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PAGE 37

The Greatest Adventure In History
by [?]

“We must now see how it fared with the other divisions. Alvarado’s men had prospered in their attack, and were steadily advancing toward the marketplace, when, all of a sudden, they found themselves encountered by an immense body of Mexican troops, splendidly accoutred, who threw before them five heads of Spaniards and kept shouting out, ‘Thus we will slay you, as we have slain Malinche and Sandoval, whose heads these are.’ With these words they commenced an attack of such fury, and came so close to hand with the Spaniards, that they could not use their cross-bows, their muskets, or even their swords. One thing, however, was in their favor. The difficulty of their retreat was always greatly enhanced by the number of their allies; but on this occasion, the Tlascalans no sooner saw the bleeding heads and heard the menacing words of the Mexicans, than they cleared themselves off the causeway with all possible speed.

“The Spaniards, therefore, were able to retreat in good order; and their dismay did not take the form of panic, even when they heard, from the summit of the Temple, the tones of that awful drum, made from the skin of serpents, which gave forth the most melancholy sound imaginable, and which was audible at two or three leagues’ distance. This was the signal of sacrifice, and at that moment ten human hearts, the hearts of their companions, were being offered up to the Mexican deities.

“A more dangerous, though not more dreadful sound was now to be heard. This was the blast of a horn sounded by no less a personage than the Mexican King–which signified that his captains were to succeed or die. The mad fury with which the Mexicans now rushed upon the Spaniards was an ‘awful thing’ to see; and the historian, who was present at the scene, writing in his old age, exclaims that, though he cannot describe it, yet, when he comes to think of it, it is as if it were ‘visibly’ before him, so deep was the impression it had made upon his mind.

“But the Spaniards were not raw troops; and terror however great, was not able to overcome their sense of discipline and their duty to each other as comrades. It was in vain that the Mexicans rushed upon them ‘as a conquered thing’; they reached their station, served their cannon steadily–although they had to renew their artillery-men–and maintained their ground.

“The appalling stratagem adopted by the Mexicans–of throwing down before one division of the Spanish army some of the heads of the prisoners they had taken from another division, and shouting that these were the heads of the principal commanders–was pursued with great success. They were thus enabled to discourage Sandoval, and to cause him to retreat with loss toward his quarters. They even tried with success the same stratagem upon Cortes, throwing before his camp, to which he had at last retreated, certain bleeding heads, which they said, were those of ‘Tonatiuh’ (Alvarado), Sandoval, and the other teules. Then it was that Cortes felt more dismay than ever, ‘though,’ says the honest chronicler, who did not like the man, no matter how much he admired the soldier, ‘not in such a manner that those who were with him should perceive in it much weakness.’

“After Sandoval had made good his retreat, he set off, accompanied by a few horsemen, for the camp of Cortes, and had an interview with him, of which the following account is given: ‘O Senor Captain! what is this?’ exclaimed Sandoval; ‘are these the great counsels, and artifices of war which you have always been wont to show us? How has this disaster happened?’ Cortes replied, ‘O Don Sandoval! my sins have permitted this; but I am not so culpable in the business as they may make out, for it is the fault of the Treasurer, Juan de Alderete, whom I charged to fill up that difficult pass where they routed us; but he did not do so, for he is not accustomed to wars, nor to be commanded by superior officers.’ At this point of the conference, the Treasurer himself, who had approached the captains in order to learn Sandoval’s news, exclaimed that it was Cortes himself who was to blame; that he had encouraged his men to go forward; that he had not charged them to fill up the bridges and bad passes–if he had done so, he (the Treasurer) and his company would have done it; and, moreover, that Cortes had not cleared the causeway in time of his Indian allies. Thus they argued and disputed with one another; for hardly any one is generous, in defeat, to those with whom he has acted. Indeed, a generosity of this kind, which will not allow a man to comment severely upon the errors of his comrades in misfortune, is so rare a virtue, that it scarcely seems to belong to this planet.