overpowered by the immense numbers,\nastonishing bravery, and comparative skill of the enemy, he succeeded in\nterrifying them into submission, and winning them to a treaty of\nalliance, offensive and defensive, against the tyrant Montezuma, the\ncommon enemy of all the nations of Anahuac. By these singular and\nunparalleled successes, the little band of Castilian adventurers found\nthemselves fortified, in the heart of the country, in close alliance\nwith two powerful tribes, who swelled their army to ten times its\noriginal number, besides supplying them liberally with all the\nprovisions that were needed for themselves and horses.\n\nNever was adventure so rashly undertaken, or so boldly pushed, as this\nsingular expedition of the Spanish cavaliers. And never, probably, were\nthere associated, in one little band, so many of the master spirits of\nchivalry, the true material of a conquering army. The compeers of\nCortez, who submitted to his authority, and acted in perfect harmony\nwith him, as if they were but subordinate parts of himself, were each\ncompetent to command a host, and lead it on to certain victory. The\nimpetuous, daring Alvarado, the cool, courageous, trusty Sandoval, the\nhigh-spirited, chivalrous Olid, the rash, head-long, cruel Velasquez de\nLeon, and others, worthy to be the comrades of these, and of\nCortez--when have the ranks of the war-god assigned so many master\nspirits to one enterprize? And the brave, the gifted, the indomitable\nXicotencatl, the mountain chief of Tlascala, whom the Spaniards, with so\nmuch difficulty, first subdued and then won to their cause, as an\nally--what a noble personification of the soul and spirit of heroism,\nrealizing in personal bravery, martial skill and prowess, and in all the\ncommanding qualities of person and of character, which go to constitute\nthe victorious warrior, the best pictures of the type-heroes of epic\npoetry and history.\n\nIn all their previous discoveries in the New World, the progress of the\nSpaniards to victory was easy, and almost unresisted. The invaders of\nMexico, however, found themselves suddenly introduced to a new people,\nand new scenes--to nations of warriors, to races intelligent, civilized,\nand competent to self-government and self-defence. And all the skill,\ncourage, and energy of their ablest commanders, and their bravest men,\nwould have availed them nothing in their herculean enterprize, if they\nhad not craftily and skilfully worked upon the jealousies and\ndifferences existing between the various tribes and nations of Anahuac,\nand fomented the long smothered discontents, and unwritten complaints of\nan over-taxed and sternly-governed people, into open and clamorous\nresistance to the despotic sway of Montezuma. It is curious and\nmelancholy to observe, how eagerly they shook off the golden yoke of\ntheir hereditary monarch, for the iron one of a new master, and\nexchanged their long-established servitude to their legitimate king and\ntheir pagan gods, for a more galling, hopeless, and wasting slavery to\nthe cruel and rapacious invader, under the life-promising Sign of the\nCross, the desecrated banner of the Prince of Peace.\n\n   [B] One version of this singular prophetic legend represented\n   the expected invaders, as the descendants of the ancient god\n   Quetzalcoatl, who, ages agone, had voluntarily abdicated the\n   throne of Anahuac, and departed to a far country in the East,\n   with a promise to his afflicted people, that his children would\n   ultimately return, and claim their ancient country and crown.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER III.\n\n  SUPERSTITIOUS FEAR AND VACILLATING POLICY OF MONTEZUMA.\n\n     ~The land was ours--this glorious land--\n    With all its wealth of woods and streams--\n      Our warriors, strong in heart and hand,\n    Our daughters, beautiful as dreams.~\n\n           *       *       *       *       *\n\n     ~And then we heard the omens say,\n    That God had sent his angels forth\n      To sweep our ancient tribes away--~\n\n\nWhile these events were transpiring in the ever moving camp of the\nvictorious invaders, the imperial court of Tenochtitlan was agitated and\ndistracted by the divided counsels and wavering policy of the\nsuperstitious, fear-stricken monarch, and his various advisers. At one\ntime, deeply offended by their audacious disregard of his positive\nprohibitions, and roused to a sense of his duty as a king, by the\nprophetic warning of Karee, which never ceased to ring in his ears,\nMontezuma was almost persuaded to give in to the war-party, and send out\nan army that should overwhelm the strangers at a blow. But, before this\nnoble purpose had time to mature itself into action, all his\nsuperstitious fears would revive, and, without coming to any decision\neither to move or stand still, he would pause in timid inaction, till\nsome new success had made the invaders more formidable than before, and\ninvested their mission with something more of that preternatural\nsacredness, which alone had power to unman the monarch, and disarm his\ncraving ambition. At each advance of the conquering Castilians, he\nrealized the growing necessity of prompt and efficient measures of\ndefence, while at the same time he felt a greater reluctance to contend\nwith fate. The result was, that he only dallied with the foe, by\ncontinually sending new embassies, each, with larger and richer presents\nthan the preceding, having no effect but to add fuel to their already\nburning thirst for gold, and strengthen their determination to\naccomplish their original purpose.\n\nThese royal embassies were less and less firm and peremptory in their\nterms, until they assumed the tone of expostulation, and assigning\nvarious and often conflicting reasons why the Spaniards should not\npursue their route any farther towards the imperial city. At length,\nwhen the courier announced the arrival of the mysterious band at\nTlascala, and the consummation of the alliance between them and his old\nand bitter enemies, together with the defection of many cities and\ndistricts, he felt it impossible to remain any longer undecided. His\nthrone trembled under him. He must act, or it would fall, and involve\nhim and his house in inevitable ruin. Instead, however, of a bold and\nmasterly activity in the defence of his capital and crown, he changed\nhis policy altogether, and sending a new embassy with more splendid\ngifts than ever, invited the strangers to his court, and promised them\nall the hospitalities of his empire. He designated the route they should\npursue, and gave orders for their reception in all the towns and cities\nthrough which they should pass.\n\nMontezuma was politic and wise in some things; and the purpose he had\nnow in view, if it had not been frustrated, would have been deemed a\nmaster-stroke of policy, worthy of the ablest disciples of the\nMacchiavellian school. Perceiving the necessity of breaking up this\ncombination of new and old enemies, he had recourse to stratagem to\neffect it, intending that the strangers, whom he dared not to oppose\nwith direct violence, should fall into the snare they had laid for\nthemselves, in thrusting themselves forward, in despite of his repeated\nremonstrances, into the heart of his empire. He feared to raise his own\nhand to destroy them, because they were, in his view, commissioned of\nheaven to overturn his throne; but he deemed it perfectly consistent\nwith this reverence for the decrees of fate, to lay a snare into which\nthey should fall, and so destroy themselves. He little understood the\nwatchfulness and circumspection of the man he had to deal with, or the\ntremendous advantage which their armor of proof and their engines of\ndestruction gave the Europeans over the almost naked Mexicans, with\ntheir primitive weapons of offence. It was his plan to separate the\nforeigners from their new Indian allies, and invite them to come alone\nto the capital, as was first proposed. And he designed to assign them\naccommodations in one of the ancient palaces, in the heart of the city,\nwhere, surrounded by high walls, on every side, they should be shut up\nfrom all intercourse with the people, and left to perish of famine.\n\nWhen this purpose was formed, the monarch kept it a profound secret in\nhis own breast. The ambassadors whom he sent to the Castilian camp, were\nof the highest ranks of the nobility, and were accompanied by a long\ntrain of slaves, bearing the rich presents, by which the wily monarch\nhoped at the same time to display his own royal munificence, and to\npropitiate the favor of the dreaded strangers. Every new display of this\nkind only served more effectually to defeat his own hopes; for the\navarice of the Spaniards, whose lust of gold was absolutely insatiable,\nwas so far from being satisfied with this profusion of royal gifts, that\nit was only the more inflamed with every new accession to their\ntreasures. The only effect, therefore, of these repeated embassies was\nto confirm the Spaniards in their convictions of the conscious weakness\nof the Mexicans, and make them the more resolute in pushing forward to\ncomplete the subjugation of the whole country, and possess themselves of\nall its seemingly inexhaustible treasures of gold.\n\nMontezuma had now another difficulty to contend with, in his endeavor to\nrid himself of the intruders. The Tlascalans represented him to Cortez\nas false and deceitful as he was ambitious and rapacious, and used every\nargument in their power to dissuade him from committing himself to his\nhands. But the bold adventurer, always confident in his own resources,\nseemed never to think of danger when an object was to be accomplished,\nor to regard any thing as impossible which he desired to attain. As\nsoon as the door was thrown open to his amicable approach to the\ncapital, he set himself to prepare for the march. The expostulations and\nsuspicions of the Tlascalans made him, perhaps, more careful in his\npreparations against a surprise, and more rigorous in the discipline of\nhis little corps, than he might otherwise have been. Wherever he was,\nhis camp was as cautiously posted, as fully and rigidly guarded as if,\non the eve of battle, he was hourly expecting an assault. This\nwatchfulness was maintained throughout the whole adventurous campaign,\nas well when in the midst of friends and allies, as when surrounded by\nhostile legions.\n\nAfter the royal ambassadors had departed with their pacific message, the\nmind of Montezuma was harassed and agitated with many doubts of the\npropriety of the course he had adopted. His nobles, and the tributary\nprinces of the neighboring cities of Tezcuco, Tlacopan, and Iztapalapan,\nwere divided in their opinions. Some complained, though not loudly, of\nthe weak and vacillating policy of the king. Some, even of the common\npeople, feared the consequences, anticipating the most disastrous\nresults, in accordance with their superstitious veneration for the\noracles of their faith. The third day after the departure of the envoys,\nthe king was pacing up and down one of the beautifully shaded walks of\nthe royal gardens, listening with a disturbed mind to the powerful\nexpostulations of his brother, Cuitlahua, who, from the beginning, had\nvehemently opposed every concession to the invaders, and urgently\nsolicited permission to lead the army against them, and drive them from\nthe land. Suddenly, a voice as of a distant choir of chanters arrested\nhis ear. The melody was solemn, sweet and soothing. It seemed to come\nsometimes from the upper regions of the air, in tones of silvery\nclearness and power, sometimes from beneath, in suppressed and muffled\nharmony, as when the swell organ soliloquises with all its valves\nclosed,--sometimes it retreated, as if dying into an echo along the\ndistant avenues of royal palms and aged cypresses, or the citron and\norange groves that skirted the farther end of the garden, and then,\nsuddenly, and with great power, it burst in the full tide of impassioned\nsong, from every tree and bower in that vast paradise of terrestrial\nsweets. Enchanted by the more than Circean melody, the brothers paused\nin their animated discourse, and stood, for a few moments, in silent\nwonder and fixed attention. Presently the chanting ceased, and one\nsolitary voice broke forth in plaintive but emphatic recitative as from\nthe midst of the sparkling jet that played its ceaseless tune in the\ngrand porphyritic basin near which they stood. The words, which were\nsimple and oracular, struck deep into the heart of Montezuma, and found\na ready response in that of his royal brother.\n\n    The lion[C] walks forth in his power and pride,\n    The terror and lord of the forest wide--\n    When the fox appears, shall he flee and hide?\n\n           *       *       *       *       *\n\n    The eagle's nest is strong and high,\n    Unquestioned monarch of the sky--\n    Should he quail before the falcon's eye?\n\n           *       *       *       *       *\n\n    The sun rides forth through the heavens afar,\n    Dispensing light from his flaming car--\n    Should he veil his glory, or turn him back,\n    When the meteor flashes athwart his track?\n\n           *       *       *       *       *\n\n    Shall the eagle invite the hawk to his nest?\n    Shall the fox with the lion sit down as a guest?\n    Shall the meteor look out from the noonday sky,\n    When the sun in his power is flaming by?\n\nThe pauses in this significant chant were followed by choral symphonies,\nexpressing, as eloquently as inarticulate sounds could do, the most\nearnest remonstrance, the most moving expostulation. When this was\nconcluded, the same sweet voice broke forth again, in tones of solemn\ntenderness and majestic power, in a prophetic warning to Montezuma.\n\n      Beware, mighty monarch! beware of the hour,\n    When the pale-faced intruder shall come to this bower!\n    Beware of the weakness that whispers of fear,\n    When the all-grasping, gold-seeking Spaniard is near!\n    Beware how thou readest the dark scroll of fate!\n    Its mystic revealings may warn thee too late,\n    That the power to command, and the strength to oppose,\n    Are gone, when thou openest the gate to thy foes.\n    The white men are mortal--frail sons of the earth,\n    They know not, they claim not, a heavenly birth;\n    They bow to disease, and they fall by the sword,\n    Pale fear can disarm them, grim death is their lord;\n    And those terrible coursers, so fiery and strong,\n    That bear them like ravenous tigers along,\n    The fleet winged arrow shall pierce them, and slay,\n    And leave them to eagles and vultures a prey.\n\n      Up, monarch! arouse thee--the hour is at hand\n    When the dark howling tempest shall sweep o'er thy land.\n    Thy doubts and thy fears, ever changing, are rife\n    With peril to liberty, honor and life;\n    And this timid inaction shall surely bring down\n    To the dust, in dishonor, thy glorious crown;\n    And leave, to all time, on thy once-honored head,\n    The curse of a nation forsaken, betrayed.\n    Oh! rouse thee, brave monarch! there's power in thy hand\n    To scatter the clouds that hang over thy land.\n    Speak, speak but the word, there is magic in thee,\n    Before which the ruthless invader shall flee,\n    And myriads of braves, all equipped for defence,\n    Shall leap at thy bidding, and banish him hence;\n    And the gods, who would frown on the recreant slave,\n    Will stand by their altars, and fight for the brave.\n\nThe effect of this mysterious warning upon the mind of Montezuma was\nexceedingly powerful, and seemed, for a time, to change his purpose and\nfix his resolution. With an energy and decision to which he had long\nbeen a stranger, he turned to his brother, and said, \"Cuitlahua, you are\nright. This realm is mine. The gods have made me the father of this\npeople. I must and will defend them. The strangers shall be driven back,\nor die. They shall never profane the temples and altars of Tenochtitlan,\nby entering within its gates, or looking upon its walls. Go, marshall\nyour host, and prepare to meet them, before they advance a step\nfurther.\"\n\nExulting in this sudden demonstration of his ancient martial spirit in\nhis royal brother, and fired with a double zeal in the cause he had so\nmuch at heart, by the thrilling influence upon his soul of the\nmysterious oracle, whose message had been uttered in his hearing,\nCuitlahua scarcely waited for the ordinary courtesy of bidding farewell\nto the king, but flew with the speed of the wind, to execute the\ngrateful trust committed to him. Despatching his messengers in every\ndirection, only a few hours elapsed before his army was drawn up in the\ngreat square of the city; and, ere the sun had gone down, they had\npassed the gates, traversed the grand causeway that linked the\namphibious city with the main land, and pitched their camp in a\nfavorable position, several leagues on the way to Cholula.\n\nThe ardent imagination of the prince of Iztapalapan kindled at the\nprospect now opened before. The clouds, so long hanging over his beloved\ncountry, were dissipated as by magic, and the clear light of heaven\nstreamed in upon his path, promising a quick and easy conquest, a\nglorious triumph, and a permanent peace. He had been in many battles,\nbut had never been defeated. He believed the Mexican army invincible any\nwhere, but especially on their own soil, and fighting for their altars\nand their hearths. Terrible as the invading strangers had been hitherto,\nhe had no fear of the coming encounter. He confidently expected to\nannihilate them at a blow. Happily his soldiers were all animated with\nthe same spirit, and they took to their rest that night, eager for the\nmorning to come, that should light them on their way to a certain and\nglorious victory.\n\nNo sooner had the army departed, than a change came over the spirit of\nthe ill-fated Montezuma. The demons of doubt and fear returned to\nperplex and harass his soul, and to incline him again to that\nvacillating policy, those half way measures, by which his doom was to be\nsealed. In an agony of distrust and suspense, he recounted to himself\nthe history of the past, reviewing all those dark and fearful\nprophecies, those oft-repeated and mysteriously significant omens,\nwhich, for so many years, had foreshadowed the events of the present\nday, and revealed the inevitable doom of the empire, sealed with the\nsignet of heaven. The impressions produced by the recent warnings of\nKaree faded and disappeared before the deep and indelible traces of\nthose ancient oracles, on which he had been accustomed from his youth\nsacredly to rely. He was once more adrift in a tempest of contending\nimpulses, at one moment abandoning all in a paroxism of despair, at\nanother, vainly flattering himself with the hope of deliverance in some\nill-formed stratagem, but never nerving himself to a tone of resolute\ndefiance, or venturing to rest a hope on the issue of an open encounter.\n\nThe result of all this agitation was, another abandonment of his noble\npurpose of defence, and a new resort to stratagem. But the plan of\noperations, and the scene of execution, were changed. Cholula was\nselected as the theatre of destruction. The Spaniards had already been\ninvited to take that city in their route, and orders had been given, and\npreparations made, for their hospitable reception. It was now resolved\nto make their acceptance of that invitation the signal and seal of their\ndestruction. They were to be drawn into the city, alone, under the\npretence that the presence of their Tlascalan allies, who were the\nancient and bitter enemies of the Cholulans, would be likely to create\ndisturbance in the city, and lead to collision if not to bloodshed. The\nCholulans were instructed to provide them with a place of encampment, in\nthe heart of their city, where they could easily be surrounded, and cut\nto pieces. The streets of the city were then to be broken up by deep\npits in some places, and barricades in others, to impede the movements\nof the horses, more dreaded than even the thunder and lightning of their\nriders. This being completed under cover of the night, the city was to\nbe filled with soldiers ready to do the work of execution, while the\nbrave Cuitlahua, with the flower of the army of Tenochtitlan, was to\nencamp at a convenient distance without the walls, to render prompt\nassistance, in case it should be needed.\n\nThis plan being fully arranged in the mind of the Emperor, messengers\nwere despatched with the light of the morning, to arrest the movements\nof Cuitlahua, and convey the necessary orders to the governor of\nCholula. The warlike chieftain was deeply chagrined, and bitterly\ndisappointed, in finding his orders so suddenly countermanded. He saw\nonly certain ruin in the ever-wavering policy of the king, and was\nunable to conceive of any hope, except in striking a bold and decisive\nblow. He was willing to stake all upon a single cast, and drive back the\ninsolent invader, or perish in the attempt. But Montezuma was the\nabsolute monarch. His word was law; and, though not irreversible like\nthat of the Medo-Persian, it was never to be questioned by any of his\nsubjects. The hero must therefore rest on his arms, and await the issue\nof a doubtful stratagem.\n\nMeanwhile, the eager and self sufficient Castilians had pushed forward\nto Cholula, and entered its gates, under a royal escort, that came out\nto meet them, and amid the constrained shouts and half hearted\ncongratulations of a countless multitude of natives, who with mingled\nfear, hatred and curiosity, gazed on the conquerors as a superior race\nof beings, and made way for them on every side, to take possession of\ntheir city. They were received with the greatest deference and\nconsideration by the chiefs of the little republic, and the ambassadors\nof Montezuma, who had halted on their way, to prepare a more honorable\nreception for their guests, and further to ingratiate them with their\nmaster, by doing away, as far they could, the unfavorable impressions of\nhim and his people, which might have made on their minds, by their\nintercourse with their old and implacable enemies of the republic of\nTlascala.\n\nSuch was the mutual jealousy and hatred of these neighboring nations,\nthat, while the Cholulans could, in no wise agree to admit the\nTlascalans to accompany Cortez into their city, they, on their part,\nwere extremely reluctant to allow him to go in alone, assuring him in\nthe strongest terms, that they were the most treacherous and deceitful\nof men, and their promises and professions utterly unworthy of\nconfidence. Scorning danger, however, and determined at all hazards, to\nembrace every opening that seemed to facilitate his approach to the\nMexican capital, he marched fearlessly in, and took up his quarters in\nthe great square, or market place. Here, ample accommodations were\nprovided for him and his band. Every courtesy was extended to them by\nthe citizens and their rulers. Their table was amply supplied with all\nthe necessaries and luxuries of the place. They were regarded with a\nkind of superstitious awe by the multitude, as a race of beings\nbelonging to another world, of ethereal mould, and supernatural powers;\nand their camp was visited by those of all ranks, and all ages, eager to\ncatch a view of the terrible strangers.\n\nA few days after their arrival, a new embassy from the imperial palace\nwas announced. They held no communication with Cortez, but had a long\nconsultation with the previous envoys still remaining there, and with\nthe authorities of the city. From this time, there was a striking change\nin the aspect of the Cholulans towards their guests. They were soon made\nto perceive and feel that, though invited, they were not welcome guests.\nThe daily supplies for their table were greatly diminished. They\nreceived but few and formal visits from the chiefs, and but cold\nattention from any of the nobles. Cortez was quick to perceive the\nchange, but unable to divine its meaning. It caused him many an anxious\nhour, especially when he remembered the serious and urgent\nrepresentations of his Tlascalan allies of the deceitful and treacherous\ncharacter of the Cholulans. His apprehensions were by no means\ndiminished, when he learned from the morning report of the night guards,\nthat through the entire night, which had hitherto been a season of\nperfect silence and repose in the city, sounds were heard on every side,\nas of people earnestly engaged in some works of fortification, sometimes\ndigging in the earth, sometimes laying up stones in heaps, and in\nvarious other ways, \"vexing the dull ear of night with uncouth noise.\"\nIt was found, on examination, that the streets in many places were\nbarricaded, and holes, in others, were lightly covered with branches of\ntrees. Unable to explain these matters, and not wishing to give offence\nto his entertainers by enquiring too curiously into what might be no\nmore than the ordinary preparation for a national festival, he sent one\nof his chief officers to report to the Tlascalan commander, without the\ngates of the city, and enquire what might be the meaning of these\nsingular movements. Having learned in reply, that a hostile attack was\nundoubtedly contemplated, and that a large force of Mexicans, under\ncommand of the brave Cuitlahua, brother of Montezuma, was encamped at no\ngreat distance, ready to co-operate with the Cholulans at a moment's\nwarning, and that a great number of victims had been offered in\nsacrifice, to propitiate the favor of their gods, the haughty Spaniard\nfound his position any thing but agreeable. He was a stranger to fear,\nbut he was certainly most sadly perplexed. And, when, in addition to the\ninformation already received, he learned from Marina, his female\ninterpreter, that she had been warned by a friend in the city to abandon\nthe Spaniards, that she might not be involved in their ruin, he was, for\na time, quite at a loss what to do. To retreat, would be to manifest\nfear, and a distrust of his own resources, which might be fatal to his\nfuture influence with the natives. To remain where he was--inactive,\nwould be to stand still in the yawning crater of a volcano, when the\novercharged cauldron below had already begun to belch forth sulphureous\nflames and smoke.\n\nThe character of the conqueror was one precisely adapted to such\nexigencies as this. Through the whole course of his wonderful career, he\nseems to have rushed into difficulty, for the mere pleasure of fighting\nhis way out. In order to extricate himself, he never lost a moment in\nparleying or diplomacy. His measures were bold, decided, and direct,\nindicating a self-reliance, and a confidence in his men and means, which\nis the surest guaranty of success. In this case, having satisfied\nhimself of the actual existence of a conspiracy, he sent for the chief\nrulers, upbraided them with their want of hospitality, informed them\nthat he should leave the place at break of day the next morning, and\ndemanded a large number of men, to assist in removing his baggage.\nPromising to comply with this demand, which favored the execution of\ntheir own designs, the chiefs departed, and Cortez and his band,\nsleeping on their arms, prepared for the coming conflict.\n\nPunctually, at the peep of dawn, the princes of Cholula marched into the\ncourt, accompanied by a much larger number of men than Cortez had\nrequired. With a calm bold air, the haughty Castilian confronted them,\ncharging them with treachery, and detailing all the circumstances of the\nconcerted massacre. He upbraided them with their duplicity and baseness,\nand gave them to understand that they should pay dear for their\nfalse-hearted and cruel designs against those, who, confiding in their\nhospitality and promises of friendship, had come to their city, and\nslept quietly within their gates.\n\nThunderstruck at this unexpected turn of affairs, and fearing more than\never the strange beings, who could read their very thoughts, and fathom\nthe designs which were yet scarcely matured in their own bosoms, the\ndisconcerted magnates tremblingly pleaded guilty to the charge, and\nattempted to excuse themselves, by urging their allegiance to Montezuma,\nand the duty and necessity of obeying his commands, however repugnant\nto their own feelings.\n\nIt was not the policy of Cortez to admit this plea, in extenuation of\ntheir treachery. He preferred to cast the whole burden upon them alone,\nand leave the way open for an easy disclaimer on the part of the\nemperor, hoping thereby the more readily to gain a peaceable entry into\nthe capital. Without waiting, therefore, for any further explanations,\nor instituting any inquiry into the comparative guilt of the parties, he\ngave the signal to his soldiers, who, with a general discharge of their\nartillery and fire arms, rushed upon the unprepared multitude, mowing\nthem down like grass, and trampling them under the hoofs of their\nhorses. A general massacre ensued. Not one of the chiefs escaped, and\nonly so many of their panic-struck followers, as could feign themselves\ndead, or bury themselves, till the tempest was past, under the heaps of\ntheir slain comrades.\n\nThus taken by surprise, and driven, before they were ready, into an\nunequal conflict with enemies who had, by some miracle, as they\nsupposed, anticipated their movements, and struck the first blow, the\nCholulans rushed in from all parts of their city, hoping to retrieve, by\ntheir numbers and prowess, the disadvantage of the lost onset. Cortez\nhad prepared for this. He had ordered his artillery to be stationed at\nthe main entrances to the square, where they poured in a raking fire\nupon the assailants, rushing in from all the avenues. The surprise being\nso sudden, and the leaders having been shot down at the first charge,\nconfusion and consternation prevailed among the discomfited Cholulans,\nwho alternately fled, like affrighted sheep, from the scene of\nslaughter, and then rushed back, like exasperated wolves, to the work of\ndeath.\n\nIn anticipation of this conflict, the Spanish general had concerted a\nsignal with his Tlascalan allies, without the gates, who now came\nrushing in, like hungry tigers, revelling in the opportunity to inflict\na terrible vengeance upon their ancient enemies. Falling upon their\nrear, as they crowded in from the remoter quarters of the city towards\nthe field of carnage, they drove them in upon the weapons of the\nSpaniards, from which there was now no escape. Turning upon this new\nenemy, they fought with desperate bravery, to win a retreat. But they\nwere cut down on this side and that, till the streets were scarcely\npassable for the heaps of the dead and dying that cumbered them. Those\nwho took refuge in their houses and temples, found no safety in such\nretreats, for they were instantly fired by the Tlascalans, and their\ndefenders perished miserably in the flames.\n\nThere was one scene in the midst of this desolating conflict, that was\ntruly sublime,--one of those strange combinations of moral and physical\ngrandeur, which sometimes occur in the dark annals of human warfare,\ninvesting with a kind of hallowed interest, which the lapse of ages\nserves only to soften, but never destroys, those spectacles of savage\nbut heroic cruelty, where every death is elevated into a martyrdom, and\nthe very ground saturated with human blood becomes a consecrated field,\nclothed with laurels of never-fading green. It was the last act in that\nbloody drama, enacted on the lofty summit of the great Teocalli, the\nprincipal temple of Cholula, and the centre of attraction to all the\nvotaries of the Aztec religion, throughout the wide realms of Anahuac.\nDriven from street to street, and from quarter to quarter, and falling\nback, as a forlorn hope, upon the sanctuary, and the support and\nencouragement of the hoary men, who presided over the mysteries of their\nfaith, they made a bold and desperate stand, in defence of all that was\ndear and holy in their homes and their altars. Step by step, they\ncontested this hallowed ground, till they reached the upper terrace,\nwhere the great temple stood. This was an area of four hundred feet\nsquare, at an elevation of two hundred feet from the level of the\nsurrounding streets. On this elevated platform, the furious combatants\nfought hand to hand; the priest, in his sacred garments, mingling in the\nsavage conflict with the humblest of his followers--the steel-clad\nCastilian, the Tlascalan and the Cholulan, of every rank and grade, each\neager only to slay his man, grappled in the mortal conflict, till one or\nthe other fell in the death struggle, or tumbled over the side of the\nmound, to be dashed in pieces below. As the half-armed, half-naked\nnatives melted away before the heavy and destructive weapons of the\ninvulnerable Spaniards, they were repeatedly offered quarter, but\nscorned to accept it. One only submitted, when, pierced with countless\nwounds, he could stand no longer. All the rest, to a man, fought\ndesperately till he fell, and many, even then, in the agonies of the\nlast struggle, seized their antagonists by the legs, and rolled with\nthem over the parapet, to the certain death of both.\n\nAt length the conflict ceased for want of a victim, and the conquering\nCastilian, with a few of his Tlascalan allies, stood alone, in\nundisputed possession of this lofty vantage ground. The disheartened\nCholulans, without leaders, without counsellors, seeing their sacred\ntemple in the hands of their enemies, felt that all was lost. Not\nanother blow was struck, but every where they bowed in submission to the\nirresistible conqueror.\n\nThe thunder of the artillery, and the smoke of the burning buildings,\nrising in a heavy column to the skies, announced to the Mexican army the\nconflict that was raging within the city. But, having orders not to\nengage in the fray, unless notified by the Cholulan chiefs that his\nassistance was necessary, the brave Cuitlahua was compelled to wait the\nsummons. Burning to vindicate the honor of the Mexican arms, the hero\nchafed under this cruel restraint, like a tiger chained in full view of\nhis prey. He little doubted that the Castilians would fall by the hands\nof the Cholulans, encompassed as they were on every side, with no room\nfor escape, or for the action of their horses. But he longed to have a\nshare in the victory. Drawing up his forces in the order of march, he\nstood, the whole day, in readiness to move at a moment's warning; and in\nthis attitude, he was still standing, when the tidings of the terrible\ndisaster in the city reached him.\n\nHis veteran legions were with difficulty restrained from rushing to the\nrescue. The army was almost in a state of mutiny, from their eagerness\nto avenge their slaughtered brethren in Cholula; and all the military\nauthority, and unbounded influence of Cuitlahua were required to keep\nthem in a state of due subordination.\n\nThe influence and authority of Cortez, on the other hand, were scarcely\nsufficient to restrain his victorious allies from ravaging the city, and\nputting men, women, and children to an indiscriminate slaughter. So\nbitter and pervading was the old national animosity, that life was\nscarcely worth possessing to a Tlascalan, if he must share its daily\nblessings side by side with the Aztec. He hated the whole nation with a\nperfect implacable hatred. He execrated the very name, and never uttered\nit without a curse. Of this universal malediction, the Cholulan was\nhonored with more than his appropriate share. The other subjects and\ntributaries of Montezuma they feared as well as hated. The Cholulans\nthey affected also to despise, though their contempt was not so thorough\nas to mitigate in the least their fierce and uncontrollable hatred.\n\n   [C] As Americus Vespucius, in his letter to Lorenzo Di\n   Pier-Francesco De Medici, reports having met with the lion in\n   South America, I have taken the liberty to introduce him as a\n   native in our forests, notwithstanding the prevalent opinion of\n   naturalists to the contrary.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IV.\n\n  AGITATIONS IN THE CAPITAL--THE ROYAL HOUSEHOLD--THE\n    SPANIARDS STEADILY ADVANCING.\n\n   ~For monarchs tremble on their thrones,\n      And 'neath the gem-lit crown,\n    Care, fear, and envy dwell--~\n\n           *       *       *       *       *\n\n        ~----They come,\n    Mysterious, dreaded band!\n    With clang of trumpet, torch and brand;\n    With lightning speed, with lightning power,\n    They scale the lofty mountain tower,\n    And sweep along the vale--\n    Who shall arrest their proud career,\n    And save our doomed land?~\n\n\nThis position of affairs suited the timid and vacillating policy of\nMontezuma. Finding that Cuitlahua, and his forces, had taken no part in\nthe affair, and had not even visited the city, he immediately sent an\nembassy to the Spanish camp, disclaiming all participation in the\ntreacherous counsels and doings of the Cholulans, and severely blaming\nthem for their unheard of outrage upon the rites of hospitality. Whether\nthe sharp-sighted Castilian placed any confidence in these professions,\nor not, it suited his designs to appear to do so. With the utmost\nseeming cordiality, he assured the royal messengers that it gave him the\nmost heartfelt satisfaction to know that the treatment he had received\nat Cholula was not instigated or countenanced by their august master,\nthat it was unworthy of a great and wise monarch, and that he should\nproceed on his route to the capital, with the same confidence as before,\nand visit the emperor as if nothing had happened to hinder his progress.\n\nWithdrawing the forces under Cuitlahua, and giving orders every where\nfor the hospitable reception and entertainment of the Castilians, whom\nhe had no longer the heart to oppose either by stratagem or by force,\nMontezuma retired within his palace, and for several days shut himself\nup from all intercourse with his chiefs. He was now fully convinced that\nhis destiny was sealed, and with it that of his family and crown. He was\nin the hands of an unappeasable fate. He gave himself up to fasting,\nprayer and sacrifice. He consulted all his oracles anew. But they gave\nno response. He then sought counsel of his chiefs, and the sages of his\ncourt. Here again he was distracted by the divided opinions of his\nfriends. While many of the princes, overawed by the invincible courage\nand invariable success of the Castilians, advised a frank and courteous\nreception, there was still a powerful war-party, with the brave\nCuitlahua at their head, who were eager to measure lances with the\nstrangers, and show them that, in order to reach the capital, they had\nother foes to contend with and overcome, than half savage Tlascalans, or\ntrading Cholulans.\n\nMontezuma found no difficulty in following the counsel of the majority,\nthough the mystic warning of Karee had not wholly faded from his mind. A\nnew embassy was immediately despatched, consisting of a numerous suite\nof powerful nobles, and a long train of servants bearing rich presents\nof gold, and other valuables, and charged with a message couched in\nterms of humble and earnest supplication, proposing, if the Spaniards\nwould now return, not only to send them home laden with gold to their\nutmost wish, but to pay an annual tribute of gold to their master, the\nking of Spain. Finding that this bribe only fired the grasping conqueror\nwith a more fixed determination to secure the whole prize for which he\nhad so long, and against such fearful odds, contended, the messengers\nyielded the point, and threw wide open to the dreaded foe every avenue\nto the heart of the empire, assuring him, in the name of the Emperor,\nthat he should be received as a brother, and entertained with the\nconsideration due to the powerful representative of a mighty monarch.\n\nThe march of the Spaniards was now a continued triumph. No longer\ncompelled to fight their way on, they had time to enjoy the rich and\nvaried scenery, to scale the mountain, explore the caverns and ravines\nof the sierras, and the craters of the volcanoes, and show to the\nadmiring natives, by their agility and love of adventure, that fighting\nand conquest had neither tamed their spirits, nor exhausted their\nphysical powers. As they advanced, they were continually surprised and\ndelighted with the growing evidences of civilization and high prosperity\nwhich met them on every side. In the cultivation of the land, in the\nstyle of architecture, and in all that constitutes the refinement, or\ncontributes to the comfort of life, the regions they were now\ntraversing very far exceeded the best of those through which they had\npassed. They were continually gaining more exalted ideas of the power,\nwealth and glory of the great Montezuma, and more enlarged views of the\nmagnificence of their own adventure, and the importance of their\nposition and movements. The ambition of Cortez reached to the\nviceroyalty of this splendid empire; and, though accompanied by a mere\nhandful of men, their past achievements inspired him with confidence,\nthat he could carry every thing before him.\n\nThough entertained with lordly munificence in every place through which\nhe passed, and visited and complimented by envoys from all the states\nembraced in the Mexican domain, the sagacious Spaniard relaxed none of\nhis vigilance, nor diminished aught of the strict discipline of his\nlittle corps. With an eye ever awake to his own safety, and feeling that\nthe artful contriver of one stratagem could easily invent another, he\nadvanced from post to post, in martial array, always ready for the\nexigency that might arise. His course, however, was unmolested. The\nresources and hopes of the great king seemed to have been exhausted. In\npassive despair, he was waiting for the hour of his doom.\n\nThe terror of the events we have described fell not alone upon the\nunfortunate Montezuma; nor did they affect him only as monarch of the\nrealm. As a parent, fondly devoted to his children, whose destiny was\nwrapped up in his, as the father of his people, to whom he had been a\nkind of demi-god, the vicegerent of heaven, entitled to their\nunqualified reverence, obedience and love, he felt with tenfold\nintensity the bitterness of his humiliation. In all his sufferings and\ndistresses his wives and children shared, showing, by every token in\ntheir power, their profound respect and affection, and their tender\nsympathy in all his cares.\n\nIn these lovely demonstrations of filial affection, none were more\nassiduous or warm-hearted, and none more successful in reaching the\nheart of the broken spirited monarch, or winning from him an occasional\nsmile of hope, than Tecuichpo. Just ripening into womanhood, with every\ngift of person, mind and heart that could satisfy the pride of the\nmonarch, and requite to the full the yearning love of the father, the\nfair princess lavished on him all her powers of persuasion and\ncondolence. It was all in vain. It even aggravated his sorrows; for it\nwas on _her_ account, and that of others dearer to him than his own\nlife, that he suffered most deeply. The mysterious shadows that had\nbrooded so darkly over the infancy of his lovely daughter, had never\nceased to shed a chilling gloom over his mind. Her clouded destiny was\nlinked with his, not merely as a child, but as one specifically marked\nout, by infallible signs from heaven, for a signal doom. His\nsuperstitious faith invested her and her fate with a peculiar\nsacredness. She was as one whom the gods had devoted to an awful\nsacrifice, from which neither imperial power nor paternal love could\nrescue her. It therefore pierced his soul with a deeper pang to gaze\nupon her loveliness, and witness her amiable efforts to soothe and\nsustain him in the midst of calamities that were more terrible and\noverwhelming to her, than even to himself. If, by offering himself as a\nsacrifice to his offended gods, he could have propitiated their favor\nfor his family and his people, and handed down to his posterity an\nundiminished empire and an untarnished crown, he would have gone with as\nmuch pride and pleasure, to the altar, as to a triumphal festival that\nshould celebrate his victory, and clothe his brow with unfading laurel.\nBut in this sacrifice there was no substitution. He was himself the most\ndistinguished victim, destined to the highest and hottest place on the\ngreat altar of his country, where a hecatomb would scarce suffice to\nappease the anger of the offended gods.\n\nGathering his royal household around him, he explained to them the\npeculiarity of his position, avowing his entire confidence in the\nancient prophecy, which declared that the realm of Anahuac belonged to a\nrace of white men, who had gone away, for a season towards the rising\nsun, and who, after the lapse of ages, were to return in power, and\nclaim their inheritance. It was the predestined arrangement of the gods,\nand could not be resisted. He had, from the beginning felt that\nresistance was wholly vain, and had only attempted it, in deference to\nthe urgent advice and solicitations of his best and most experienced\ncounsellors. For himself, he was ready, at any time, to stand at his\npost, and die, if necessary, in defence of his crown and his people. But\nhe could not contend with the gods. Empires and crowns, and the lives\nand happiness of nations, were at their disposal, and kings and subjects\nalike must submit to their righteous requirements. It was but the\ndictate of common piety to say \"the will of the gods be done.\" Hard and\ntrying as it was, he felt it incumbent on him to relinquish his crown\nand his honors, at their bidding, as cheerfully as he should lay down\nhis life, when his destined hour should arrive. He counselled them to\nbow submissively to their inevitable fate, in the hope that, though\nhumbled, broken and scattered in this world, they might meet and dwell\ntogether in peace in the paradise of the gods.\n\nHis wives and children wept around him. They besought him to hope yet\nfor the best--to turn away his thoughts from the dark visions on which\nhe had dwelt too long and too intensely. Their mysterious forebodings of\nevil might yet be averted, through the favor of the gods, to whom a\nchildlike, cheerful confidence in their benignity and paternal regard,\nwas more acceptable, than that blind abandonment, sometimes mistaken for\nsubmission, which views them as stern, arbitrary, and implacable\ntyrants, rather than as parents of the human family, watching over it\nfor the good of mankind, and ordering all events for the welfare of\ntheir true children.\n\nThis was a cheerful faith, and, seasonably adopted, might have saved the\nlife and throne of Montezuma, and preserved, for many years, the\nintegrity of his empire. But his heart was not prepared to receive it.\nSteeped in the dismal superstitions of the Aztec faith, and yielding\nhimself unreservedly to the guidance and dictation of its constituted\noracles, he had never, for a moment, allowed himself to falter in his\nconviction, that the Aztec dynasty was to terminate with him, and that\nhe and his family were doomed to a terrible destruction, in the\noverthrow of the sacred institutions of his beloved land.\n\nThe scene was too thrilling for the tender heart of Tecuichpo, and she\nswooned away in the arms of her father, who had drawn her towards him in\nan affectionate embrace. The attendants were called, and, as soon as the\nunhappy princess was restored to consciousness, the king directed the\nroyal barges to be prepared, and went out, with all his household, to\nenjoy the invigorating air of the lake, and seek relief from the dark\nthoughts that oppressed and overwhelmed them, in contemplating, from\nvarious points in view, the rich and varied scenery of that glorious\nvalley.\n\nIt was a brave spectacle to behold, when the imperial majesty of\nTenochtitlan condescended to accompany his little fleet on such an\nexcursion. The gaily appointed canoes, with their gorgeous canopies of\nembroidered cotton, and feather-work; the splendid robes and plumes of\nthe king and his attendants; the rich and fanciful attire of the women;\nthe light, graceful, arrowy motions of the painted skiffs, as they\ndanced along the waves; together with the wonderful beauty of the lake,\nand its swimming gardens of flowers, presented a _toute ensemble_ more\nlike the fairy pictures of some enchanted sphere, than any thing we can\nnow realize as belonging to this plain, prosaic, matter-of-fact world of\nours. On this occasion, it seemed more gay and fairy-like than ever, in\ncontrast, perhaps, with the deep gloom that had settled on the land,\npervading every heart, with its sombre shadows.\n\nThe light pirogues of the natives, flying hither and thither over the\nglassy waters, on errands of business or of pleasure, arrayed in\nflowers, or freighted with fruits and vegetables for the grand market of\nTenochtitlan, made way, on every side, for the advance of the royal\ncortege, which, threading the shining avenues between the gaily-colored\n_chinampas_, that spotted the surface of that beautiful lake, like so\nmany islands of flowers on the bosom of the ocean, danced over the\nwaters to the sound of music, and the merry voices of glad hearts,\nrejoicing in the sunny smiles that now played on the countenance of the\nking, as if the clouds that had so long overshadowed it, were never to\nreturn. Tecuichpo, restored to more than her wonted gaiety, was full of\nlife and animation. Never had she seemed, in the eyes of her doting\nfather, and of the admiring courtiers, half so lovely as at this moment.\nShe was the centre attraction for all eyes. Her resplendent beauty, her\nfairy-like gracefulness of motion, and the artless simplicity of her\nmanners, won the admiring notice of all. Her gaiety was infectious. Her\nmerry laugh reached, with a sort of electric influence, every heart in\nthat bright company, and compelled even her father to abandon, for the\ntime, his sad and solemn reflections, and give himself up to the spirit\nof the hour and the scene.\n\nGuatimozin was there, and exerted all his eloquence to keep up the\nspirit of the hour, in the earnest hope that Montezuma would put on all\nthe monarch again, and assert the majesty of his insulted crown, and the\nrights of his house and his people, in despite of omen or legend, and in\nthe face of every foe.\n\nTecuichpo became more and more animated, till she seemed quite lifted\nabove herself and the world about her. Suddenly rising in the midst, and\npointing, with great energy of expression, to the royal eagle of\nMexico, then sweeping down from his mountain eyrie, to prey upon the\nocelot of the distant valley, she exclaimed--\n\n      'Tis he! 'Tis he! our imperial bird!\n        Whom the gods to our aid have sent;\n      I saw him in my dream, and heard,\n        As down from his airy flight he bent,\n    His victor shout, with the dying wail,\n    Of the coming foe, borne on the gale;\n    While the air was dark with the gathering throng\n    Of bold young eaglets, that swept along\n    From every cliff, in fierceness and wrath,\n    To gorge on their prey, in the mountain path.\n\nWhen she ceased, an echo from a richly cultivated chinampa, which they\nwere then passing, seemed to take up and prolong the strain.\n\n    I saw it too, and I heard the scream,\n    In the midst of my dark and troubled dream;\n    'Twas a dream of despair for our doomed land,\n    For his wings were bound by the royal hand;\n    His talons were wreathed with a golden chain,\n    He smelt the prey, and he chafed in vain,\n    For they trampled him down, in their brave career,\n    While our monarch looked on with unmanly fear,\n    Till his crown and his sceptre in dust were laid low,\n    And proud Tenochtitlan had passed to the foe.\n\nThe last words of this solemn chant died away on the ear, just as the\nroyal barge rounded the little artificial promontory, which the\ningenious Karee had constructed, for the double purpose of an arbor and\nlook-out, at one of the angles of her chinampa. Leaning over the brow,\nand supporting herself by the overhanging branch of a luxuriant myrtle,\nshe dropped a wreath of evergreen upon the head of Tecuichpo, and said--\n\n      Oh! child of doom,\n    Thy long sealed destiny is come--\n      One brief, dark, dreadful night,\n    Then on those blessed eyes\n      Another day shall rise,\n    Fair, glorious, bright,\n      With an unearthly endless light.\n        Thou shall lay down\n        An earthly crown,\n    To win a starry sceptre in the skies\n\nAt this moment, signals were heard among the distant hills, which,\nanswered and repeated from countless stations along the wild sierras,\nand reverberated by a thousand echoes as they came, burst upon the quiet\nvalley, like the confused shouts of a mighty host rushing to battle. It\nfell like a death-knell upon the ear of Montezuma. It announced the\narrival, within the mountain wall which encompassed his golden valley,\nof the dreaded strangers. It heralded their near approach to his\ncapital, and the exposure of all he held dear to their irresistible\npower--their terrible rapacity. His heart sunk within him. But he had\ngone too far to retract. It was the act of the gods, not his. Banishing\nfrom his mind the impressions of the scenes just passed, he waved his\nhand to the rowers, and instantly every prow was turned, and the gaily\ncaparisoned, but melancholy, terror-stricken pageant moved rapidly back\nto the city.\n\nTenochtitlan was now alive with the bustle of preparation. It was the\npreparation, not for war, which would far better have suited the\nmultitude both of the chiefs and the people, but for the hospitable\nreception and entertainment of the strangers. The great imperial palace,\nwhich had been the royal residence of the father of Montezuma, was\nfitted up for their accommodation. With its numberless apartments, its\nspacious courts, and magnificent gardens, it was sufficient for an army\nmuch larger than that of the Castilians, swelled as it was by the\ncompany of their Tlascalan allies. Every room was newly hung with\nbeautifully colored tapestry, and furnished with all the conveniences\nand luxuries of Mexican life. The appointments and provisions were all\non a most liberal scale, for the Emperor was as generous and munificent\nas the golden mountains from which he drew his inexhaustible treasures.\n\nIntending that nothing should be wanting to the graciousness of his\nsubmission to this act of constrained courtesy, Montezuma proposed to\nhis brother Cuitlahua, to choose a royal retinue from the flower of the\nAztec nobility, and go out to meet the strangers; and bid them welcome,\nin his name, to his realm and his capital. From this the soul of the\nproud undaunted soldier revolted, and he entreated so earnestly to be\nexcused from executing a commission, so much at variance with his\nfeelings and his convictions, that the monarch relented, and assigned\nthe mission to Cacama, the young prince of Tezcuco.\n\nNothing could exceed the gorgeous splendor of this embassy. Borne in a\nbeautiful palanquin, canopied and curtained with the rarest of Mexican\nfeather-work, richly powdered with jewels, and glittering with gold,\nCacama, preceded and followed by a long train of noble veterans and\nyouths, all apparelled in the gayest costume of their country, presented\nhimself before the advancing host. His approach, and the errand on which\nhe came, having been announced by a herald, Cortez halted his band, and\ndrew up his forces in the best possible array, to give him a fitting\nreception.\n\nThe meeting took place at Ajotzinco, on, or rather within, the borders\nof the lake Chalco, the first of the bright chain of inland lakes which\nthe Spaniards had seen, and the place where they first saw that species\nof amphibious architecture, which prevailed so extensively among the\nMexicans. When the royal embassy arrived in front of the waiting army,\nCacama alighted from his palanquin, while his obsequious officers swept\nthe ground before him, that he might not soil his royal feet, by too\nrude a contact with the earth. He was a young man of about twenty five\nyears, with a fine manly countenance, a noble and commanding figure, and\nan address and manners that would have done honor to the most courtly\nknight of Christendom. Stepping forward with a bland and dignified\ncourtesy, he made the customary Mexican salutation to persons of high\nrank, touching his right hand to the ground, and raising it to his head.\nCortez embraced him as he rose, and the prince, in the name of his royal\nmaster, gave the strangers a hearty welcome, assuring them that they\nshould be received with a hospitality, and treated with a respect,\nbecoming the representatives of a great and mighty prince. He then\npresented Cortez with a number of large and valuable pearls, which act\nof munificence was immediately returned by the present of a necklace of\ncut glass, hung over his neck by Cortez. As glass was not known to the\nMexicans, it probably had in their eyes the value of the rarest jewels.\n\nThis interview being over, the royal envoy hastened back to the capital,\nwhile the Castilians and their allies, in the two-fold character of\nhostile invaders and invited guests, followed his steps by slow, easy\nand cautious marches. After a few days, during which they passed through\nlarge tracts of highly cultivated and fertile ground, and several of the\nbeautiful towns and cities of the plateau, they arrived at Iztapalapan,\na place of great beauty, and large resources, and the residence of\nCuitlahua, the noble brother of Montezuma. At the command of the\nEmperor, Cuitlahua, as governor of this place, received the strangers\nwith courtesy, and treated them with attention. But it was a cold\ncourtesy, and a constrained attention. With a proud and haughty mien,\nthe brave soldier exhibited to the wondering strangers, all the riches\nand curiosities of the place, disposing every thing in such a manner as\nto impress them most powerfully with the immense wealth of the empire,\nand the irresistible power of the Emperor. He collected around him all\nthe richest and most potent nobles in his neighborhood, and displayed a\nmagnificence of style, and a prodigality of expenditure, that was truly\nprincely. The extent and beauty of his gardens, his beautiful aviary,\nstocked with every variety of the gorgeously plumed birds of that\ntropical clime, his menagerie, containing a full representation of all\nthe wild races of animals in Anahuac, struck the Spaniards with surprise\nand admiration; while the architecture of his palaces, and the many\nrefinements of his style of living, gave them the highest ideas of the\nadvanced state of civilization to which the Mexicans had attained.\n\nBut, so far from disheartening them in their grand design, all they saw\nof wealth and splendor in the inferior cities, only served to inflame\ntheir desire to see the capital, and learn if any thing more brilliant\nand wonderful than they had yet seen, could be furnished at the great\nmetropolis. While they were daily more and more convinced of the power\nand resources of their enemy, and the seeming impossibility of their own\nenterprise, they were also daily more and more inflamed with the desire\nand purpose to possess themselves of the incalculable treasures which\nevery where met their eyes. The cold aspect, and lofty bearing of the\nPrince Cuitlahua, the commander-in-chief of the Mexican armies, and heir\napparent to its throne, left no doubt that the final struggle for power\nwould be ably and bitterly contested, and that the wealth they so\nardently coveted, would be dearly bought. To a heart less bold and\nself-reliant than that of Cortez, it would have been no enviable\nposition, to be shut up, with his little band of followers, within the\ngates of a city, commanded by so brave and experienced a soldier, whose\npersonal feelings and views were known to be of the most hostile\ncharacter. To the iron-hearted Castilian, it was but a scene in the\nprogress of his romantic adventure; and, the greater the difficulty, the\nmore imminent the peril, the more cordially he trusted to his good\ngenius, or his patron saint, he seems not to have known which, to carry\nhim triumphantly through.\n\nThey were now but one day's march, and that a short and easy one, from\nthe imperial city. Already they had seen it from a distance, resting,\nor rather riding, on the bosom of the lake, glowing and glittering in\nthe sunbeams, like some resplendent constellation, transferred from the\nazure above to the azure below. They had seen its noble ally, the\nmetropolis of the sister kingdom of Tezcuco, shining in rival though\nunequal splendor, on the opposite shore of the lake, and many other\nsplendid cities, beautiful towns, and lovely hamlets, studding its\nbright border, in its entire circuit, like mingled gems and pearls,\nrichly set in the band of the imperial diadem, all reposing under the\nshadow, and eclipsed by the superior glory, of the capital, the crowning\njewel of the Western World. They had seen the _chinampas_, those\nwandering gardens of verdure and flowers, seeming more like the fairy\ncreations of poetry, than the sober realities of life, and reminding\nthem of those islands of the blest, which they had been told, in their\nchildish days, floated about in the ethereal regions above, freighted\nwith blessings for the virtuous, and sometimes stooping so near to earth\nas to permit the weary and the waiting to escape from their toils and\ntrials here, and find repose in their celestial paradise. They had seen\nand admired the wonderful works of art, the causeways of vast extent,\nconstructed with scientific accuracy, and of great strength and\ndurability--the canals and aqueducts, and bridges, which would have done\nhonor to the genius and industry of the proudest nation in Europe. It\nnow remained to them to see the imperial lord of all these wide and\nluxuriant realms, and to enter, as invited guests, into the gates of his\nroyal abode.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER V.\n\n  ARRIVAL OF THE SPANIARDS AT THE CAPITAL--THEIR RECEPTION\n    BY MONTEZUMA--DETERMINED HOSTILITY OF GUATIMOZIN.\n\n   ~Hark! at the very portals now they stand,\n    Demanding entrance. Can I shut them out,\n    When all the gods commission them to come?\n    Can we admit them, and preserve intact\n    Our honor and the state?~\n\n\nThe spectacle of this day, the eighth of November, 1519, has not its\nparallel in the annals of history, and will probably never be repeated\nin the history of man. The sovereign and absolute monarch of a populous\nand powerful empire, stooping from his imperial throne, flinging wide\nopen the gates of his capital, and condescending to go out, and receive\nwith an apparent welcome an invading foe, whom he had in vain attempted\nto keep out, but whom he had now the power to crush under his feet in a\nmoment. That invading foe consisted only of a few hundred adventurers,\nthree thousand miles from home, in the heart of the country they had\nravaged, and surrounded by countless thousands of exasperated foes,\nburning to revenge the injuries and insults they had received at the\nhands of the strangers, and only held back from rushing upon them, like\nherds of ravening tigers, by the strong arm of the royal prohibition.\nTheir position was like that of a group of children in a menagerie,\namusing themselves with teasing and exasperating the caged animals\naround them. The furious creatures glare on them with looks of rage,\ngrowling fiercely, and gnashing their teeth. The keeper sympathizes with\nhis enraged subjects, burning to let them loose upon their annoyers, but\nrestrained by that mysterious agency, in which the divine hand is every\nwhere moulding and subduing the natural impulses of humanity, and\nworking out its own wise ends by the wrath and passions of men.\n\nLet the keeper but raise the bar of that cage for a moment, and not one\nof the bright group would be left to tell the tragic issue of their\nsport. Let the terror-stricken Montezuma put on once more the air of a\nmonarch, and raise his finger as a signal for the onset, before the\nenemy has become entrenched in his fortress, and few, if any, of that\nbrave band would be left to tell the world of their fate--the marvellous\nstory of the Conquest would never be told; the Aztec dynasty would\noutlive the period assigned it by those mystic oracles; and Montezuma,\nrecovered from the dark dreams of an imagination disordered by\nsuperstition--the long dreaded crisis of his destiny passed--would have\nswayed again the sceptre of undisputed empire over the broad and\nbeautiful realms of Anahuac. Having once vanquished and destroyed the\nterrible strangers, and stripped them of that supernatural defence,\nwhich the idea of their celestial origin threw around them, he would\nnever again have yielded his soul to so unmanly a fear. If such had\nbeen the issue of the invasion of Cortez and his band, it is doubtful\nwhether the Aztec dynasty would ever have been overthrown. The\ncivilization of Europe would soon have been engrafted upon its own.\nChristianity would have taken the place of their dark and bloody\npaganism; which, with a people so far enlightened as they were, could\nnot have endured for a moment the noon-day blaze of the gospel; and the\nterrible power of that heathen despot would have been softened, without\nweakening it, into the consolidated colossal strength of an enlightened,\nChristian, peaceful empire. Christianity propagated by fire and sword\nconsumes centuries, and wastes whole generations of men, in effecting a\nrevolution, which they who go with the olive branch in their hand, and\nthe gospel of peace in their hearts, require only a few years to\naccomplish. Witness the recent triumphs of a peaceful Christianity in\nthe Sandwich Islands, as contrasted with the bloody and wasting Crusades\nof Spaniards in all portions of the new world.\n\nWith the earliest dawn, the reveille was beaten in the Spanish camp, and\nall the forces were mustered and drawn up in the order of their march.\nCortez, at the head of the cavalry, formed the advanced guard, followed\nimmediately by the Castilian infantry in solid column. The artillery and\nbaggage occupied the centre, while the dark files of the Tlascalan\nsavages brought up the rear. The whole number was less than seven\nthousand, not more than three hundred and fifty of whom were Spaniards.\nPutting on their most imposing array, with gay flaunting banners, and\nthe stirring notes of the trumpet, swelling over lake and grove, and\nrolling away in distant echoes among the mountains, they issued forth\nfrom the city, just as the rising sun, surmounting the eastern\ncordillera, poured the golden stream of day over the beautiful valley,\nand lighted up a thousand resplendent fires among the gilded domes, and\nenameled temples of the capital, and the rich tiara of tributary cities\nand towns that encircled it. Moving rapidly forward, they soon entered\nupon the grand causeway, which, passing through the capital, spans the\nentire breadth of the Tezcucan lake, constituting then the main\nentrance, as its remains do now the principal southern avenue, to the\ncity of Mexico. It was composed of immense stones, fashioned with\ngeometrical precision, well laid in cement, and capable of withstanding\nfor ages the play of the waters, and the ravages of time. It was of\nsufficient width, throughout its whole extent, to allow ten horsemen to\nride abreast. It was interrupted in several places by well built draw\nbridges for the accommodation of the numerous boats, that carried on a\nbrisk trade with the several towns on the lake, and for the better\ndefence of the city against an invading foe. At the distance of about\nhalf a league from the capital, it was also traversed by a thick heavy\nwall of stone, about twelve feet high, surmounted and fortified by\ntowers at each extremity. In the centre was a battlemented gateway, of\nsufficient strength to resist any force that could be brought against\nit, by the rude enginery of native warfare. This was called the Fort of\nXoloc.\n\nHere they were met by a very numerous and powerful body of Aztec nobles,\nsplendidly arrayed in their gayest costume, who came to announce the\napproach of Montezuma, and again in his name to bid the strangers\nwelcome to the capital. As each of the chiefs presented himself, in his\nturn, to Cortez, and made the customary formal salutation, a\nconsiderable time was consumed in the ceremony; which was somewhat more\ntedious than interesting to the hot spirited Spaniards.\n\nWhen this was over, they passed briskly on, and soon beheld the\nglittering retinue of the Emperor emerging from the principal gate of\nthe city. The royal palanquin, blazing with burnished gold and precious\nstones, was borne on the shoulders of the principal nobles of the land,\nwhile crowds of others, of equal or inferior rank, thronged in\nobsequious attendance around. It was preceded by three officers, bearing\ngolden wands. Over it was a canopy of gaudy feather-work, powdered with\njewels, and fringed with silver, resting on four richly carved and\ninlaid pillars, and supported by four nobles of the same rank with the\nbearers. These were all bare-footed, and walked with a slow measured\npace, as conscious of the majesty of their burden, and with eyes bent on\nthe ground. Arrived within a convenient distance, the train halted, and\nMontezuma, alighting from his palanquin, came forward, leaning on the\narms of his royal relatives, the lords of Tezcuco and Iztapalapan. As\nthe monarch advanced, under the same gorgeous canopy which had before\nscreened him from the public gaze, and the glare of the mid-day sun, the\nground was covered with cotton tapestry, while all his subjects of high\nand low degree, who lined the sides of the causeway, bent their heads\nand fixed their eyes on the ground, as unworthy to look upon so much\nmajesty. Some prostrated themselves on the ground before him, and all\nin that mighty throng were awed by his presence into a silence that was\nabsolutely oppressive.\n\nThe appearance of Montezuma was in the highest degree interesting to the\nSpanish general and his followers. Flung over his shoulders was the\n_tilmatli_, or large square cloak, manufactured from the finest cotton,\nwith the embroidered ends gathered in a knot round his neck. Under this\nwas a tunic of green, embroidered with exquisite taste, extending almost\nto his knees, and confined at the waist, by a rich jeweled vest. His\nfeet were protected by sandals of gold, bound with leathern thongs\nrichly embossed with the same metal. The cloak, the tunic, and the\nsandals were profusely sprinkled with pearls and precious stones. On his\nhead was a _panache_ of plumes of the royal green, waving gracefully in\nthe light breeze.\n\nHe was then about forty years of age. His person was tall, slender, and\nwell proportioned. His complexion was somewhat fairer than that of his\nrace generally. His countenance was expressive of great benignity. His\ncarriage was serious, dignified and even majestic, and, without the\nleast tincture of haughtiness, or affectation of importance, he moved\nwith the stately air of one born to command, and accustomed to the\nhomage of all about him.\n\nThe strangers halted, as the monarch drew near. Cortez, dismounting,\nthrew his reins to a page, and, supported by a few of his principal\ncavaliers, advanced to meet him. What an interview! How full of\nthrilling interest to both parties! How painfully thrilling to\nMontezuma, who now saw before him, standing on the very threshold of\nhis citadel, the all-conquering white man, whose history was so\nmysteriously blended with his own; whose coming and power had been\nforeshadowed for ages in the prophetic traditions of his country,\nconfirmed again by his own most sacred oracles, and repeated by so many\nsigns, and omens, and fearful prognostics, that he was compelled either\nto regard him as the heaven-sent representative of the ancient rightful\nlords of the soil, or to abandon his early and cherished faith, the\nreligion of his fathers, and of the ancient race from which they sprung.\n\nPutting a royal restraint upon the feelings which almost overwhelmed\nhim, the monarch received his guest with princely courtesy, expressing\ngreat pleasure in seeing him personally, and extending to him the\nhospitalities of his capital. The Castilian replied with expressions of\nthe most profound respect, and with many and ample acknowledgments for\nthe substantial proofs which the Emperor had already given of his more\nthan royal munificence. He then hung on the neck of the king a sparkling\nchain of colored crystal, at the same time making a movement, as if he\nwould embrace him. He was prevented, however, by the timely interference\nof two Aztec lords from thus profaning, before the assembled multitudes\nof his people, the sacred person of their master.\n\nAfter this formal introduction and interchange of civilities, Montezuma\nappointed his brother, the bold Cuitlahua, to conduct the Spaniards to\ntheir quarters in the city, and returned in the same princely state in\nwhich he came, amid the prostrate thousands of his subjects. Pondering\ndeeply, as the train moved slowly on, upon the fearful crisis in his\naffairs which had now arrived, his ear was arrested by a faint low voice\nin the crowd, which he instantly recognized as Karee's, breathing out a\nplaintive wail, as if in soliloquy with her own soul, or in high\ncommunion with the spirits of the unseen world. The strain was wild and\nbroken, but its tenor was deeply mournful and deprecatory. It concluded\nwith these emphatic words--\n\n    The proud eagle may turn to his eyrie again,\n    But his pinions are clipped, and his foot feels the chain,\n    He is monarch no more in his wide domain--\n    The falcon has come to his nest.\n\nWith an air of bold and martial triumph, their colors flying, and music\nbriskly playing, the Spaniards, with the singular trail of half savage\nTlascalans, the deadly enemies of the Aztecs, made their entrance into\nthe southern quarter of the renowned Tenochtitlan, and were escorted by\nthe brave Cuitlahua, to the royal palace of Axayacatl, in the heart of\nthe city, once the residence of Montezuma's father, and now appropriated\nto the accommodation of Cortez and his followers.\n\nAs they marched through the crowded streets, new subjects of wonder and\nadmiration greeted them on every side. The grandeur and extent of the\ncity, the superior style of its architecture, the ample dimensions,\nimmense strength, and costly ornaments of the numerous palaces, pyramids\nand temples, separated and surrounded by broad terraced gardens in the\nhighest possible state of cultivation, and teeming with flowers of every\nhue and name--the lofty tapering sanctuaries, and altars blazing with\ninextinguishable fires,--and above all, the innumerable throngs of\npeople who swarmed through the streets and canals, filling every\ndoor-way and window, and clustering on the flat roof of every building\nas they passed, filled them with mingled emotions of admiration,\nsurprise and fear.\n\nThe swarming myriads of the Aztecs were, on their part, no less\ninterested and amazed at the spectacle presented by their strange\nvisitors. An intense and all-absorbing curiosity pervaded the entire\nmass of the people. Nothing could surpass their wonder and admiration of\nthe prancing steeds, or four legged and double-headed men, as to their\nsimple view they seemed to be, the rider as he sat with ease in his\nsaddle, appearing to be but a part of the animal on which he rode. The\npiercing tones of the loud mouthed trumpets, astonished and delighted\nthem exceedingly. But the deep thunder of the artillery as it burst upon\nthem amid volumes of sulphurous smoke and flame, and then rolled away in\nlong reverberated echoes among the mountains, filled them with\nindescribable alarm, and made them feel that the all-destroying god of\nwar was indeed among them in the guise of men.\n\nWhile these scenes were enacting in the city, the palace was shrouded in\nthe deepest gloom. When the monarch arrayed himself, in the morning, to\ngo forth to meet the strangers, several incidents occurred, which were\ndeemed peculiarly ominous, confirming all the superstitious forebodings\nof the king, and tending to take away from the yet trusting hearts of\nhis household, their last remaining hope. The imperial clasp, which\nbound his girdle in front, bearing as its device, richly engraven on the\nprecious _chalchivitl_, the emblem of despotic power, which was the\neagle pouncing upon the ocelot--snapped in twain, scattering the\nfragments of the eagle's head upon the marble pavement. The principal\njewel in the royal diadem was found loose, and trembling in its setting.\nBut, more portentous than all to the mind of the devout Montezuma, the\npriest, who had charge of the great altar on the Teocalli of\nHuitzilopotchli, had been seized with convulsions during the preceding\nnight, and fallen dead at his post. The perpetual fire had gone out, for\nwant of a hand to replenish it, and when the morning sun shot his first\nbeams upon that high altar, there was not a spark among the blackened\nembers, to answer his reviving glow.\n\nIt was impossible to shake off the influence of presages like these.\nFrom infancy, he had been taught to read in all such incidents, the\nshadowy revealings of the will of the gods, the dark lines of destiny\nforeshown to the faithful. The soul of Montezuma was oppressed almost to\nsinking. But he roused himself to his task, and went forth, feeling, as\nhe went, that the ground trembled beneath his feet, while an untimely\nnight gathered at noon-day over the sky.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nAmong the noble princes who graced the court of Montezuma, there was no\none of a nobler bearing, or a loftier heart, than his nephew Guatimozin,\nthe favored lover of Tecuichpo. Unlike her disappointed suitor, the\nPrince of Tezcuco, he had uniformly and powerfully opposed the timid\npolicy of the king, and urged, with Cuitlahua, a bold and unyielding\nresistance to the encroachments of the intruding Spaniards. His\nreluctance to their admission to the capital was so great, that he\nrefused to witness the humiliating spectacle; preferring to shut himself\nup in the palace, and sustain, if he could, the fainting courage of the\nprincess, and her mother. All that could be done by eloquence, inspired\nby patriotic zeal and inflamed by a pure and refined love, was attempted\nby the accomplished youth, till, excited and inflamed by his own efforts\nto comfort and persuade others, and nerved to higher resolves, by a new\ncontemplation of the inestimable heart-treasures, which were staked upon\nthe issue, a new hope seemed to dawn upon the clouded horizon of their\ndestiny.\n\n\"My fair princess,\" cried the impassioned lover, \"it shall not be. These\nwide and glorious realms, teeming with untold thousands of brave and\npatriotic hearts, ready and able to defend our altars and our hearths,\nshall never pass away to a mere handful of pale-faced invaders. They\n_must_, they _shall_ be driven back. Or, if our gods have utterly\ndeserted us--if the time has indeed come, when the power and glory of\nthe Aztec is to pass away for ever, let the Aztec, to a man, pass away\nwith it. Let us perish together by our altars, and leave to the\nrapacious intruder a ravaged and depopulated country. Let not one remain\nto grace his triumph, or bow his neck to the ignominious yoke.\"\n\n\"Nay, my sweet cousin,\" she replied, with a tone and look of\nindescribable tenderness, \"we will indeed die together, if need be, but\nlet us first see if we cannot live together.\"\n\n\"Live?\" exclaimed Guatimozin. \"Oh! Tecuichpo, what would I not attempt,\nwhat would I not sacrifice, to the hope of living, if I might share\nthat life with you. But my country! my allegiance! how can I sacrifice\nthat which is not my own?--that inheritance which was all my\nbirth-right, and which, as it preceded, must necessarily be paramount\nto, all the other relations of life.\"\n\n\"But, my father! dear Guatimozin! must he not be obeyed?\"\n\n\"Yes, and he shall be. But he _must_ be persuaded, even at this late\nhour, to dismiss the strangers, and banish them for ever from his\ndomains. He has no right to yield it up. It belongs to his subjects no\nless than to him. He belongs to them, by the same sacred bond that binds\nthem all to him. He may not sacrifice them to a scruple, which has in it\nmore of superstition than of religion. I must go to the Temple of\nCholula, and bring up the hoary old prophet of Quetzalcoatl, and see if\nhe cannot move the too tender conscience of your father, and persuade\nhim that his duty to his gods cannot, by any possibility, be made to\nconflict with his duty to his empire, and the mighty family of dependent\nchildren, whom the gods have committed to his care.\"\n\n\"Oh! not now, Guatimozin, I pray you. Do not leave us at this terrible\nmoment. Stay, and sustain with your courageous hopes the sad heart of my\ndear father, who is utterly overwhelmed with the dire omens of this\ndismal morning.\"\n\n\"Omens! Oh! Tecuichpo, shall we not rather say that the gods have thus\nfrowned upon our cowardly abandonment of their altars, than that they\ndesign, in these dark portents, to denounce an irreversible doom, which\nour prayers cannot avert, nor our combined wisdom and courage prevent?\"\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nAt this moment Montezuma returned. But the deep distress depicted in his\ncountenance, and the air of stern reserve which he assumed in the\npresence of those whose counsels would tend to shake his resolve,\neffectually prevented Guatimozin from pursuing, at that moment, the\nobject nearest his heart. He retired into the garden, where he was soon\njoined by the fair princess, who wished to divert him from his purposed\nvisit to Cholula, knowing full well it would be a fruitless mission.\n\n\"But why, my brave cousin, may not my father be right, in feeling that\nthese strangers are sent to us from the gods? And if from the gods, then\nsurely for our good; for the gods are all beneficence, and can only\nintend the well-being of their children, in all the changes that befal\nus here. Perhaps these strangers will teach us more of the beings whom\nwe worship, and direct us how we may serve them better than we now do,\nand so partake more largely of their favor.\"\n\n\"Alas! my beloved, how can we hope that they who come to destroy, whose\nonly god is gold--to the possession of which they are ready to sacrifice\nlife, love, honor, every thing--how can we hope that they will teach us\nany thing better or higher than we learn from the ancient oracles of our\nfaith, and the holy priesthood of our religion? No, it cannot be. Their\npathway is drenched in blood, and so it will be, till the throne, and he\nwho honors it, are laid in dust at their feet, and you and I, and all\nthe myriads of our people, have become their abject slaves.\"\n\n\"Say not so, I beseech you, dear Guatimozin. Where my father leads, I\nmust follow, and hope for the best. And you must follow too, for I\ncannot go without you. Here, take this rose, and wear it as a pledge to\nme, over this sparkling fountain, that you will no more hazard the\nimperial displeasure, and the anger of the gods, by your bold and rash\nresistance of the known decrees of fate. And I will weave a chaplet of\nthe same, to lay upon the altar, to propitiate for us all the favor of\nheaven.\"\n\nThere was too much real chivalry in the heart of Guatimozin, to resist\nthe earnest love and eloquent persuasion of his lady-love. He kissed her\nfair cheek in token of submission to her sway, and then led her to the\npalace, to learn if any thing new had transpired to encourage his hope\nthat his wishes would yet be realized, in the exclusion of the Spaniards\nfrom the city. As they passed along, they heard Karee-o-than, the\ngarrulous pet of the Princess, seemingly soliloquising among the\nbranches of the flowering orange that hung over her favorite arbor. They\npaused a moment, but could gather nothing from his chatterings but\n\"Brave Guatimozin! noble Guatimozin! all is yours.\"\n\n\"An omen! my sweet cousin, a genuine emphatic omen! Even Karee-o-than\nencourages me in my treason. I wish I knew how she would respond to the\nname of this redoubtable Cortez. Pray ask her, Tecuichpo, what she\nthinks of the Spaniard.\"\n\n\"Fear you not to trifle thus?\" asked Tecuichpo.\n\n\"Fear not, brave Guatimozin!\" responded the parrot.\n\n\"There, I have it again, my love; all she says is against you. And what\ndo you say of Malinche, pretty Karee-o-than?\"\n\n\"Poor Malinche! brave Guatimozin.\"\n\n\"Bravo!\" exclaimed the Prince, \"the bird is as good as an omen, and\nI\"----\n\nAt that moment, Karee appeared, and coming towards them in great haste\nand trepidation, informed them that the Spaniards had already reached\ntheir quarters in the old palace, and that Montezuma had gone thither,\nin royal state, to receive them.\n\n\"And what think you of all these things, my fairy queen,\" asked\nGuatimozin, playfully.\n\n\"Wo! wo! wo! to the imperial house of Tenochtitlan!\" energetically\nreplied Karee,--\"its glory is departed for ever,--its crown has fallen\nfrom the head of the great Montezuma, and there is none able to wear it,\nor to redeem it from the hand of the spoiler. Thou, most noble Prince,\nwilt do all that mortal courage and prowess can do, to rescue it from\ndesecration, and to protect the house of Montezuma from the cruel fate\nto which he has delivered it up; but it will be all in vain. _He_ must\nperish by an ignominious death. _They_ must pass under the yoke of the\nstrangers, and thou, too, after all thy noble struggles and sacrifices,\nmust perish miserably under their cruel and implacable rapacity.\"\n\nThis was too much for Tecuichpo. She looked upon Karee as an inspired\nprophetess, and had always found it exceedingly difficult to sustain the\nfilial confidence which sanctified every act and every purpose of her\nroyal father, when the powerful incantations of Karee were directed\nagainst them. It was a continual struggle between an affectionate\nsuperstition, and filial love. But that first, and holiest, and\nstrongest instinct of her heart prevailed, and she clung the more warmly\nto her father, when she found that every thing else was against him. But\nnow the shaft had pierced her at another and an unguarded point. Her\nspirit fainted within her. She swooned in the arms of Guatimozin, and\nwas borne to her apartment in a state of insensibility, where, under the\nkind and skilful nursing of Karee, and the affectionate assurances of\nGuatimozin, she was soon restored to health, and her accustomed\ncheerfulness. But these ceaseless agitations, these painful alternations\nof hope and fear, were slowly wearing upon her gentle spirit, and\nundermining a frame so delicately sensitive, that, like the aspen,\n\n    ------It trembled when the sleeping breeze\n    But dreamed of waking.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VI.\n\n  MUNIFICENCE OF MONTEZUMA--THE ROYAL BANQUET--THE\n    REQUITAL--THE EMPEROR A PRISONER IN HIS OWN PALACE.\n\n   ~\"Was that thunder?\"~\n\n           *       *       *       *       *\n\n   ~Those splendid halls resound with revelry,\n    And song, and dance lead on the tardy dawn.~\n\n           *       *       *       *       *\n\n   ~From the hall of his fathers in anguish he fled,\n    Nor again will its marble re-echo his tread.~\n\n\nMontezuma was always and every where munificent. When he had, though\nreluctantly, admitted the strangers into his capital, he prepared to\ngive them a royally hospitable entertainment. Partly by way of triumph\nin the success of their movements hitherto, and partly by way of\namusing, and at the same time overawing their entertainers, the\nSpaniards, the day after their arrival in the city, made a grand\nmilitary display in their quarters, and in the neighboring streets. They\nexercised their prancing steeds in all the feats of horsemanship,\nracing, leaping, and careering, in all the wild majesty of the trained\ncharger, under the three fold discipline of bit and spur, and cheering\nshout. They rushed upon each other in the mock warfare of the\ntournament, with clashing sword and glancing spear, and then,\ndischarging their carbines in the air, separated amid clouds of dust and\nsmoke, as if driven asunder by the bolts of heaven in their own hands.\nThe astonished natives, accustomed only to the simple weapons of\nprimitive warfare, looked on with undisguised admiration, not unmixed\nwith fear. The strange beings before them, wielding such unwonted\npowers, seemed indeed to have descended upon earth from some higher\nsphere, and to partake of that mysterious and fearful character, which\nthey had been wont to ascribe to inhabitants of the spiritual world. But\nwhen, in closing off the day's entertainment, they brought out the\nloud-mouthed artillery, and shook the very foundations of the city with\ntheir oft-repeated thunders, the spirit of the Aztec sunk within him,\nand he felt, as he retired to his dwelling, that it was for no good end,\nthat men of such power, having such fearful engines at their command,\nhad been permitted to fix their quarters in one of the fortresses of\nTenochtitlan.\n\n\"Alas!\" said an ancient Cacique from the northern frontier, \"we are\nfallen upon evil times. Our enemies are even now in the citadel--enemies\nwhom we know not, whose mode of warfare we do not understand, whose\nweapons defy alike our powers of imitation and resistance. Let us\nabandon the field, and retire to the far north, whence our fathers came,\nand rear a new empire amid the impregnable fastnesses of the mountains.\"\n\n\"Who talks of abandoning the field to the enemy?\" interrupted\nGuatimozin,--\"Let no Aztec harbor so base a thought. Rather let us\nstand by our altars and die, if die we must.\"\n\n\"Right,\" cried the youthful prince Axayatl, from the southern slope of\nthe Sierra, \"why should the all-conquering Aztec tremble at this display\nof the mysterious strangers? Are not the millions of Anahuac a match for\na few hundred of their enemies, in whatever form they come? Be they\ngods, or be they demons, they belong not to this soil, nor this soil to\nthem, and, by all our altars and all our gods, they must retire or\nperish, though we, and our wives, and our children perish with them.\"\n\n\"Give us your hand, brave Axayatl,\" exclaimed Cuitlahua and Guatimozin,\nat the same instant, \"be that our vow in life and in death, and wo to\nthe base Aztec, that abandons the standard of Montezuma, or whispers of\nsubmission to the haughty stranger.\"\n\nThus were the councils of the people divided between a timid\nsuperstition, and a bold uncompromising patriotism. There wanted not the\nmaterial, if well directed, to annihilate, at a blow, the hopes of the\ndaring invaders. The arm of the nation was strong and sinewy, but \"the\nhead was sick, and the heart faint.\" The Emperor, the hitherto proud and\nself-sufficient Montezuma,--\n\n    Like a struck eagle fainting in his nest,\n\nhad cowered to a phantom of his own diseased imagination, and weakly\nconsented to regard _them_ as gods, whose passions, appetites and vices\nproved them to be men, and whose diminished numbers, after every battle\nthey had fought, showed they were of mortal mould.\n\nOn the following day, a magnificent banquet was prepared for Cortez, and\nhis officers, in the imperial palace. It was graced by the presence of\nall the nobility of Azteca, with all the pride and beauty of their\nhousehold divinities--for, among this refined people, the wife and the\ndaughter held her appropriate rank, and woman exercised all the\ninfluence, which, among (so called) civilized nations, Christianity\nalone has assigned her. Every apartment of that spacious and magnificent\npile blazed with the light of odoriferous torches, which sent up their\nclouds of incense from hundreds of gold and silver stands, elaborately\ncarved and embossed in every form that fancy could suggest, or ingenuity\ninvent. Flowers of every hue and name were profusely distributed through\nthe rooms, clustered in beautiful vases, or hung in gorgeous festoons\nand luxurious chaplets from the walls. The costume of the monarch and\nhis court was as rich and gorgeous, as the rare and variegated\n_plumage_, with a lavish use of gold and gems, could make it. The women\nwere as splendidly apparelled as the men. Many of them were extremely\nbeautiful. Some were distinguished for their easy refinement of manners,\nwhich charmed, no less than it astonished, the Castilian knights, who\nhad been accustomed to suppose that nothing so beautiful, or refined,\ncould be found without the borders of Spain.\n\nBy special command of the Emperor, all his nobles were present at this\nfestival, so that Guatimozin, contrary to his own will and purpose, was\nbrought into contact with Cortez, and his steel-clad cavaliers.\nTecuichpo also was there, in all her maiden loveliness, outshining all\nthe stars of that splendid galaxy. And yet she was as a star in\neclipse, for her soul was oppressed with those mysterious shadows that\nhung over her destiny and that of her father, as connected with the\ncoming of these white men. Karee was there in attendance upon her\nmistress, as she still delighted to call her; but her attention was more\nabsorbed by the strangers than by Tecuichpo. She watched every movement,\nand scanned every countenance with a scrutiny that did not escape their\nobservation, in order to read, as well as she could, the character of\neach. Her scrutiny satisfied herself, and she whispered in the ear of\nthe Princess, that \"if these were gods, they came from the dark, and not\nfrom the sunny side of heaven.\"\n\nIt was a rare spectacle, which this royal banquet presented. The\ncontrast between the steel-clad cavaliers of Castile, whose burnished\narmor blazed and glittered in the brilliant torch-light, and rung under\ntheir heavy martial tramp upon the marble floor, and the comparatively\nfairy figures of the gaudily apparelled Aztecs, was as strong as could\npossibly be presented in a scene like this. The costumes and customs of\neach were matter of wonder and admiration to the other. The Aztec\ntrembled at the mysterious power, the incomprehensible weapons, of the\nwhite man. The Castilian, if he did not tremble, fully appreciated the\ndanger of a little band, separated and scattered among a festive throng\nof warlike men, amid the interminable labyrinths of the imperial palace,\nand under the eye of a monarch whose word was absolute law to all the\nmyriads of his people.\n\nBut, whatever was passing in the inner man, the Aztec and the Castilian,\nalike, appeared perfectly at ease, each abandoning himself to the\nfestivities of the occasion, as if each, unannoyed by the presence of a\nstranger, were revelling in the security of his own castle, and\ncelebrating some time-honored festival of his own people.\n\nWith a benign dignity and grace, the Queen, and her suite of high-born\nladies, received the homage of the cavaliers, after they had been\npresented to the Emperor. She was struck with admiration at the graceful\nand dignified bearing of the Castilian, which, while it showed all the\ndeference and respect due to her sex and her rank, had nothing in it, of\nthat abject servility, which placed an impassable barrier between the\nAztec noble and his monarch, and made them appear to belong to distinct\nraces of being. To the chivalrous, impassioned Castilian, accustomed to\nworship woman, and pay an almost divine homage to beauty, in the courtly\nhalls and sunny bowers of Spain, the scene presented a perfect\nconstellation of grace and loveliness. The flashing eye of the Aztec\nmaiden, as lustrous and eloquent as any in the gardens of Hesperides;\nthe jetty tresses, glittering with gems and pearls, or chastely\ndecorated with natural flowers; the easy grace of the loose flowing\nrobe, revealing the full rich bust and the rounded limb, in its fairest\nproportions, won the instant admiration of every mailed knight, and\nbrought again to his lips his oft-repeated vows of love and devotion.\n\nBut of little avail were honied lips and eloquent tongues to the gallant\ncavaliers at that magic fete. They formed no medium of communion with\nthe bright spirits, and gay hearts around them. The doom of Babel was on\nthem all, and there was no interpreter. Nothing daunted by obstacles\nseemingly insurmountable, the gay Spaniards resolved, that, where bright\neyes were to be gazed on, and sweet smiles won from the ranks of youth\nand beauty, they would make a way for themselves. The first ceremonies\nof presentation over, each knight addressed himself to some chosen fair\none, and by sign and gesture, and speaking look, and smile of eloquent\nflattery, commenced a spirited pantomimic attack, to the infinite\namusement of all the gay throng around. It was met with wonderful\nspirit, and ready ingenuity, by the Aztec maidens, to whom the dialect\nof signs, and the language of hieroglyphics was perfectly familiar; that\nbeing the only written language of all the nations of Anahuac.\n\nThe spirit and interest of the scene that followed surpasses all attempt\nat description. Abandoned to the gaiety of the hour, the Spaniards\nforgot alike their schemes of ambition and aggrandisement, and the\npeculiar perils which surrounded them; while the Aztec revellers\ndismissed, for the moment, both their superstitious dread of the white\nman, and their patriotic disgust at his daring pretensions to universal\ndominion.\n\nThe noble Sandoval, attracted by the mild beaming eye, and sweet smile\nof the Princess Tecuichpo, with a profound obeisance, laid his plumed\nhelmet at her feet, and choosing, from a vase at her side, a half blown\nrose, which he gracefully twined with a sprig of amaranth, he first\npressed it to his own heart and lips, and then placed it among the\nglittering gems upon her bosom. With queenly courtesy and grace, the\nfair princess received this gallant token, and instantly responded to\nit, by stooping down, and weaving among the plumes, so courteously laid\nat her feet, another, of such rare beauty and brilliancy of hue, that it\nquite eclipsed the gayest feather in the hall.\n\nCortez and Alvarado were, each in his turn, struck with the deep, dark,\npiercing eye of Karee, and each put forth his best endeavor to win from\nher a smile. But it was so coldly given, and accompanied with a look so\ndeep and searching, that the general quailed before it, as he had never\ndone before to mortal eye.\n\nInstantly recovering himself, he put on such a smile of blended grace\nand dignity, as melted at once the icy reserve of the maiden, and opened\nthe way for a long and animated parley. It was full of sparkles and\npower, but could not be translated into any living tongue, without\nlosing all its force and brilliancy.\n\nMeanwhile, an animated discussion had arisen between Guatimozin and the\nPrince of Tezcuco, touching the propriety of receiving gifts from the\nstrangers, or, in any way, acknowledging their claims as friends. The\nshowy trinket, which Cacama had received from Cortez at Ajotzinco, and\nwhich he displayed on his person at this festival, gave rise to the\ndispute.\n\n\"It is wrong,\" urged Guatimozin, \"wrong to our country and wrong to\nourselves. Let them gain what they can from the exuberant munificence of\nthe Emperor, and let them stay in peace, while he permits and requires\nit,--but let us not weaken our hands, by touching their gifts, or\naccepting their tokens. When they depart, let them not boast that they\nhave left any remembrancer behind them, or laid claims upon our hands,\nby their gifts, which we have freely accepted.\"\n\n\"Surely, my dear cousin,\" said the Princess, \"you make too much of so\nsmall a matter. They are but common courtesies, and too trifling for\nsuch grave consideration and argument.\"\n\n\"Not so, believe me, my fair cousin. They take us on the weak side of\nthe heart--they blind our eyes to our true relations, unnerve our arms,\nand blunt our weapons of defence.\"\n\n\"What then would you do,\" asked Cacama, as if more than half persuaded\nthat Guatimozin was right in his views of duty.\n\n\"Do,\" replied the Prince, with startling energy of tone and manner, \"I\nwould fling it at his feet, or trample it under my own, before his eyes,\nand show him that I scorn him and his gifts alike.\"\n\nTecuichpo turned suddenly round at this remark, as if fearing the\nstranger would understand it, and in her agitation, dropped a\nmagnificent jewel from her dress, and with it the rose so gallantly\npresented by Sandoval. A dozen princes and cavaliers sprang, at the same\ninstant, to replace the precious toy. Pedro Orteguilla, the beautiful\nyoung page of Cortez, was so fortunate as to recover it. Doffing his\ncap, and kneeling gracefully at her feet, he presented it to the\nPrincess with an air of admiring deference, and, by signs, solicited the\nhonor of replacing it upon her arm.\n\nThis little incident put an end to the discussion, which was growing too\nwarm for the occasion, and the festivities went on as gaily as before.\n\nA group of sprightly, mischief loving girls, who had clustered round the\ncool basin of a sparkling _jet d' eau_, and were amusing themselves by\nfree and fearless comments upon the appearance and manners of the\nstrangers, arrested the eye of the impulsive, humor loving Alvarado, and\ndrew him to solicit a share in their sport; for, in beating a retreat\nfrom the eagle glance of Karee, he had strolled into an illuminated\narbor, in one of the open courts of the palace. With hand, and eye, and\nlip, now appealing in emphatic gesture to the stars above, and now, with\nready tact and admirable sagacity distributing the flowers among the gay\nnaiads of the fountain, he soon ingratiated himself into their favor,\nand engaged them in a brilliant and animated pantomime, which, if it\nwanted the eloquence of words, found ample compensation for that defect,\nin the merry shout and ringing laugh, that accompanied each labored\nattempt to utter, or interpret, a sentiment. The gallant cavalier soon\nfound himself loaded with a profusion of floral favors. For every flower\nhe bestowed upon the fair nymphs, he received an appropriate return,\ntill his hands were full, and he found it necessary to arrange them upon\nhis person.\n\nInstantly the whole group, as by one impulse of artistic taste, seized\nthe idea, and resolved to array him as a flower-god. The magnificent\ncactus flashed among the plumes of his helmet--a pair of splendid\nmagnolias, tastefully adjusted on either shoulder, supplied the place of\nthe silver epaulette--a rich cluster of unfading _forget-me-not_,\ncovered and eclipsed the gilded star upon his breastplate; while every\njoint in his armor, and every loop and button of his doublet, was set\nwith its appropriate garden gem. Long wreaths of a blossoming vine were\ndexterously intertwined with flowers of every brilliant hue, and hung\nlike a gorgeous sash over his right shoulder, its gay streamers waving\nin the gentle breeze, or winding themselves about the scabbard of his\nsword. His hands were gloved with a moss of the most delicate green\nvelvet, dotted with golden stars, and his boots transformed into buskins\nof the most approved classic pattern, by alternate bands of jessamine\nand scarlet lobelia, crossed and plaided with strings of anemone and\nhyacinth.\n\nThus arrayed, his face skilfully masked with the flowering wax-plant\ndespoiled of its leaves, he was conducted into the presence of the\nQueen, under a continually increasing escort of bright girls and fair\ndames, where, with due reverence to her majesty, and with the gallantry\nbecoming a true knight, he begged, by significant looks and signs, to be\npermitted to lay all his bright honors at the feet of the lovely\nTecuichpo.\n\nThe signal being given at this moment, he offered his arm to the\nPrincess, and led the way into the banqueting hall, where the luxuries\nof all the climes of earth seemed to be spread out in endless profusion,\nand where, the native song of the Aztec alternating with the martial\nstrains of the Castilian band, the night wore away with feasting and\nrevelry.\n\nThe day had almost dawned, when the strangers, laden with presents of\ninestimable value, returned to their quarters, burdened with the weight\nof their treasures, and deeply impressed with the more than regal\nmunificence of their host, and the unimagined loveliness and grace of\nthe fair beings, who gave life and beauty to his magnificent court.\n\n\"If these white gods can be bought, dear father,\" the Princess naively\nremarked, as they took their leave, \"you have surely paid a price worthy\nof the ransom of the proudest monarch on earth.\"\n\n\"The more you bribe them,\" interrupted Guatimozin, \"the less you bind\nthem. They have not the soul of an Aztec, who scorns to receive a favor\nthat does not pledge his heart in return. The Spaniard's heart has\nnothing to do with his hand. He takes your gift, only to be the better\nable to plot and compass your ruin.\"\n\nThe Emperor sighed, as he listened to a remark, to which he could make\nno reply. It brought again before his agitated mind, the only course he\ncould safely adopt in the present crisis of his affairs. In vain did his\npaternal heart second the suggestion, and his kingly pride urge its\nimmediate adoption. He had not the moral courage to execute his own\nresolve. Superstition had wholly unmanned him.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThe victorious Spaniard had now reached the goal he had so long aimed\nat. But his position was far from agreeable, or promising. With a small\nforce, he was completely shut up in the heart of an immense and powerful\nempire, teeming with millions of warriors, who were deemed terrible and\ninvincible by those whom he had found so formidable, and who might, at a\nword or a look from their sovereign, either rush in and overwhelm him at\nonce, or withhold all supplies, and leave them to perish of famine in\ntheir quarters.\n\nCortez realized the critical position into which he was drawn, and\nresolved immediately on one of his bold measures, to turn it to his own\nadvantage. Soliciting an interview with Montezuma, in which he was\naccompanied by some of his bravest cavaliers, he informed the monarch,\nthat it was not an idle curiosity that had drawn him to encounter the\nperils, and undergo the toils, of the adventure that had brought him to\nthe capital. He came, as the accredited ambassador of the mighty monarch\nof Castile, to whom many kings and many broad lands were tributary, and\nwho was the rightful lord of all the territories on which his armies had\nset their foot. And the object of the present interview was, to demand\nof the king an acknowledgment of his allegiance to his royal master, and\nhis consent to pay an annual tribute for his crown.\n\nThe mind of the superstitious Montezuma had long been preparing for this\nacknowledgment. With little apparent constraint, therefore, he responded\nto this haughty demand--that the oracles of his religion had long ago\ninstructed him, that the territories over which he reigned belonged to a\nrace of white men, who had removed to other lands beyond the rising sun,\nbut would return, in process of time, invested with more than mortal\npower, to claim their original inheritance. For his part, he was fully\nconvinced that that time had now arrived--that the Spaniards were the\nmen of destiny foretold by a long line of presages and traditions, and\nthat he was fully prepared to acknowledge the king of Castile as his\nlord, and pay allegiance to him as such.\n\n\"And recognize me,\" interposed the wily Castilian, \"as his accredited\nambassador, and representative?\"\n\nThe monarch assented.\n\nThe Aztec nobles, who surrounded the throne, were thunderstruck at the\nhumble tone, and humiliating attitude assumed by their once proud and\nimperious lord. But they were accustomed to unqualified and\nunquestioning submission to the word of the king. They accordingly, at\nhis command, gave a full assent to all that he had said, and agreed to\nrecognize Cortez as the representative of their new sovereign.\nGuatimozin left the hall in disgust, and hastened to Iztapalapan, to\nreport the progress of their humiliation to Cuitlahua.\n\nEven with this arrangement, which had been accomplished so much more\neasily than he had expected, Cortez was by no means satisfied. He was\nstill in the power of the Mexican, and could never feel safe in the\nposition he held, without some substantial pledge, that the peace of the\ncity would be preserved, and the ground he had already secured be left\nto him in undisturbed possession. To secure this, he conceived and\nexecuted a bolder and more audacious measure than that which we have\njust related. Soliciting another and a private interview with the\nEmperor, and directing his best and bravest cavaliers, with some of\ntheir chosen men, to keep near and about the palace, and be in readiness\nto sustain and defend him, if any resistance or outbreak should follow\nhis daring attempt, he entered the royal presence. As the Spaniards\nalways carried their arms, it excited no suspicion, to see them on this\noccasion fully equipped.\n\nThis disposition of his men and officers being effected, the bold\ncavalier addressed himself, in a stern voice, to the Emperor, charging\nhim with secretly designing the destruction of his guests, and alleging,\nin support of the charge, some of the incidents already related, and\nothers of more recent occurrence, in which some of the vassals of\nMontezuma had surprised and slain a party of Spaniards, who relied upon\ntheir hospitality. These were artfully woven into a tale of imaginary\nwrongs, for which he boldly pretended to claim instant redress, or\nrather security against their repetition.\n\nThe monarch was thunderstruck at the charge, while he, as well as the\nfew attendants that remained near his person, with difficulty restrained\nthe expression of their indignation at the disrespectful tone of the\naddress, so unlike that to which the royal ears were accustomed. He\nperemptorily denied the charge. But Cortez was not to be foiled thus. He\nknew that he had now gone too far to retract, and that the change of\nfeeling now produced would ensure his speedy destruction, if he failed\nof securing the object of the present interview. He, therefore, repeated\nthe charge, assuring the monarch that such was the belief of all his\nmen, and that nothing would convince them of his innocence, or make them\nwilling to rest quietly in the capital, but the consent of the king to\ntransfer his residence, for a time, to their quarters. And this he\nboldly demanded of him, in the name of their common sovereign, the great\nking of Castile, and he could not refuse obedience, without breaking\nallegiance with him.\n\n\"When was it ever known,\" exclaimed the astonished and offended king,\n\"that the monarch of a great people voluntarily left his own palace, to\nbecome a prisoner in the camp of a foreign nation. If I should consent\nto such indignity, my own subjects would every where cry out against it,\nand a storm would be raised, which could only be hushed when the last\nSpaniard was sacrificed to the outraged honor of their king, and the\nwrath of their offended gods.\"\n\n\"No, my imperial lord,\" replied the politic and smooth tongued knight,\n\"your majesty entirely misapprehends my meaning, and the position in\nwhich I would place you. I only propose a temporary removal from one of\nyour royal palaces to another, a thing of frequent occurrence, and\ntherefore not likely to excite remark among your people. You can bring\nall your household and your court with you, and have the same royal\nattendance, as you now do. This show of confidence and regard, on your\npart, will inspire my men with new confidence in your kind intentions,\nand give stability in the eyes of your own people, to the friendly\nrelations existing between us.\"\n\nMontezuma still protested that it was unworthy the dignity and majesty\nof the sovereign lord of Anahuac, thus to submit his motions to the\ndirection of strangers, as it was a daring presumption and impiety, on\ntheir part, to suggest it. He therefore, peremptorily declined the\nproposal, and requested the general to say no more about it, if he would\nretain the position he now held in his regard, and that of his people.\n\nUpon this, the iron-souled Castilian assumed a loftier aspect, and a\nbolder tone, and abruptly assured the monarch that it was a point he was\nnot at liberty to dispense with. If he would not remove peaceably and\nquietly to the Spanish quarters, he must be carried there forcibly,\nthough it should involve a struggle that should drench the palace in\nblood, and sacrifice the life of every man in his army.\n\nSuddenly, the spirit of the monarch was gone. His old dread of the\nwhite man revived in all its power. He felt himself compelled by his\ndestiny, to do as he was required. Signifying his assent to the haughty\ndemand of the stranger, he ordered his nobles to make ready his\npalanquin, that he might go in royal state, and not appear in the eyes\nof his subjects, as he passed along, as a prisoner in his own capital.\n\nWith looks of astonishment, not unmingled with indignation, the proud\nchiefs obeyed, marching under their royal burden, with solemn pace and\ndowncast looks, in utter silence, but nursing in their hearts an\nimplacable hatred against the insulting Castilians, and a burning rage,\nwhich was yet to burst upon their devoted heads in an overwhelming storm\nof wrath. As they passed the threshold of the imperial palace, which\ntheir once proud but now humbled lord was never to recross, they heaved\na deep sigh, as if the dark shadows of the future already hung\nfrowningly over their heads. It was responded to by a deep, mysterious,\nsepulchral groan, which seemed to issue from the very heart of the\nearth, while, at the same instant, a royal eagle, sailing proudly over\nthe capital, struck by an invisible leaden messenger from one of the\nsure-sighted marksmen in the Castilian camp, fluttered in his lofty\nflight, drooped his strong wing, and, with a terrible death shriek, the\nblood streaming freely from his wound, fell into the court, at the very\nfeet of the royal procession.\n\nThe fate of Montezuma, and of his empire, was now sealed. He had, with\nhis own hand, taken the crown from his head, and laid it at the feet of\nthe Spaniard. And, more than all, he had humbled himself in the eyes of\nhis own subjects, and diminished, though few were hardy enough to avow\nit, the profound respect and reverence with which they were accustomed\nto regard him. To his own immediate household, he had represented this\nremoval as a voluntary act of courtesy, on his part, designed to\ncompliment the strangers, by becoming, for a time, their guest, and to\ninspire them, by his personal presence among them, with confidence in\nhis professions of regard, as well as to show his own people how strong\nthe bond of amity was between them. At the same time, however, that he\nassured them of his personal safety and his confidence that all would\nend well, he recommended his wives and children to leave him, for the\npresent, and take up their abode in his rural mountain palace at\nChapoltepec.\n\nThe timid and sensitive Tecuichpo was thrown into the deepest distress\nby this suggestion. She could not doubt the repeated assurances of her\nroyal father, and yet she could not divest herself of the sad impression\nthat his liberty, and perhaps his life, was in danger, in thus\nseparating himself from the strong arms and devoted hearts of his own\npeople, his natural protectors, and throwing himself, unarmed, into the\ngarrison of the fearful strangers. What security could she have that he\nwould ever return, or that violence would not be offered to his sacred\nperson by those who looked upon him only as the vassal of their own\nsovereign, to be used for his purposes and theirs, as their own\nselfishness and rapacity might dictate.\n\n\"Leave us not, my dear father,\" she exclaimed, \"or at least compel not\nus to leave _you_. Rather in darkness and in trouble than at any other\ntime, would we stand at your side, to administer, as far as we may, to\nyour comfort, and to share, and perhaps lighten, your sorrows.\"\n\n\"Nay, my beloved child,\" the grateful monarch calmly replied, \"I have no\nneed, at this time, of your solace, or your counsel. I go among friends,\nwho respect my person and my authority, and who well know that their own\nsafety in Tenochtitlan, depends entirely upon retaining my friendship,\nwhich alone can shield them from being overwhelmed, and swept away like\nchaff, before the countless hosts of my warrior bands. Why then should I\nfear for myself. But for you, and your mother, and your sisters, the\ncamp of the strangers is not a fitting place for you. They have customs\nof their own, and are slow to recognize the propriety of ours, deeming\nus, as they do, an inferior race of beings. They are bold and free in\ntheir manners, quite too much so for the refined delicacy of an Aztec\nmaiden, or an Aztec matron, as you yourself both saw and felt, at the\nfestival of their reception. How shall I expose you to the rude gaze of\nthese foreign cavaliers, and perhaps to the rude speeches of their\nsoldiers. No, my beloved, go to your retirement at Chapoltepec, and\ntrain the flowers there for my coming, which will be at the approaching\nfestival of the new moon.\"\n\n\"But will you certainly come to us then, my dear father? Karee says\"----\n\n\"Trouble me not with the dreams of Karee, my sweet child. They are not\nalways as loyal as they should be. I believe I am right in what I am now\ndoing, and I cannot be diverted from it by the mystic night visions of\nyour favorite. Go, and the gods be with you.\"\n\nSo saying, he tore himself from her embrace, and returned to his own\napartments to attire himself for the removal.\n\nThe fiery, high spirited Guatimozin was so disgusted with this act of\nsuicidal cowardice, on the part of his royal master, that he withdrew at\nonce from the city, taking with him his servants and retainers, as well\nas his immense private treasures, and took up his abode at his country\npalace or castle, where he lived in all the pseudo-regal state and\nmagnificence of a feudal baron, or a petty sovereign. Here he opened a\ncorrespondence with a large number of the principal nobles of the realm,\nwho, like him, felt that the time had come to prepare for a terrible\ncrisis. They concerted no measures, for they dared not move openly\nwithout the command or assent of their master; but they exchanged\nsentiments, and encouraged each other in their patriotic purpose, to\ndefend their country from subjugation to a foreign foe, and their altars\nfrom desecration.\n\nPassing Chapoltepec on his way, the noble Prince sought an interview\nwith his lovely mistress, to inform her that, while the pledge he had\ngiven, in accepting the proffered rose, over the sparkling fountain of\nTenochtitlan, should be sacredly regarded, he must be allowed to see\nwith his own eyes, when danger was near, and to raise his arm in her\ndefence, and in that of his country, from whatever quarter the\nthreatened danger might come. He found her, bathed in tears, wandering\nwildly up and down, amid the shade of the tall cypresses that overhang\nand almost bury that mountain retreat. Her raven hair had escaped from\nits pearl-studded band, and was flying loosely in the breeze; the wonted\nbloom was gone from her cheek, and the brilliant lustre of her dark\nflashing eye had given way to a sad and subdued expression, which was\nmore in keeping with the uniform mildness and gentleness of her spirit.\nSeparated from her adored parent, and banished from the city of her love\nand her pride, she began to feel more deeply than she had ever done, the\nterror of those dark omens which had clouded her destiny, and marked her\nout as the doomed Princess of Anahuac. While she could cling to her\nfather, and feel that she was to share all that might befal him, and\nperhaps, by sharing it, extract some portion of the bitterness from the\ncup which he was compelled to drink, she was calm and hopeful. But now,\nthe sheet-anchor of her soul was gone, and she was drifting, at the\nmercy of the waves, she knew not whither.\n\n\"My sweet cousin,\" said Guatimozin gently, as he arrested her flying\nstep, \"why this sudden abandonment to grief and despair. Dark as the\nclouds may be over our heads, all is not lost. Know you not, my love,\nthat ten thousand times ten thousand brave hearts and strong arms are\npledged, by every bond of loyalty and love, to rush to the rescue, the\nmoment that any violence is offered to the sacred person of our lord. Be\nassured not a hair of his head shall be touched.\"\n\n\"Ah! my brave Guatimozin! I know full well your courage and your zeal.\nBut of what avail to us will be the direst vengeance your arms can wreak\non the strangers, after the violence is done, and the honored head of\nmy father--oh! that I should live to speak it!--laid low at their feet!\"\n\n\"Fear not, my beloved, they dare not, with all their boasted power, they\ndare not lay a rude hand upon that sacred person. They know, they feel,\nthat they are treading on a mighty volcano, that may burst out at any\nmoment, and overwhelm them in hopeless destruction. It is this sense of\nimpending danger only that has induced them to invite the Emperor to\ntheir quarters, and so to urge their suit, that he could not, as their\nprofessed friend, deny it. While he is there, they will feel safe, for\nhis hand alone can stay the pent up fires, that they break not forth at\nonce. Fear not. I go to-night to Iztapalapan, to confer with your royal\nuncle, the intrepid Cuitlahua. The noble Cacama joins us there,\nconvinced already that his was a mistaken policy, when he counselled\nyour father to receive the strangers courteously, and treat them as\nfriends.\"\n\n\"And what can Cacama do?\"\n\n\"That is yet to be seen. He is convinced of his error, and is ready to\natone for it with his life. With Cacama, with Cuitlahua, with a thousand\nmore like them--chiefs who never feared danger, and never knew\ndefeat--why should we despair, or even doubt?\"\n\n\"But how know you, Guatimozin, that these Castilian strangers regard\ntheir own safety as any way involved in that of Montezuma?\"\n\n\"I gathered it from the oracle, my love, and from omens which never\ndeceive.\"\n\n\"What oracle? What omens? I pray you explain?\"\n\n\"The omens were their own troubled looks and clouded brows, while this\nstrange negotiation was pending, and the guarded watchfulness, with\nwhich they now protect their guest, and prevent the intrusion upon his\nprivacy of any considerable number of his friends, at the same time.\"\n\n\"Prince Guatimozin, do I understand the import of those terrible words?\nIs my father already a prisoner in his own palace?\"\n\n\"What else, my sweet cousin, seeing he cannot come forth, if he would,\nand we can only approach him by permission?\"\n\n\"O ye gods! has it come to this? Fly, Guatimozin. Fly to Iztapalapan. I\nrelease you from your pledge. Sound the alarm throughout the realm. And,\nif need be, _I_ will arm, and with you to the rescue.\"\n\n\"Not so fast, brave princess; it is just this rashness that may endanger\nthe precious head we would rescue. His life is safe at present; let us\nnot put it to hazard, by moving too soon, or striking a useless blow.\"\n\n\"But I see not yet, my dear cousin, how it is ascertained that my father\nis secure from further outrage. May it not be their policy to take away\nthe head, hoping thus to dishearten and distract our people, and make\nthem an easy prey to their victorious arms.\"\n\n\"If so, they know not the spirit of the Aztec. To a man, throughout\nthese broad realms, they would shed their last drop, to avenge the foul\nsacrilege, nor rest in their work of vengeance, till every altar in the\nland was drenched in the blood of the captive foe. But you forget that I\nhave oracle as well as omen to sustain my faith.\"\n\n\"What oracle has condescended, at last, to give us light? I thought\nthey had all been silent, not deigning, since the advent of these\nmysterious strangers, any response to our prayers.\"\n\n\"Karee is never deaf, or silent, where the welfare of Tecuichpo is\nconcerned.\"\n\n\"Karee?\"\n\n\"Yes, love, Karee! I want no better or more trusty oracle. She has, you\nknow, a sort of ubiquity. Nothing escapes her keen observation. Few\nmysteries are too deep for her sagacity to unravel. In her brief\noccasional encounters with the strangers, she has gathered the meaning\nof not a few of the words of their strange tongue. What she has once\nheard she never forgets. Presuming that no one could understand them,\nthey have talked freely and boldly in her presence. And it is from her\nthat I learn, that the Castilian general said to one of his officers, as\nhe crossed the court yard, this morning--'While we have the Emperor with\nus, we are safe. We must see to it, he does not escape.'\"\n\n\"Escape?\" shrieked the agitated Princess; \"then he is indeed a prisoner.\nBut these white men are gods, are the gods treacherous?\"\n\n\"The gods of the deep are all treachery, but not those of the blue\nfields and bright stars above us. But, be they gods from below, or gods\nfrom above, they are not the gods of Anahuac, nor shall they claim a\nfoot of its soil, till it is drenched with the blood of the Aztec.\nFarewell. Fear not. I will yet see you return in triumph to the imperial\nhalls of Tenochtitlan.\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VII.\n\n  TREACHERY AND RETRIBUTION--MASSACRE OF THE AZTEC\n    NOBILITY--DEATH OF MONTEZUMA.\n\n   ~And bloody treason triumphed.~\n\n           *       *       *       *       *\n\n             ~Feeling dies not by the knife;\n    That cuts at once and kills; its tortured strife\n    Is with distilled affliction, drop by drop\n    Oozing its bitterness. Our world is rife\n    With grief and sorrow; all that we would prop,\n    Or would be propped with, falls; where shall the ruin stop?~\n\n\nPassing lightly over some of the subsequent incidents of this stirring\nperiod, we must hasten to the catastrophe of our long drawn tale.\n\nSecure in the possession of his royal prisoner, Cortez now thought he\nmight safely leave the capital, for a while, and respond to a demand\nwhich pressed urgently upon him, to relieve his little colony at Vera\nCruz, threatened with destruction, not by the natives, but a new band of\nadventurers from Spain, who had come to dispute the spoils with the\nconquerors. Leaving one of his principal officers in command, with a\npart of the forces, he placed himself at the head of the remainder, and\nmarched quietly off on his new expedition.\n\nAlvarado was a brave knight, but of a rash and headlong disposition, and\nutterly destitute of that cool prudence and far-seeing sagacity which\nwas requisite for so important a station. He soon involved himself in a\nmost wicked and unjust quarrel with the Aztecs, which had well nigh\noverwhelmed him and his diminished band in utter ruin.\n\nNot long after the departure of Cortez, one of the great national\nfestivals of the Aztecs occurred, at which the flower of the nobility,\nnot of Tenochtitlan alone, but of all the neighboring cities and towns,\nwere present. They came only to the peaceful performance of the wonted\nrites of their religion, and consequently came unarmed. Their numbers\nwere very great. They were all apparelled in the richest costume of\ntheir country. Their snow white vestments, their splendid mantles of\nfeather-work, powdered all over with jewels; their sandals of gold or\nsilver, and their gaudy head-dresses of many-colored plumes, made an\nimposing and magnificent display, as they moved in solemn procession, to\nthe simple music of their shells and horns, towards the court yard of\nthe great Teocalli, where the festival was to be celebrated. The immense\narea was thronged with the gay multitude of worshippers, who,\nunsuspicious of treachery, gave themselves up to the wild dances and all\nthe customary evolutions of Indian festivity. In the midst of their\nsolemn sports, Alvarado, with his band of armed followers, rushed in,\nlike so many tigers let loose upon their prey, and put them to an\nindiscriminate slaughter. Scarce one of that gay company escaped the\nruthless massacre. The holy place was drenched with the best blood of\nAnahuac, and mourning, desolation, and wo were carried into all the\nprincipal families in the land.\n\nIt was a fearful stroke, and fearfully was it repaid upon the heads of\nthe guilty murderers. On every side the cry of vengeance arose, and its\nhoarse murmurs came rolling in upon the capital, like the distant\nhowlings of a gathering tempest. Myriads of outraged Aztecs, smarting\nand chafing under their wounds, and thirsting for a worthy revenge,\nthronged the avenues to the capital, and demanded the treacherous\nstrangers to be offered in sacrifice to their offended gods. Guatimozin,\nand many other brave, powerful, fearless chiefs were there, eager to\nseize the opportunity to chastise the insolent intruder. Day after day,\nthey stormed the quarters of the beleaguered foe, pouring in upon them\nvollies of arrows, darts and stones, that sorely discomfited, though it\ncould not dislodge them. Every assailable point was so well guarded by\nthose terrible engines of destruction, the fire-belching artillery, that\nthe assailants, numerous as they were, and spurred on by an ungovernable\nrage, could make but little impression upon them. Nevertheless, they\nwould inevitably have carried the defences, and swept away the little\nband of ruthless murderers, had not Montezuma interposed, and besought\nthem, for his sake, to desist from their hostile attacks. From regard to\nhis safety, they suspended their active operations, but did not\nrelinquish their settled purpose of vengeance.\n\nOne means of annoyance was left to them, which would soon have reduced\nthe fortress to submission, had not an unexpected succor arrived. All\nsupplies were cut off from the camp,--already famine began to stare\nthem in the face, and relax the iron sinew and with it the iron will, of\nthe haughty Castilian. They were beginning to be reduced to extremities.\nA few days more, and the undefended garrison would have fallen into the\nhands of those merciless avengers of blood, who would have doomed every\nindividual to the sacrifice.\n\nAt this critical juncture, the all powerful, invincible Cortez returned,\nhis forces greatly increased by the accession of the very band that had\nbeen sent against him--Narvaez, who had been commissioned to displace\nhim, having become his friend, and arrayed himself, with his whole\ncompany and munitions of war, under his banner. Hearing of the\ndisastrous position of his friends in the capital, he hastened with\nrapid strides and forced marches to their relief. His progress was\nunimpeded by any hostilities on the part of Aztecs, or their allies,\ntill he entered the city, and joined his forces with those of Alvarado\nin the beleaguered citadel. It seems to have been the purpose of the\nchiefs to permit a free ingress of the entire force of the enemy,\npreferring rather to shut them up to famine there, than to meet them in\nthe open field.\n\nNo sooner was the General, with his augmented army, enclosed within the\nwalls of the fortress, than active and fearful demonstrations of the\nroused and unappeasable spirit of the people began to be made. The\nstreets and lanes of the city, which were silent and deserted as he\npassed through them to his quarters, began to swarm with innumerable\nmultitudes of warriors, as if the stones, and the very dust of the\nearth, were suddenly transformed into armed men. The flat roofs of\ntheir temples and dwellings were covered on every side with fierce wild\nfigures, frantic with rage, who taunted the Spaniards with their cruel\ntreachery, and threatened them, in the most violent language, with a\nterrible revenge. \"You are now again in our power,\" they cried, \"and you\ncannot escape. Shut up in your narrow quarters, you are doomed to the\nlingering tortures of famine, and wo to the traitorous Aztec, that\nfurnishes a morsel to relieve your hunger. When, at length, the\nfaintness of death overtakes you, and you can no longer offer resistance\nto our arms, we will again spread the tables in your prison-house, and\nfatten you for the sacrifice.\"\n\nNo longer restrained by their reverence for Montezuma, whose\npusillanimity had been the cause of all his and their troubles, they\nrecommenced their active operations, and stormed the defences with an\nenergy and perseverance that was truly appalling. Day after day they\ndeluged the place with arrows and missiles of every kind, which fell in\npitiless showers upon the heads of the besieged, till scarcely one was\nleft without some wound or bruise. In vain did they apply, as before, to\ntheir royal prisoner, to appease the rage of his subjects, and induce\nthem once more to send them the customary supplies. In moody silence he\nshut himself up in his room, brooding over the ingratitude and treachery\nof Cortez, and the injuries and insults he had received at his hand.\n\nExasperated by this sudden reversal of his schemes of conquest, and\nmaddened by the sense of hunger which began to be severely felt in his\ncamp, Cortez resolved to strike terror into the ranks of the besiegers,\nby a vigorous sortie at the head of all his cavalry. First sweeping the\navenue by a well directed fire from his heavy guns, which were planted\nat the main entrance of the fortress, he rushed out, with all his steel\nclad cavaliers, trampling the unprotected assailants under the iron\nhoofs of the horses, and dealing death on every side. The mighty mass\ngave way before the terrific charge of the advancing column, but\nimmediately closed in upon its rear as it passed, till it was completely\nswallowed up in an interminable sea of fierce and angry foes, whose\naccumulating waves swept in from every avenue, and threatened to sweep\nthem all away, in despite of the fury and power of their dreaded\nchargers. Convinced of his danger, the intrepid Castilian wheeled his\nhorse about, and with a furious shout, called on his brave band to break\na way through the serried ranks of the enemy. Plunging, rearing and\nleaping, under the double spur of the rider, and the piercing shafts of\nhis foe, the fiery animals broke in upon the living wall that impeded\ntheir way, and rushed fiercely on, trampling down hundreds in their\npath, till they regained the open avenue, that was defended by their own\nartillery. It was not without serious loss, however, that this retreat\nwas achieved. The fierce Aztecs threw themselves upon the horses, in the\ncrowd, hanging upon their legs, sometimes inflicting serious wounds upon\nthem, and sometimes grappling with their riders, dragging them from\ntheir saddles, and carrying off to captivity or sacrifice. At the same\ntime, they were sorely beset by showers of stones and darts that poured\nupon their heads from every building as they passed, battering and\nbreaking their armor, and terribly bruising both the horse and his\nrider.\n\nThese sorties were several times repeated, but always with the same\ndoubtful success. The loss of the Spaniards was always much less than\nthat of their enemy. But the latter could better afford to lose a\nthousand, than the former to lose one. Their ranks were instantly\nreplenished with fresh combatants, who crowded in upon the scene of\nconflict, like the countless thousands of the over-peopled North, that\nswarmed upon the fair fields of Italy, as if some used-up world had been\nsuddenly emptied of its inhabitants. Their numbers seemed rather to\nincrease than to diminish with every new onset. In the same proportion\ntheir fierce resolution increased.\n\nThe haughty Spaniard was now convinced that he had wholly mistaken the\ncharacter of the people, whom he had thought to trample down at his\npleasure. A spirit was raised which could not be laid, either by\npersuasion or by force. He saw and felt his danger, without the power to\navert it. At length, either by threats or entreaties, or both, he\nprevailed on the captive Montezuma once more to interpose in his behalf,\nby employing what authority remained to him against his own best friends\nand faithful subjects.\n\nThe Aztecs, forsaken of their monarch, had bold and talented leaders,\nwho were competent both to devise and to execute the measures deemed\nnecessary for the public good, and to lead on their marshalled hosts, to\nbattle and to victory. Cacama, the young Prince of Tezcuco, burning to\nretrieve his fatal error in counselling and aiding the friendly\nreception of the Spaniards, now joined all his resources with those of\nCuitlahua and Guatimozin, in endeavoring to recover the ground they had\nlost. Their first object was, to rescue the Emperor from his inglorious\nimprisonment, never doubting that, with his sacred person at their head,\nthey would be able to annihilate the treacherous intruders at a blow.\n\nNot far from the city of Tezcuco, and standing out on the bosom of the\nlake, several hundred yards from the shore, was a solitary castle of a\nheavy and sombre architecture, built upon piles, at such an elevation as\nto be above the influence of any extraordinary swell in the waters of\nthe lake. Consequently, when at its ordinary level, boats could pass\nfreely under. At this place the princes were accustomed to meet for\nprivate deliberation.\n\nCortez was informed of these meetings, and knew too well the effect of\nthe counsels there matured, not to wish them broken up. With a boldness\nof design peculiar to himself, he resolved to make Montezuma the\ninstrument of their destruction. He represented to that monarch the\ndanger to his own interests, of allowing such a junto of able and\nambitious men to assume the guidance of the public affairs, and\nundertake to direct the movements of the people. \"What can they do\nmore,\" he craftily exclaimed, \"but assume the reins of government, under\nthe specious pretence, which they now falsely set up, that their king is\ndeprived of his freedom to act, and therefore no longer a king. If, now,\nyou would save your sceptre and your crown, assert at once your imperial\nprerogative--show them you have still the power to speak and to\nact--command them, on pain of your royal displeasure, to lay down their\narms, desist from their treasonable assemblages, and repair at once to\nyour court, to answer for their unloyal designs.\"\n\nMisled by false representations of the facts, and deceived by the\nspecious arguments of the Spaniard, Montezuma despatched a message to\nthe lord of Tezcuco, under the great seal of the empire, which it was\nhigh treason to disregard, commanding him instantly to appear before his\nmaster, to answer for his irregular and ill-advised proceedings. Cacama\nwas too well aware of the real position of Montezuma, and of the\nconstraint under which he acted, to give any heed to his mandate.\n\n\"Tell my royal master,\" he replied, \"that I am too much his friend to\nobey him in this instance. Let him banish the false-hearted Spaniards\nfrom his capital, the vipers whom he has taken to his bosom--let him\nascend once more his imperial throne, not as a vassal, but as the\nrightful lord of all these realms, and Cacama will joyfully lay his\ncrown, his life, his all, at his feet. Montezuma is my master when he is\nmaster of himself. To that dignity we intend to restore him, or perish\nin the attempt.\"\n\nOn the evening of the fourth day after the return of the royal\nmessenger, with this spirited reply of Cacama, a light pirogue, guided\nby a single hand, its sole occupant, might have been seen gliding\nsilently over the Lake to the water-palace, the chosen rendezvous of the\npatriot princes. By the proud and majestic bearing of the boatman, it\ncould be no other than Guatimozin. Securing his skiff by a cord passed\nthrough the fingers of a gigantic hand, curiously carved from the\njutting rafters on which the floor of the palace was laid, he ascended\nthe steps to the hall, which he found unoccupied and still. He was\npresently joined by Cuitlahua and Cacama, arriving from different\ndirections, in the same stealthy manner. Their number was soon increased\nby the arrival of four Tezcucan lords, from whom some important\ncommunications were expected. Scarcely had they entered the hall, and\nseated themselves, when, a slight noise from without attracting his\nattention, Guatimozin rose, and went towards the door, to ascertain the\ncause.\n\n\"It is only the chafing of our pirogues against the piles,\" said one of\nthe new comers--\"let us proceed to business.\"\n\nGuatimozin, true to his own impulses, heeded not the remark. Stepping\nupon the outer battlement, he discerned a slight figure in a canoe,\nmoving in the shadow of the building, and apparently seeking\nconcealment. Supposing it might be a servant, left by the Tezcucans in\ncharge of their boats, he was about returning, when a gentle voice\nwhispered his name.\n\n\"Who calls Guatimozin?\" he replied in a whisper, at the same time\nleaning towards the intruder.\n\n\"Beware of the Tezcucans, beware.\" The voice was Karee's, but the skiff\nshot away, like an arrow, before the Prince had time for further parley.\n\nReturning to the council, he instantly demanded, as if nothing had\nhappened, that the plans of the evening should be laid open.\n\nA pictured scroll was then produced by the Tezcucans, representing the\ncontemplated movements of the enemy, which they professed to have\nascertained from authentic sources, and delineating a plan of operations\nagainst them. Guatimozin, somewhat bewildered by the warning he had\nreceived, sat down with his friends to the examination of this scroll.\nBut, while seemingly intent upon that alone, he contrived to keep a\nclose watch upon the movements of the Tezcucans. It was soon evident\nthat their thoughts were not wholly engrossed by the business before\nthem. A slight noise from without, followed instantly by an exchange of\nsignificant looks between two of the party, confirmed his suspicions.\nInstantly dashing away the false scroll, and springing to his feet, he\nboldly charged the traitors with a conspiracy; and demanded an immediate\nexplanation. Alarmed at this mysterious and premature disclosure of\ntheir designs, the chief of the party, without venturing a word of\nreply, gave a shrill, piercing whistle, which was immediately responded\nto from without. Finding himself entrapped, and not knowing what numbers\nhe might have to contend with, Guatimozin sprang to the door, stretching\none of the conspirators on the floor as he passed, and succeeded in\nreaching his skiff, just as a band of armed men rushed in from the other\nquarter. Cuitlahua also effected his escape, though not without a\ndesperate encounter with one of the advancing party, who attempted to\narrest his flight.\n\nTo seize his antagonist with a powerful embrace, to fling him over the\nparapet into the water, and to plunge in after him, was the work of an\ninstant. Swimming under water for some distance, and rising to the\nsurface within the shadow of the building, he took possession of the\nnearest canoe, and, following in the wake of Guatimozin, was soon out\nof the reach of danger, or pursuit.\n\nCacama, unsuspicious of danger, and intent only on the object of their\nmeeting, was so engrossed with the scroll, and the plans delineated upon\nit, that he did not fully comprehend the meaning of this sudden\ninterruption of their council, until his two friends had disappeared,\nand, in their place, a band of twenty armed men stood before him.\nResistance was vain. By order of the chief of the conspirators, he was\nseized, securely bound, and carried a prisoner to Tenochtitlan. There,\nthough treated with indignity by Cortez, and with severity by Montezuma,\nhe maintained a haughty and independent bearing, sternly refusing to\nyield, in the slightest degree, to the insolent dictation of the one, or\nthe pusillanimous policy of the other. Cuitlahua was afterwards seized\nin his own palace of Iztapalapan; but, after a short detention, was\nreleased again, at the instigation of Montezuma.\n\nThese outrages, so far from intimidating the people, only excited and\nincensed them the more, and led to other and more desperate assaults\nupon the beleaguered foe, till Cortez, apprehensive of ultimate defeat\nand ruin, applied once more to Montezuma, proposing that he should\nappear in person before his people, and require them to lay down their\narms, retire to their homes, and leave his guests in peaceable\npossession of the quarters he had voluntarily assigned them.\n\nArrayed in his royal robes, with the imperial diadem upon his head,\npreceded by his officers of state, bearing the golden wands, the emblem\nof despotic power, and accompanied by a considerable train of his own\nnobles, and some of the principal Castilian cavaliers, the unfortunate\nmonarch appeared on the battlements, to remonstrate with his own people\nfor their zeal in the defence of his crown and honor, and appease the\nrage of his subjects for insults offered to his own person, and to those\nof his loyal nobles. His presence was instantly recognized by the\nthronging multitudes below and around. Some prostrated themselves on the\nearth in profound reverence, some bent the knee, and all waited in\nbreathless silence to hear that voice, which had so long ruled them with\ndespotic sway.\n\nWith a sad, but at the same time a calm and dignified tone, the monarch\naddressed them, \"My children,\" said he, \"why are you here in this fierce\narray. The strangers are my friends. I abide with them as their\nvoluntary guest, and all that you do against them is done against me,\nyour sovereign and father.\"\n\nWhen the monarch declared himself the friend of the detested Spaniard, a\nmurmur of discontent and rage arose, and ran through the assembled host.\nTheir ungovernable fury burst at once the barrier of loyalty, and vented\nitself in curses upon the king who could, in the hour of their peril,\nthus basely forsake his people, and endeavor to betray them into the\nhands of a treacherous and blood thirsty foe. \"Base Aztec!\" they cried,\n\"woman! coward! go back to the viper friends whom you have taken to your\nbosom. No longer worthy to reign over us, we cast away our allegiance\nfor ever.\" At the same moment, some powerful arm, more fearless than the\nrest, aimed a huge stone at the unprotected head of the king, which\nbrought him senseless to the ground. His attendants, put off their\nguard by the previous calm and reverential attention of the crowd, were\ntaken by surprise. In vain they interposed their shields and bucklers,\nto protect his person from further violence. The fatal blow was struck.\nThe great Montezuma had received his death-wound from the hand of one of\nhis own subjects, who, but a moment before, would have sacrificed a\nhundred lives, had he possessed them, to shield the person of his\nmonarch from violence and dishonor.\n\nThe effect of this unexpected catastrophe seemed equally appalling to\nboth the belligerent parties. The Aztecs, struck aghast at their own\nsacrilegious deed, dispersed in sorrow and shame to their homes; while\nthe Spaniards felt that they had lost their only remaining hold upon the\nforbearance and regard of a mighty people, whose confidence they had\nshamefully abused, and whose altars and houses they had wantonly\ndesecrated. It was a season of agonizing suspense. To retreat from their\npost, and abandon the conquest which they once imagined was nearly\nachieved, might be as disastrous as it would be humiliating. To remain\nin their narrow quarters, surrounded with countless thousands of\nexasperated foes, on whom they must be dependent for their daily\nsupplies of food, seemed little better than madness. To the proud spirit\nof the haughty Castilian, the alternative was scarcely less to be\ndreaded than martyrdom. It was manifestly, however, the only resource,\nand he resolved to evacuate the city.\n\nMeanwhile, active hostilities had been temporarily suspended. The\nunhappy Montezuma, smitten even more severely in heart than in person,\nrefused alike the condolence of his friends and the skill of the\nCastilian surgeon. Tearing off the bandages from his wounds, \"leave me\nalone,\" he cried, \"I have already outlived my honor and the affection\nand confidence of my people. Why should I look again upon the sun or the\nearth. The one has no light, the other no flowers for me. Let me die\nhere. I feel indeed that the gods have smitten me, when I fall by the\nhand of one of my own people.\"\n\nIn this disconsolate mood, the spirit of Montezuma took its flight. In\nvain did the Castilian general endeavor to suppress, for a time, the\ntidings of his death. The loud wailing of his attendants, would have\npublished it far and wide among the thousands of affectionate hearts,\nthat listened for every sound that issued from the palace, if they had\nnot, unknown to the Spaniards, established a kind of telegraphic signal,\nby means of which they communicated to the priests on the great\nTeocalli, daily reports of the progress of his disease. When the sad\nsignal was given, announcing the solemn fact, that the great Montezuma\nhad laid down his honors and his troubles together, it was responded to\nby the mournful tones of the great drum of the temple, by ten measured\nmuffled strokes, conveying the melancholy intelligence to every dwelling\nin Tenochtitlan.\n\nThe breathing of that populous city was now one universal wail, that\nseemed to penetrate the very heavens. Partly from a sincere regard for\nthe fallen monarch, and partly from the hope that he might thus\nconciliate the good will of his afflicted subjects, Cortez directed his\nremains to be placed in a splendid coffin, and borne in solemn\nprocession, by his own nobles, to his palace, that it might be interred\nwith the customary regal honors. It was received by his people with\nevery demonstration of affectionate joy and respect. Conveyed with great\npomp to the castle of Chapoltepec, followed by an immense train of\npriests, nobles, and common people, it was interred amid all the\nimposing ceremonies of the Aztec religion. His wives and children,\nfrantic with grief, gathered around those hallowed remains, and\ntestified, by all those tender and delicate tokens which seem the\nnatural expression of a refined feminine sorrow, their profound sense of\nthe inestimable loss they had sustained.\n\nBy one of those singular coincidences, which tend so strongly to confirm\nthe too easy credulity of the superstitious, and give an unnatural\nemphasis to the common accidents of life, it was the festival of the new\nmoon, the very day on which Montezuma had promised Tecuichpo that he\nwould join the household circle at Chapoltepec, that his lifeless\nremains were borne thither, in the solemn funereal procession.\n\n\"Alas! my father,\" she cried, \"is this the fulfilment of that only\npromise which sustained my sinking courage in the hour of separation?\"\nShe said no more. The more profound the sorrow, the fewer words it has\nto spare. \"The shallow murmur, but the deep are dumb.\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VIII.\n\n  BRIEF REIGN OF CUITLAHUA--EXPULSION OF THE\n    SPANIARDS--GUATIMOZIN CHOSEN EMPEROR--HIS MARRIAGE\n    WITH TECUICUPO.\n\n   ~Grief follows grief. The crowned head\n    So late the nation's hope, is laid\n    Low in the dust.~\n\n           *       *       *       *       *\n\n           ~Defeat and triumph, tears and smiles,\n    Life, death, true glory and the depths of shame,\n    The funeral pall and the pure bridal robe,\n    In close proximity--~\n\n\nThe sacred dust restored to its native earth, and the last hallowed\nrites performed over the sepulchre of the departed, the thoughts of the\npeople were immediately turned to the succession. All eyes were fixed on\nCuitlahua, the noble brother of Montezuma, whose intrepid spirit, and\ndeadly hatred of the intruding Spaniards, accorded with the now\nuniversal sentiment of the nation. He was elected, without a dissenting\nvoice, by the grand council of the nobles. Accepting, with alacrity, the\npost of responsibility and danger, he was immediately inaugurated and\ncrowned, with all the gorgeous rites, and imposing ceremonies which a\npagan priesthood delight to throw around every important event, in which\ntheir holy influence is necessarily involved.\n\nDuring the progress of these mournful and exciting events, the rigors of\nthe siege had not been materially relaxed, though all active hostilities\nhad been suspended. They were now to be renewed with tenfold energy,\nunder the lead of their warlike monarch, who had often led the armies of\nAnahuac to victory, and who had never known defeat.\n\nWhen the Castilian general was informed that the heroic Cuitlahua had\nbeen placed on the throne of Montezuma, and was about to take the field\nin person, he perceived the necessity of adopting prompt and decided\nmeasures. The retreat had already been resolved on. It was now to be put\nin execution, and that, without delay. As it was the custom of the\nAztec, to suspend all hostilities during the night, Cortez determined to\navail himself of that season to make his escape. Accordingly, every\nthing being made ready for the departure, and the city being hushed in a\nseemingly profound repose, the gates were thrown open, and the little\narmy, with its long train of Indian allies, sallied stealthily forth,\nnot to the stirring notes of drum or trumpet, but with hushed breath and\na cautious tread, ill accordant with the haughty bearing, and vaunting\nair, with which they had hitherto attempted to lord it over the proud\nmetropolis of Anahuac.\n\nBut, though quiet, the sagacious and determined Aztec was wide awake. He\nhad anticipated this stealthy movement of his pent up foe, and resolved\nthat he should not thus escape the snare into which his own audacious\ninsolence had drawn him. The last files of the retreating army had not\nyet passed out from their entrenchments, when a long loud blast from the\nhorn of the great Teocalli, stirred the city to its utmost borders,\ncalling out the mighty host, who had slept upon their arms, eager for\nthe summons which should bring them once more to an engagement with\ntheir foe.\n\nConfident as the Spaniard was in the overwhelming power of his cavalry\nand artillery, he preferred rather to make good his retreat, while he\ncould, than to show his prowess in these perilous circumstances. The\nhoarse distant murmurs which fell upon their ears at every street as\nthey passed, indicated too plainly the mustering of a mighty host, which\nsoon came rushing in upon them from all quarters, like the swelling\nsurges of a stormy sea, each higher and more terrible than that which\npreceded. They fell upon the flying foe with the ferocity of tigers,\nabout to be disappointed of their prey. From every lane and alley, and\nfrom the roof of every house, they pelted them with ceaseless vollies of\nstones. They grappled with them, man to man, reckless of life or limb,\nso that they could maim or destroy an enemy.\n\nAlvarado, with a portion of the cavalry, brought up the rear of the\nretreating army, in order to repel, with an occasional charge upon the\nenemy's ranks, those furious onsets which might have overwhelmed the\nsmall body of Spanish infantry, or the unmailed and lightly armed\nTlascalan allies. The cavalier and his horse, encased in armor of proof,\ncould better cope with the weapons and missiles of their assailants,\nwhile they often turned upon them, with a fierce and irresistible\ncharge, trampling hundreds in the dust, and mowing down whole ranks on\nthis side and that, with their trenchant broadswords.\n\nIn this manner the fugitives defiled through the great southern avenue,\nand came out upon the grand causeway, by which they had twice entered\nthe city. Here they were met by new and fresh squadrons of the enemy,\nthronging the sides of the dike in their light canoes, and showering\ndown arrows thick as hail upon the advancing column. Sometimes keeping\nupon the causeway, they would grapple each with his man, and drag him\noff into the water, to be picked up by those in the canoes, and hurried\noff to a terrible and certain fate, on the great altar of their War-god.\nTheir numbers increased every moment, till the lake was literally alive\nwith them.\n\nAt length the advancing column was brought to stand; while a cry of\ndespair from the van revealed the fearful position in which they stood\nin the midst of their implacable foes. The bridges which intersected the\ndike had been removed by order of the Emperor. They had now reached the\nfirst opening thus made in the causeway. A sudden shout from the myriads\nof Aztec warriors that hung about them on all sides, told at once their\nown wild triumph, and the awfully perilous position of their enemy.\nCrowded together on a narrow causeway, in ranks so close as to render\ntheir arms and their weapons almost entirely useless--arrested in front\nby a wide chasm which it was impossible to pass--their retreat cut off\nin the rear, by the living masses that blocked up every avenue, and\npressed them forward upon the crowded ranks of their comrades--assailed\non both sides from the water, through the whole length of the closely\ncompacted column--while all these dangers were enhanced a hundred-fold\nby the darkness of the night--there seemed no possibility of escape for\none of that brave host.\n\nCortez was with the principal part of the cavalry in the centre of the\ncolumn, so wedged in by the compacted mass of his own forces, as to be\nquite unable either to advance or retreat, without trampling them under\nhis feet, or crowding them off the causeway. He comprehended in a moment\nthe perilous position he was in. But such was the utter confusion and\ndismay of the whole army, and such the horrid din of clashing arms, and\nthe yet more horrid yells of the savage foe, that he in vain attempted\neither to direct or encourage his men. His voice was drowned in the\nuproar.\n\nSandoval, one of his bravest and most trusty officers, who led the van,\nwith a few other cavaliers as bold as himself, resolved to push forward\nat any personal hazard, rather than stand still to perish in one\nconfused mass, dashed their steeds into the water, and made for the\nother side of the gap. Some succeeded in effecting a landing, while\nothers, with their horses, perished in the attempt, or fell into the\nhands of the watchful boatmen. The first movement being thus made, an\nimpetus was given to the moving column from behind, that drove the front\nranks, _nolens volens_, into the breach. By far the greater part sank to\nrise no more, or were picked up by the Aztecs, and hurried away to a far\nmore terrible death. At length the breach was filled up by the bodies of\nthe dead, and the baggage and artillery which occupied the centre, so\nthat the rear had a clear passage over the fatal chasm.\n\nA second and a third breach was yet to be passed. It was accomplished as\nbefore, only by making a bridge of the bodies of one half, for the other\nhalf to walk upon. Meanwhile the enemy hung upon flank and rear, with\nunappeasable rage, striking down and picking up vast numbers of victims,\nuntil, when the last breach was cleared, and a footing gained upon\nterra-firma, there was scarce a remnant left of the gallant band that\nentered upon that fatal causeway. The iron-hearted Cortez was so\novercome with the sight of his shattered band, and the absence of so\nmany brave comrades, when the morning light appeared, that he sat down\nupon a rock that overlooked the scene of desolation, and gave vent to\nhis emotions in a flood of tears.\n\nHad the Mexicans followed up this success by falling upon the broken\ndispirited remnant of the Castilian army, they would probably have\nvanquished and destroyed them to a man. They were suffered, however, to\nproceed unmolested for several days, until their strength and spirits\nwere somewhat recruited. Then, though attacked by immensely superior\nnumbers, they succeeded in putting them to rout.\n\nThe new Emperor, Cuitlahua, having signalized his accession to the\nthrone by the almost total destruction of the formidable foe, who had\nspread the terror of his arms far and wide through all the realms of\nAnahuac, proceeded to fortify his capital and kingdom against another\ninvasion. The dikes and canals were thoroughly repaired, the walls were\nstrengthened and extended, the army enlarged and improved in discipline\nby some of the lessons which so able a general, was not slow to learn\nfrom the Spaniards. The immense treasures they had drawn from the\nmunificent Montezuma, and which, in the disasters of that melancholy\nnight, they had been compelled to leave behind, were all recovered and\nexpended in these works of defence. Their arms, too, were gathered up,\nand served to improve and render more effective many of the more\nprimitive weapons of the Aztecs. In the midst of these wise and\npatriotic efforts to guard against the probable return of the Spaniards,\nCuitlahua was seized with a loathsome disease, which in a few days\nbrought him to the grave, after a brief reign of four months.\n\nThis was a terrible blow to the nation. It was felt throughout all the\nborders of Anahuac, as the severest frown of their gods. But partially\nrecovered from the shock occasioned by the death of Montezuma, they were\nnow beginning to feel their hopes renewed, and their courage reviving,\nunder the bold and decided measures, and the signal successes of their\nnew Emperor. He was the idol of the army. His intrepid bravery, his high\nmilitary talents, his unyielding patriotism, and deadly hatred of the\nwhite men, had secured for him the confidence of all the wisest and best\nmen of the realm, so that, with one heart and one voice, they rallied\naround his standard, assured that, under his energetic sway, the ancient\nglory and pre-eminence of the Aztec crown would be not only ably\nasserted, but effectually re-established.\n\nHis fall, like a mighty earthquake, shook the empire to its centre. For\na moment it seemed as if all was lost--hopelessly, irretrievably lost.\nThe long funereal wail, that swelled up from every dwelling and every\nheart in that devoted land, seemed like the expiring groan of a world.\nBut it was only for a moment. The first shock past, they found\nthemselves still standing, though among ruins. Their land, their\ntemples, their dwellings, still remained. Their wise and experienced\ncounsellors were all in their midst. Their host of armed men were still\nat their post, unbroken, undivided, unappalled. The imperial mantle had\nnot fallen to the earth.\n\nAs by immediate direction from heaven, all eyes were turned to\nGuatimozin. He was nephew to the last two monarchs, and though only a\nyoung man, had distinguished himself both in the council and in the\nfield. He had uniformly opposed the admission of the Spaniards to the\ncapital. He had been prominent in all the recent attacks upon their\nquarters, and had especially signalized himself in the terrible\noverthrow of the disastrous night of their retreat. He had all the\ncoolness and intrepidity of a veteran warrior, with all the fire and\nimpetuosity of youth. He was about twenty-five years of age, of an\nelegant commanding figure, and so terrible in war that even his\nfollowers trembled in his presence.\n\nThe young prince felt the extreme difficulty of the crisis, but did not\nshrink from the arduous and perilous post assigned him. With a prudence\nand circumspection, only to have been expected from one long accustomed\nto the cares and perplexities of government, he set himself to fortify\nevery assailable point, and to prepare for the worst that might arise,\nin the event of another invasion. The works commenced during the brief\nreign of Cuitlahua were carried forward to their completion. By means of\nregular couriers and spies, a constant communication was kept up with\nall parts of the country. The movements of the Spaniards were narrowly\nwatched, and their supposed designs frequently reported to the Emperor.\nNothing was omitted which a sagacious and watchful monarch could do or\ndevise, to make ready for a severe and protracted contest, in whatever\nform it might come.\n\nThus established on the throne, and strengthened against a sudden\nsurprise, the ardent young monarch repaired to Chapoltepec, where the\nbereaved household of Montezuma still remained, in sad but peaceful\nseclusion, and claimed the hand of the fair Princess Tecuichpo. Her\nretiring disposition would have preferred a humbler and more quiet\nstation. She had seen enough of the agitations and burdens of a crowned\nhead; enough of the gaudy emptiness of life in a palace, and longed to\nhide herself in some sweet, sequestered spot, away from the noisy parade\nand anxious bustle of a court, where her own home would be all her\nworld.\n\n\"Oh! that that crown had fallen on some other head,\" she exclaimed.\n\"Though there is not another in Anahuac so worthy to wear it, not one\nwho would so well sustain its ancient glory, yet I would not that _you_\nshould bear the heavy burden, or be exposed to that desolating storm\nthat is gathering over our devoted capital and throne.\"\n\n\"Said I not, my beloved, that I would yet lead you back in triumph to\nthe royal halls of your ancestors? I have come to redeem my pledge.\nShrink not from a station which no other can so well adorn. Rather, far\nrather would I, if I could, retire with you to the quiet shades of\nprivate life, and find a home in some sweet glen among the mountains,\nthan wear the crown and claim the homage of a world. But, my sweet\ncousin, the crown _must_ be defended, the throne _must_ be sustained\nagainst the insolent pretensions of these strangers. And _I_ must do my\npart in the defence. I dare not, either as monarch or as subject,\nwithhold myself from this great work. If I perish, I fall in the service\nof my country and her altars. And the higher the station I hold, the\ngreater the service I render--the heavier the burden I bear, the\nbrighter the honors I shall win. As well perish on the throne, as\nfighting at its foot. I should be unworthy of the daughter of Montezuma,\nif I held any thing too dear to sacrifice on the shrine of my country.\"\n\n\"Noble Guatimozin, my heart is yours--my life is devoted only to you.\nLead me where you will, so that I can share your burdens, and lighten\nyour cares, and not prove unworthy of such a father and such a lord. But\nyou forget that mine is a doomed life, that oracles and omens, signs and\npresages, have all conspired against me from my birth.\"\n\n\"Nay, my love, it is you that forget, not I. For the very oracles and\nomens that foreshadowed for you a clouded morning, promised with equal\ndistinctness a bright and glorious evening. The tempestuous morning is\npassed. The glorious mid-day and the golden evening are yet to come.\"\n\n\"You are quite too fast, I fear, my brave cousin, it was only the\nevening that was to have light. The sunset hour of life was to be\nclear. But what, my dear Guatimozin, what do you suppose that light is\nto be? and whence shall it come?\"\n\n\"What _can_ it be, but to restore, in your own person and family, the\ndisputed pre-eminence of the Aztec dynasty, the tarnished glory of its\ncrown. Rely upon it, my gentle cousin, _that_ is your destiny. The timid\ndove of Chapoltepec shall be transformed to the royal eagle of\nTenochtitlan.\"\n\n\"That cannot be. I rather fear that the deep cloud of my doom will\novershadow and darken your life. Better far that I should suffer and\nperish alone.\"\n\n\"It _must_ be, Tecuichpo, it shall be. Have not the gods given you to\nme? Have they not made me the defender of the Aztec throne? How then can\nyou doubt that they call _you_ to share and adorn it?\"\n\n\"Oh! my lord! those terrible omens--they are but half fulfilled, and the\npromised light is yet far in the distance. Could I be sure that you\nwould share that light with me----.\"\n\n\"Come then with me to the palace. It will be all light for _me_ when\n_you_ are there, and sure I am that time will re-interpret those sad\nomens for you, and turn them all to sunshine.\"\n\nSuddenly the palace of Chapoltepec was changed from a house of mourning\nto a house of feasting. The nuptial rites of the youthful Emperor with\nthe beautiful princess, were celebrated with great pomp. The festivities\ncontinued through several days, and were honored by the presence of all\nthe nobility of the empire. The most costly entertainment was provided\nfor the numerous guests. The most munificent royal largesses were\nbestowed upon the priests, and upon those who took a prominent part in\nthe grand ceremonies, and gifts of great value lavishly distributed\namong all the inferior attendants. The brilliant and odoriferous\ntreasures of the royal gardens, and of the chinampas of the great lake\nwere exhausted in adorning the halls and chambers of the palace. The\nrefined taste, and exquisite invention of Karee was every where\napparent. The place, on the day of the nuptials, might have been taken\nfor the realm and palace of Flora. The very air was redolent of the\nincense of flowers, which brightened the day with their bloom, and of\nthe odoriferous gums, whose blaze extended the reign of day far into the\nrealms of night.\n\nIt was a national festival, a season of universal rejoicing. The people\nnow believed that their days of darkness and temporary depression were\npassed, and that all the power and glory of the days of Montezuma would\nbe restored, under those happy auspices which made his favorite daughter\na sharer of his throne. The priests sanctioned and confirmed this\nbelief, to the utmost of their power and influence, giving it out, with\nthat oracular force and dignity, which they so well knew how to assume,\nthat such was the true interpretation of all the singular predictions\nand presages, which intimated that the life of the princess would close\nwith unusual splendor. In this manner, they encouraged the hopes of the\nnation, confirmed its allegiance to its new Emperor, and united all its\nforces in a solid phalanx of resistance to every foreign encroachment.\n\nWhen these ceremonies were concluded, and the imperial pageant passed\nfrom Chapoltepec to the capital, there was a new and still more\nimposing display of the reverence and loyalty of this singular people,\nand of the more than oriental magnificence with which they sustained the\nsplendors of royalty. The road, through the entire distance, was swept,\nsprinkled, and strewed with flowers. The elite of the army, and the\nnobility in the gayest costumes, formed a brilliant and numerous escort,\naccompanied with flaunting banners, and every species of spirit-stirring\nmusic then known to Aztecs. The imperial cortege, consisting of a long\narray of magnificent palanquins, with their gorgeous canopies of\nfeather-work, all a-blaze with gold and jewels, borne on the shoulders\nof princes and nobles, occupied the centre of the grand procession.\nThose of the Emperor and Empress, which moved side by side, were\ndistinguished by the exceeding costliness and beauty of their\ndecorations, and by the superior height of their canopies, whose sides\nand ends curved gracefully to a point in the centre, about three feet\nabove the cornice, which was surmounted by the imperial diadem of\nMexico. These were followed by the queen mother, and other members of\nthe royal household, conveyed in a style but little inferior to the\nfirst. This cortege was immediately preceded and followed by all the\npriests and prophets of the nation, in their splendid pontificals, and\nbearing the showy insignia of their various orders. An immense train of\nthe most respectable citizens, merchants, mechanics, artizans,\nhusbandmen, and men of every honorable profession brought up the rear.\nThey were scarcely less gay and brilliant in their costume than the\nescort and immediate attendants of the monarch, though somewhat less\nuniform in the style of their decorations. The road, through its entire\nlength, was flanked by women and children, young men and maidens, in\ntheir gala dresses, with baskets and chaplets of flowers, which they\ncontinually showered upon the path, in front of the royal palanquins,\nthus renewing, at every step of its progress, the floral carpet, whose\nfreshness and beauty the long escort had trampled out. Ever and anon a\nshout would go up from that vast multitude, so loud and long, that its\nechoes, reverberated along the mountain walls that shut in that\nbeautiful valley from the great world, would be heard for many a league\naround. Then, from some little group of trained chanters, a song of\nright loyal welcome would burst forth, accompanied with showers of\nroses, and followed by a chorus from thousands of sweet voices--\n\n    Welcome! welcome! warrior, king--\n    Thrice welcome with the prize you bring.\n    Star of Montezuma's line,\n    O'er the empire, rise and shine!\n    Flower of Montezuma's race\n    Return, thy father's halls to grace!\n    Welcome, thrice welcome, mighty one!\n    The nation's heart shall be thy throne.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IX.\n\n  FESTIVITIES AT THE COURT OF GUATIMOZIN--THE NEW HYMENEAL\n    VOW.\n\n     ~Heaven gave to Adam one, and so proclaimed\n    Her full equality to man. He who\n    Can ask for more, knows not the worth of one,\n    And so deserves not any--~\n\n\nThe imperial court of Tenochtitlan was now again the radiant centre of\nattraction to the confederated and tributary nations of Anahuac. The\nterror of Guatimozin's arm was even more dreaded than that of Montezuma.\nHe was a mighty man of valor, of that impetuous courage, and that bold\ndirectness of action, which executes at a blow the purposes and plans,\nwhich, with common minds, would require time and deliberation. He was at\nthe same time of a generous magnanimous disposition, open, frank,\nunsuspecting, and won the affectionate regard, as well as the prompt\nunquestioning obedience of his people. He had too much good sense, and\ntoo wise a regard to the dignity of those who should attend upon the\nperson of majesty, to require of his nobles, the officers of his court\nand household, those humiliating attentions which were exacted by\nMontezuma. He saw that the only effect of such exactions was to weaken\nand effeminate the character of some of his greatest chieftains,\nreducing them from proud and powerful friends to fawning cringing\nslaves. They were no longer shrouded in the sombre _nequen_, as they\nentered the royal presence, nor did they go barefoot, with their eyes\ncast down to the earth, when they bore the monarch in his luxurious\npalanquin. Arrayed in all their costly finery, with golden or silver\nsandals, and with a bold, manly, cheerful bearing, as if they gloried in\nthe precious treasure which it was their privilege, more than their\nduty, to protect and to care for, the imperial palanquin seemed rather\ntheir trophy than their burden, which they were far more ready to bear,\nthan their master was to occupy. He was too active and stirring a\nspirit, to submit often to such a luxurious conveyance. He was ever in\nthe midst of his chiefs, consulting and acting for the public good. He\nfreely discussed with them the great measures of defence, which he put\nin progress, and evinced the remarkable and rare good sense, to adopt\nwise and politic suggestions, however humble the source from which they\nemanated, and to change his opinion at once when it was shown to be\nwrong. He superintended, in person, the repairing and enlarging of the\nfortifications, and the improvement of the tactics and discipline of the\narmy. By a frugal expenditure of the vast revenues of the crown, and a\ncareful preservation of the treasures left by his predecessors, he\naccumulated an amount more than equal to the exigencies of a long and\nwasting struggle with all the combined foes of the realm.\n\nMeanwhile, the gay saloons of the palace of Montezuma were gayer than\nthey had ever been. For a brief season, the clouds that had so long hung\nover the fate of the lovely Tecuichpo seemed to be dissipated. The skies\nwere all bright above her, and every thing around her wore a cheerful\nand promising aspect. Attracted by her resplendent beauty, the\nunaffected ease and graciousness of her manners, and the queenly\nmagnificence of her court, the youth, beauty, wit, talent and chivalry\nof the nation, gathered about her, and made her life a perpetual\ngala-day, rivalling in brilliancy and effect the best days of the gayest\ncourts in Europe.\n\nConspicuous among the gay multitude that flitted about the court, was\nNahuitla, Prince of Tlacopan, a young chief of the Tepanecs. He was just\nripening into manhood, of an uncommonly lithe and agile frame,\nexceedingly fair and graceful, and gifted with unusual powers of\nintellect. He was one of the rarest geniuses of the age, and astonished\nand amused the court with the variety and beauty of his poems, and other\nworks of taste. Nor did his intellectual accomplishments exceed his\nheroism and loyalty. Guatimozin had not an abler or more devoted\nchieftain in all his realm. It was he who fought side by side with the\nEmperor in all his after conflicts, endured with him the horrors of the\nwasting siege and painful captivity which followed, and finally shared\nhis cruel and shameful martyrdom, at the hands of the then\nterror-stricken and cowardly Cortez, declaring with his last breath,\nthat he desired no better or more glorious lot, than to die by the side\nof his lord.\n\nNahuitla, like all good knights and brave soldiers, to say nothing of\ntrue poets, had a heart warmly susceptible of tender impressions, and\ncould not resist the bright eyes and witching smiles, that illuminated\nthe saloons and gardens of the imperial palace. Promiscuous flirtation\nwas less hazardous in Tenochtitlan than in most of the capitals of\nChristendom. The wealthy nobles being allowed to marry as many wives as\nthey could support, the young prince could win the affections of all the\nbright daughters of the valley, without at all apprehending a suit for\nbreach of promise, or a conspiracy against his own life, or that of his\nfavorite, by some disappointed rival. How many conquests he made in one\nbrief campaign, does not appear in the chronicles of the day. Atlacan, a\nprincess of Tezcuco, was his first trophy. She was very fair and highly\ngifted, resembling in many points of person and character, the guardian\ngenius of the young Empress, the talented Karee.\n\nAt his first encounter with the Tezcucan princess, Nahuitla was deeply\nimpressed with a peculiar expression of thoughtfulness, shading a\nbrilliantly beautiful countenance, and imposing a kind of constrained\nawe upon the stranger. This shadow gradually disappeared upon a further\nacquaintance, till the whole face and person were so lighted up with the\nfire of her genius and wit, that it seemed as if invested with a\nsupernatural halo. Their intercourse was a perfect tournament of wit,\nand their brilliant sallies and sparkling repartees, were the theme of\nuniversal admiration.\n\nThe princess Atlacan was always attended by a very prudent, watchful,\nanxious chaperone, of a fair exterior, and pleasing manners, who had\npassed the meridian of life, and begun to wane into the cool of its\nevening. She had also a brother, Maxtli, considerably older than\nherself, who, from a two-fold motive, seemed to delight in disappointing\nher expectations, and thwarting her plans. He was a cold, mercenary,\nselfish man, who sought only his own aggrandizement. The princess was a\nspecial favorite of her father, who was a prince of the highest rank,\nand nearly related to the reigning king of Tezcuco. She had already\nreceived many substantial proofs of parental partiality, which her\navaricious brother would fain have claimed for himself. Her brilliant\nqualities and growing influence made her an object of jealousy, as\nseeming to stand in the way of his own preferment. He had used every\nexertion to dispose of her in marriage to some of her numerous suitors,\nand had particularly advocated the cause of a wealthy young merchant of\nCholula, who rejoiced in the euphonous name of Xitentloxiltlitl, from\nwhom Maxtli had received large presents of gold and jewels.\n\nAtlacan despised the merchant, who fondly imagined that his gold could\npurchase any jewel in the realm. She would not listen to his proposals.\nIt was not pride of family, for in Anahuac, under the Aztec dynasty, the\nmerchant was a man of note, scarcely inferior to the proudest noble. But\nthe merchant was _only_ a merchant, a man of one idea, and that was\ngold, without refinement, without sentiment, without heart, like the\nmajority of the same class of mere money mongers all the world over.\n\nMaxtli was enraged by his sister's refusal of this alliance, which, if\nit had been consummated, he would have made subservient to his own\ninterests. He determined, from mere revenge, to throw obstacles in the\nway of her alliance with the gifted prince of Tlacopan. The annoyances\nhe invented, and the frequent prudential interposition of her cautious\nchaperone, who was in the pay of Maxtli, made her position rather a\ndifficult one, and often put her disposition to the severest test. It\nchanced, one lovely evening, that the lovers had stolen a march upon\nboth their tormentors, and found, in the royal gardens, a few moments of\nthat unwatched uninterrupted conference, which only those in the same\ndelicate relation, at the same period of life, know how to appreciate.\nTheir absence from the saloons was soon noticed. The duenna was severely\ncensured, and sent in pursuit of the fugitive. Karee, who was in the\nsecret of the escape, led her a long and wearisome chase, through the\nnumberless halls and corridors of that immense pile, and finally left\nher, at the furthest extremity of the building, to find her way back as\nshe could. Then, returning to Maxtli, who could scarce restrain his rage\nthat they had so long eluded him--\n\n\"My lord,\" said she, \"can you tell me where I shall find your sister? I\nhave a message for her, which I can only deliver to her personally.\"\n\n\"I know not,\" he replied angrily, \"but she is probably flirting\nsomewhere with that fool fop, the royal bard of Tlacopan. But from whom\ndoes your message come?\"\n\n\"That can only be made known to herself. I saw her some time since, in\nthe garden, leaning upon the arm of this same royal bard, the only young\nprince in Anahuac worthy of such a jewel.\"\n\nThe prince bit his lip with vexation, and Karee ran off toward the\ngarden. In a few moments, the poor old chaperone came blustering along,\nout of breath and out of humor.\n\n\"Fie upon the giddy girls of this generation,\" she exclaimed, \"they know\nnothing of propriety. I wonder what would have been thought of such\nactions when _I_ was young!\"\n\n\"Hasten to the garden,\" said Maxtli, impatiently, \"your hopeful pupil is\nthere, and that rhyming fop is with her.\"\n\nHe might as well have sent her to the labyrinth of Lemnos or Crete.\nCovering an immense area, and traversed in every direction by serpentine\nwalks, shaded lanes, and magnificent avenues, one might have wandered up\nand down there a week, without finding one who wished to elude pursuit.\nShe obeyed his directions, however, and was soon lost in mazes more\nintricate and perplexing than those of the palace.\n\nPresently the truants returned, by a different path from that which\ntheir pursuer had taken. The princess wore in her bosom a significant\nflower, which she had received and accepted from her admirer. With a\nlight and joyous step, he led her through the crowded saloon, and\npresented her to the queen, craving her sanction to the vows they had\njust plighted to each other. Gracefully placing a chaplet of white roses\nand amaranths on their heads, the Empress gave them her blessing.\nGuatimozin, approaching at the same instant, confirmed it with hearty\ngood will, and requested that the nuptials might be celebrated at an\nearly day, and in his own palace.\n\nSo distinguished a favor could not be refused. In the course of the next\nweek the solemn ceremonies were performed; with all the imposing pomp of\nthe Aztec ritual. A royal banquet was prepared, and the palace resounded\nwith joyous revelry and music.\n\nWhen the officiating priest had uttered the last solemn words which\nsealed the indissoluble bond, Nahuitla stood forth, and publicly avowed\nhis belief, that the gods designed only one woman for each man, solemnly\nrenounced the old doctrine of polygamy, and pledged to his young bride,\nin the presence of his royal master, and the brilliant throng that had\nwitnessed his vows of love and constancy, an undivided heart, and an\nundivided house.\n\nStruck with surprise and admiration at this unexpected scene, and\nimpressed with the truth and purity of the sentiments, and the soundness\nof the conclusions, which the brave prince had proclaimed, the Emperor\nrose from his throne, and, with a bland but dignified and solemn air,\naddressed him:--\n\n\"You are right, Nahuitla, my brave prince; I feel it in my heart, you\nare right. I feel it in the claim which _your_ Empress and _mine_,\n(looking affectionately at Tecuichpo,) has in the undivided empire of my\nheart, and in that sacred bond of union which is so close, that it\ncannot be shared by another without being broken. In the presence of\nthese holy men, and of these my witnessing people, I solemnly subscribe\nto the same pure vow which you have uttered, pledging my whole self, in\nthe marriage covenant to this my chosen and beloved queen, even as she\nhas pledged her whole self to me. And I ordain the same, as the law of\nthis my realm, and binding on all my loyal subjects for ever.\"[D]\n\nIf the noble Guatimozin had been permitted to sway the Aztec sceptre in\npeace, his name would be embalmed in the hearts of all the women of\nAnahuac, and the anniversary of the nuptials of Nahuitla and Atlacan\nwould be celebrated, to this day, as the household jubilee of the\nnation.\n\nThe conclusion of this festival--the last of the kind that was ever\ncelebrated in the halls of Montezuma--was a unique and magnificent\nspecimen of Aztec taste and luxury. At a signal from the master of\nceremonies, the royal garden was suddenly illuminated by a thousand\ntorches, borne by as many well trained servants in white livery. They\nwere so stationed as to represent, from different points of view, groups\nof bright figures whirling in the mazy evolutions of a wild Indian\ndance. The harmony of their movements, and the picturesque effect of\ntheir frequent changes of position, was truly wonderful. It seemed more\nlike magic than any thing belonging to the ordinary denizens of earth.\nBy continually passing and re-passing each other, approaching and\nreceding, raising and depressing their torches, the bearers were enabled\nto describe a great variety of fantastic figures. So well did they\nperform their parts, that, to the crowd of spectators from the palace,\nit was a perfect pantomime of light.\n\nAt length the dance ended, and the figures of the various groups in\nlight, gathering around a high altar, all of fire, seemed waiting for\nsome sacred rite to be performed. Presently a tall princely figure was\nseen, approaching with slow and solemn pace, leading a lovely female to\nthe altar. The high priest joined their hands in the indissoluble bond,\nand waved his wand of fire over their heads, in token of the divine\nblessing; upon which the dance of the torches was instantly renewed,\naccompanied with strains of the most joyous music, each group breathing\nout its peculiar airs and melodies, while the whole were beautifully\nblended and harmonized by the master spirit of the fete. It seemed like\nthe bridal of two angels of light, witnessed and celebrated by all the\nstars and constellations of the celestial spheres.\n\nThe sudden extinguishment of these pantomimic stars, revealed to the\nsurprised revellers the presence of the dawn, before whose coming the\nstars of every sphere go out, and revelry gives place to the sober\nrealities of life.\n\n   [D] If this incident be deemed apocryphal, by the rigid\n   historian, the fable is fully justified by the known state of\n   public sentiment among the Aztecs at this time. Sagahun,\n   according to a note in Prescott, states, that polygamy, though\n   allowed, was by no means generally practised among them; and\n   that the prevailing sentiment of the nation was opposed to it.\n   One of the very few relics of their ancient literature, which\n   were preserved in the general devastation of the conquest, is a\n   letter of advice from a father to his child, on the eve of her\n   marriage, in which he declares that it was the purpose of God,\n   in his grand design of replenishing the earth, to make the\n   sexes equal, and to allow only one wife to each man; and any\n   deviation from this arrangement, was contrary to the plainest\n   laws of nature.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER X.\n\n  RETURN OF CORTEZ--SIEGE OF TENOCHTITLAN--BRAVERY AND\n    SUFFERINGS OF THE AZTECS.\n\n   ~What will not man endure, and woman too,\n    To guard the hearth and altar? Give to each\n    A thousand lives, and hedge them close around\n    With all that makes it martyrdom to die,\n    And agony to suffer--freely still,\n    With all their wealth of blood, and love, and tears,\n    They'll yield them every one, and dying, wish\n    They had a thousand more to give--~\n\n\nGuatimozin was kept constantly informed of the preparations and\nmovements of the Spaniards. His faithful spies followed them in all\ntheir marches, and found no difficulty in divining their general\nintentions and plans, as their courage revived on their arrival at\nTlascala, and still more on the accession of a large reinforcement of\nSpaniards at Vera Cruz. Cortez was now as resolute as ever in his\npurpose of conquest, and determined to regain his position in the\ncapital, or perish in the attempt. He went with the sword in one hand\nand the olive-branch in the other, if that can be called an\nolive-branch, which admits of no answer but submission, and offers no\nalternative but slavery or death. With a large increase of cavalry and\nartillery, an ample supply of ammunition, and a force both of Castilian\nand Indian allies, more than double of that which accompanied him on his\nformer expedition, he took up his line of march from the friendly city\nof Tlascala, to cross the mountain barrier that separated him from his\nprey. Previous to his departure, he gave orders for the construction of\na considerable number of brigantines, under the inspection of\nexperienced Spanish shipwrights, conceiving the singular and original\nidea of transporting them, on the shoulders of his men, across the\nmountains, and launching them upon the lake of Tezcuco, to aid him in\nlaying siege to the city. His march was unchallenged till he arrived on\nthe very shores of the great lake, and stood before the walls of\nTezcuco.\n\nHere he halted, and sent a message to the governor to throw open his\ngates, and renew his allegiance to the crown of Castile. The messenger\nreturned with a request that the Spaniard would delay his entry into the\ncity, until the next morning, when he should be prepared to give him a\nsuitable reception. Cortez, suspecting that all was not right, ascended\none of the Teocalli in the neighborhood, to ascertain if any hostile\nmovement was contemplated. To his surprise, he saw immense crowds of\npeople, thronging the thoroughfares on the other side of the city, and\ngoing, with as much of their substance as they could carry, towards the\nmetropolis. Supposing that the city, when evacuated, would be given up\nto the flames, and that he should thus be cut off not only from\nsupplies, but from a place of shelter and retreat, he instantly sent\nforward a strong body of horse, with a battalion of infantry, to arrest\nthe fugitives, and to demand an interview with the cacique.\n\nFlight having been resolved upon, and the city having been devoted to\ndestruction, as the most effectual annoyance to the Spaniards, no\npreparations were made to resist such a movement as this. The unarmed\nfugitives returned to their homes, in great numbers, and the city, with\nall its abandoned palaces and temples, offered ample accommodations to\nthe invaders. The person of the chief was not secured, he having\neffected his escape, with the principal part of his nobles, and all his\narmy, to the capital. Cortez, assuming to act in the name of the king of\nCastile, for whom he claimed the sovereignty of all these lands,\nimmediately deposed the reigning chief, absolving the people from all\nfurther allegiance to him, and installed his brother, who was favorable\nto the cause of the Spaniards, in his place.\n\nThus secured in such commanding quarters, the haughty Castilian surveyed\nthe field around him, and prepared himself, with great diligence and\ndeliberation, to regain possession of it. The most liberal and\nconciliating overtures were made to the Emperor, if he would peaceably\nacknowledge the sovereignty of Castile, and admit him, as the\nrepresentative of that crown, to the capital. These overtures were\npromptly and scornfully rejected, and every avenue to amicable\nnegotiation effectually closed. The people of the country were sternly\nforbidden, on pain of death, from holding any intercourse with the\nstrangers, or from administering, in any manner, to their wants. Large\nrewards were offered for captives, and every inducement held out to\nencourage the natives in a resistance, that should admit of no quarter,\nand terminate only in the utter extermination of one of the parties.\nGuatimozin was a man every way adapted to a crisis like this. Of a firm\nindomitable spirit, patient of suffering and of toil, and skilful in all\nthe strategy of war and defence, and possessed of the entire confidence\nand affection of his own people, he applied himself to the work of\nself-preservation, with an energy and fertility of resource, which\nscarcely ever, in a righteous cause, fails to ensure success. That he\nwas suffered to fail, is one of those inscrutable providences which\nstand frequently out on the page of history, to confound the\nshort-sighted sagacity of man, and restrain his too inquisitive desire\nto fathom the counsels and purposes of heaven.\n\nPerceiving that the ground was to be contested, step by step, and that\nnot a foot would be yielded but at the point of the bayonet, and the\nmouth of the cannon, Cortez resolved on reducing the smaller towns\nfirst, and so approaching the capital, by slow degrees, leaving no\nunfriendly territory behind him, to cut off his supplies, or annoy his\nrear. In this manner, after almost incredible hardships, and many severe\ncontests, in which his forces were very considerably reduced, he\nsucceeded in wresting by violence, or winning by diplomacy, many of the\ntributary cities and districts from their allegiance to the Mexican\ncrown. In their attempt upon Iztapalapan, which was led by Cortez in\nperson, they were near being entirely overwhelmed by an artificial\ninundation of the city. The great dikes were pierced by the natives, and\nthe waters of the lake came pouring in upon them, in torrents, from\nwhich they made their escape with the utmost difficulty, with the loss\nof all their booty and ammunition, and not a few of their Indian allies.\nThe place, however, was reduced to submission. Chalco, Otumba, and many\nother important posts were soon after added to the number of the\nconquered.\n\nThis work of subjugation among the tributary provinces and cities, was\nnot a little facilitated by the memory of the iron rule of Montezuma,\nand his severe exactions upon all his subjects, to maintain the\nsplendors of the imperial palace. They had long felt these exactions to\nbe most burdensome and unequal, and had only submitted to them by force\nof the terror of that name, which made all Anahuac tremble. They were,\ntherefore, not unwilling to embrace any opportunity to throw off the\nAztec yoke, when they could do it with the hope of ultimate protection\nfrom its vengeance. They had not long enough tested the administration\nof Guatimozin, to look for any relief from their burdens under his\nreign. He came to the throne at one of those signal crises in the\naffairs of the empire, which demanded all its resources, both physical\nand pecuniary, and was therefore compelled, for the time, rather to\nincrease than diminish their taxes, and make heavier requisitions than\nusual upon their personal services. They were ready for a change of\nmasters, and, as is usual in such cases, did not stop to consider\nwhether the change might not be rather for the worse than for the\nbetter. As soon, therefore, as they ascertained that the Spanish power\nwas sufficient to protect them against the fury of their old oppressors,\nthey rushed to their standard, and arrayed themselves against the brave\ndefenders of their native land. The event proved that the rod of iron\nwas exchanged for a two-edged one of steel, a natural sovereign of their\nown race, for a worse than Egyptian task-master, and a subjection which\nleft undisturbed their ancient customs, and the common relations of\nsociety, for an indiscriminate slavery which respected neither person\nnor property, and levelled alike the public and private institutions of\nthe land.\n\nMeanwhile the brigantines, which had been rapidly progressing at\nTlascala, were completed. They were thirteen in number. They were first\nput together, and tried upon the waters of the Tahnapan; then taken to\npieces, and the timbers, with all the tackle and apparel, including\nanchors, transported on the shoulders of the Tlascalan laborers, over\nthe hills, and through the narrow defiles of the mountain, a distance of\nsixty miles, and re-constructed within the walls of Tezcuco. To open a\ncommunication with the lake, it was still necessary to make a canal, a\nmile and a half in length, twelve feet wide, and as many deep. This was\naccomplished in season for launching the little fleet, having eight\nthousand men employed upon it during two months. It was a day of great\nrejoicing and appropriate religious solemnity, when that little squadron\nappeared, with the ensign of Castile floating proudly at each mast head,\ntheir white sails swelling in the breeze, the smoke of the cannon\nrolling around, and the deep thunder reverberating from every side of\nthe distant mountains.\n\nThere is, perhaps, no single achievement in the annals of human\nenterprize, more remarkable than this. There is certainly none which\nmore clearly shows, or more beautifully illustrates, the daring\nindomitable spirit, and mighty genius, which alone could have achieved\nthe conquest of Mexico. Who but Cortez would have conceived of such a\ndesign? Who but Cortez would have attempted and successfully executed\nit? To construct thirteen vessels of sufficient burthen to sustain the\nweight and action of heavy cannon, and accommodate the men and soldiers\nnecessary to navigate and defend them, at a distance of twenty leagues\nfrom the waters on which they were to swim--to convey them over\nmountains, and through deep and difficult defiles, on the shoulders of\nmen, without the aid of any species of waggon, or beast of burden, and\nto do this in the midst of a country, and with the aid of a people,\nwhere nothing had hitherto been known beyond the primitive bark canoe,\nand where the natural associations, and prevailing superstitions of the\nnatives, were totally adverse to his design--to accomplish this alone\nwould immortalize any other man. What was the passage of the Alps by\nHannibal, or by Napoleon, compared to this? Yet, so replete was the\nwhole expedition of Cortez with adventures of unparalleled difficulty,\nand achievements of dazzling splendor, that this is but a common event\nin his history, with nothing small or insignificant to place it in\ncommanding relief. It was one of the infelicities in the career of this\nwonderful man, that he was continually eclipsing himself, showing an\noriginality and power of conception, a fertility of invention and\nresource, and a determination and energy in overcoming difficulties, and\nmaking occurrences, seemingly the most adverse, bend to his will and\nsubserve his designs, which wearies our surprise and admiration, and\nactually exhausts our capacity of astonishment.\n\nNothing was now wanting to complete the arrangements of the invader for\nlaying siege to Tenochtitlan. By the aid of the brigantines, he was able\nto command the entire lake, sweeping away the frail canoes of the\nnatives, like bubbles on the surface. All the cities and towns on its\nborder had fallen, one after another, into his hands, though not without\na desperate defence, and frequent and wasting sallies from the foe. The\nmetropolis, that beautiful and magnificent gem upon the fair bosom of\nthe lake, now stood alone, deserted by all her friends and supporters,\nthe object of the concentrated hostility of the foreign invader, the\nancient enemy, and the recent ally.\n\nIn that devoted capital, now so closely and fearfully invested, there\nwas a spirit and power fully equal to the awful crisis. As soon as\nGuatimozin perceived, by the movements of his enemy, that the city was\nto be assailed rather by the slow and wasting siege, than by the storm\nof war, he made every possible preparation to sustain himself at his\npost. The aged, the infirm, the sick, and, as far as possible, all the\nhelpless among the inhabitants, were sent off among the neighboring\ntowns, and country; while all those who were able to do service in the\narmy, were brought thence into the city. Provisions were collected in\ngreat quantities, and all the resources then left to the empire\nconcentrated upon one point, that of making an obstinate, unyielding\ndefence. In this condition of affairs the siege commenced; a large part\nof the fighting men of the neighboring cities and towns being in the\ncapital, preparing to defend it against enemies with whom those cities\nand towns were now in close alliance. Though it thus brought the father\nagainst the son, and the son against the father, in many instances, it\ndid not, in any case, disappoint the confidence of Guatimozin, or\nundermine the loyalty of his troops. There were no deserters from his\nstandard. Through all the horrors of that wasting siege, they stood by\ntheir sovereign, and their capital, as if they knew no other home, no\nother friend.\n\nIn vain did the Castilian commander propose terms of accommodation to\nthe beleaguered city. The Emperor would not condescend even to an\ninterview. His chiefs and his people, whenever they had an opportunity\nto do so, treated every attempt at compromise with utter scorn. They\nderided Cortez upon his disastrous evacuation of the capital on \"the\nmelancholy night,\" assuring him that, if he should enter its gates now,\nhe would not find a Montezuma on the throne. They taunted their\nTlascalan allies as women, who would never have dared to approach the\ncapital, without the protection of the white men.\n\nSustained by this spirit, the warlike Mexican did not content himself\nwith mere measures of defence. Frequent and desperate sallies were made\nupon the outposts of the enemy, until it seemed as if the hope of the\nnoble Guatimozin might possibly be realized, that he might slowly and\ngradually destroy an enemy, whom he could not encounter in a pitched\nbattle.\n\nIt was not until the last avenue to the surrounding country was cut off,\nby divisions of the invading army, planted upon all the causeways,\nsupported in all their movements by the thundering brigantines, that the\ntrue spirit of the besieged began to show itself. Till then, their\ntables had been plentifully supplied, and their hopes continually\nencouraged by the occasional losses of their enemy, whose numbers were\ntoo small to admit of much diminution. The priests were unremitting in\ntheir appeals to the patriotism of the people, and in promises of\npeculiar divine blessings on all who should persevere to the last, in\ndefence of their altars and their gods. Guatimozin was ever among his\npeople, encouraging them by kind words, and an example of unyielding\ndefiance to every advance of the foe. He showed that he was not less the\nfather of his people, than their king, suffering the same exposure, and\nenduring the same fatigues with the boldest and hardiest of his\nsubjects.\n\nSuch was their confidence of ultimate success in the defence of the\ncapital, that the splendor and gaiety of the court was little\ndiminished, until famine began to stare them in the face. The aqueduct\nof Chapoltepec had been cut off, and there was no longer any supply of\nwholesome water in the city. The dark visions of the lovely queen were\nnow renewed. For a brief season, she had been permitted to revel in\ndaylight, with scarcely a cloud to darken the sky above her. Suddenly\nthat light was obscured. All was gloom and darkness around her. War,\ndesolating war hovered once more about the gates of the beloved city.\nWan faces, and haggard forms began to take the places of the gay, happy,\nspirited multitudes, that so recently thronged the palace. The image of\nher father, insulted by the stranger, murdered by his own people, rose\nto her view. His melancholy desponding look and tone, as he gave way to\nthe doom which he felt was sealed upon him, his frequent assurances that\nthe white men were \"the men of destiny,\" the heaven appointed\nproprietors and rulers of the land, and that wo would betide all who\nshould oppose their pretensions, or offer resistance to their invincible\narms--all these came up fresh to her thoughts, and filled her with\nsadness. Her own ill-starred destiny too, marked by every possible sign\nand presage, as full of darkness and sorrow--the thought was almost\noverwhelming. Fain would she have severed at once the bond that linked\nher fate with that of Guatimozin, for she felt that he was only sharing\nher doom, and on her account was exposed to these terrible shafts of\nfate. The love of Guatimozin, the faithful devotion of Karee, though\nthey soothed in some measure her troubled spirit, could not wholly\nre-assure her, or dissipate the dreadful thought, that all these\nterrible calamities were come upon the nation only as a part of that\ndark doom, for which the gods had marked her out, on her very entrance\ninto life.\n\nIt was long before the Emperor and his immediate household, were made\naware of the awful pressure of famine within that devoted city. Watchful\nand observing as he was, the people, with one consent, had contrived to\nkeep him in comparative ignorance of the growing scarcity, in order that\nthey might be permitted to supply his table, as long as possible, with\nall the necessaries and luxuries of life. So far was this loyal devotion\ncarried, that multitudes, both of the chiefs and of the common people,\nwere daily in the habit of denying themselves of every thing but what\nwas absolutely necessary to sustain life, and sending to the palace\nevery article of fresh food, or delicate fruit, which they could obtain\nfrom their own gardens, or purchase from those of others. This noble\ndevotion on the part of his people, was discovered and made known to the\nEmperor by Karee. She was the almoner of the bounty of the queen to\nmultitudes of the poor and the sick, in different quarters of the city.\nOn one of her errands of mercy, while she was administering to the\ncomfort of a poor friend, in the last stages of mortal disease, made\nten-fold more appalling by the absence of almost every thing that could\nsustain nature in the final struggle, she overheard the conversation of\na father with his child in the adjoining room.\n\n\"Nay, my dear father, you must eat it. Your strength is almost gone, and\nhow can you stand among the fighting men, and defend your king and your\nhouse, when you have eaten nothing for two whole days?\"\n\n\"My precious child, I shall find something when I go out. But this\nmorsel is for you, for I know you cannot live till I come home, if you\ndo not eat this. And what will life be worth when you are gone.\"\n\n\"Father, dear father, I cannot eat it. It will do me more good to see\nyou eat it, for then I shall be sure you can live another day at least,\nand then, who knows but the gods will send us help.\"\n\nKaree could listen no longer. Rushing into the apartment whence these\nmelancholy sounds proceeded, she beheld the shadow of a once beautiful\ngirl leaning on the arm of the pale and wasted figure of a man,\nendeavoring to draw him towards a table on which lay a single morsel of\ndried fruit, which he had brought in for her, it being the only food\nthat either of them had seen for two days.\n\n\"Take this,\" said she, offering the sweet child a portion of what she\nhad prepared for the invalid, but which she was too far gone to receive,\n\"and may it give you both strength till the day of our deliverance.\" And\nshe instantly returned to the death-bed of her friend.\n\nTo the famishing group it was like the apparition of an angel, with a\ngift from the gods. The savory mess was readily divided, though the\naffectionate self-denying child contrived to cheat her father into\nreceiving a little more than his share, while he tried every effort in\nvain, to persuade her to take the larger half. The wretched pair had not\nhad such a feast for many a long week. \"Ah!\" exclaimed the daughter, as\nshe wept over the luxurious repast, \"if our dear mother could have had\nsuch a morsel as this, before she died, to stay her in that last\ndreadful agony.\"\n\n\"Yes, my beloved child,\" replied the subdued and bitterly bereaved\nfather, \"but she has gone where there is plenty, and no tears mingled\nwith it.\"\n\nThe dried fruit was laid away for the morrow. But the same kind hand\nthat relieved them on that day, was there again on the morrow, and on\nevery succeeding day, till the city was sacked, and the wretched ghosts\nof its inhabitants given up to an indiscriminate slaughter.\n\nWhen Guatimozin was made acquainted with this incident, he resolved on\nmaking another desperate sally, with the whole force of his wasted army,\nin the forlorn hope of breaking through the ranks of the enemy, and\nprocuring some subsistence for his famishing people. Having drawn them\nup in the great square, his heart sunk within him, when he saw their\npale faces and emaciated forms, and contrasted them with the fierce,\nstout, and seemingly invincible host, whom he had so often led into\nbattle. But the feeling of despondency gave way instantly to that stern\nfixed purpose, that terrible decision of soul, which is the natural\noffspring of desperation. With a firm voice, he addressed them.\n\n\"My brave soldiers, we must not any longer lie still. The enemy is at\nour gates, and we are perishing in our own citadel. Have we not once\ndriven them, with a terrible and almost exterminating slaughter, along\nthose very causeways which they now claim to occupy and to close up? Are\nthey more invincible now than then? Are we less resolute, less fearless?\nBy our famishing wives and children, by our desecrated altars and gods,\nlet us rush upon them and overwhelm them at once.\"\n\nThe monarch had not yet finished his stirring appeal, when a courier\nrushed in, bringing tidings that the several divisions of the besieging\narmy were moving up the causeways, and approaching the city on every\nside.\n\n\"They come to their own destruction,\" said the monarch, bitterly, and\nimmediately proceeded to distribute his men, to give them a fitting\nreception. The larger part of the forces were ordered to occupy several\nsomewhat retired places, amid the great public buildings in the centre\nof the city, where they should be in readiness to obey the royal signal.\nThe remainder were to go out, in their several divisions, to meet and\nskirmish with the advancing foe, doing them as much mischief as\npossible, yet suffering themselves to be driven before them, till they\nwere decoyed into the heart of the city. The signal would then be given,\nwhen every man who could draw a bow, or wield a lance, or throw a stone,\nwould be expected to do his duty.\n\nIt was a stratagem worthy of Guatimozin, and, in its execution, had well\nnigh overwhelmed the Spaniards, and saved the city. Cortez had appointed\nwith the captains of each division of his army to meet in the great\nsquare of the city. Each one being eager to be first at the goal, they\nfollowed the retreating Aztecs without consideration, and without making\nany provision for their own retreat. The watchful agents of Guatimozin\nwere behind as well as before them; and when they had passed the gates,\nand were pressing up, with all the heat and enthusiasm of a victorious\narmy, into the heart of the city, the bridges were taken up in their\nrear, to cut off, if possible, their retreat. When this was effected,\nthe fatal horn of Guatimozin blew a long loud blast, from the summit of\nthe great Teocalli. In an instant, the retreating Aztecs turned upon\ntheir pursuers, like tigers ravening upon their prey; while swarms of\nfresh warriors poured in from every lane and street and avenue, rushing\nso fiercely upon the too confident assailants, as to bring them to a\nsudden pause in their triumphant career. At the same moment, the roof of\nevery house and temple, along the whole line of their march, was covered\nwith men, who poured upon them such a shower of stones that it seemed\nimpossible to escape being buried under them. The tide of battle was now\nturned. The too daring invaders were thrown into confusion, and\ncompelled to retreat. This they soon found, to their bitter cost, was\nnearly impossible. When it was discovered that the bridges, over which\nthey had so recently passed, were removed, the utmost consternation\nprevailed. The heavy cannon were all on board the brigantines, so that\nthey were unable, as in former times, to mow down the solid ranks of\ntheir foes, and break a way for their retreat. Their cavalry was of\nlittle service, for they could not leap the wide chasms made by the\nremoval of the bridges. Cut off in front by the solid masses of warriors\nthat blocked up every avenue, and in the rear by these yawning chasms,\nand hemmed in on each side by the massive stone walls of the buildings,\nthey could neither protect themselves, nor effectually annoy their\nenemy. They were in imminent danger of perishing ignobly in the ditch,\nwithout even striking a blow in their own defence.\n\nFortunately for the invaders, their sagacious and ever-wakeful general\nhad anticipated the possibility of such a scene as this, and had taken\nsome measures to forestall it. His officers, however, were too\nhigh-spirited and self-confident to condescend to the cowardly drudgery\nof carrying out his precautionary measures. They thought only of\nvictory, and the spoils of the glorious city, which they now regarded as\ntheir own.\n\nIn this fearful dilemma, the genius of Cortez did not desert him. When\nthe first shout of battle reached his ears, as he was advancing\ncautiously along the avenue, he instantly conjectured the cause.\nOrdering his own column to halt, and selecting a chosen band of his best\ncavalry, he wheeled about, dashed furiously down the avenue, and put to\nflight the unarmed Aztecs, who were doing the work of destruction for\nhim, and had then almost succeeded in tearing away the foundations of\nthe great bridge. Making his way through the deserted streets, with the\nspeed of the wind, he came round into the other avenue, where one\ndivision of his army was hemmed in, in the manner above described.\nCharging impetuously upon the gathering crowds of Aztecs, he succeeded\nin forcing his way up to the chasm, where he stood face to face with his\nown troops on the other side. Here, in the midst of a pitiless tempest\nof stones, and darts and arrows, he maintained his stand, while his men,\nwith incredible labor, attempted to fill up the chasm.\n\nThe work was at length accomplished, though not without the most serious\nloss to Cortez. Some of his bravest officers fell in that merciless\ncontest with foes who would neither give nor receive quarter. Many were\npelted down with the huge stones, that ceased not to rain upon them from\nall the neighboring house tops. Some were taken by the feet as they\nlabored to maintain a precarious footing on the slippery causeway, and\ndragged into the canals, either to be drowned in the desperate struggle\nthere, or carried off in the canoes to captivity or sacrifice. Cortez\nhimself narrowly escaped immolation.\n\nAt length, through the indomitable perseverance of the general, the\nbreach was so far filled up as to make a practicable passage for the\ntroops. A retreat was sounded, and that gallant band, which, a few hours\nbefore had rushed in with flaunting banners, and confident boastings of\nan easy victory, was glad to escape from the snare into which they had\nfallen, their numbers greatly reduced, their banners soiled and\ntattered, and their expectations of ultimate success terribly shaken.\nThey were pursued through all their march by the exulting Aztecs, and\nmany a broken head and bruised limb attested the truth of Guatimozin's\ntaunting challenge, that the Spaniards, if they entered the capital\nagain, would find as many fortresses as there were houses, as many\nassailants as stones in the streets.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XI.\n\n  STRAITNESS OF THE FAMINE--THE FINAL CONFLICT--FLIGHT AND\n    CAPTURE OF GUATIMOZIN--DESTINY FULFILLED.\n\n           ~Death opens every door,\n    And sits in every chamber by himself.\n    If what might feed a sparrow should suffice\n    For soldiers' meals, ye have not wherewithal\n    To linger out three days. For corn, there's none;\n    A mouse, imprisoned in your granaries,\n    Were starved to death.~\n\n\nThis shameful defeat was a tremendous blow to the ardent anticipations\nof the conqueror. Many of the timid and the discontented in his own\nranks availed themselves of the opportunity to create divisions, and\nwithdraw from the doubtful contest. The Mexicans, strengthened by the\nspoils of their assailants, and yet more by the new courage which their\nlate success infused into every heart among them, immediately commenced\nrepairing their works, clearing their canals, and making the most\nvigorous preparations for maintaining the siege. Their priests,\ninfuriated with the number of sacrifices which they had been enabled to\noffer to the gods, from the captives of high and low degree taken in the\nconflict, declared with authoritative solemnity, that the anger of the\ngods was now appeased, and that they had promised unequivocally, the\nspeedy annihilation of their invading foes. This oracular declaration\nwas, by the order of Guatimozin, published in the hearing of the Indian\nallies of his adversary. It was a politic stroke, and, if the oracle had\nnot imprudently fixed too early a day for the execution of the predicted\nvengeance, its effect might have been such as to break for ever the\nbonds of that unnatural alliance, and leave the little handful of white\nmen, with all their boasted pretensions to immortality, to perish by the\nhands of their own friends.\n\nBut why dwell longer upon the appalling details of this miserable siege.\nThe day of predicted vengeance arrived, and the Spaniards survived it.\nTheir superstitious terror-stricken allies returned to their allegiance.\nBy a judicious administration of reward and discipline, of promise and\nthreatening, all disaffection was hushed. New measures of offence were\nconcerted, with a determination, on the part of the besiegers, to press\ninto the city by degrees, securing every step, as they advanced, by\nlevelling every building, and filling up every ditch, in their progress,\ntill not one stone should be left upon another in Tenochtitlan. This\nterrible resolution was carried into effect. Every building, whether\npublic or private, palace, temple, or Teocalli, from which they could be\nannoyed by the indomitable Aztec, was laid waste. The canals were filled\nup and levelled, so as to give free scope for the movements of the\ncavalry and artillery. The beautiful suburbs were reduced to a level\nplain, a dry arid waste, covered with the ruins of all that was dear and\nsacred in the eyes of the Aztec. Slowly, but surely, the Spaniard\npressed on towards the heart of the city, in which the heroic monarch,\nwith his miserable remnant of starving subjects and skeleton soldiers\nwere pent up, dying by thousands of famine and pestilence, and yet ready\nto suffer a thousand deaths, rather than yield themselves up to the\nmercy of the foe.\n\nThere was now absolutely nothing left, in earth or air, to sustain for\nanother day the poor remains of life in the camp of the besieged. Every\nfoot of ground had been dug over many times, in quest of roots, and even\nof worms. The leaves and bark had been stripped from every tree and\nshrub, till there was not a green thing on all those terraces, which\nwere once like the gardens of Elysium. The dead and the dying lay in\nheaps together, for there was neither life nor spirit in any that\nbreathed, to do the last office for the departed. Pestilence was in all\nthe air, so that many even of the besieging army snuffed it in the\nbreeze that swept over the city, and fell victims to the very fate which\ntheir cruel rapacity was inflicting on the besieged.\n\nFamine, cruel, gnawing famine, was in the palace of the Emperor, as well\nas in the hovel of his meanest subject. That noble prince quailed not\nbefore the fate that awaited himself. Had he stood alone in that\ncitadel, with power in his single arm to keep out the foe, he would have\nstood till death, in whatever form, released him from his post, and\nspurned every suggestion of compromise or quarter. But the scenes of\nutter distress which every where met his eye--the haggard ghosts of his\nfriends, flitting restlessly before him, or crawling feebly and with\nconvulsive moans among the upturned earth, in the forlorn hope of\nfinding another root--the dead--the dying--the more miserable living\nlonging for death, and glaring with their horribly prominent, but glazed\nand expressionless eye-balls on each other--this, this was too much for\nthe heart of Guatimozin.\n\n\"What!\" he exclaimed, \"shall I submit to see my last friend die before\nmy eyes, and my own sweet wife perish of hunger, only to retain for\nanother hour the empty name of king. No. I will endure it no longer. I\nwill go to Malinche, alone, and unaccompanied, and offer my life for\nyours. He only wants our gold. Let him find that if he can. He will\nspare _you_, and wreak all his vengeance on my head.\"\n\nA faint murmur ran through the crowd, and then a feeble expiring \"No,\nnever,\" burst feebly from many lips. One, a little stronger than the\nrest, arose and said--\n\n\"Most gracious sovereign, think not of us. We only ask to live and die\nwith and for you. And the more cruel the death, the more glorious the\nmartyrdom for our country and our gods. Trust not Malinche.\"\n\nThe speaker fainted and fell, with his fist clenched, and his teeth set,\nas if he felt that he held the last foe in mortal conflict.\n\n\"No, never--trust not Malinche--let us die together,\" was echoed by many\nsepulchral voices, that seemed more like the groans of the dead, than\nthe remonstrances of the living.\n\n\"Trust not Malinche, remember my father,\" whispered the fond, devoted,\nfaithful, affectionate wife, now the shadow of her former self,\nbeautiful in her queenly sorrow, sublime in her womanly composure.\n\nGuatimozin, the proud, the lofty chief, whose heart had never known\nfear, whose soul had never been subdued, bowed his head upon the bosom\nof his wife, and wept. The strong heart, the lion spirit melted.\n\n\"Who, who will care for Tecuichpo? Who will cherish the last daughter of\nMontezuma?\"\n\n\"Think not of me, Guatimozin, think of yourself and your people, I am\nresigned to my fate. If I may but die with you, it is all I desire--for\nhow could I live without you. But think not of trusting Malinche. Let us\nremain as we are. Another day, and we shall all be at rest from our\nsufferings. And surely it were better to die together by our altars,\nthan to fall into the hands of the treacherous stranger.\"\n\n\"Trust not Malinche,\" added Karee. \"Was it not trust in him that brought\nall this evil upon us? Think not of submission. You shall see that women\ncan die as well as men. Let Malinche come, and take possession of the\nremains of these mutilated walls and desolated gardens, but let him not\nclaim one living Aztec, to be his slave, or his subject.\"\n\nA murmur of approbation followed, and then a long pause ensued. It was\nlike the silence of death. The whole scene would have made an admirable\npicture. At length the silence was broken by the voice of the young\nCacique of Tlacopan.\n\n\"My sovereign,\" said he, in a faint voice, but with something of the\nenergy of despair, \"there is yet hope. Let us muster what force we can,\nof men who are able to stand, and sally out upon the enemy. We cannot do\nhim much harm. But, while he is occupied with us, you and your family,\nwith a few attendants can escape by a canoe over the lake. As many of\nus as have life and strength to do it, will follow you, under cover of\nthe coming night. Your old subjects will flock around you there, and we\nmay yet, when we shall have tasted food, and become men again, make a\nstand somewhere against the foe, and drive him out.\"\n\n\"It is well! it is well!\" was the feeble response on every side.\n\n\"I cannot leave you,\" replied the monarch. \"What! shall your king fly,\nlike a coward, while his people rush upon the enemy only to cover his\nretreat? No, that were worse than death--worse than captivity!\"\n\n\"It is not flight, my beloved sovereign,\" responded the Cacique, \"it is\nan honorable stratagem of war, for the good of the nation, not less than\nyour own. When _you_ are gone, we have no head, and we fall at once into\nthe captivity we so much dread. Leave us but the name and person of\nGuatimozin to rally around, and it will be a tower of strength, which\ncan never fail us.\"\n\n\"Yes, yes, it is right,\" was whispered on every side--\"Go, noble\nmonarch, go at once. It is a voice from heaven to save us.\"\n\nTo this counsel the priests added their earnest advice, and even\nTecuichpo ventured to say, \"it whispered of hope to her heart.\"\nGuatimozin suffered himself to be overruled. The canoes were made ready\nin the grand canal, which yet remained open on the eastern side. All\nthat could be safely taken of treasure, and of convenient apparel, was\ncarefully stowed. The Queen and other ladies of the court, with her\nfaithful Karee, all wasted to skeletons, and moving painfully, like\nphantoms of beauty in a sickly dream, were conveyed to the barges. The\nEmperor and his attendants followed, and all was in readiness for the\ndeparture. At that moment the martial horn was sounded from the great\nTeocalli, and the shadowy host of the Aztec army staggered forth to\noffer battle to the enemy. It was a fearful sight. It seemed as if the\narmies of the dead, the mighty warriors of the past, had risen from\ntheir graves, to fight for their desecrated altars, and to defend those\nvery graves from profanation. Feebly, but fearfully, with glaring eyes\nand hideous grin, they rushed upon the serried ranks of the besiegers. A\nkind of superstitious terror seized them, as if these shapes were\nsomething more than mortal. For a moment they gave way to panic, and\nfell back without striking a blow. Roused by the stentorian voice of\nCortez, they rallied instantly, and discharging their heavy fire arms,\nswept away whole ranks of their frenzied assailants. It was a brief\nconflict. Many of the Aztecs fell by the swords of the Spaniards, and\nthe spears of their merciless allies. Some fell, faint with their own\nexertions, and died without a wound. Some grappled desperately with the\nfoe, content to die by his hand, if they could first quench their\nburning thirst with one drop of his blood.\n\nAt length, a long blast from the horn sounded a retreat. The poor\nremnant turned towards the city, and were suffered to escape unmolested\nto their desolate homes.\n\nMeanwhile, the little fleet of Guatimozin had put forth upon the lake.\nThe canoes separated, as they left the basin of the canal, taking\ndifferent directions, the better to escape the observation of the\nbrigantines. The precaution was a wise one, but unavailing. The watchful\neye of the besieging general was there. The brigantines gave chase to\nthe fugitives. Bending to their paddles with the utmost strength of\ntheir feeble emaciated arms, they found their pursuers gaining upon\nthem. Casting their gold into the lake, Guatimozin directed them to\ncease their exertions, and wait the approach of the enemy.\n\n\"Not without one little effort more, I beseech you,\" exclaimed Karee.\n\"See, my chinampa is close at hand. Let us try to gain that. It has food\non its trees for many days, and I have there a place of concealment,\ncuriously contrived beneath the water, where you and the queen may\nremain without fear of detection, till we can effect your escape to the\nshore.\"\n\nIn an instant the paddles were in the water, and the canoe shot ahead\nwith unusual speed. The combined energy of hope and despair nerved every\narm, and fired every heart. They neared the beautiful chinampa. Their\neyes feasted on its fresh and cooling verdure, and its ripe fruits\nhanging luxuriantly on every bough. Their ears were ravished with the\nmusic of the birds, who had long since deserted their wonted haunts in\nthe capital.\n\nWhile the chase was gaining rapidly upon them, another of those fearful\nbrigantines, which had hitherto been concealed by the thick foliage of\nthe chinampa, rounded its little promontory, and appeared suddenly\nbefore them. Instantly, every paddle dropped, every arm was paralyzed.\nNot a word was spoken. In passive silence each one waited for his doom,\nwhich was now inevitable. When the Spaniard had approached within\nhailing distance, the Emperor rose in his little shallop, and, waving\nhis hand proudly, said, \"I am Guatimozin.\"\n\nThe royal prisoners were treated with the utmost deference and respect.\nBeing brought into the presence of Cortez, the monarch, pale, emaciated,\nthe shadow of what he had been, approached with an air of imperial\ndignity, and said--\n\n\"Malinche, I have done what I could to defend myself and protect my\npeople. Now I am your prisoner. Do what you will with me, but spare my\npoor people, who have shown a fidelity and an endurance worthy of a\nbetter fate.\"\n\nCortez, filled with admiration at the proud bearing of the young\nmonarch, assured him that not only his family and his people, but\nhimself should be treated with all respect and tenderness. \"Better,\"\nsaid Guatimozin, laying his hand on the hilt of the general's poignard,\n\"better rid me of life at once, and put an end to my cares and\nsufferings together.\"\n\n\"No,\" replied Cortez, \"you have defended your capital like a brave\nwarrior. I respect your patriotism, I honor you valor, and your firm\nendurance of suffering. You shall be my friend and the friend of my\nsovereign, and live in honor among your own people.\"\n\nThe keen eye of the monarch flashed with something like indignation,\nwhen allusion was made to the king of Castile, and to himself as his\nvassal.\n\n\"In honor I _cannot_ live,\" he said proudly, \"for I am defeated. A king\nI _cannot_ be, for he is no king who is subject to another. I am your\nprisoner. The gods have willed it, and I submit.\"\n\nRenewing his politic assurances of friendship and favor, the conqueror\nsent for the wife and family of his captive, first ordering a royal\nbanquet to be prepared for them. Supported by Karee, leaning on the arm\nof the devoted Nahuitla, the lord of Tlacopan, the queen was ushered\ninto the presence of the conqueror. Her appearance struck the general\nand his officers with admiration. Timid as she was by nature, she had\nthe air and port of inborn royalty; and, in deference to her husband,\nshe would not have allowed herself to quail before the assembled host of\nCastile, dreaded as they were, and had long been. With a becoming\ncourtesy, she returned the respectful salutations of Malinche and his\ncavaliers, and asked no other favor than to share the fate of her lord.\n\nWhat that fate was, and how the Castilian knight redeemed his pledges to\nhis unfortunate and noble captives, is matter of historical record. It\nis the darkest page in the memoir of that wonderful chief--a foul blot\nupon the name even of _that_ man, who was capable of requiting the\nsuperstitious reverence and confidence of a Montezuma, with a\ntreacherous and inglorious captivity in his own palace, and a yet more\ninglorious death at the hands of his own subjects. History must needs\nrecord it, dark and painful as it is. Romance would throw a veil over\nit.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nYears of intense suffering, of harrowing bereavement, of insult,\nhumiliation, and every species of mental and social distress, were yet\nappointed to the daughter of Montezuma, the bride of Guatimozin. Her\npredicted destiny was fulfilled to the letter. She bowed meekly to her\nfate, sustaining every reverse with a fortitude and composure of soul,\nthat indicated a mind of uncommon resources. It was a long, dark, stormy\nday, \"but in the evening time there was light.\" It was the light of\nfaith. She abandoned the false gods of her fathers, and found true and\nlasting peace in the cross of Jesus Christ.\n\n\n\n\nTHE FLIGHT\n\nOF\n\nTHE KATAHBA CHIEF.\n\n\n                Go now to Greece,\n    Or Rome--to Albion's sea-girt isle--to Gaul,\n    Ancient or modern--to the fiery realm\n    Of Turk or Arab--to the ice-bound holds\n    Of Alaric and Attila--and find,\n    If find thou canst, a nobler race of men--\n    More firm, more brave, more true--swifter of foot,\n    Or readier in action.\n\n\n\n\nTHE FLIGHT OF THE KATAHBA CHIEF.\n\n\n      Go not to the chase, my brave hunter, to-day,\n    There's a mist o'er the sun--there's a snare in the way;\n    Manitto revealed last night in my dream\n    A deep dark shadow o'erhanging the stream;\n    The deer, from his thicket, sprung out in thy path--\n    Then he changed to a tiger, and roared in his wrath--\n    Then the warrior hunter, so fearless and brave,\n    Was driven away, like a captive slave;\n    Then the smoke rolled up, and the flames curled high,\n    And the forest rung with the foeman's cry;\n    Then the wind swept by with a desolate wail--\n    The avenger of blood was on thy trail;--\n    Minaree looked out at the cabin door,\n    But her bold brave hunter returned no more.\n      Go not to the chase, my brave hunter, to-day,\n    There's a mist o'er the sun--there's a snare in the way.\n\nSo, in sweetly plaintive strains, chanted the beautiful young bride of a\nKatahba chief, as she prepared his frugal morning meal, while he was\nbusying himself in examining the string of his bow, replenishing his\nquiver with straight polished shafts, and renewing the edge of his\ntrusty hatchet.\n\nIn all the forest homes of the native tribes, there was not a fairer\nflower than Minaree, the loved and devoted wife of the brave\nAsh-te-o-lah. The only daughter of a chief of the Wateree tribe, which\nwas one branch of the great family of the Katahbas, she inherited the\nspirit and pride of her father, with all the simple beauty, and\nunsophisticated womanly tenderness of her mother. She was the idol of\nAsh-te-o-lah's heart; for, savage as the world would call him, and\nignorant of the codes of chivalry and of the courtly phrase of love, he\nwas as true to all the warmer and purer affections, which constitute the\nbliss of domestic life, as to the lofty sentiments of heroic virtue,\nwhich made him early conspicuous in the councils of his people. Though\nfearless as the lion, fleet as the roe, and adventurous, sagacious and\npowerful as any that ever sounded the war-whoop, or startled the deer,\nin those interminable wilds--he was noble, generous, warm-hearted, and\ndevotedly tender to the objects of his love.\n\nThe winning tones, and the affectionate glances of Minaree, as she\nchanted her simple prophetic lay, had almost won Ash-te-o-lah from his\npurpose. But, half doubting whether her oracular dream was any thing\nmore than a little artifice of affection, and always superior to that\nprevailing superstition of his people, which gave to dreams all the\nsanctity and force of divine revelation, and excited by the preparations\nhe had been making, he flung his rattling quiver to his back, whispered\na gentle intimation that Ash-te-o-lah feared neither tiger nor foeman,\nand returning the affectionate glance of his bride, left the wigwam.\n\nIt was a clear bright summer morning. There was a balmy sweetness in the\nair, and melody in all the groves; but they won not the ear, they\nregaled not the sense of Minaree, whose heart sunk within her, as she\nsaw her beloved Ash-te-o-lah launch his canoe into the stream, and dash\naway over its glassy surface, like a swallow on the wing. Ere he dipped\nhis paddle in the water, he turned and gracefully waved her a parting\nsalute, the affectionate desire to stay and soothe the troubled spirit\nof her dream, still struggling with that lofty pride which told him that\nhe had never yet shrunk from any form of danger, or known the name of\nfear.\n\nThe lands bordering on the Katahba, were covered, for many a league,\nwith a dense and thriving population. More than twenty tribes were\nclustered there into one powerful fraternity, capable of bringing two\nthousand warriors into the field. Their grounds were extensively\ncultivated, their forests abounded with the choicest game, and their\nrivers with fish, and they regarded themselves as the most prosperous of\nthe nations.\n\nNothing could exceed the romantic beauty and loveliness of some of their\nvillages. Stretching along the banks of the rivers, and embowered deeply\nin the luxurious forests of that favored clime, the numerous wigwams,\nsimple enough in their construction, but adorned here and there with the\ntrophies of war or the chase, and often alive with the athletic sports\nof the young Indians, formed a scene as animated and picturesque as ever\nglowed on the bosom of the earth--a scene of patriarchal life, such as\ncannot now be found among all the families of men.\n\nConspicuous among them all was the wigwam of Ash-te-o-lah. The hand of\nMinaree was visible in the tasteful arrangement of a few simple\nornaments about the door, and the trailing of a white flowering vine\nover its walls, which fell in luxuriant festoons, or floated in feathery\npensiles on every side.\n\nMinaree stood in the door of the wigwam, watching the retreating form of\nher lord, as his light canoe swept down with the current of the river,\ntill it was lost in the distance, and then pensively, and as if\nunconsciously to herself, resumed her solemn chant, weaving the while a\nwreath of her wild flowering vine.\n\n    He has gone to the chase, my brave hunter has gone--\n    He will not return in the moonlight, or morn;\n    Minaree shall look out at the cabin door,\n    But her bold brave hunter shall come no more;\n    There's a cloud in her wigwam--a fire in her brain,\n    For her warrior hunter shall ne'er come again.\n\nGently and placidly flowed the Katahba--every tree and shrub mirrored in\nits beautiful waters. Not a sound disturbed the perfect stillness; not\neven the hum of the cricket, or the song of the bird. It seemed an utter\nsolitude. Then a light canoe was seen slowly gliding down the stream. A\nnoble looking Indian was standing in it, erect and tall, with his paddle\npoised, as if wrapped in meditation, or unwilling to disturb the quiet\nand charm of the silence. It was a scene to awaken a sense of poetic\nbeauty, even in the mind of an untutored savage. It thrilled the soul of\nAsh-te-o-lah, and held him some moments in admiring contemplation.\nSuddenly starting from his unwonted reverie, he rounded a jutting\npromontory, and moored his skiff, carefully concealing it amid the\noverhanging shrubs.\n\nThere was something surpassingly graceful and majestic in the figure of\nthis noble son of the forest. Formed by nature in her most perfect\nmould, tall, sinewy, athletic, yet with every feature and every limb\nrounded to absolute grace, he was a fine subject for a painter or\nsculptor. His dress consisted of a beautiful robe, gracefully flung over\none shoulder, and confined at the waist by a richly ornamented belt. His\nhair was wrought into a kind of crown, and ornamented with a tuft of\nfeathers. Equipped with bow and quiver, he seemed intent on game; and\nyet one might have imagined, from his keen glance and cautious manner,\nthat he expected a foe in ambush.\n\nAsh-te-o-lah was soon on the track of the deer, which, starting from the\nthicket, bounded away with the speed of the wind. Pursuing with equal\npace, the bold hunter dashed into the depths of the forest, watching for\na favorable moment to take the deadly aim. The arrow was on the string,\nand about to be raised to fly at his panting victim, when the shrill\nwar-whoop burst suddenly on his ear. It arrested his step, for a moment,\nbut not his arm; for the arrow sped as if nothing had occurred to divert\nits course, and buried itself in the heart of the flying deer.\n\nPerceiving, at a glance, that a party of the Senecas, the old and deadly\nenemies of the Katahbas, were down upon him, and had cut off his retreat\nto the river, he held on his course, as before, but with redoubled\nspeed, intending, if possible, to secure a refuge from his pursuers, in\na cavern about five miles distant. Fleet as the wind, he would have\ngained his purpose, if the course had been direct, for there was not a\nred man in the wide forests of America, who could outrun Ash-te-o-lah.\nDividing themselves into several parties, and taking different courses\nto intercept his flight, his enemies gave instant chase to the fugitive.\nOne party followed close on his trail, but he was soon lost to their\nview. Another struck off northwardly, towards a bend in the West Branch,\nwhere the rapids afforded an opportunity for crossing the stream without\nimpeding his flight. A third made for a deep cut, or ravine, about a\nmile further down, where a fallen tree, extending from bank to bank,\nserved the purpose of a bridge.\n\nAsh-te-o-lah soon perceived that his enemies were divided, and resolved\nthat, if they _did_ intercept or overtake him, it should cost them dear.\nHalting a little in his flight, and taking to the covert of a tree, he\ndrew upon the foremost of his pursuers, and laid him dead in the path.\nThe next in the pursuit, pausing a moment over his fallen brother,\nshared the same fate. Knowing, as by instinct, that the other parties\nwould endeavor to cut him off at the rapids and the bridge, he dashed\nforward, in a straight line for the stream, plunged into the water, and\nholding his bow aloft, struggled with a powerful arm to reach the other\nside. He gained the bank, just as his pursuers made their appearance on\nthe opposite shore. Turning suddenly upon them, he levelled another\nshaft with such unerring aim, that one of their number fell bleeding\ninto the stream. Another and another, in the act of leaping over the\nbank, received the fatal shaft into his heart. Hearing the distant\nwhoop, which indicated that the other party had reached the bridge,\nAsh-te-o-lah waited not for another victim, but bounded away for his\nmountain fastness. The little delay which had been necessary to cut off\nfive of his pursuers, had given an advantage to the other parties, who\nwere now on the same side of the stream with himself, and gaining upon\nhis steps. No sooner was this perceived, than the heroic fugitive turned\nupon the nearest of them, and, with the same infallible aim, laid him\ndead in the path. Still another had fallen before his sure aim, and his\nbow was strained for another shot, when one of the other party, who had\nmade a circuit, and come up behind him unperceived, leaped upon, and\nheld him pinioned in his powerful grasp. His struggles were terrible;\nbut he was immediately surrounded, overpowered and disarmed.\n\nThough seven of their number had fallen in this brief chase, the brave\nSenecas were so struck with admiration at the wonderful skill and noble\nbearing of their captive, that they did not, as usual, instantly avenge\nthe slain, by taking the life of the slayer; but resolved to take him\nalong with them, and to lead him in triumph into the midst of the\ncouncil of their nation, there to be disposed of by the united voices of\ntheir chiefs.\n\nIt was a sad triumph, for they were filled with grief and mortification\nfor the loss of so many of their brave kindred, all fallen by the hand\nof one of the hated Katahbas, and he now completely in their power.\nThough stung with shame, and thirsting for a worthy revenge, yet such\nwas their love of martial virtue, that, during all their long journey\nhomeward, they treated their haughty captive with far greater respect\nand kindness than if he had acted the part of a coward, and suffered\nhimself to fall into their hands without any attempt at resistance. As\nfor him, with an unsubdued spirit, and an air of proud superiority, he\nmarched in the midst of his enemies, as if defying their power, and\nscorning the vengeance from which it was impossible to escape. To one\nunaccustomed to the modes of Indian warfare, and the code of Indian\netiquette, who might have witnessed that triumphant procession,\nAsh-te-o-lah would have appeared the proud and absolute prince,\nsurrounded by his admiring and subservient life-guard, rather than the\nsubdued and helpless captive, escorted by his enemies to an ignominious\nexecution.\n\nArrived within the territories of their own tribe, the triumph of the\ncaptors began. The whole nation was roused to revenge the death of their\nlost heroes. In every village, as they passed along, the women and\nchildren were permitted to beat and insult the unresisting captive, who\nbore every indignity with stoical indifference, and proud disdain, never\nindicating by word or look, the slightest sense of mortification or\npain, nor bating one jot of his lofty and scornful bearing.\n\nBefore the great council of assembled chiefs, he maintained the same\ntone of fearless dignity and self-respect. His very look was defiance,\nthat quailed not before the proudest glance of his enemy, nor showed the\nslightest symptom of disquietude, when the decision of the council was\nannounced, condemning him to die by the fiery torture. It might\nreasonably be imagined that his past sufferings, his tedious marches,\nhis scanty fare, lying at night on the bare ground, exposed to the\nchanges of the weather, with his arms and legs extended and cramped in a\npair of rough stocks, the insulting treatment, and cruel scourgings of\nthe exasperated women and children, who were taught to consider it a\nvirtue to torment an enemy, along with the anticipation of those more\nbitter sufferings which he was yet to endure, would have impaired his\nhealth, and subdued his hitherto proud and unyielding spirit. Such would\nhave been the effect of similar circumstances upon the physical frame,\nand stout-hearted fortitude of the great majority of the heroes of that\npale-faced race, who boast of a proud superiority over the unlettered\nchildren of the forest. There are few so hardy, that they could endure,\nnot only without a murmur, but without shrinking, what Ash-te-o-lah had\nalready suffered--few so courageous, that they could hear, with an\nunmoved countenance, the terrible doom which his enemies had prepared\nfor him, or witness undisturbed the fearful arrangements, and horrid\nceremonies, that were designed to give intensity and effect to its\ninfliction.\n\nAsh-te-o-lah was insensible to fear, and would sooner have undergone a\nthousand torturing deaths, than permit his enemies to see that he was\nconscious even of suffering. So nobly did he sustain his courage amid\nthe trial, so well did he act his heroic part, that his enemies, who\nadmired and inculcated the same unflinching fortitude, were surprised\nand vexed at his lofty superiority, and resolved, by every possible\naggravation of his sufferings, to break down and subdue his proud\nindomitable spirit.\n\nThe hour of execution had arrived. The pile was ready for its victim.\nEvery engine of torture, which savage ingenuity could invent, was\nexhibited in dreadful array, within the area selected for the trying\nscene. The whole nation was assembled to witness, and take part in the\nceremony, which had, in their view, all the solemnity and sacredness of\na religious rite. Ash-te-o-lah was led forth, unpinioned, into the\nmidst--for the red man would scorn the weakness of leading a victim in\nchains to the altar.\n\nThe place of sacrifice was an open space near the bank of the river, the\ndark forest frowning over it on every side, the entire foreground being\nfilled and crowded with an eager, angry multitude, to whom a sacrifice\nwas a feast, and revenge the sweetest luxury that could be offered to\ntheir taste. Their wild parade, their savage dances, their hideous yells\nand demoniacal looks and gestures, designed to terrify, only fired the\nsoul of Ash-te-o-lah to a yet prouder and more majestic bearing. His\nfirm step, his unblenching eye, his fearless and lofty port, touched\neven his executioners with admiration, and struck his guards with a\nmomentary awe.\n\nSuddenly, as with a bolt from the cloud, he dashed down those who stood\nin his way, sprung out, and plunged into the water, swimming underneath,\nlike an otter, only rising occasionally to take breath, till he reached\nthe opposite shore. He ascended the steep bank at a bound; and then,\nthough the arrows had been flying thick as hail about him from the time\nthat he took to the water, and though many of the fleetest of his\nenemies were, like very blood-hounds, close in pursuit of him, he turned\ndeliberately around, and with a graceful and becoming dignity, took a\nformal leave of them, as if he would acknowledge the extraordinary\nfavors they had shown him. Then, raising the shrill war-whoop of\ndefiance, as his last salute, till some more convenient opportunity\nshould be afforded him to do them a warrior's homage, he darted off,\nlike a beast broke loose from its torturing enemies. Inspired with new\nstrength by his sudden release, and the returning hope of life, he flew\nwith a winged speed, so as entirely to distance the fleetest of his\neager pursuers. Confident in his speed, and assured that his enemies\ncould neither overtake nor surprise him, he rested nearly a whole day,\nto recruit his wasted strength, and watch an opportunity to gain, if\npossible, some further advantage over those who were scenting his track,\nand thirsting for his blood.\n\nPassing a considerable distance beyond a spot, which his well-trained\nsagacity told him would be the natural resting place of his pursuers, he\nretraced his steps, walking carefully backwards, and planting each step\nwith great precision, in the very tracks he had just made, so as\neffectually to conceal the artifice of his return. In this way, he came\nto a high rock, in which there was a considerable fissure, very narrow\nat the top, but widening toward the ground, and so concealed by the\ndense shrubbery that grew around, that it could only be discovered by\nthe most careful scrutiny. Into this fissure he thrust himself,\nscrupulously replacing every leaf that had been disturbed by his\nentrance, and adjusting the whole so as not to excite the slightest\nsuspicion in his keen-sighted enemies. Here he awaited their approach.\n\nIt was near night of the second day, when the Senecas reached the spring\nwhere Ash-te-o-lah lay concealed, and where he had already rested nearly\na whole day. Following his track some distance beyond, and not doubting\nhe was yet in advance, they returned without suspicion to the spring,\nlighted their fires, partook hastily of their simple meal, and laid\nthemselves down to sleep, in perfect security. They were five in number,\npowerful men, and thoroughly armed, after their own peculiar fashion.\nAsh-te-o-lah, from his narrow cavern, had watched all their movements.\nHe well knew that they slept soundly, for they had satisfied themselves\nthat no danger was near. But he also knew equally well how wakeful is\nthe sleep of an Indian, and how almost impossible it is to surprise him,\neven in his soundest sleep. Every circumstance of his situation occurred\nto him, to inspire him with heroism, and urge him to attempt an\nimpossibility, though his life was the certain forfeit of a failure. He\nwas naked, torn, and hungry. His enraged enemies, who had so recently\nheld him in their toils, and made him ready for a sacrifice, were now\ncome up with him. In their little camp was every thing to relieve his\nwants. He would not only save his own life, but get great honor and\nsweet revenge, if he should succeed in cutting them off.\n\nResolution, a convenient spot, and a sudden surprise, might effect this\nmain object of all his wishes and hopes. Creeping cautiously out from\nhis covert, and approaching the sleepers with the noiseless and stealthy\ncunning of a fox, he seized one of their tomahawks, and wielding it with\ninconceivable power and rapidity, left four of them in an eternal sleep,\nbefore the fifth had time to awake and spring to his feet. The struggle\nthat ensued was terrible; but Ash-te-o-lah had the advantage in every\nrespect, and the conflict ended in a very few minutes, by leaving him\nalone in the camp of his enemies.\n\nSelecting from the spoils of the fallen a suitable dress for himself,\nwith the choicest of their bows, a well-stored quiver, a tomahawk, and\nan ample pouch of provisions, and securing to his belt the scalps of his\nyet breathing victims, Ash-te-o-lah set off afresh, with a light heart,\nand a bounding step, for the sunny vales of the Katahba. Resolved not to\nhazard any of the advantage he had gained, he did not allow himself any\nsleep, for several successive nights, only as he reclined, for a few\nmoments, a little before day, with his back to a tree, and a clear space\nabout him, where he could not be taken by surprise. Growing more secure,\nas he approached his home, and discovered no sign of his pursuing enemy,\nhe sought out the spot where he had killed seven of the chase, in the\nfirst day of his flight, opened their yet fresh graves, added their\nscalps to the five then hanging to his belt, burnt their bodies to\nashes, and returned in safety, laden with his hard earned trophies, to\ngladden his humble wigwam, and thrill the council of his people with the\nstory of his singular adventures.\n\nHer prophetic dream had made so deep an impression upon the mind of\nMinaree, that, from the first, she did not expect \"the bold hunter's\nreturn.\" His lengthened absence troubled, but did not surprise her. She\nyielded him to a stern fate, from which there was no escape; and with a\ncalmness which we, of another race, too often regard as coldness and\ninsensibility, prepared to follow him to the spirit land. His return was\nto her soul like a visit from that land--a gift from the Great\nSpirit--and ever after, to the deep devotion of her early love, was\nadded that peculiar reverence, that tender, holy affection, which the\nIndians every where cherish for the departed.\n\nWhen the second party of the Senecas, in the course of the third day of\nthe pursuit, arrived at the camp of their slaughtered people, the sight\ngave them a greater shock than they had ever known before. In their\nchilled war council they concluded, that he who had performed such\nsurprising feats in his defence, before he was captured, and since that\nin his naked and unarmed condition, would, now that he was well armed\nand free, be a match for them all, if they should continue the pursuit.\nThey regarded him as a wizard enemy, whose charmed life it was vain and\nwicked to attempt. They, accordingly, buried their comrades, and\nreturned, with heavy hearts, to their homes.\n\n\n\n\nMONICA,\n\nOR\n\nTHE ITEAN CAPTIVE.\n\n\n    What glorious hopes, what gloomy fears\n      Have sunk beneath time's noiseless tide!--\n    The red man at his horrid rite,\n      Seen by the stars at night's cold noon,--\n    His bark canoe, its track of light\n      Left on the wave beneath the moon;--\n    His dance, his yell, his council fire,\n      The altar where his victim lay,\n    His death song, and his funeral pyre,\n      That still, strong tide hath borne away.\n\n\n\n\nMONICA.\n\n                   ~\"Speak not, but fly--\n    There are a thousand winged deaths behind,\n    Thirsting for blood. Hope, life, and liberty\n    Are all before; and this good arm is pledged\n    To guide thee.\"~\n\n\nThe grave of the Indian is a temple, a sort of gateway to heaven. Around\nit linger the tenderest affection, the purest devotion of the surviving\nfriend. The grass and flowers that grow over it are never suffered to\nwither. The snow and the rain are not permitted to remain upon it. The\nleast profanation of that sacred place would be visited with a more\nterrible vengeance than an affront to the living. Nothing illustrates\nmore clearly the cruel injustice we have done to our red brethren of the\nforest, by regarding and treating them only as savages, and delineating\nthem always and every where, as destitute of all the refined sympathies\nof humanity--than this prevailing national characteristic, an\naffectionate reverence for the dead, and a religious regard for the\nsepulchres and bones of their ancestors. It touches one of the deepest\ncords in the human heart. It springs from the very fountain head of\nsocial and moral refinement. It links the visible and material, with the\nunseen and spiritual world; blending all that is tender, and pure, and\nsubduing, in the one, with all that is bright, hopeful, and inviting, in\nthe other. Its existence in any heart, or its prevalence among any\npeople, is proof sufficient that that heart is not wholly hardened in\nselfishness, and that people not wholly given over to barbarism.\n\nThe infant child of an Itean mother lay dead in her tent. He was a\nbeautiful boy, and already the fond mother had read in his brilliant\neye, and the vigorous movements of his tiny limbs, the heroic deeds of\nthe future chieftain. But her darling hope was nipped in the very germ.\nHer only son was shrouded for the grave, and the hour of burial had\ncome. His shroud was a blanket, in which the head, as well as the body,\nwas completely enveloped. His bier was a train, or Indian sled, in the\nform of a common snow-shoe, on which the body was laid, without a\ncoffin, and secured by bandages from side to side. Into this train was\nharnessed a favorite dog of the family, when it was drawn with slow and\nsolemn step, to the grave, preceded by the priest or medicine man of the\nvillage, in his gorgeous robes of office, and followed by the parents\nand sister of the child, with all the inmates of the neighboring\nwigwams.\n\nArriving at the grave, the procession stopped, and gathered round the\nbier, the women and children seating or prostrating themselves on the\nground, the men standing in a grave and solemn circle around them. The\ndog, still remaining in his harness, was then shot, and the medicine\nman, standing over it, addressed it in the following strain, \"Go on your\njourney to the Spirit land. Long and weary is the way you have to go.\nLinger not on the journey, for precious is the burden you carry. Swim\nswiftly over the river, lest the little one be lost in the stream, and\nnever visit the camp of its fathers. When you come to the camp of the\nWhite-headed Eagle, bark, that they may know who it is you bring, and\ncome out and welcome the little one among its kindred band.\"\n\nThe body was then laid in the grave, on its little train. The dog was\nplaced by its side, with a kettle of food at its head, to supply it on\nthe journey. A cup, containing a portion of the mother's milk, freshly\ndrawn, was also put into the grave for the use of the child. The earth\nwas laid gently over it, and covered with the fresh sod, the mother, and\nher female friends, chanting, the while, a plaintive dirge, designed to\nencourage the spirit of the departed on its dark and perilous journey.\nThe mother held in her hand a roll of bark, elaborately decorated with\nfeathers and bead-work, encompassed with a scarf of broadcloth, highly\nembroidered. This was intended as a memento of the deceased, to be\nsacredly preserved in the family lodge. Such mementoes are always seen\nthere, after the death of a friend, and one may always know, by their\nnumber, how many of that household have gone to the spirit-land. It is\nusually placed upright in the spot where the departed was accustomed to\nsit, dressed in the same ornaments and bands that he wore while living.\nAt every family meal, a portion of food is set before it. If it be a\nchild who has died, the mother offers it a cup of milk, wraps it in the\ncradle bands of her lost infant, and bears it about with her wherever\nshe goes.\n\nAn Indian grave is a protected spot. That which is described above, was\nsurrounded by a small enclosure of logs, and covered with a roof of\nbark, to shield it from the rain. At its head, a small round post was\nset, painted with vermilion. Other decorations were displayed upon the\nwall of the enclosure, which were carefully guarded, and frequently\nreplaced, as they were soiled by the rains, or torn and defaced by the\nviolence of the winds. Day after day, the bereaved mother and sister\nvisited that grave, taking their work with them, and sitting down by its\nside, chanted their plaintive lullaby to that sleeping infant, and\ncheered on that faithful dog in his wearisome journey, charging him not\nto lag or go astray in traversing the plain, nor suffer his precious\nburden to fall into the water, in crossing the deep dark rapid river to\nthe spirit land.\n\nWeeks and months had passed since that humble grave was made, and that\nprecious treasure confided to its bosom. It was a calm glorious evening\nin mid-summer. The moon shone brightly on the Itean encampment. There\nwas not, in the whole valley of the west, a more beautiful spot for a\nsettlement. The smooth open green-sward was closely surrounded with\ntrees on three sides. On the other, the land gradually sloped towards\nthe river, which flowed quietly by, ever and anon sparkling in the\nmoonbeams, or reflecting the dark forest and flowery banks in its azure\ndepths.\n\nThe wigwams in the opening were all closed. Their inmates were at rest.\nPresently, the buffalo-skin, that served as a door to the principal\ncabin, was drawn aside, and the beautiful daughter of the chief emerged\ninto the light, and passed swiftly on to the river. Following its\ncourse a short distance, by the narrow path that threaded the woods on\nits bank, she came to the little grave, threw herself on the earth by\nits side, and wept. It was Monica, the sister of that buried infant, the\nsame whom we saw at his grave when it was first opened, and who had\ndaily, since that time, sung over it her simple song.\n\nThe grief and disappointment of the mother, in the loss of her only son,\nwas not more deep or sincere, or enduring, than that of this\naffectionate and devoted sister. From the moment of his birth, he was\nthe idol of her soul. She looked forward to the time, in her ardent\nimagination very near at hand, when, emulating the virtues and deeds of\nhis father, he should become the noblest chief of his tribe. She had\npictured to herself the many wonderful exploits he should achieve, and\nthe love and veneration with which he would be regarded throughout the\nnation. But now, those hopes were blasted, those visions had all faded\ninto darkness. Time had not soothed her disappointment, or softened the\npoignancy of her grief. Waking or sleeping, the image of her lost\nbrother was before her. She longed to follow him, that she might\novertake him on the way, and help him in his passage over that fearful\nstream.\n\nShe had laid down that night, as usual, and slept by the side of her\nmother. Her dreams were troubled. She thought that arid plain and dark\nriver were before her. The faithful dog was struggling with the waves.\nThe little ark which held that precious treasure, was buffeted about by\nthe winds. Chilled with the cold, and terrified by the dark howling\nstorm, the lone child sobbed bitterly, and looked imploringly round for\nhis mother. In her distress and agitation, she awoke. Unable to sleep,\nor even to rest, she rose, and ran to the grave.\n\n    \"I come, I come, my precious one,\n      I am ever by your side--\n    Fear not, your voyage is almost done\n      Over that dismal tide;\n    The winds shall hush, the storm pass o'er,\n      And a friendly band shall come\n    To meet you on the spirit shore,\n      And bid you welcome home.\n    Fear not, for love that never sleeps\n      Shall guard you o'er that wave;\n    And mother her constant vigil keep\n      Beside your quiet grave.\"\n\nHaving chanted her simple lay of love, Monica turned from the grave,\nstepped into a canoe, and paddled down the stream. Overcome with grief,\nshe dropped her paddle, sat pensively down in her shallop, and left it\nto follow its course down the current. For several hours it glided\nsilently on. She gave no heed to the hours, till morning broke in the\neast. Suddenly starting up from her long dream, she looked for her\npaddle. It was gone. Seeing a bough floating on the water near her, she\nleaned out to catch it, as the canoe passed on. It was decayed, and\nbroke in her hand. Throwing it from her, she looked eagerly about for\nsome other means of reaching the shore. At length, passing under the\nshadow of an immense tree, that overhung the stream, she seized a branch\nthat almost dipped into the water, and drawing herself in to the bank,\nsprang on shore.\n\nSlowly and doubtfully the timid girl threaded the thick forest,\nscarcely knowing which way to turn. Hoping to find some friendly wigwam\nnear, she sounded the shrill call of her tribe. The call was instantly\nanswered, but not by a friendly voice. Two stern and stalwart warriors\nof the Pawnee tribe, who were deadly enemies to the Iteans, chanced to\nbe passing that way, and, recognizing the call as that of an enemy,\nsprang from the thicket, seized the trembling maiden, and bore her away\nin triumph. Many a weary league she travelled on by the side of her\nmerciless captors, ere she reached their distant encampment. Worn,\nexhausted in strength and desponding in heart, she fell to the earth in\nthe midst of the throng that gathered around her, and besought them to\nkill her at once, and let her go to her poor infant brother.\n\nThe Pawnees were not only hostile to the Iteans, but were, in some\nrespects, the most savage tribe in the great valley. They alone, of the\nNorth American Indians, continued, down the present century, and far\nwithin it, to practice the savage rite of sacrificing human victims on\nthe altar of their gods. With them it was a propitiatory sacrifice,\noffered to the _Great Star_, or the planet Venus. This dreadful ceremony\nannually preceded the preparations for planting corn, and was supposed\nto be necessary to secure a fruitful season. The victim was always some\nprisoner, who had been captured in war, or otherwise; and there was\nnever wanting an individual who coveted the honor of making a captive\nfrom some hostile tribe, and dedicating the spoils of his prowess to the\nnational benefit.\n\nThe captors of Monica were in quest of a victim for this sacrifice, when\nthey wandered away alone, and prowled for several days, about the\nencampment of her tribe. With this view, they bore her away in triumph,\ndeaf to all her entreaties and tears, and gave her in charge to the\npriests, to be made ready against the return of the season.\n\nThe best wigwam in the village was assigned for her accommodation.\nCheerful companions of her own age were given her. The most sedulous\nattention was paid to her wants. She was dressed in gay apparel,\ncontinually feasted on the choicest luxuries which their fields and\nhunting grounds afforded, and treated with the utmost tenderness by all\nabout her. Every possible means was employed to allay her grief, and\npromote that cheerfulness of spirit, which is essential to health and\ncomeliness, in order that she might thus be made a more suitable and\nacceptable offering.\n\nThe personal charms of Monica required no such system of treatment, in\norder to their full development. She was a rare specimen of native grace\nand loveliness, and would have been a fitting model, in every feature\nand limb, for a Phidias or a Praxitiles. The exceeding beauty and\ngentleness of their captive, while it won the admiration and regard of\nall her young companions, only made her, in the view of the priests and\nchiefs of the tribe, a more desirable victim for the altar.\n\nFor a long time, Monica was inconsolable. Deprived of that dearest\nprivilege of visiting daily the grave of her brother, distracted in view\nof the anxiety which her mother would feel for her, she refused to be\ncomforted, or to take any pleasure in the means employed to amuse her.\nTime and kindness, however, and the promise that she should, by and by,\nreturn to her father-land, restored, in a degree, her serenity of mind.\nShe was too affectionate and confiding, to reject the sympathy and\nkindness even of an enemy. Grateful for the unwearied efforts which her\ncompanions made to amuse and comfort her, she came, at last, to regard\nthem as friends. Gratitude begat affection. Affection created\nconfidence. She unburdened her heart of the sorrows that oppressed it.\nBy that effort, the burden was lightened. Something of the elasticity\nand vivacity of youth returned. She sang and played, if not to amuse\nherself, yet to gratify others, whose assiduous kindness, and seemingly\ngenerous sympathy, she had no other means of repaying. Thus, entirely\nignorant of the terrible doom that awaited her, Monica passed the winter\nof her captivity, looking ever forward to the opening spring as the\nperiod of her promised release, and return to the wigwam of her mother.\n\nAt length the fatal day arrived, and every thing was ready for the\nsacrifice. The whole Pawnee tribe was assembled to witness and take part\nin the solemnities. From every side, they were seen emerging from the\nthick forest, or gliding noiselessly over the bosom of the silver\nstream, leaping from cliff to cliff of the distant hills, or winding\ndown their steep passes and narrow defiles, to meet in the great central\nvillage, around the grand council fire of the nation. The whole tribe\nwas there--the chiefs in all their gaudy array of bead-work, feathers,\nand paint, their embroidered moccasins, their gaily wrought tunics and\nbelts, their polished rifles, and glittering tomahawks--the women and\nchildren, and the rank and file of the people, in all the finery and\ngewgaws they could command. It was a brave sight to those accustomed to\nthe barbaric finery and wild sports of the Indian, but fearful and\nhideous to one unused to the rude painted visages and half naked forms\nof the warriors.\n\nThe awful hour of those dreadful orgies was announced by all those\ndiscordant shouts and hideous yells, which, with those primitive races,\nserve the purpose of trumpet, drum and bell. The stake was set, and the\nfaggots made ready, in the centre of the great opening. The priests\nstood at their post, and the vast multitude of eager excited witnesses\nthronged around, waiting in terrible expectation for the consummation of\nthat horrid rite, and kindling into phrenzy in view of the mad revelry\nthat would follow. Presently, the outer ranks of that crowding circle\nmade way, and opened a passage to the ring within. Through this living\navenue, a company of chiefs marched in, singing, or rather shouting, a\nwild song, and dancing in fantastic measures. At their head was the\ncaptor of Monica, leading the timid girl by the hand. She was arrayed in\nthe most showy and expensive style of Indian costume, the various\ndecorations of her person comprising all that was beautiful and rare in\nornament, according to the uncultivated taste of that people.\nUnconscious still of the doom that awaited her, and hoping, perhaps,\nthat this was to be the festival of her freedom, when she would be sent\naway in peace to her home, she entered the circle with a cheerful face,\nand an elastic step, smiling on her young companions as she passed, and\nwondering at the cold look, or sometimes averted eye, with which her\nsalutation was answered.\n\nIt was not until she was led quite up to the stake, and saw the fearful\nfaggots piled around it, that she comprehended the meaning of these\nmysterious preparations. Her awful doom flashed upon her, like a bolt\nfrom heaven. With one loud, piercing, heart-rending shriek, she fell to\nthe earth, and called upon her mother. She was lifted up by the stern\npriest, placed upon the pile, and bound to the stake. With wild\nincantations, and horrid yells, the dread orgies were commenced. The\ntorch was lighted, and ready to be applied. At that instant, a shrill\nwhoop burst from the adjoining wood. A brave young warrior, leaping into\nthe midst of the circle, rushed to the stake, cut the cords that bound\nthe helpless victim, tore her away from the pile, and, dashing back\nthrough the panic-struck crowd, flung her upon a fleet horse which he\nhad prepared for the occasion, sprung himself upon another, and was soon\nlost in the distant windings of the wood.\n\nIt was the act of a moment. Even the Indian warriors, who are not easily\nsurprised, or put off their guard, were confounded and paralysed. Before\nthey could comprehend the object of this sudden phantom, this rash\ninterruption of their festival, their victim was gone. The bare stake,\nand the useless heap of faggots were there. The proud chief, who\nfurnished the victim, and the fierce-looking priests, who were to\nofficiate in the dark rites of the sacrifice, stood in blank\nastonishment around, as if a bolt from the cloud had smitten them. A\nmomentary silence prevailed among that mighty throng. A low murmur\nsucceeded, like the distant moans of a coming storm: then, like the\ntempest, bursting in all its wrath, fierce cries of vengeance from a\nthousand flaming tongues, furious discordant yells and shouts,\naccompanied with frantic gestures, and looks of rage, such as would\ndistort the visage of a fiend. Some of the fleetest started off in hot\nbut vain pursuit. Those who remained, promised themselves a day of\nterrible retribution. The mothers secretly rejoiced in the escape; while\nthose of the young girls who had been the chosen companions of the\ncaptive, gave vent to their joy and gratitude in wild songs and dances.\n\nIn this manner, that turbulent assembly broke up. Without the usual\nfeast and its accompanying games, they scattered to their several homes,\ncoolly meditating revenge, and darkly foreboding the famine that should\nensue from the absence of the accustomed sacrifice.\n\nMeanwhile, the fugitives held on their way, with the speed of the wind.\nNot a word was spoken. It was a race of life and death, and every\nfaculty of the rescuer as well as of the rescued was absorbed in the one\nidea and effort to escape. Over hill and plain, and shallow stream,\nthose foaming steeds flew on, pausing not even to snuff the breeze, till\nthey had cleared the territory of the Pawnees, and reached a sheltered\nnook within the precincts of a neutral tribe. Here, as among all the\nIndian tribes the woman is considered competent to take care of herself\nin all ordinary emergencies, her deliverer left her, giving her ample\ndirections for the way, and cautioning her to use the utmost diligence\nto avoid pursuit.\n\n\"But, tell me first,\" she cried, tears of grateful joy standing in her\neyes, \"tell me to whom I am indebted for this miraculous escape--that,\nin all my prayers to the Great Spirit, I may call down his blessing upon\nyour head.\"\n\n\"I am Petalesharro,\" replied the youth, modestly. \"My father is\nLatalashaw, the chief of my tribe. We do not believe, with our people,\nthat the Great Spirit delights in the sacrifice. He loves all his red\nchildren, and they should all love one another.\"\n\n\"But, will not your chiefs revenge upon your head this interference with\ntheir solemn rites? If any national calamities follow, will they not\ncharge them all to your account? I could not bear that my generous\ndeliverer should be struck down by those terrible hands, in the prime of\nhis youth, as the reward of his heroic benevolence. Better that I should\nreturn and submit to the fate they had prepared for me.\"\n\n\"Fear not for me, Monica. Petalesharro fears not to meet the assembled\ncouncil of his nation. Not a brave among them all will raise a hand to\nhurt him. He will make them know that the Great Star needs not the blood\nof the captive. And never again shall the fires be kindled for that\ncruel sacrifice.\"\n\nEncouraged by the words of the young chief, Monica turned, with a strong\nheart, towards her home, still some four hundred miles distant. The same\nkind providence which had rescued her from the devouring flames, still\nguided and guarded her solitary way, and gave her strength and spirits\nfor her toilsome journey.\n\nOn the second day of her pilgrimage, as she climbed the summit of a\nrange of hills that ran athwart her path, she was alarmed by the\nappearance of a considerable body of armed men, just emerging from a\ndistant ravine of the same range, in a direction that would lead them\nimmediately across her path. They were too far off to enable her to\ndiscern, by their dress and accoutrements, to what tribe they belonged.\nShe supposed they must be Pawnees in pursuit of their lost captive. If\nshe attempted to pass on before them, they would discover her track, and\nsoon overtake her flight. She had nothing to do, therefore, but wait\ntill they had passed, in the hope of eluding their eager scent.\nConcealing herself in the thicket, in a position that overlooked the\nvalley, she awaited with composure the coming of that fearful band. They\ndescended into the valley, and, to the utter consternation of Monica,\nbegan to pitch their tents under the shade of a spreading oak, on the\nbank of a little stream. She watched the movement with an anxious heart,\nnot knowing how she should escape, with a pursuing enemy so near. Her\nconsternation and anxiety were soon, however, changed to joy, when one\nof the company, approaching the vicinity of her hiding place, to cut a\npole for his tent, was recognized as a chief of her own tribe. Springing\nfrom the thicket with a scream of delight, which startled the whole\nencampment, and brought every brave to his feet, with his hand on the\ntrigger of his rifle, she rushed into the midst of her astonished\npeople, and was received with silent joy, as one restored from the dead.\nUnder their protection, the remainder of her journey was safely and\neasily performed. Before the moon, which was then crescent, had reached\nher full, Monica had embraced her mother, and added a fresh flower to\nthe grave of her brother.\n\nThe brave, the generous, the chivalrous Petalesharro returned to his\nfather's tent with the fearless port and composed dignity of one whose\nconsciousness of rectitude placed him above fear. He was a young man,\njust entered upon manhood, and a general favorite of his tribe.[E] His\ncountenance, as represented in Col. McKenney's magnificent work upon the\nNorth American tribes, is one of uncommon beauty of feature. In its\nmildness of expression, it is almost effeminate. But in heart and soul\nhe was a man and a hero. His courage, and the power of his arm, were\nacknowledged by friend and foe; and on the death of his father, he was\nraised to the chieftaincy of his tribe. The season which followed his\nnoble act of humane, may we not say religious chivalry, was one of\nuncommon fertility, health and prosperity. \"_The Great Star_\" had not\ndemanded the victim. And the Pawnees never again polluted their altars\nwith the blood of a human sacrifice.\n\n   [E] Major Long, in his \"Expeditions to the Rocky Mountains,\"\n   thus describes Petalesharro, as he appeared in his native\n   wilds, and among his own people, in the full costume which he\n   wore on the occasion of some great festival of his tribe.\n\n   \"Almost from the beginning of this interesting fete, our\n   attention had been attracted to a young man, who seemed to be\n   the leader or partisan of the warriors. He was about\n   twenty-three years of age, of the finest form, tall, muscular,\n   exceedingly graceful, and of a most prepossessing countenance.\n   His head-dress, of war-eagles' feathers, descended in a double\n   series upon his back, like wings, down to his saddle-croup; his\n   shield was highly decorated, and his long lance by a plaited\n   casing of red and blue cloth. On enquiring of the interpreter,\n   our admiration was augmented by learning that he was no other\n   than Petalesharro, with whose name and character we were\n   already familiar. He is the most intrepid warrior of the\n   nation, the eldest son of Letalashaw, and destined, as well by\n   mental and physical qualifications, as by his distinguished\n   birth, to be the future leader of his people.\"\n\n   Petalesharro visited Washington in 1821, where his fine figure\n   and countenance, and his splendid costume attracted every eye.\n   But there was that in his history and character, which had gone\n   before him, that secured for him a worthier homage than that of\n   the eye. His act of generous chivalry to the Itean captive was\n   the theme of every tongue. The ladies of the city caused an\n   appropriate medal to be prepared, commemorating the noble deed,\n   and presented it to him, in the presence of a large assemblage\n   of people, who took a lively interest in the ceremony. In reply\n   to their complimentary address, the brave young warrior\n   modestly said--\"My heart is glad. The white woman has heard\n   what I did for the captive maid, and they love me, and speak\n   well of me, for doing it. I thought but little of it before. It\n   came from my heart, as the breath from my body. I did not know\n   that any one would think better of me for that. But now I am\n   glad. For it is a good thing to be praised by those, who only\n   praise that which is good.\"\n\n\n\n\nTULA,\n\nOR\n\nTHE HERMITESS OF ATHABASCA.\n\n\n      I thought to be alone. It might not be!\n    There is no solitude in thy domains,\n      Save what man makes, when in his selfish breast,\n    He locks his joys, and bars out others' grief.\n\n\n\n\nTULA.\n\n             ~Death is not all--\n    Not half the agony we suffer here:\n    The cup of life has drugs, more bitter far,\n    That must be drained.~\n\n\nThat solitary wigwam, in the outskirts of the village, was the home of\nKaf-ne-wah-go, an aged Chippeway warrior, who had weathered the storms,\nand outlived the wars, of three score and ten seasons, and was yet as\nfiery in the chase, and as mighty and terrible in battle, as any of the\nyoung chiefs of his tribe. His voice in the council was, like the solemn\ntones of an oracle, listened to with a reverence approaching to awe, and\nnever disregarded. His sons all inherited the spirit of their father,\nand distinguished themselves among the braves in fight, and the sages in\ncouncil. Three of them fell in battle. One was principal chief of the\nwestern division of the Chippeway family. Another, the brave\nIsh-ta-le-o-wah, occupied the first in that group of wigwams in yonder\ngrove, about a hundred yards from his father's.\n\nThe only daughter of the good old sachem, the child of his old age, and\n\"the light of his eyes,\" was the fairest and loveliest wild-flower, that\never sprung up amid the interminable wildernesses of the Western World.\nTula, the singing bird, was distinguished among the daughters of the\nforest, not only for those qualities of person and character which are\nrecognized as graces among the Indians, but for some of those peculiar\nrefinements of feeling and manner, which are supposed to be the\nexclusive product of a civilized state of society. She was remarkable\nfor the depth and tenderness of her affection, and for her ingenuity,\nindustry and taste. Her dress, and those of her father and brother,\nexhibited the traces of her delicate handiwork; while the neat and\ntasteful arrangement of the humble cabin, superior in all that makes\nhome comfortable and pleasant to any in the village, bore testimony to\nher industry and skill.\n\nTula had many suitors. There was scarce a young brave in the tribe who\ndid not seek or desire her. But O-ken-ah-ga, the only son of their great\nchief, won her heart. She became his bride, but she remained, with him\nand their first-born child, in the tent of her aged parents, who could\nnot live, as they said, \"when the singing bird, the light of their eyes\nwas gone.\"\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nIt was mid-summer. The night was still, clear, and lovely. All nature\nseemed to breathe nothing but calmness and peace. But the heart of\nman--how often and how sadly is it at variance with nature! The inmates\nof that humble wigwam were all wrapped in a profound sleep, not dreaming\nof danger near. The infant, nestling in his mother's bosom, by a sudden\nstart roused her to partial consciousness. A deep groan, as of one in\nexpiring agonies, awakened all her faculties. She sprung up and called\nupon her husband--\n\n\"O-ken-ah-ga, what is the matter?\"\n\nAnother deep groan, and a stifled yell of triumph, was the only answer.\n\nStaring wildly round, what a scene of horror met her eyes! Her father,\nher mother, her husband, pierced with many wounds, and weltering in\ntheir yet warm blood, lay dead before her; while a band of fierce and\nterrible enemies, of the Athapuscow tribe, stood over them, with the\nreeking instruments of death in their hands, their eyes gleaming with\nsavage delight, and their whole faces distorted with the most fiend-like\nexpression of rage and triumph. With the true instinct of a mother, she\nclasped her infant to her breast, and bowed her head in silence, utterly\nunable to give any utterance to the bitterness of her wo. It was this\nsilence that saved her and her child from an instant participation in\nthe fate of the mangled ones around her. The first word spoken, would\nhave brought down that reeking tomahawk upon their heads. The\nAthapuscows were few in number, and their only safety consisted in doing\ntheir work of revenge with secrecy and despatch, for the Chippeways were\nmany and powerful, and to disturb the slumbers of one of them would be\nto rouse the whole tribe in a moment.\n\nThe work of death was done. The scalps of their victims hung dripping at\nthe belts of the murderers, and the spoils of the cabin were secured.\nThe spoilers turned to depart, and Tula, in obedience to their word,\nwithout complaint or remonstrance, rose and followed them. Gathering up\na few necessary articles, among which she contrived to conceal her babe,\nshe took one farewell look upon the loved ones, whom death had so\nsuddenly and fearfully claimed, and left them, and the home of her\nyouth, for ever.\n\nWith cautious stealthy steps, the murderous band plunged into the deep\nforest, threading their way through its intricate mazes, with\ninconceivable skill and sagacity, till they reached an opening, on the\nbank of the Wapatoony river, where a considerable detachment of their\ntribe was temporarily encamped. Delivering their prisoner into the hands\nof the women, the braves proceeded at once to the council of the chiefs,\nto show their trophies, and relate the incidents of their scout.\n\nWhen the Athapuscow women, in examining the contents of the poor\ncaptive's bundle, discovered the still sleeping infant, they seized him\nas they would have done a viper, and dashed him on the ground. In vain\ndid the fond mother plead for her child. In vain did the voice of\nnature, and a mother's instinct in their own bosoms, plead for the\ninnocent. It was an enemy's child, a hated Chippeway, and that was\nenough to stifle every other feeling in their hearts, and make even \"an\ninfant of days\" an object of intense and implacable hatred. With the\nIndian, the son of an enemy is an enemy, doomed only to death or\ntorture. The daughter may be spared for slavery or sacrifice.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThe morning dawned with uncommon brilliancy and beauty upon the\nChippeway village, and warriors and children were astir with the\nearliest light, some to fish in the smooth stream, that, like a silver\nchain, bound their two beautiful lakes together--some to look after the\ntraps they had set over-night--some to prepare for the hunt--and some\nfor the merry games and athletic sports of the village. The quick eye of\nIsh-ta-le-o-wah soon discovered that all was not right in the tent of\nhis father. Kaf-ne-wah-go was not abroad, as usual, with his net in the\nstream. O-ken-ah-ga was not seen among the hunters with his bow, nor\namong the wrestlers on the green. No smoke was seen curling among the\nbranches of the old tree that overshadowed his mother's tent. All was\nstill as the house of the dead.\n\n\"Why sleep the brave so long, when the light of day is already on the\nhill-top, and coming down upon the valley. Has the snake crept into the\ntent of Kaf-ne-wah-go, and charmed the father with the children? I must\ngo and see.\"\n\nThe loud and piercing yell of Ish-ta-le-o-wah, as he looked in upon that\ndesolate wigwam, roused the whole village, like the blast of a trumpet.\nThe counsellors and braves of the nation were soon on the spot. The\nwhole scene was understood in a moment, as clearly as if a written\nrecord of the whole had been left behind. Pursuit, and the recovery of\nthe captive Tula and her child, were instantly resolved; and, ere the\nsun had surmounted the eastern barrier of their beautiful valley,\nIsh-ta-le-o-wah, with a band of chosen braves, was on the trail of the\nfoe.\n\nWith the keen eye and quick scent of a blood-hound, they followed the\nalmost obliterated track, through forest and brake, through swamp and\ndingle, over hill and prairie, till it was lost on the border of the\nAthabasca lake. Though the party in retreat was large, so well were they\nall trained in the Indian tactics of flight and concealment, that it\nrequired a most experienced eye to keep on their track. They had\nmarched, according to custom, in Indian file, each carefully walking in\nthe steps of the other, so that, to an unpractised observer, there would\nappear to have been but one wayfarer in the path. Wherever it was\npracticable, the path was carried over rocks, or the soft elastic\nmosses, or through the bed of a running brook, with the hope of eluding\nthe pursuer. But no artifice of the Athapuscow could elude the\nwell-trained eye of the Chippeway. He would instantly detect the\nslightest trace of a footstep on the ground, or the passage of a human\nbody through the thicket. In one place, the edges of the moss had been\ntorn, or a blade of grass trampled in upon it; in another, the small\nstones of the surface had been displaced, showing sometimes the fresh\nearth, and sometimes the hole of a worm uncovered, with half the length\nof its astonished occupant protruded to the light, as if investigating\nthe cause of the sudden unroofing of his cell. Here some dry stick\nbroken, or the bark of a protruding root peeled off, would betray the\nstep of the fugitive; and there a shrub slightly bent, or a leaf turned\nup and lapped over upon another, or a few petals of a wild flower torn\noff and scattered upon the ground, would reveal the rude touch of his\nfoot, or arm, or the trailing of his blanket, as he passed. Even on the\nbare rock, if a few grains of earth had been carried forward, or a\npebble, a leaf, a dry stick, or a bit of moss, adhering to the foot had\nbeen deposited there, it was instantly noticed and understood. The\nrushing of the waters in the brook did not always replace, in a moment,\nevery stone that had been disturbed in its bed, nor restore the broken\nlimb, nor the bent weed, to its place. So quick and intuitive were these\nobservations, that the march of the pursuer was as rapid and direct as\nthat of the pursued. The one would seldom lose more time in hunting for\nthe track, than the other had consumed in his various artifices of\nconcealment.\n\nOn arriving at the lake, it was evident that a considerable number of\nthe enemy had been encamped, and that they had just embarked. Their\nfires were still smoking, and the rocks were not yet dry, from which\nthey had pushed off their canoes, in the haste of their departure.\n\nThe Chippeway was not easily diverted from his purpose. With the speed\nof a chamois, he climbed a tall cliff, which, jutting boldly out into\nthe lake, concealed its great eastern basin from his view. Arrived at\nthe summit, he discerned, dimly relieved in the distant horizon, a\nnumber of moving specks, which he knew to be the canoes of the\nretreating foe. In the double hope of avenging the dead, and recovering\nthe living from captivity, he continued his course along the shores of\nthe lake, and, early the next morning, fell once more upon the trail of\nhis enemy. Pursuing it a short distance into the forest, it suddenly\ndivided, one part continuing on to the east, and one striking off toward\nthe south. In neither of them could he discover the track of his sister.\nHer captors had placed her, with their own women, in the middle of the\nmarch, so that the large and heavy track of the warriors who came after,\nshould cover and obliterate the lighter traces of her foot.\n\nTaking the eastern track, and moving on with accelerated speed, he\novertook the flying party in the act of encamping for the night.\nConcealing himself carefully from view, and watching his opportunity\nwhen all were busily engaged in pitching their tents, he raised the\nterrible war-whoop, with a volley of well directed arrows, and rushed,\nwith his whole band, upon his unarmed victims. Not one of them escaped;\nand, so sudden and complete was the retribution, that not one remained\nto tell where the captive Tula had been carried. The real murderers had\nescaped with their captives, and the vengeance intended for _them_ had\nfallen upon the heads of their innocent comrades.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nTula was treated with kindness by the Athapuscow chief, who claimed her\nas his own. Every means was tried to reconcile her to her new lot, and\nto make her content to be the wife of her enemy. But her heart was bound\nup with the memories of the dead. Her parents, her husband, her child,\nfilled all her thoughts. And the idea of being for ever bound to those\nwhose hands were stained with the blood of these precious lost ones, was\nnot to be endured for a moment. She was inconsolable, and her captors,\nfor a time, respected her grief. Day after day, they travelled on, with\nlong and weary marches, till the face of the country was changed, and\nthe green forest gave way to the barren and rocky waste, that skirts the\nnorthern borders of the great valley of prairies. As they advanced, they\ngrew more and more secure against pursuit, and less watchful of their\ncaptive. At length, she suddenly disappeared from their view.\n\nThey had pitched for the night, on the bank of the north branch of the\nSascatchawan. The night was dark and tempestuous. The lightnings flashed\nvividly from the dark cloud, and threatened to \"melt the very elements\nwith fervent heat.\" The hoarse thunders roared among the wildly\ncareering clouds, and reverberated along the shores of the stream, and\nthe cliffs of the distant mountains, as if those everlasting barriers\nwere rent asunder, and nature were groaning from her utmost depths. The\nIndian feared not death, in whatever shape it might come. But he feared\nthe angry voice of the Great Spirit. He shrunk with terror to the covert\nof his tent, and covered his eyes from the fearful glare of those\nincessant flashes, and prayed inwardly to his gods.\n\nThe poor disconsolate captive lay trembling under the side of the tent.\nShe thought of the storm that had swept over her beautiful home, and\ndesolated her heart in the spring time of its love. She looked at her\nsavage captors, now writhing in the agonies of superstitious fear, which\nher more absorbing private grief alone prevented her from sharing to the\nfull. They heeded her not. They scarcely remembered that she was among\nthem. Something whispered to her heart--\"No eye but that of the Great\nSpirit sees you. He bids you escape from your enemies.\"\n\nIn the ten-fold darkness that follows the all-revealing flash from the\nstorm-cloud, Tula slipped noiselessly under the edge of the robe that\nsheltered her from the beating rain, and plunging into the stream, swam\nwith the current a few rods, till she was arrested by a thick covert of\noverhanging shrubs, which grew to the water's edge. Thinking she might\nbe able to cover her head with these bushes, while her body was hid by\nthe water, she crept cautiously under, close to the bank, when, to her\nsurprise and joy, she found that this shrubbery covered and curiously\nconcealed a crevice in the jutting rock, sufficiently large to admit a\nfree entrance to an ample cave within. Having carefully adjusted every\nlimb and leaf without, and replaced with instinctive sagacity, the\nmosses that had been disturbed by her feet, she devoutly thanked the\ngood spirit for her hope of deliverance, and anxiously watched for the\nmorning.\n\nThe dark cloud of the night had passed over. The voice of the tempest\nwas hushed. The day broke clear and cloudless, amid the singing of\nbirds, and the quickened music of the swollen stream. The first thought\nof the Athapuscow chief, as he started from his troubled slumbers, was\nof his captive. But she was gone. With a shrill and angry whoop, he\nroused the whole band, and all started in pursuit. The old woods rung\nagain with the whoop and yell of the pursuers, and were answered by the\nsullen echoes of the hills and cliffs around. But neither wood, nor\nhill, nor cliff, revealed the hiding-place of the captive. The heavy\ntorrents of rain had obliterated every mark of her footsteps, and\nneither grass, nor sand, nor the yielding soil of the river-bank\nafforded any clue to the path she had taken.\n\nSafe in the close covert of her new found retreat, the poor captive\nheard all the loud and angry threats of her disappointed pursuers. She\neven heard their frequent conjectures and animated discussions of the\nmeans to be adopted for her recovery, and often, they were so near to\nher place of refuge, that she could see their anxious and angry looks,\nas they passed, and almost feel their hands among the bushes that\nsheltered her, and the quick tramp of their feet over the roof of her\ncave. But there was no track or mark, on land or water, to guide them to\nthat spot, and so naturally had every leaf been adjusted, that it had\nnot attracted a single suspicion from any one of those sagacious and\nquick-sighted inquisitors.\n\nTwo hours of fruitless search for a hiding place, or a track that should\nreveal the course of her flight, brought them to the conclusion that the\nGreat Spirit had taken her away, and that it was not for man to find her\npath again. With this conviction, they struck their tents, swam the\nstream, and resumed their march to the south.\n\nToo cautious to leave her covert at once, and wearied with her anxious\nwatchings, Tula composed herself to sleep, as soon as the last sound of\nthe retiring party died on her ear. The sun had declined half way to his\nsetting, when she awoke. She listened, with a suspicions ear for every\nsound without. The singing of birds, the rustling of the leaves, and the\nmurmur of the waters, were all that disturbed the silence of the scene.\nShe put her ear to the rock, but it brought nothing to her sense that\nrevealed the presence of man. With extreme caution, she ventured to look\nout from her cave, and, by slow degrees, peering on every side for some\nconcealed enemy, she emerged into the light, and dropping noiselessly\ninto the stream, swam to a point on the opposite shore, from which she\ncould obtain a good view of the recent encampment. It was deserted and\nstill. Not a trace was left behind, except the trampled grass, and the\nblackened embers.\n\nRecrossing the stream, she commenced, with a light step, and a hopeful\nspirit, the seemingly impossible task of finding her way back to her\nhome and her people. The consciousness of freedom buoyed her up, and\ninspired her with a new hope, at almost every step. With a light heart,\nand an elastic step, she bounded away over the desolate waste, that lay\nbetween the river and the forest, having neither path, nor track, nor\nland-mark, to guide her way, and with nothing but the instinct of\naffection to point out the course she should take. She had been so\nabsorbed with her many griefs, during the long and weary march hitherto,\nand so little did she dream of the possibility of escape, that she had\nscarcely taken any notice of the direction, or attempted to observe any\nland-marks to guide her return. The way by which she had been led was\ncircuitous and irregular, and she had only the vague general ideas, that\nher home was near \"the star that never moves,\" and that she had been\nleaving her shadow behind, to aid her in her solitary wanderings. With a\nhopeful courageous heart, she sought only to widen the distance between\nher cruel captors and herself, trusting that her way would open as she\nwent, and that her guardian angel, her tutelar divinity, would keep her\nfrom going astray. _Her_ tutelar divinity was the moon, whose light and\nprotection she invoked, with a devout, if not an enlightened faith.\nWhile she could enjoy her mild clear light, she was always happy and\nsecure; but when those beams were withdrawn, a shadow came over her soul\nthat was full of dark forebodings and anxious fears.\n\nShe had travelled several leagues, without seeing a track of any kind,\nand without the consciousness of fatigue or hunger. When night came on,\nshe was just entering a deep forest, whose impenetrable shade made a\nsudden transition from twilight to utter darkness. With no star to guide\nher, and with no appearance of a path through thickets which seemed\nnever to have been penetrated by a human footstep, she was soon\nbewildered, and felt that it was vain to proceed. With a few half-ripe\nnuts for a supper, and the soft moss which had gathered about the trunk\nof a fallen tree for a bed, she committed herself to sleep.\n\nAbout midnight, her slumbers were disturbed by a heavy rustling among\nthe bushes, at no great distance, accompanied by a constant crackling,\nas of some large animal, trying to penetrate the thicket. Perceiving\nthat it approached nearer at every step, she seized a club, with which\nshe had provided herself before entering the forest, and hastened to\nclimb into the nearest tree. As she ascended, it began to grow lighter\noverhead. The stars looked smilingly down upon her, but it was darker\nthan ever below. She breathed a silent prayer to the star of her\nfaith--the bright orb where she supposed her guardian angel resided--and\ntook courage. The mysterious step approached nearer and nearer. She\nsoon perceived that it was a bear, and supposed he would follow her into\nthe tree. She therefore seated herself upon a stout limb, a few feet\nfrom the main trunk, and prepared to give him a warm reception.\nPresently the heavy trampling ceased, and was followed by a silence\nvastly more oppressive than the previous noise.\n\nIn this condition, the remaining hours of the night passed away. With\nthe first light of the morning, the shaggy intruder was discerned,\nquietly reposing near the foot of the tree, and showing no signs of\nbeing in haste to depart. That he was conscious of the presence of a\nstranger, was evident only from an occasional upward glance of his eye,\nand a significant turning of the nose in that direction, as if there was\nsomething agreeable in prospect.\n\nTula would have been no match for Bruin on level ground, but she felt\nconfident of her power in the position she had chosen, and therefore\nquietly waited the movements of her adversary. For two or three hours,\nhe behaved himself with the gravity of a true philosopher, coolly\nexpecting to weary out the patience of his victim by a close siege, and\nso save himself the trouble of taking the tree by assault. But Tula was\nas patient and prudent as Bruin, and could endure hunger, and thirst,\nand wakefulness as well as he. Rousing at length from his inactivity, he\ntravelled round and round the tree, as if taking its measure, and\nestimating the probable result of an encounter. Tula watched his motions\nwith more interest than anxiety, hoping soon to be relieved from her\nimprisonment, and at liberty to pursue her journey. It was near noon,\nwhen, having satisfied himself that offensive measures were necessary,\nhe began to climb the tree. Having reached the leading branch, and\nembraced the trunk to raise himself to that on which Tula was seated,\nthe brave girl rose suddenly to her feet, and brought down her club upon\nthe enemy's nose with such desperate and well directed force, as to send\nhim, stunned and insensible, to the ground. Without allowing him a\nmoment to recover, she leaped down to his side, and dealt a succession\nof heavy blows upon his head, till the blood flowed in torrents, and his\nstruggles and his breathing ceased.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nIn this manner, many days and nights passed on, during which she\nencountered many imminent dangers, and severe conflicts, and made but\nlittle progress. Hunger, weariness, a continual sense of danger, and\nthat sickness of the heart, which solitude and suspense beget, were her\ninseparable companions. Every day, her hope of ultimately reaching the\nhome of her childhood grew fainter and fainter. But she had a woman's\nendurance, and a woman's fertility of resource. She never for a moment\nrepented her flight. She would have preferred death in any form to a\nforced espousal with the murderer of her family. Sometimes with roots\nand herbs, sometimes with nutritious mosses, and sometimes with wild\nfruits and nuts, she continued to satisfy the cravings of appetite, and\nto sustain her severely tried fortitude, for the fatigues and perils\nthat were yet before her.\n\nThe forest seemed interminable; and so indeed it might well have been\nregarded, for she was continually travelling round and round, in the\nsame track, having only an occasional glimpse of the sun to direct her\nway, or a view of the stars, when she climbed some tall tree at night.\nShe knew little of the direction in which she was going; but she was\nsure that that forest lay between her enemy and her home, and was\ntherefore resolved, at any expense of labor and suffering, to find her\nway through it, or perish in the attempt.\n\nAfter several weeks of incredible toil, fatigue, hardship and danger,\nthe brave persevering Tula emerged into a wide opening, having a\nconsiderable mountain on one side, and a large sheet of water, and a\nstream from the mountain pouring into it, on the other. It was a\nbeautiful spot, but the whole aspect of it was new and strange. She was\nconfident she had not passed that way, while a captive in the hands of\nthe Athapuscows. She was now wholly at a loss which way to turn. To\nretrace her steps through the intricacies of that dark forest, would be\nas vain as the thought of it was appalling. To go on, when she was\nabsolutely certain she was out of her track, seemed little less than\nmadness. To choose either the right hand or the left, was to leap in the\ndark, and involve herself in new doubts and difficulties. She needed\nrest. Her apparel was torn by her difficult passages through the tangled\nthickets, and her frequent contests with the enemies she found there.\nPondering deeply on the difficulties before her, she began to think,\nthat if there was any place of shelter near, she would make herself a\nnew home, and live and die alone in the great wilderness.\n\n\"And why,\" said she to herself, \"why should I return to the wigwam of my\nfather? Kaf-ne-wah-go is not there. My mother, she has gone with him to\nthe spirit land. O-ken-ah-ga waits no longer for my return. I left my\nbrave chief in his blood. His voice will no longer be heard in the\nvalley, with the hunters, nor his shout in the battle. He fell in the\nglory of his strength, like the young oak that is full of sap, and whose\nroots have struck deep into the earth. And my child, the son of\nO-ken-ah-ga, alas! he has not even a grave to sleep in. He lies on the\ncold bosom of the earth, and I know not where. Why then should I return\nto a desolate home, only made more desolate by the memory of what it\nwas?\"\n\nWith such thoughts as these, she beguiled her inward yearnings for the\nspot where all her joys had been, and where all her hopes were buried.\nWandering on the shores of the lake and the stream by day, and seeking\nsuch shelter as she could find in the clefts of the rocks at night, she\nsought for a place where she might provide a suitable protection against\nthe cold and the storms of winter, which were not far distant. Wild\nberries and fruits afforded her only sustenance for a considerable time,\nuntil her own ingenuity provided her with the means of procuring a more\ncertain substantial diet.\n\nHaving found a convenient spot in a deep ravine of the mountain, which\nopened towards the south, and was consequently always exposed to the\nsun, she immediately commenced the construction of a place to dwell in.\nThe spot selected was romantic and beautiful in the extreme, and seemed\nto have been designed by nature \"for some especial use.\" It was\nsufficiently elevated to command a fine view of the opening, including\nall the meanderings of the river, and the whole extent of the lake, and\nyet it was not difficult of access, nor so high as to be too much\nexposed to the wintry storms. It was a little nook, chipped out from the\nsolid rock, having a smooth slaty floor, about twelve feet square, with\na semi-circular recess of about half that depth into the side of the\nmountain. A jutting rock, about ten feet above this floor, and\noverhanging it on every side, formed a natural ceiling. It only needed\nto be enclosed on two sides, to make a lodge that any of the great\ncaciques of the wilderness might be proud of.\n\nFortunately Tula was not entirely destitute of tools to work with. A\npiece of an iron hoop, about six inches in length, and the shank of an\narrow head, also of iron, both of which she had picked up while among\nthe Athapuscows, constituted her whole stock. With these, which she\nsharpened upon the rocks, she contrived to cut down a number of young\nsaplings, and shape them to her purpose. Planting two of them upright\nupon the outer line of the floor, and laying the end of one against the\ninside, and the end of the other against the outside of the cornice, or\noverhanging ceiling, she bound them firmly together with green withes.\nIn this manner she went all round, leaving a space open for a door on\nthe sunny side. This done, she wove it, inside and out, with willow\nboughs, stuffing the intervening spaces with moss, till it was entirely\nimpervious to the weather. The door was of close basket-work hung at the\ntop, and secured at the sides, in a storm, or during the night, by means\nof withes fastened round the door-posts. This served the double purpose\nof door and window, while a crevice in the rock above, performed the\npart of a chimney.\n\nThe work went on slowly and heavily at first, but patience and\nperseverance, which can conquer all but impossibilities, accomplished it\nbefore the cold weather set in. Meanwhile, the ingenuity of the fair\nbuilder had found means to make a fire upon the hearth. Her materials\nfor that purpose were two hard sulphureous stones, which, by long\nfriction, or hard knocking, produced a few sparks. These, communicated\nto touchwood, were soon formed into a blaze.\n\nWhen fruits, berries and nuts failed, her ready ingenuity supplied her\nwith other means of sustaining life. She had, among her scanty stock of\nfurniture, a few deer-sinews, which, with the Indians, are a common\nsubstitute for thread. With the aid of these, she managed to snare\npartridges, rabbits and squirrels. She also killed several beavers and\nporcupines. The sinews of the rabbit's legs and feet were twisted with\ngreat dexterity, to supply the place of deer-sinews, when _they_ were\ngone. Their skins also, with those of the squirrels, served to replenish\nher exhausted wardrobe, supplying, under her skilful hand, a neat and\nwarm suit of winter clothing. Her industry was as untiring as her\ningenuity was fruitful of resources. Forlorn as her situation was, she\nwas composed and resigned, if not contented, and seemed to find pleasure\nin employing every moment of her waking hours in some useful or\nornamental contrivance.\n\nHer dress evinced much taste, and exhibited no little variety of\nornament. The materials, though rude, were very curiously wrought, and\nso judiciously arranged, as to give to the whole a pleasing and romantic\neffect. Her tunic was composed of the skins of squirrels and rabbits, in\nalternate strips of grey and white. It was secured at the waist by a\nbelt of skin, beautifully wrought with porcupine quills, colored\npebbles, and strips of bark of various brilliant hues. Her mantle, which\nwas large, was of the fairest and most delicate skins, arranged with a\ncertain uniformity and harmony of design, which gave it all the grace\nand beauty, without the stiffness, of a regular pattern. It had a\ntasteful border, of brilliant feathers, and, like the belt before\ndescribed, was fastened by a clasp of an unique and original\ncontrivance, being made of the beaks and claws of her captives, arranged\nand secured so as to interlock with each other. Her head-dress, leggings\nand moccasins, were equally perfect in style and effect.\n\nBesides accomplishing all this work, in her solitude, and even laying in\na stock of provisions in advance, sufficient for her wants, in case of a\nlong season of storms, sickness, or any other exigency, she had found\ntime to make several hundred fathoms of net-twine, by twisting the inner\nrind, or bark, of willow boughs, into small lines. Of these, she\nintended to make a fishing-net, as soon as the spring should open, and\nthus enlarge her sources of subsistence and enjoyment.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nIt was past mid-winter. The snow lay deep and hard upon all the northern\nhills and valleys. The lakes and rivers were frozen. The fountains of\nnature were sealed up, and verdure, and fruitfulness, and almost all\nthe elements of life, seemed to have followed the sun in his journey to\nthe far south. A company of English traders, under the guidance of a\nparty of Indians, were traversing the country from Hudson's Bay to the\nNorthern Ocean, in quest of furs and peltries. Emerging from a deep\nforest into a broad open plain, they discovered the track of a strange\nsnow-shoe, which, from its lightness, they judged to belong to a woman.\nNot knowing of any encampment in that vicinity, it excited the more\ncuriosity. They followed it. It led them a considerable distance out of\ntheir way, across the valley, and into the gorge of the mountain on its\nsouthern side. Pursuing it still, as it ascended by a circuitous path,\nthey came to a small cabin, perched like an eagle's nest in the clefts\nof the rock. They entered, and found a young and beautiful woman sitting\nalone at her work. It was Tula, the hermitess of Athabasca. For more\nthan seven moons she had not seen a human face, nor heard a human voice,\nnor did she ever expect again to see the one, or hear the other. She had\nbecome reconciled to her lot. She loved the solitude where her spirit\ncould commune with the departed, undisturbed, and where only the sun,\nthe moon, and the stars, and the Great Spirit that controlled and guided\nthem all, could read her thoughts, and know the history of her griefs.\n\nThe first surprise being over, Tula offered the strangers a place by her\nfire, and such other hospitalities as her cabin afforded.\n\n\"How comes the dove alone in the eagle's nest?\" enquired the leader of\nthe party.--And then, regarding her with a look of admiration,\nadded--\"does she not fear the hawk or the vulture, here in the cold\ncliffs of the mountain?\"\n\nTula replied by relating the story of her life--her bereavement--her\ncaptivity--her escape--her weary wanderings--her hardships--and the\nrepose she had found in her solitude; and concluded by saying, \"If the\neagle's nest be lonely and cold, it is quiet and safe. It is not too\nhigh for the moon to smile upon. It is not too cold for Tula.\"\n\n\"Would the 'singing bird' seek out her people, and let her song be heard\nagain among the trees of the valley?\"\n\n\"Tula is no longer the singing bird. Her song is shut up in her heart.\nHer heart is with her kindred in the spirit land. Her father's cabin is\nmore desolate than the wilderness, or the mountain top. Her tree is\nplucked up by the roots. It cannot live again.\"\n\nAfter some considerable persuasion, in which the voice of the humane\nEnglishman--suggesting that, if the Ottawas had discovered her retreat,\nthe Athapuscows might discover it also,--had its full share of weight,\nthe fair hermitess consented to accompany the strangers; though she\ncould not conceal her regret, in abandoning her snug little castle, to\nset off on a new pilgrimage, she knew not whither.\n\n\"It matters little to Tula where she goes, so that she does not meet the\nAthapuscow. His hands are red with the blood of her father, her husband,\nher child. Let her never see his face, or walk in his shadow.\"\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThe singular romance of Tula's story, the comeliness of her person, and\nher approved accomplishments, touched the hearts of some of the young\nbraves of the party. They had not gone far on their way, before a\ncontest arose between them, who, according to immemorial usage among the\ntribes, should claim the privilege of making her his wife. The\ndispute--to which she was no party, for her views were not so much as\nconsulted in the matter--ran very high, and had nearly resulted in\nserious consequences. The poor girl was actually won and lost, at\nwrestling, by near half a score of different men, in the course of as\nmany days. When, at length, a compromise was effected, and the prize\nawarded to Lak-in-aw, a young warrior of the Temiscamings, Tula refused\nto receive the pipe at his hands, or to listen in any way to his suit.\n\n\"Tula is buried in the grave of O-ken-ah-ga,\" she said. \"Tula will walk\nalone on the earth. Her heart is in the spirit land. It will never come\nback. It has nothing here to love.\"\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nOnward--onward--over interminable fields of snow and ice, where scarce a\ngreen thing appeared to relieve the utter desolation, the party\nproceeded, with their prize, on their journey to the far north. She was\ntreated with chivalric tenderness and respect, and her comfort and\nconvenience consulted in all the arrangements of the way. She needed but\nlittle indulgence, and solicited _none_. She was capable of enduring the\nfatigues and hardships of a man. She never flagged in the march, nor\nlingered a moment, when the word was given to go forward.\n\nIn traversing a deep valley near the eastern extremity of the Great\nSlave Lake, their track was crossed by that of a considerable party of\nIndians, returning from an expedition to the fur regions of the north.\nTheir course lay along the southern border of the lake. Perceiving their\nencampment at no great distance, on the other side of the valley, it was\nresolved to visit them, and, if they were found to be friendly, to join\ntheir camp for the night. On approaching the spot, they were met by the\nchief, who, with a few attendants, came out to bid them welcome to his\ntent. He was a fine specimen of a young Indian brave--one who, in his\ngreen youth, had gained laurels, which it usually requires a life-time\nto win. His costume, though adapted to the severity of the climate, was\ntasteful and picturesque, and so fitted and arranged as to develop, to\nthe best advantage, the admirable proportions of his person.\n\nThe parley that ensued was a fine specimen of Indian courtesy and\ndiplomacy. But it was suddenly and violently interrupted, when Tula, who\nhad remained in the rear of her party, with the Englishmen, came up. At\nthe first sight of the young chief, she uttered a loud and\npiercing shriek--for the extremes of joy and grief use similar tones and\ngestures--and rushing forward, pushed aside friend and stranger alike,\nand flung herself upon his neck, exclaiming--\"Ish-ta-le-o-wah!--my\nbrother! my brother!\"\n\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n\n                     Transcriber's Note\n\n    The following changes were made to the original text:\n\n      Accents were restored to the Table of Contents.\n\n      Page 5,  \"Ka-ree-o-than\" changed to \"Karee-o-than\"\n               (Tezcuco--Karee-o-than)\n\n      Page 12, \"Kaf-na-wa-go\" changed to \"Kaf-ne-wah-go\"\n               (wigwam of Kaf-ne-wah-go)\n\n      Page 20, \"skillfully\" changed to \"skilfully\"\n               (craftily and skilfully worked)\n\n      Page 35, \"paralasis\" changed to \"paralysis\"\n               (struck with instant paralysis)\n\n      Page 40, \"acknowledgements\" changed to \"acknowledgments\"\n               (ample acknowledgments)\n\n      Page 50, \"terrestial\" changed to \"terrestrial\"\n               (paradise of terrestrial sweets)\n\n      Page 53, \"harrass\" changed to \"harass\"\n               (harass his soul)\n\n      Page 58, \"anything\" changed to \"any thing\"\n               (his position any thing but)\n\n      Page 60, \"discomfitted\" changed to \"discomfited\"\n               (among the discomfited Cholulans)\n\n      Page 66, \"unappeaseable\" changed to \"unappeasable\"\n               (an unappeasable fate)\n\n      Page 67, \"suprised\" changed to \"surprised\"\n               (continually surprised and delighted)\n\n      Page 73, \"cortege\" changed to \"cortege\"\n               (the royal cortege)\n\n      Page 78, \"mein\" changed to \"mien\"\n               (proud and haughty mien)\n\n      Page 102, \"chastly\" changed to \"chastely\"\n                (chastely decorated)\n\n      Page 121, \"it's\" changed to \"its\"\n                (Oozing its bitterness)\n\n      Page 125, \"beseiged\" changed to \"besieged\"\n                (heads of the besieged)\n\n      Page 193, \"to day\" changed to \"to-day\"\n                (my brave hunter, to-day) [First instance on page]\n\n      Page 205, \"calmess\" changed to \"calmness\"\n                (a calmness which we)\n\n      Page 227, \"Kaf-ne-wa-go\" changed to \"Kaf-ne-wah-go\"\n                (home of Kaf-ne-wah-go)\n\n      Page 227, \"Ish-ta-le-ah\" changed to \"Ish-ta-le-o-wah\"\n                (the brave Ish-ta-le-o-wah)\n\n      Page 245, \"patridge\" changed to \"partridge\"\n                (to snare partridges)\n\n      Page 247, \"controled\" changed to \"controlled\"\n                (controlled and guided)\n\n      Page 250, \"grief\" was typeset on the incorrect line and\n                 was repositioned accordingly\n                (joy and grief use)\n\n    All other inconsistencies in spelling and hyphenation were\n    retained as printed in the original text.","title":"Sketches of Aboriginal Life: American Tableaux, No. 1","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":64084}