Calavar; or, The Knight of The Conquest, A Romance of Mexico

by Robert Montgomery Bird

  CONCLUSION.

  Of the secondary characters of this history, enough has been alreadynarrated. Our respect, however, for the memory of the magician, Botello,requires that we should mention two circumstances in relation to hisfate, and his chief and most mystical familiar. His unexpected death,instead of destroying his credit among those who survived the NocheTriste, gave him additional claims to respect, even in the grave; forwhen it was remembered, that the arrows which slew so many Spaniards,were adorned with the feathers of eagles, as well as other birds ofprey, they perceived, in his fate, only a confirmation of the jugglingsubtlety of the fiends that 'palter with us in a double sense.' "Truly,"said they, "Botello was borne out of danger on the wings of eagles, ashe prophesied, albeit he was borne to heaven." In after days, whenMexico had become the prey of the invader, the lake was dragged for thebones of the Christians who had fallen with him in the nocturnalretreat, which were then deposited, with many religious ceremonies, inground consecrated for the purpose. In the last ditch, at the very spotwhere Botello had fallen, a fortunate fisherman hooked up the magicCrystal, the prison of Kalidon-Sadabath; who, greatly to the horror ofthe finder, began instantly, as of old, to dance, and curvet, andperform other diabolical antics, in his hands. No other conjurer in thearmy having the skill to interpret the motions of this mysterious imp,his crystal habitation was transmitted, along with divers Mexicanrarities, to the shelves of the Escurial, where it was long viewed withwonder and respect, as an instrument contrived by the hands, and devotedto its unearthly uses by the skill, of the celebrated Cornelius Agrippa.A philosopher, who was thought, as was Feyjoo in later days, by hiscountrymen, to have too little consideration for vulgar prejudices,asserted, after attentive examination, that the marvellous crystal wasnothing more than a piece of glass, hollowed by the maker into manysingular cavities, wherein was deposited a coloured drop of somevolatile liquor, which being, at any time, expanded by the heat of thebreath, or of the hand, would instantly dart about, and assume the mostfantastic shapes, according to the sinuous vacuities through which ithappened to be impelled. This explanation was received with incredulity;but, nevertheless, Kalidon of the Crystal was treated with neglect, and,in course of time, entirely forgotten. We surmise, however, and theconjecture is not without argument, that the Enchanted Crystal,presented, half a century afterwards, by the angel Uriel to the famousEnglish conjurer, Doctor Dee, was no other than this identical stone,filched by the angelic thief from its dusty repository, and given to himwho best knew how to put it to its proper uses.

  * * * * *

  Late in the autumn of the following year, the senor Don Amador de Lestesat watching the sunset of a peaceful day, from a little bower, on alawn in front of his castle Del Alcornoque. A clump of aged oaks flungtheir branches over a low, square, and mouldering tower,--the work ofthe Moorish masters of Spain many a long year back, and a fragment, asit seemed, of some ancient bath or fountain; for a body of pure waterstill made its way through the disjointed stones, and fell bubbling intoa little basin beneath.

  The scene, as beheld from this spot, was one of enchanting beauty andrepose. The fountain was, perhaps, midway on the slope of a long hill, afew rods in advance of the castle, (with which it was, indeed, connectedby a somewhat neglected walk of orange trees,) whose irregular turretsand frowning battlements rose among groups of cork-trees, while a brokenforest of these, extended behind, up to and over the crest of the hill.In front, the little valley, wherein was embosomed the silvery Jucar,was bounded now by sharp cliffs and jutting promontories, and now bygreen lawns, which ran sweeping upwards to the hill-tops on the oppositeside. A hazy, smoky atmosphere, warmed into lustre by the sinkingluminary, while it mellowed all objects into beauty, did not concealfrom the eye the flocks of sheep which dotted the distant slopes, thecattle standing at the river-side, and the groups of peasantry, whoadding their songs to the lowing of the herds and the cawing of a flightof crows, urged forward the burthened ass from the vine-tree. Amonastery rose in the forest, a little village glimmered pleasantly onthe river bank, under the shadow of a cliff; and over the ridges, whichshut in the valley to the south, was seen the dim outline of thosesierras of Morena, from which might be traced the peaks of theAlpujarras.

  Over this fair prospect, the young cavalier looked with pride, for itwas the inheritance handed down to him by a long line of ancestors,--notsnatched away by violence from vanquished Moors, but reclaimed from themby a bold knight, whose genealogical tree had been rooted in thosehills, before Tarik, the Arab, had yet looked upon the Pillars ofHercules. He gazed on it also with joy, for he had learned to lovepeace; and this seemed the chosen abode of tranquillity.

  "It doth indeed appear to me, _now_," he muttered, "as if my past lifewere a foolish dream. There is a rapture in this quiet nook, a happinessin this prospect of loveliness and content, entirely beyond any pleasurewhich I ever experienced in my days of tumult and fame. What can therebe, to add a further charm to this paradise?"

  Perhaps he muttered this interrogatory in the spirit of an improver andadorner of nature.--It was answered by the fall of a gentle footstep. Helooked behind him, and beheld, standing at his back, pausing a momentwith patient and yet dignified affection, the fair figure of a woman,who had no sooner caught his eye, than she smiled, and pointed to afemale attendant, who bore in her arms, hard by, a sleeping infant. Across of rubies glittered on the lady's breast.

  "If thou didst apprehend, Leila!" said the cavalier, with eyes of joy,"that I reckoned this hill-side a paradise, without thinking of thyselfand my young Gabriel, thou didst most grievously wrong me; for I protestto thee, I never cease thinking of ye."

  "Never?" murmured the mild voice of the Moorish lady: "Heaven bepraised!--But, sometimes, when thou lookest upon the sports of ourlittle brother Rosario, it seems to me, thou dost forget us."

  "I vow to thee, my honoured and beloved lady," said the hidalgo,earnestly, "and, if thou wilt believe me the rather for that, I swear bythe bright eyes of my young boy, that, since I discovered thou wertalive, and, especially, since thou hast been mine own Zayda, I have cometo look with new eyes upon those things, which were the joys of myyouth. Let us sit down upon this mossy stone; and, while we gaze alittle upon Rosario, who, thou seest, is hacking the wooden Turk's-headon the knoll--Thou knowest, he did so gash my young plantations ofolive-trees, that I was enforced to allow him this block, for hisrecreation----While we thus regard him, (for, of a truth, he is a mostgallant boy, and of soldierly bearing,) I will discourse to thee in suchmanner, as to convince thee that I have utterly weeded from my bosom thefoul plants of ambition, and that I am equally solicitous to cleanse thebreast of my brother.--Hah! by my faith, what now?--Seest thou yonderill-looking, lurking knave? I doubt me, he has been robbing myvineyard.--May I die, but the young varlet doth advance his swordagainst him! Well done, sir Hector!--And he knows not I am near, to givehim aidance!--What ho, sirrah Rosario! put up thy sword--This is norobber."

  "It is a pilgrim--some poor pilgrim," exclaimed the lady:--"Rosariogives him his hand, and leads him towards us."

  It was even as the fair Dona had said. The youth Rosario, who had, atfirst, advanced valiantly towards the stranger, as if to question hisright to walk so near the castle, was now seen to sink his weapon, speaka word or two to the comer, and then give him his hand, as if to conducthim to the cavalier.

  As they approached, Don Amador could perceive that the stranger hadrobed his figure in a cloak of the humblest texture; he was barefooted;he held a staff in his hand; and his great slouched hat was adorned withscallop-shells. He seemed a palmer, who had performed a long and painfulpilgrimage; for, though obviously a young man, his frame was wasted, hisbeard long and haggard, and his cheeks were very thin and pale.

  "By my faith," said Don Amador, "this palmer hath speedily won the heartof my brother; for, thou seest, Rosario doth look into his face, asthough he had got him the hand of some great knight from Judea.--Iwelcome you with peace and good-will,
senor pilgrim; and my gates areopen to you.--Art thou from Compostella or Loretto? Or, perhaps, thoucomest even from the Holy Land?"

  While the cavalier spoke, the Moorish lady surveyed the features of thepilgrim with a surprise and agitation which drew the attention of DonAmador; but before he could speak, the pilgrim replied:

  "Not from the Holy Land, but from a land accurst,--from death and thegrave, from the depths of the heathen lake and the maws of Mexicans----"

  At these words, the lady screamed, and Don Amador himself startedaghast, as he listened to the voice of the speaker.

  "In the name of God, amen!" he cried, recoiling a step; "I know thyvoice, and I saw thee perish!"

  "Pardon me, noble patron!" said the pilgrim, hastily; "I spoke but infigures; and therein I spoke not amiss, since I perceived that my noblelord looked upon me as one that was dead. Alas, senor, I live--I amyour honour's poor ward and secretary, Fabueno."

  "Fabueno!" cried the cavalier, recovering himself a little: "If thoulivest, thou liest; for Lorenzo is dead!"

  "Hast thou been lying, then, thou knave?" cried Rosario, with muchindignation. "I will knock the cockles from thy cap; for thou saidst,thou hadst fought with the great Cortes, among the Indians!"

  "Alas, senor!" cried Lorenzo, "will you still think me dead? Have sorrowand misery so changed me, that your noble goodness cannot see, in thisbroken frame and this withered visage, your poor follower, Fabueno?"

  "By my troth, I am amazed! This hand is flesh and blood; this darkenedbrow and weeping eye--Pho! Look upon him, Zayda!--Thou livest,then?--God be praised! And thou sheddest tears, too? Never believe me,but I am rejoiced to see thee; and thou shalt dwell with me, till thydying day--Heaven be thanked!--By what miracle wert thou revived, afterbeing both killed and drowned? I'faith, thou didst greatly shock mylady.--'Tis wondrous, how soon she knew thee!"

  "Knew me?" exclaimed the secretary, gazing with a bewildered eye uponthe lady.

  "Why, dost thou forget," cried the cavalier, catching the hand of Leila,over whose brow a faint colour rose at the remembrance,--"dost thouforget my dear and beloved page, Jacinto?"

  "Alas, madam," said Lorenzo, bending to the earth, "nothing but myconfusion could have made me so blind; and this is more wondrous, too,since his excellency, Don Hernan, had made me acquainted with thehappiness of my lord."

  "Speakest thou of Don Hernan?" cried the cavalier. "By my troth, I havean hundred thousand questions to ask thee; and I know not which todemand first. But thine own reappearance is so marvellous, that I mustfirst question thee of that; and, afterward, thou shall speak to me ofDon Hernan. How wert thou fished up?"

  "Fished up, senor!" said Lorenzo, sadly; "I know not well what yourfavour means. At that moment of distraction and horror," he went on,with a shudder, "when I called to you for succour----"

  "I heard you," said Amador, "and I ran to your assistance,--but, heavenforgive me! I cursed the act afterwards, when I discovered that it hadlost me my poor Jacinto. Ah, senora mia! was there ever so dreadful anight?"

  "When I called," continued Fabueno, "I was then beset by the infidels.The princess--the poor princess, was slain in my arms, and my horsespeared under me, so that we fell to the earth. Senor, I know not wellwhat happened to me, then, for my mind fled from me: I only remember,that, as they flung me into a canoe, there came a cavalier, the valiantDon Francisco de Saucedo, as I found by his voice, to my assistance,shouting aloud. I think, he was slain on the spot; for I heard aplunging in the water, as if his horse had fallen into the lake."

  "It was he, then," said Don Amador, "whom I saw sink so miserably intothe flood! Heaven give him rest!--I thought it was thyself."

  "Senor," continued the secretary, "I will not weary you, now, with allthe particulars of my sorrow. When heaven restored me my reason, I foundmyself lying in a wicker den,--a cage of victims,--in the temple yard,under the pyramid; and I knew that I was saved, only to be made asacrifice."

  "Heaven forefend!" cried Amador, while Zayda grew white with horror.

  "I tell you the truth, senor," said Fabueno, trembling in every limb."There were more than thirty such cages around me, and in every one awounded Spaniard, as I could both hear and see; and every day, there wasone dragged out by the priests, and immolated.--I could hear their yellsfrom the temple top.--Senor, these things drove me into a delirium,which must have lasted long; for when I came again to my wits, I lookedout, and saw that the cages were empty--all but _one_. Then, I beheldthe priests come to mine own dungeon, and debate over me. I tried topray--but, in my fear, I swooned. When I looked forth again, they weredragging away my fellow-prisoner.--I knew that I should die upon themorrow.--That night, I fell into a frenzy, and with my teeth (for myarms were bound behind me,) I gnawed away the wooden bars of my cage.Heaven helped me! God gave me strength! and St. James, to whom I cried,sharpened my teeth as though they were edged with iron! So, by thismiracle, I escaped; and, bound as I was, and beaten to the earth by atempest which raved over the lake, I made my way, I know not how, by acauseway that lies to the north, until I had reached the shore of thelake. I hid me, by day, in groves and in marshes, and when the nightcame, I journeyed onward, though I knew not whither. What sufferings Iendured from hunger and thirst, I will not weary you by recounting. Minearms were still bound behind me; and when it was my good fortune to finda field of green maize, I could only seize upon the ears, like a beast,with my teeth. I strove, by rolling upon the earth, and rubbing againsttrees, to get rid of the thongs, but all in vain. This maddened me; andI thought that heaven had deserted me. But the good St. James showed me,one day, a place where the Indians had made a fire. I rekindled it withmy breath, and when it began to blaze, I prayed and held my arms in theflames, until the green withes, wherewith I was bound, were burnedasunder."

  "Good heaven!" cried Amador, starling from the stone on which he hadseated himself, while Zayda bent forward, as if to snatch the poor youthfrom the flames, which still burned in her imagination;--"didst thousuffer all this horrible combustion? Or, perhaps, heaven vouchsafed theea miracle, and scorched away the cords, without suffering the fire todo thee harm?"

  "Had I been there," said Rosario, doughtily, "I would have cut thethongs with my sword; and, then, I would have killed the bitter pagansthat wronged thee!"

  "The miracle whereby I escaped from the cage, was more than my sinsdeserved," said the secretary, bending his head upon his bosom, andspeaking with an agitated voice. "Heaven took not the pangs from thefire, but it gave me strength to bear them. I am here again, restored tomy native land, and among Christian men--but mine arms are withered."

  "Were they hacked off at the shoulders," cried Amador, ardently, "ay,and thy legs into the bargain, yet will I so entertain thee here in mycastle, that thou shall cease to lament them."

  "Nay," said the youth, looking with gratitude on the cavalier, "'tis notso bad as that, as my lord may see; for, though I may never more bearsword, yet I can carry the pilgrim's staff--ay, and I can raise them tomy cheek, to brush away my thanks.--I have yet strength enough left towield a pen; and, if my noble patron----"

  "Speak no more of this, good Lorenzo," said the Moorish lady, quicklyand kindly. "My lord hath told thee thou art welcome; and I say to theealso, thou art very welcome."

  "By my troth, _I_ say so too," cried Rosario. "But after all, thou wiltbe but pitiful, if thou hast not strength left to handle a sword. Ihoped you should teach me a little; for old Baltasar is grum andcrusty."

  "Peace, Hector! what art thou talking about?" said Don Amador.--"Thinkno more of thy misfortune, Lorenzo; but give me to know the rest of thyadventures."

  "They are spoken in a word," said the secretary. "When mine arms werefreed, though so dreadfully scorched, I could travel with more peace ofmind. I doubted not, that all the Christians had been slain on thelake; yet, I thought, if I could but reach the sea-coast, I might be,sometime, snatched out of the hands of the barbarians. Nevertheless,this hope deserted me, when I perceived that the land was covered withpeople;
and, one day, finding a cave among the mountains, hard by to awater-fall, with a wooden cross stuck up at the mouth----"

  "Surely," said Zayda, "this was the cavern, wherein I found my lord, DonGabriel."

  "I doubt it not, noble lady," said Fabueno, "but this I knew not then. Ithought it was a retreat provided for me by the good St. James, whowilled that there I should pass my life, under the shadow of that littlecrucifix. So there did I hide me, and, feeding upon roots and suchliving creatures as I could entrap, I remained in my hermitage a fullyear; until, one day, I heard a trumpet sounding at the bottom of themountain; and running out in wonder, I beheld--thanks be to heaven! Ibeheld a company of Spanish soldiers marching up the hill. By these men,I was carried to Mexico, which was now fallen----"

  "Fallen, say'st thou?" cried Amador. "Is the infidel city fallen?"

  "Not the city only, but the empire," replied Fabueno; "and Cortes is nowthe lord of the great valley."

  "Thou shalt tell me of its fate; but first thou must rest and eat.--Iremember me now of the words of Cortes."

  "His excellency," said Lorenzo, "commanded me to bear to your favourthis little jewel, in token that he has made good a certain vaunt whichhe made you in Tlascala--the same being an emerald from the crown ofQuauhtimotzin, the king."

  "Hah! my valiant ambassador at Tlascala? Hath he been the emperor?"

  "And to your noble lady, he craves permission to present this chain ofgold, the manufacture of Mexican artists, since Mexico has become aSpanish city."

  "It is enough," said the cavalier; "I perceive that his genius istriumphant. I would that I might bear this news to his father, DonMartin, as I did the relation of his disasters. But come; let us retire.Why hast thou on these palmer weeds?"

  "I vowed to St. James, on the mountains of Mexico, in my great misery,that, if his good favour and protection should ever bless mine eyes withthe sight of Christian man, I would make a pilgrimage, barefoot, to hisholy shrine at Compostella. This it has been my good fortune already toaccomplish, our ship having been driven, by a storm, into a port ofGallicia. Not thinking this penance enough for my sins, I resolved tocontinue my pains, and neither doff my pilgrim's cap, nor do on myshoes, until I had reached your favour's castle of the Cork-tree."

  "I welcome thee to it, again, and for thy life; and I congratulate thee,that thou art relieved of the love of war; wherein, thou wilt find, Ihave somewhat preceded thee. Enter, and be at peace.--When thou artrested a little, I shall desire of thee to speak,--for very impatient amI to know,--what circumstances of marvel and renown, of romance andchivalry, have distinguished the last days of Tenochtitlan."