When these reached Tezcuco, Cortez felt confident that he should now be able to overcome all opposition. On the fifth of April he again started on an expedition. Passing through some deep gorges, he attempted to carry a mountain fortress; but was repulsed, with loss, from the volleys of stones and rocks rolled down upon the assailants.

After several other battles they neared Xochimilco, one of the richest of the Aztec towns. Like Mexico, it stood in the water, but at a small distance from the edge of the lake. This was only captured after desperate fighting, Cortez himself having a narrow escape of his life. The next morning at dawn, great numbers of Aztecs landed from canoes, and fell upon the Spaniards; and it was only after a long and desperate struggle that the latter gained the day.

They now continued their march to Tlacopan, the enemy following closely, and striking whenever they saw an opportunity; and the troops were glad, indeed, when they again reached Tezcuco. By this time the canal was finished and the ships were put together; and after discovering and punishing another conspiracy against his life, Cortez gave orders for the fleet to advance. Solemn mass was held, and then the vessels, in the sight of an enormous concourse of people, dropped down the canal, one after the other, and reached the lake.

Cortez mustered his men, and found that he had eighty-seven horse; eight hundred and eighteen foot, of which one hundred and eighteen were musketeers or crossbow men; three large iron field pieces, and fifteen light brass guns. Three hundred of the men were told off to man the ships.

The Indian confederates arrived punctually: fifty thousand Tlascalans, and a vast number of levies from the other tribes.

The army was divided into three corps. One was to take up its post, under Alvarado, at Tlacopan. Another, under Olid, was to aid in capturing the causeway; while Sandoval had command of the third, whose movements were to be determined by circumstances. Cortez himself took charge of the fleet.

A quarrel arose between a Spanish soldier and a Tlascalan chief, who was a relation of Xicotencatl; who at once left the army, and started for Tlascala. He had always been bitterly hostile to the Spaniards; and Cortez saw that, unless the movement was stopped, it might become very serious. He sent a party of natives after him, with instructions to prevail upon him, if possible, to return. He refused to do so. Cortez dispatched a body of cavalry in pursuit, arrested him in Tlascala, brought him down to Tezcuco, and there hung him in the sight of his own countrymen.

The divisions of Alvarado and Olid met with no resistance in establishing themselves at Tlacopan. They cut the reservoir that supplied the city with fresh water, the great lake being salt. The next day the two divisions marched on to the causeway to make themselves masters, if possible, of the first bridge.

The natives pursued their former tactics, desperately defending barricades thrown across the causeway, and attacking the invaders with a crowd of missiles from canoes. After a long and obstinate fight, the Spaniards and their allies were obliged to fall back, with considerable loss; and Olid drew off with his division to his station commanding the other causeway.

Iztapalapan having been again occupied by the enemy, Sandoval's division attacked them by land; while Cortez, with his fleet, lay off the shore. After capturing the town, Cortez turned his attention to the canoes of the natives, which darkened the surface of the lake. At this moment a fresh breeze sprang up; and the ships, spreading their canvas, dashed amongst the canoes, overturning and destroying great numbers; while the cannon tore others to pieces, with discharges of bullets; and comparatively few succeeded in regaining the city.

It was now getting nearly dark, and the fleet coasted along the great southern causeway to the fort of Xoloc, where another branch of the causeway joined the main dike.

The fort was feebly garrisoned. Cortez landed his soldiers and carried it by storm. Here he established his headquarters, landing some of the cannon from the ships to strengthen the position.

He was now within half a league of the city, and two out of the three great approaches were already in his hands. Night and day the natives attacked the garrison; but the ships, and the guns in positions, repulsed their assaults.

After some days' delay, a simultaneous attack was made by the Spaniards. Two of the ships, one on each side of the causeway, advanced abreast of the army, sweeping the dike with their fire. The enemy were driven back; and Cortez, passing gap after gap, reached the island on which the city stood. Behind them, as they advanced, the native allies filled up the breaches, and made them practicable for artillery and cavalry; and as soon as the work was completed, the Spaniards who had already passed were reinforced by large numbers of their allies.

Chapter 21: A Victim For The Gods

The street which the Spaniards entered, after leaving the causeway, intersected the city from north to south. It was broad and perfectly straight and, from the roofs of the houses which lined it, a storm of missiles was poured on the Spaniards, as they advanced. Cortez set the allies to work to level the houses, as fast as the Spaniards won their way along the street. This they did, until they reached the first canal. The bridge here had been broken down, and after the Indians had crossed, the temporary planks were pulled after them, and they joined their countrymen behind a solid rampart of stone, erected on the other side of the canal.

It was not until after two hours' hard fighting, and the use of artillery, that this obstacle was cleared away; and the Spaniards, wading across the canal, pressed forward without further resistance, until they reached the great square, on one side of which stood the palace they had so long occupied. The Aztecs–disheartened at the manner in which all the defenses on which they relied had been captured by the Spaniards, and by their presence in the heart of the city–for some time desisted from their efforts; but they were roused to fury, as a body of Spaniards rushed up the winding terraces to the summit of the great temple, and hurled the priests from its summit.

Then, with a yell of fury, they threw themselves upon their enemies. Their headlong rush swept the Spaniards back into the square, when they were attacked by bodies of natives, pouring down every street. For once the Spaniards lost their presence of mind, fell into disorder, and were swept before the torrent, down the street which they had just traversed.

In vain Cortez attempted to stem the stream. The panic spread to the allies, and the whole mass were flying before the natives; when a body of cavalry came up and plunged into the crowd. The natives were shaken by the appearance of the enemies they feared so much; and Cortez, taking advantage of the confusion, rallied his followers, and again drove the Aztecs back into the square.

Night was now at hand and, dragging off the cannon which had been abandoned in their flight, the force marched off in good order, though hotly pressed by the natives, and retired to Xoloc. Alvarado and Sandoval also succeeded in crossing their respective causeways, but neither of them could penetrate into the city.

The attack had failed, but it had strengthened the position of the Spaniards; for seeing the speedy manner in which they had overcome all the defenses erected by the Mexicans, many of the cities which had hitherto stood aloof now sent in their submission, and supplied levies to assist them in their work; while Ixtlilxochitl, who had now become Lord of Tezcuco, and was a strong adherent of the Spaniards, brought up a force of fifty thousand Tezcucans, who were divided among the three armies.

Another simultaneous attack was now made, the advance along the causeway being, as before, covered by the ships; but the enemy fought stoutly, and some hours elapsed before the Spaniards again entered the city. The advance was now more easy than on the previous occasion, owing to the destruction of the buildings bordering the streets. The natives, however, still fought with the greatest obstinacy; but the great square was at last reached.

Thinking to discourage the natives, by the destruction of some of the principal edifices, Cortez ordered the palace which had served as the former barracks to be set on fire, as also the house of birds adjoining Montezuma's palace, and those were soon a mass of flames. The Aztecs, however, were infuriated rather than intimidated; and the fight raged with greater fury than ever. Having accomplished his object, Cortez again gave the order to fall back and, covered by the cavalry, retired down the street; so desperately assailed, by the natives, that but few men reached the fort unwounded.

Day after day the same tactics were repeated, the Mexicans every night repairing the breaches cleared out every day by the Spanish allies. Cortez found it impossible to guard the causeway and prevent this, the soldiers being already overcome by the fatigue of their daily encounters. Alvarado's division, however, held at night the ground they won in the daytime; but the troops suffered dreadfully from the incessant toil, and from the rain, which poured down in torrents. The soldiers of Cortez fared little better, for the buildings in the fort of Xoloc afforded shelter but to few; and the rest had to sleep on the causeway in its rear, exposed to all the tempestuous weather.

Frequently, too, they were called up to battle; for the Aztec emperor, contrary to the usual practice of his countrymen, frequently attacked by night; often making simultaneous attacks on the three divisions on the causeways, while at the same moment troops from the neighboring towns attacked their camps in the rear. He did not content himself with open attacks, but resorted to stratagem. On one occasion he had a large number of canoes in ambuscade, among some tall reeds bordering the lake. Several large boats then rowed near the Spanish vessels. Believing that they were filled with provisions intended for the city, two of the smaller vessels pursued them. The Aztec boats made for the reeds, the Spaniards followed, and presently struck upon submerged timbers the Indians had driven in. They were instantly attacked by the whole fleet of canoes, most of the men were wounded, and several, including the two captains, slain, and one of the Spanish craft captured.

It was now three months since the siege had begun, and the attitude of the Mexicans was as bold and defiant as ever. Several attempts which Cortez had made to open negotiations with the young emperor had been received with scorn. It was certain that, sooner or later, famine would do its work; for the approaches to the city were all in the hands of the Spaniards, and as the towns of the lake were either friendly or overawed by the great army of their allies, even the canoes, which at first made their way in at night with provisions, had ceased to steal across in the darkness. The great native levies were of little use to the Spaniards in the absolute fighting, but they did good service by overawing the towns, making expeditions against the tribes that had not yet consented to throw in their lot with the invaders, and by sweeping in provisions from a wide extent of country.

But to wait until famine did its work little suited the spirit of the Spaniards. The process would assuredly be a long one, for men who fought so stoutly would resist starvation with equal tenacity; besides, the duration of the siege was already beginning to excite discontent among the allies, whose wars were generally of very short duration. The Spaniards, too, were suffering from severe illness brought on by fatigue, exposure, and hardship.

It was now determined to make a grand effort to obtain possession of the great market of Tlatelolco, which lay on the northwestern part of the city. Its possession would enable the force of Cortez to join hands with those of Alvarado and Sandoval; and the spacious market itself, with its halls and porticoes, would furnish accommodation for the army; and enable them to attack the city at close quarters, instead of having to fight their way, every day, along the causeway.

Sandoval was to join Alvarado, sending seventy picked troops to support Cortez. Advancing along the causeway, and supported not only by the ships, but by a countless host of canoes filled with the allies of the lake cities, who penetrated the canals, and caused confusion in the rear of the Aztecs, the division of Cortez cleared the suburbs of their opponents, and then advanced towards the square of Tlatelolco by three great streets.

Alderete commanded the force that advanced by the main central avenue. This was a raised causeway, with canals running on either side of the road. Tapia and a brother of Alvarado commanded one of the other columns, while Cortez led the third. A small body of cavalry, with three guns, remained in reserve in the great street leading to the causeway; and here the column were to rally, in case of disaster.

The three columns advanced simultaneously. The Spanish pressed the Aztecs back before them. Their allies filled up the canals as they took them, one by one. The Tlascalans stormed the houses, and attacked the enemy on their roofs; while the canoes engaged those of the Aztecs, and so prevented them from interfering with the men occupied in filling up the breaches. The parallel streets were near enough to each other for the Spaniards to hear the shouts of their companions in the other columns, and to know that all were gaining ground steadily.

The enemy in the streets fought with less obstinacy than usual; and Cortez, with his usual keen-sightedness, at once apprehended that the feebleness of the resistance indicated some device, and that the Aztecs were allowing them to advance, only to lead them into a trap.

He had received a message from Alderete saying that he was getting on fast, and that he was but a short distance from the great square. Fearing that this officer, eager to be the first to gain the marketplace, was not taking proper precautions to secure his retreat; Cortez, with a small body of troops, retraced his steps, and turned up the street by which Alderete's column had advanced. He had gone but a short distance, when he saw that his stringent orders had been neglected; for he came upon an opening some thirty feet wide, full of water at least twelve feet deep. A slight attempt, only, had been made to stop the gap; and stones and timber, lying by the side, showed that it had been abandoned as soon as commenced.

The general saw, too, that the road had been narrowed as it approached this point, and that the work had evidently been recently done. Much alarmed at the consequence of this neglect, he at once set his men to fill up the breach; but they had scarcely begun the operation when a terrific yell arose, drowning the mingled clamor of the distant conflict.

Alderete had, as Cortez supposed, pressed on the retreating Aztecs with too great eagerness. He had carried the barricades which defended the breach, and had given orders that the chasm should be filled up. But in their eagerness to be first in the square, the Spaniards had pressed on, none caring to stop to see that the allies carried out the order. So, taking position after position, they pressed on until they were close to the square.

Suddenly the horn of Guatimozin, the emperor, sent forth a piercing note from the summit of a temple. As if by magic, the retreating Aztecs turned and fell on their pursuers; while swarms of warriors from the adjoining streets, lanes, and corners attacked the advancing column.

Taken completely by surprise, bewildered by the suddenness and fury of the onslaught, appalled by the terrific war yells, smitten down by the rain of missiles from the Aztecs, the Spaniards fell into confusion, and were swept down the street like foam on the crest of a wave. In vain their leaders attempted to rally them. Their voices were drowned in the din, and their followers, panic stricken, now thought only of preserving their lives.

On they came, until they reached the edge of the cut. Here some plunged in, others were pushed in by the pressure from behind. Those who could swim were pulled down by their struggling comrades. Some got across and tried to climb the slippery side of the dike, but fell back and were seized by the Aztecs; whose canoes now dashed up, and added to the confusion by hurling a storm of missiles into the crowd.

Cortez, with his little party, kept his station on the other side of the breach. They were already surrounded by Aztecs, who had landed on the causeway behind them; but held their ground desperately, and endeavored, as far as possible, to assist their comrades to climb out of the water. Cortez was speedily recognized, and storms of missiles were poured upon him, but these glanced harmlessly from his helmet and armor. Six of the Aztecs threw themselves upon him together, and made a desperate effort to drag him into their boat. In the struggle he received a severe wound in the leg, and fell.

Olid, one of his followers, sprang to his rescue, severed the arm of one of the natives, and ran another through the body; and being joined by a comrade named Lerma, and by a Tlascalan chief, stood over the body of Cortez and drove off his foes, dispatching three more of his assailants; but Olid fell, mortally wounded, by the side of his leader.

Quinones, the captain of the guard, with several of his men now fought his way up, lifted Cortez from the water, and laid him on the road. One of his pages brought up his horse, but fell, wounded in the throat by a javelin. Guzman, the chamberlain, then seized the bridle, and held it while Cortez was helped into the saddle; but was himself seized by the Aztecs, and carried off in a canoe.

Cortez, wounded as he was, would still have fought on; but Quinones, taking his horse by the bridle, turned it to the rear, exclaiming that his leader's life was "too important to the army to be thrown away there!"

The mass of fugitives poured along the causeway. The road was soft, and was so cut up that it was knee deep in mud; and in some places the water of the canals beside it met across it. Those on the flanks were often forced, by the pressure, down the slippery sides; and were instantly captured and carried off by the canoes of the enemy. Cortez's standard bearer was among those who fell in the canal, but he succeeded in recovering his footing, and saved the standard.

At last the fugitives reached the spot where the cannon and cavalry had been placed in reserve. Here Cortez rallied them, and charged the Aztecs with the little body of horse, while the artillery opened a hot fire upon them. He then sent orders to the other two columns to fall back and, when these had rejoined him, the division retired, Cortez covering the movement with the cavalry.

As soon as they were freed from the city, Tapia was sent round on horseback to acquaint the other commanders of the failure. They had advanced at the same time as Cortez, and had on their side nearly gained the square; when they, too, were startled by the blast of Guatimozin's horn, and by the terrible yell that followed it. Then they heard the sound of battle, which had before been clearly audible, roll away in the distance; and knew that the division of Cortez had been driven back.

In a short time the attack upon themselves increased in fury, as the troops who had been engaged with Cortez returned and joined in the attack upon them. Two or three bloody heads were thrown among them, with shouts of "Malinzin!"

Although Sandoval and Alvarado did not credit the death of their commander, they felt that it was useless to persevere, and indeed were unable to withstand the furious assaults of the Aztecs. With great difficulty they drew off their troops to the entrenchment on the causeway, and here the guns of the ships, sweeping the road, drove back their assailants. The greatest anxiety prevailed as to the fate of Cortez, until Tapia arrived, bleeding from several wounds, which he had received from parties of men whom Guatimozin had stationed to interrupt the communication between the two camps.

Sandoval at once rode round. He, too, was attacked on the road; but his armor, and that of his horse protected him from the missiles showered upon them. On arriving at the camp, he found the troops much dispirited. Numbers had been killed and wounded, and no less than sixty-two Spaniards, with a multitude of allies, had fallen into the hands of the enemy. Indeed, the column around Alderete had been almost entirely destroyed, and two guns and seven horses had been lost.

Cortez explained to his follower the cause of the disaster, and told Sandoval that, as he should be unable to take the field for a few days, he must take his place, and watch over the safety of the camps.

Roger Hawkshaw had borne his full share in the desperate conflicts that had taken place. In the previous combats he had fought only to preserve his own life, but now he was eager for the fray. His friend Cuitcatl and his promised bride were prisoners in Mexico, and he fought now to deliver them. It was nearly a year from the time when he had first retreated along the fatal causeway; and in that time his frame had broadened out, and his strength increased; and so terrible were the blows he dealt that Cortez, himself, had several times spoken to him in terms of approval of his valor, and had appointed him to be one of his own bodyguard. He had stood beside him at the edge of the breach, and had done good service there.

"You fight like a paladin," Cortez said, as Roger cut down three natives who had rushed upon him; "but see, Sancho, put up your sword for a minute, and take up that pike. If you hand the end to those poor fellows in the water, your strength will be sufficient to haul them up."

Roger at once set to, at the work of saving life, and dragged more than a score of men who would otherwise have been drowned. He heard the cry which was raised, when Cortez was attacked; and throwing down his pike and drawing his sword, turned to rush to his assistance; but at this moment two Mexicans threw themselves upon him, his foot slipped in the mud, and in another moment he and his two assailants were rolling down the deep bank into the water.

With a mighty effort, he freed himself from their grasp and, gaining the bank, tried to climb up; but a canoe dashed up alongside, a dozen Mexicans threw themselves upon him, and with a triumphant shout drew him into the boat, which at once paddled off from the scene of conflict.

Roger, as he lay at the bottom of the canoe, felt that all hope was over. He knew that the Aztecs never spared a captive taken in war, and that all who fell into their hands were destined for the altars of their gods. He regretted deeply that he had not fallen in battle; but determined that, at any rate, he would not die tamely; and resolved that, rather than be slaughtered in cold blood on the altar, when the time came, he would offer so desperate a resistance that they would be forced to kill him.

Passing along several canals, the canoe stopped at some stairs. Roger was taken out, and led through a shouting crowd to a great temple, where he was thrust into a prison room, already occupied by several Spaniards. Their numbers increased, until they amounted to twenty.

Few words were spoken among the prisoners. Their arms were free, but their legs firmly secured with ropes; and ten armed Aztecs kept watch over them, to see that they made no attempt to unfasten their bonds.

One of the prisoners Roger saw, to his regret, was his friend Juan. He was severely wounded in several places; as indeed was Roger himself, although in the excitement of the battle he had scarce noticed it.

"Well, lad!" the old soldier said. "This is a bad ending of our gold seeking. Who would have thought that it was to be one's lot, first to be murdered on the altars of a hideous god, and then to furnish a meal to a race of savages?"

"The furnishing the meal does not trouble me," Roger replied. "Whether one is drowned and eaten by fishes, or killed and eaten by Aztecs, makes, as far as I can see, but little difference to one. However, I don't quite make up my mind to the worst yet, Juan. They must have captured a great number of us, for I saw many carried off who are not here; besides a multitude of Tlascalans and our other allies. I do not suppose they will sacrifice us all at once, but are likely to take so many a day. In that case, we may have the luck to be among the last; and before our turn comes, the Spaniards may be masters of the town."

Juan shook his head.

"It is just as well to hope, lad; but I think the chances are next to nothing. Even if Cortez himself gets out safe, and the troops draw off without much further loss, it will be some days before they will attack again, after such a maiming as we got, this time. Even then their chances of success will be no better than they were today; worse, in fact, for we have lost something like a sixth of our force, beside what may have fallen in the attack from the other side; put it at a quarter, altogether. Our natives will be dispirited by their defeat today, and the Aztecs will have gained in confidence.

"By Saint James, but those fellows fight well! Who would have thought, when we saw them bowing and smiling when we first arrived in the city, and submitting so meekly to everything, that they could fight like fiends? Never did I see men so reckless of life.

"Pedro has fallen. I loved him as a son. But far better dead than here."

"I am sorry, indeed, to hear that he has fallen, Juan. I feared that he had, for he would not have let you be captured, had he been alive.

"I don't give up all hope for ourselves. The Mexicans fight like heroes, but in the end we must win, in spite of their valor. Even if we do not take the town by storm, which I don't think we ever should do, if it were provisioned, we shall take it by hunger. They must be well-nigh starving now. In another month there will not be a soul alive in the city.

"You do not think there is any chance of our making our escape?"

"Not unless wings could sprout out from our shoulders," Juan said, "and we could fly through the air. You may be sure these fellows will keep too sharp a lookout upon us to give us the shadow of a chance; besides, if we were to get out, we could not go on foot without being detected.

"You might manage, lad, with a dark night to hide your color, and with the aid of a native dress, for you can speak their tongue; but as for me, the idea is hopeless, and not to be thought of. No, no, lad, I do not delude myself. My time has come; and I shall bear it, I hope, like a man, and a Christian."

From time to time, Aztecs came in to see that the prisoners were safe. From their conversation with the guards, Roger gathered that the attack had everywhere failed, and that the Spaniards had retired to their camps.

Late in the afternoon some priests entered. Two of the prisoners were selected by them, their bonds cut, and they were taken away. Soon afterwards, the sound of the great war drum reverberated through the city.

The Spaniards in their camps started to arms, on hearing the sound; but they were not long in understanding its meaning, for from their camps they beheld a great procession winding up the principal pyramid. Alvarado's camp, which was the nearest to the city, was a short mile away from the temple; and in the clear evening air the troops could see that there were five or six white figures among them.

As usual, the victims were decorated with plumes of feathers, to do honor to their own sacrifice. They were driven along with blows and, when they reached the summit of the temple, were seized and thrown, one by one, upon their backs upon the sacrificial stone, which was convex, so as to give a curve to their bodies. The principal priest then, with a sharp stone knife, cut through the skin and flesh between two of the ribs and, plunging his hand into the orifice, dragged out the heart, which he presented to the figure of the god.

The sight, distant as it was, excited the Spaniards to the verge of madness; and if it had not been for their officers, they would have seized their weapons and rushed forward again to the attack, to avenge the murder of their comrades.

The feelings of the captives, as they heard the sound of the drums, the shouts of the natives, and once or twice caught the scream of agony of their comrades, were terrible. This was the fate that they, too, were to undergo; and men who had, a hundred times, looked death in battle in the face, shuddered and trembled at their approaching doom.

Each day two of their number were taken, and the same terrible scene was gone through. Roger was rather surprised that he himself was not one of the first selected, as his height and figure made him specially conspicuous among his comrades; but he supposed that he was being one of those reserved for some special festival. Whatever the famine might be in the city, the captives were well fed; for it was a point of honor, among the Aztecs, that all victims offered to the gods should be in good health and condition.

The guards were changed every six hours, and on the third day, in the officer over the relief, Roger recognized, to his surprise and delight, his friend Bathalda. The latter, as he entered, made a significant motion to Roger, as he caught his eye, to make no sign that he recognized him.

The Aztecs, as usual, sat down in groups, chatting. They had no fear whatever of the prisoners attempting to escape in the daytime, and it was only at night that they exercised any special vigilance in seeing that they did not attempt to unloose their bonds. Bathalda presently sauntered up into the corner in which Roger was sitting.