CHAPTER XXI.
The assault upon the garden and palace of Guatimozin, though the lastblow given to his power, it has not been thought needful to describe inany of its details. It is well known, that the occasion was used by thefew nobles of the empire who yet survived, to withdraw their monarchwith his family from the island, in the vain hope of reaching the mainland, through a line of brigantines and armed piraguas. It is also wellknown, that, notwithstanding the stratagem with which these faithfulbarbarians essayed to protect the last of their native lords, byexposing their own defenceless gondolas to destruction, he was captured,in consequence of his magnanimous self-devotion, and transferred withhis trembling family, from his royal piragua to the galley of GarciHolguin.
Drums, trumpets, falconets, fire-arms, and human voices at onceproclaimed the importance of the capture, and the triumph of thevictors; and with all the speed of sails and oars, the fortunatecavalier bore his prize towards the nearest landing in possession of theSpaniards, deriding and even defying the claim set up by Sandoval, asthe superior officer, to the honour of presenting the prisoner to theCaptain-General. Long before he had reached the palace of Axajacatl, itwas known throughout the whole city that Guatimozin was in the hands ofthe besiegers. The warriors who still fought in the garden, beheld thesurrender on the lake, instantly threw down their arms, and submittedwith sullen indifference to the fate they had long anticipated. With theinterview betwixt the king and the conqueror all readers are familiar.The Captain-General, sumptuously dressed, and in the midst of such stateas could be prepared for an occasion so imposing, received the prisoner,(in whose wasted figure and dejected countenance it was not possible torecognize the half-forgotten Olin,) in the hall of the palace ofAxajacatl, where his ancestors had been kings and princes, but intowhich he now entered a captive and vassal. The Captain-General receivedhim not only with respect, but with an appearance of sympathy andkindness. In truth, he could not but admire the fortitude of hisyouthful foe; and he reflected, not without exultation, that if hisdesperate resistance had increased the pains and perils of conquest, andfrequently dashed all hopes of success, it had made his own triumph athousand times more glorious. He descended from his chair of state, andraising the dejected captive from the floor, upon which he had flunghimself in token of submission, he embraced him with many expressions ofrespect and encouragement.
"Fear not--neither for thy life nor crown," he said. "Thou perceivest,the king of Spain, my master, is invincible. Reign still in Mexico; butreign as his vassal."
He would have replaced on the captive's head the copilli of gold, whichhad been brought from the gondola and put into his hand; but Guatimozinrejected it with a melancholy gesture, saying,
"It is the Teuctli's--I am no more the king. Malintzin! be merciful tothe people of Mexico: they are now slaves. Have pity also on the womenand children, that come from the palace; for they are of the householdof Montezuma. As for myself, Malintzin, hearken to what I say. The kingsof Mexico have all died; when they gave their breath to heaven, thecrown was on their front, and the sceptres on their bosom. Why thenshould I live, who am no longer a king? Malintzin, I have fought forMexico, I have shed blood for my country, and now I shed tears; I can dono more for my people--It is fitting, therefore, that I should die--ButI should die like a king."--He extended his hand, and touched thejewelled dagger that glittered in the baldric of his foe. The action waswithout any sign of hostility, and his countenance, now uplifted uponCortes, was bathed with tears. "Let Malintzin do the work--Plunge thisdagger into my bosom, and let me depart."
There was something affecting even to the iron-hearted conqueror in thesituation and demeanour of the poor infidel, thus beseeching, andevidently with as much sincerity as simplicity, a death of honour aftera life of patriotism; and Cortes would have renewed his caresses andassurances of friendship, had not his ears been that moment struck byvoices without, pronouncing the name of Juan Lerma, with brutalexecrations. He signed to those cavaliers who had conducted the monarchto his presence, to lead him away; and a moment after, Juan Lerma wasconducted up to his footstool. Dejected, spiritless, overcome perhaps bythe ferocious calls for vengeance which had heralded his steps to thepalace, as well as by the exhaustion of long bodily suffering, he didnot raise his eyes from the floor, until he heard the voice of Cortespronounce the faltering words,--
"Juan of Castillejo, I have done you a great wrong.--Yes," he continued,with a louder voice, when Juan looked up, surprised not more by hisaltered tones than by a name so unexpected and unknown, "Yes, and letall bear witness to my confession;--I have done thee, not one wrongonly, but many; for which I heartily repent me, and, before all thisassemblage, do beseech thy forgiveness."
"My forgiveness, senor!" stammered Juan, while all the rest looked on inamazement.
"Thy forgiveness," repeated the conqueror, with double emphasis. "Thouhast been belied to me, bitterly maligned; but heaven has punished theslanderer, who slew mine own peace of mind, that he might compass thydeath."
"Alas, senor," said Juan; "in his death-gasp, Guzman confessed to me--"
"Speak not of Guzman--forget him.--Have ye heard, my masters! and welltaken note of what is spoken? Now begone, all, and leave me alone withmy recovered prodigal.--Juan--Juan Lerma,--Juan of Castillejo," hecried, as soon as the wondering audience had vanished; "if Guzman haveconfessed to you, you must know why I have been maddened into wrath andinjustice.--But thy sister, Juan, where is thy sister? my poorMagdalena? Ah, Juan! it was but a fiendish aberration, that set meagainst the child of my sister!"
With these words, he threw himself upon Juan's neck, and embraced himwith a fervour that indicated the return of all his old affections,uttering a thousand exclamations, in which he mingled recurrences to thepast with many a reference to the present and future. "This will be aglad day to Catalina, for she ever loved thee--Dolt that I was, to thinkthat her love could be aught but a mother's! My father, Juan, my father,too! his gray hairs will yet be laid in a grave of joy; for he shallbehold the son of his daughter seated in the inheritance of a noblefather. And thy sister--she shall shine with the proudest andnoblest.--I knew thee upon the causeway, too, though I was left in acoma, and half expiring. We have full proof of thy claims.--And thyprincess, too--dost thou remember the silver cross?" taking it from hisbosom--"Were there a duke's son demanded her, she should be thine.--Whatho! some one bring me--But, nay--Thy sister, Juan! does she not live?"
Juan was stunned, stupified, bewildered, by a transformation in his owncharacter and in the feelings of the general, so sudden and somarvellous. Yet he strove to reply to the last question, and was in theact of uttering a broken and hasty explanation, when a loud cry camefrom the passage, and rushing out, they beheld a party of soldiersbearing, in a litter of robes torn from the burning palace, the body, orthe living frame, they knew not which, of the unhappy nun, over whom thepenitent Gregorio was bitterly lamenting.
It was indeed Magdalena, her garments scorched, her face like the faceof the dying. Yet she did not seem to have suffered from the flames. Thesoldiers had found her in a part of the palace not touched by the fire,and scarce invaded by the smoke; and perhaps a subtle physician wouldhave traced her dreadful condition rather to some overpoweringconvulsion of spirit than to any physical, injury. She was indeed dying,the victim of contending passions, with which the education of acloister had so ill fitted her to contend.
We will not speak of the meeting of Juan and his dark-eyed proselyte. Ittook place beside the couch of the dying girl, who, for love of him, hadgiven up the vows of religion and the fame of woman, and perished withfrenzy, when she discovered that that love was more than the love of asister.
At nightfall, and while she still lay insensible, save that a faint moanoccasionally trembled from her lips, there arose a tempest of lightning,thunder, and rain, far exceeding in violence any that had before burstover the heads of the Spaniards, and which Bernal Diaz has recorded inhis history, as having been the most dreadful that ever confounded hi
smind and senses. It seemed as if the warlike divinities of Mexico werenow taking leave of their broken altars and subjugated people, with adisplay of strength and fury, never more to be exercised. It ceased notuntil midnight, and then only when it had discharged a bolt that shookthe island to its foundation, and tumbled many a ruined cabin anddilapidated palace, upon the heads of their unhappy inmates.
It was in the midst of this conflict of the elements, that the brokenspirit passed from its weary prison; and what had been beauty andaffection, genius and passion, became a clod, to claim kindred with itsfellow of the valley. It was better indeed that she should thus perish;for her nature was above that of earth, and even the passion thatdestroyed her, pure, enthusiastic, and devoted as it was, was unworthythe spirit it had subdued. It was such as is the molewarp to therose-bush, or the myrtle-tree, which he can destroy by burrowing attheir roots, even when the winter's blast can scarce rive away a branch.
The remains of this ill-fated being were interred upon a sequesteredhill, west of Mexico, where Gregorio Castillejo built a hermitage, andmourned over her for the few years he survived her. He left the odour ofsanctity behind him, and the hermitage is now forgotten in the chapelbuilt upon its site, and dedicated to Our Lady de los Remedios. To thisplace Cortes withdrew, with his whole army, in order that the ruinedcity might be purified of corses and rubbish, that rendered it horribleeven to a soldier, no longer inflamed by the fire of battle. He soon,however, removed to Xochimilco, the Field of Flowers, where the time ofthe purification was devoted to solemn rejoicings and profanefestivities.
To all those who may yet be disposed to consider our account of thestrength and splendour of the empire of Montezuma as fabulous, werecommend no better study than the honest, worthy, and single-mindedhistorian, Bernal Diaz del Castillo, who lived to complete his _HistoriaVerdadera_, fifty years afterwards, in the loyal city of Guatimala, inwhich he held the honourable post of Regidor, the venerable, and, atthat period, almost the sole survivor of the followers of Cortes. He hasrecorded one striking proof of the vast multitudes of pagans that hadbeen concentrated within the island of Mexico. After averring, with asolemn oath, that, after the fall of the city, the streets, houses,squares, courts, and canals, were so covered with dead bodies, that itwas impossible to move without treading upon them, he relates, that,Cortes having ordered all who survived, principally women and children,and the wounded, to evacuate the city, preparatory to its purification,'for _three days and three nights_, all the causeways were full of thewretched fugitives, who were so weak and sickly, so squalid andpestilential, that it was misery to behold them.' Three broad highways,covered, for the space of three days and nights, by a moving mass ofwidows and orphans, the trophies of a gallant achievement! the firstfruits of the ambition of a single individual!
As Bernal Diaz retained, to the last, a jealous regard for the honour ofhis leader, this friendly weakness, taken into consideration along withthe infirmities of memory incident to his advanced age, may perhapsaccount for his failure to complete the story of Juan Lerma. He may haverecollected, as is often the case with an old man, the earliest facts ofthe story, while the later ones slipped entirely from his mind.
Of Cortes himself, it is scarce necessary to apprize the reader, that helived to subdue other empires, and experience the ingratitude of amonarch, whose favour he had so amply merited. He fought for renown, forhis king, and for heaven. Heaven alone can judge the merit of his acts,for men are yet unwilling to sit in judgment upon the brave; his kingrequited him with insults and positive oppression; and fame has placedhim among those who have trodden out the wine-press of human desolation,and live in marble.
As for the young Count of Castillejo, his claims to the inheritance ofhis father were too well substantiated to be resisted; and the crimes ofGregorio had left none to oppose. As a subordinate in the work ofconquest, there was nothing in him to be feared; and when he bore from aland he could only remember with sorrow, a bride whose father had bornethe witching name of king, he was received with as much favour, anddistinguished by as many honours, as any other _Conquistador_, whotransplanted among the dames of Castile, a wife wooed within the palacesof Montezuma.
The fate of Guatimozin is well known. The crown he was still enforced towear did not protect him from the torture of fire; nor could his noblecharacter and unhappy fall secure him from a death of degradation. Fouryears after the fall of his empire, and at a distance of several hundredleagues from his native valley, he expiated upon a gibbet, a crime thatexisted only in the gloomy and remorseful imagination of the Conqueror.And thus, with two royal kinsmen, kings and feudatories of Anahuac, hewas left to swing in the winds, and feed the vultures, of a distant anddesert land. He merited a higher distinction, a loftier respect, and aprofounder compassion, than men will willingly accord to a barbarian andINFIDEL.
THE END.
The Infidel; or, the Fall of Mexico. Vol. II. Page 21
