CHAPTER LII.
A certain degree of monotony prevails among all the vicissitudes oflife, and even the most exciting events fail, after a time, to interest.A paucity of incidents will not much sooner disgust us with the pages ofhistory, than the most abundant stores of plots and battles, triumphsand defeats, if too liberally dispensed;--for these are composed of thesame elements, and have, on the whole, the same wearisome identity ofcharacter. For this reason, though the many battles fought in thestreets of Mexico, during the seven days which intervened betwixt thesecond coming and the second departure of Cortes, have something in themboth of interest and novelty, we have not dared to recount them in full,nor, indeed, to mention all of them; being satisfied to touch onlysuch, and, in truth, only such parts of such, as, in themselves, haveeach some peculiar variety of characteristic. We pass by, with a word,the increased sufferings of the Christians,--their murmurs andlamentations,--their despair and frenzy.
The day that followed after the fatal victory of the pyramid, broughtits battles like others. That day it became apparent that the last fibrewhich bound hope to the palace wall, was about snapping--it was known toall, that the Indian monarch was expiring. The prediction of Botello hadmade all acquainted with the day on which a retreat might beaccomplished. That day was drawing nigh; but the impatience of thesoldiers, and the anxiety of the officers to prepare, or, at least, toreconnoitre, the path of retreat, again drove them from their quarters.A weak, but well chosen and trusty garrison was left in charge of thepalace; while Don Hernan, with all the forces that could be spared ofhis reduced army, sallied from the court-yard, and fought his way to thedike of Iztapalapan.
In this exploit, new difficulties were to be overcome, and new proofswere exhibited of the sagacity and determination of the barbarians.Besides the obstacles offered by the ditches, robbed of their bridges,the Mexicans had heaped together across the streets, the fragments oftheir demolished houses, thus forming barriers, which were not passedwithout the greatest labour and suffering. Nevertheless, the Spaniardspersevered, and not only gained the causeway, but approached nigh toIztapalapan, before a Tlascalan messenger, creeping in disguise throughthe crowds of enemies, recalled them to the palace, which was furiouslyassailed, and in imminent danger of being carried by storm.
It is not to be supposed, that this attempt on the great dike, and thereturn, were effected without the most bloody opposition. The lakesuddenly swarmed with canoes full of fighting men, and when Don Hernanagain turned his face towards Tenochtitlan, he beheld the causewaycovered with warriors, who, besides disputing his passage withunappeasable rage, broke, as well as they could, the bridges over thesluices, seven in number, wherein were mingled the floods of Chalco andTezcuco. His valour, however, or his good fortune, prevailed; and bynight-fall he reached the square of Axajacatl, and fell with renewedfury upon the savages who still struggled with the garrison. When he hadcarved his way through them, and had directed the exertions of hisunited forces against the besiegers, who still raved, like wolves,around him, he gave some thought to those companions, whose fate it hadbeen, to lay their bodies on the causeway, or to take their rest, withsuch exequies as could be rendered in the lamentations of men expectingeach instant to share their fate, under the salt bosom of Tezcuco.
It became known, that, among these unhappy victims, was the knight ofCalavar,--but how slain, or where entombed, no one could relate. Fromthe day of the loss of his kinsman, he had been reckoned by all,entirely insane. He held communion with none, not even his attendants;but casting aside his abstraction, and resuming his armour, he waspresent in every conflict which ensued, fighting with an ardour, fury,and recklessness, as astonishing as they were maniacal. All that wasremembered of his fate, this day, was, that, when at the farthest partof the causeway the trumpets were ordered to sound a retreat, he wasseen, without attendants, for they were wedged fast in the melee,dashing onwards amid the dusky crowds that came rushing upon the frontfrom the suburbs of Iztapalapan. Cortes had, himself, called to theknight to return, and not doubting that he would extricate himselfwithout aid, had then given all his attention to the Mexicans attackingon the rear. This was known; it was known also that Don Gabriel had notreturned: beyond this, all was mystery and gloom.
Calavar; or, The Knight of The Conquest, A Romance of Mexico Page 54