and children, too feeble to fight or to fly. For myself, and the brave men around me, we must bare our breasts to the storm, and meet it as we may." water to irrigate the grounds, and was stored with fish. Many of the chiefs of the neighboring cities had assembled here to meet Cortez. They received him with courtesy, with hospitality, but with reserve. He was now but a few miles from the renowned metropolis of Monte idolatry glittered in the sunlight before him. Another night passed away and another morning dawned. It was the 8th of November, 1519. As Cortez approached the city, several hundred Aztec chiefs announced that Montezuma was advancing to welcome him. The glittering train of the Emperor soon ap The Spaniards were now at Amaquemecan. They were lodged in large, commodious stone buildings, with the hospitality which terror ex-zuma, and the turrets of the lofty temples of torted. After a rest of two days, they resumed their march through smiling villages, and waving fields of maize, and innumerable flowers, which the natives cultivated with almost passionate devotion. At last they arrived at Ayotzingo-the Venice of the New World-an important town, built on piles in the waters of Lake Chalco. Gondolas of very tasteful struct-peared. Crowds, which could not be numberure glided through the liquid streets. After a rest of two days, in which the Spaniards requited the hospitality they had received by shooting down in their camp fifteen or twenty of the harmless natives, whom they suspected as spies, the march was continued along the southern shores of Lake Chalco. Clusters of towns, embowered in luxuriant foliage, and crimson with flowers, fringed the lake. The waters were covered with the light boats of the inhabitants gliding in every direction. At last they came to a dike, five miles long, and where but two or three horsemen could ride abreast. In the middle of this causeway, which separated Lake Chalco from Lake Xochicalco, they arrived at the town of Cuitlahuac, which Cortez described as the most beautiful he had yet seen. As the Spaniards advanced, the throng became so immense that Cortez was compelled to resort to threats of violence to force his way. Cortez and his companions were conducted to They arrived at Iztapalapan, a city of fifteen their provided quarters in the imperial city. Corthousand houses, and embellished with public tez found himself and his army abundantly supgardens of vast magnitude, blooming with flow-plied with all comforts in a range of large stone ers of every variety of splendor. An aviary buildings. With vigilance which never slept was filled with birds of gorgeous plumage and he immediately fortified his quarters, and plantsweet song. A vast reservoir of stone contained ed his cannon to sweep every avenue by which ed, thronged the long causeway which led to the island city, and the lake was darkened with boats. Montezuma was accompanied by the highest possible pomp of semi-barbarian etiquette and splendor. He was borne on a palanquin waving with plumes and glittering with gold. As he alighted, obsequious attendants spread carpets for his feet. The monarch was dressed in imperial robes. The soles of his shoes were of gold. Embroidered garments gracefully draped his person, decorated with pearls and precious stones. A rich head-dress of plumes rested upon his ample brow. His countenance was serious and pensive in its expression. He was tall, well formed, and moved with grace and dignity. The Mexican monarch and the proud Spanish marauder met in the studied interchange of all Mexican and Castilian courtesies. THE CITY OF MEXICO AND ENVIRONS. they could be approached. In the evening he decided to let the astounded and appalled capital hear his voice. Several volleys of artillery roared like thunder-peals through the streets of the capital, while dense volumes of suffocating smoke, scarcely moved by the tranquil air, settled down over the city. All hearts in Tenochtitlan— for that was then the name of the Mexican capital-were filled with dismay. Few slept that night. Supernatural beings, with demoniac energies, were in the bosom of the proud metropolis of the ancient Aztecs, and the fate of the empire was doomed. The population of this city was probably about five hundred thouChalco sand. The houses of the common people were small but comfortable cottages, built of reeds or of bricks baked in the sun. The dwellings of the nobles, lining long, spa cious, and well-paved streets, were of stone. was roused by the horrid spectacle of pagan They were extensive on the ground-floor, gen- idols polluted with blood, and they immediately erally but one story high, and surrounded by converted one of the halls of their residence gardens blooming with flowers. Fountains of into a Christian chapel. Here the rites of the cool water, brought through aqueducts of earth- Roman Catholic Church were introduced, and en pipe, played in the court-yards. The police the whole army of Cortez, with soldierly devoregulations were admirable. A thousand per- tion, attended mass every day. Good Father sons were continually employed in sweeping Olmedo, with a clouded mind, but with a sinand watering the streets. So clean were the cere and devout heart, prayed fervently for well-cemented pavements kept, upon which no God's blessing upon his frail creatures of every hoof had trod until the cavalry of Cortez clat-name and nation, Notwithstanding all delutered into the city, that "a man could walk," says one of the Spaniards, "through the streets with as little danger of soiling his feet as his hands." sions and all counterfeits, there is such a thing as spiritual Christianity. So far as man can judge, Father Olmedo was a Christian. Cortez had now been a week in the capital. He was perplexed what step next to take. He was treated with such hospitality that there was no possible ground for war, To remain inactive, merely receiving hospitality, was accomplishing nothing, It was also to be apprehend Day after day was passed in the interchange of visits, and in the careful examination, by Cortez, of the strength and the resources of the city. He, however, never for one moment forgot his great object of converting the heathen. He was truly instant, in season and out of sea-ed that the Mexicans would gradually lose their son, in urging his cause. No hour was deemed inappropriate. But Montezuma manifested no disposition to abandon the cruel idolatry of his fathers. One day the idolatrous monarch led the war-girt, blood-stained propagandist into the shrine of the great god of Mexico. Three human hearts, just cut from their victims, were smoking and almost palpitating upon the altar. The chapel was stained with human gore. The soul of Cortez was roused. Turning to Montezuma, he exclaimed, "How can you, wise and powerful as you are, put trust in such a representative of the Devil, Let me place here the cross, and the image of the blessed Virgin and her Son, and these detestable gods will vanish. Montezuma was shocked, and hurried his irreverent guest away. The zeal of the Spaniards fears, and fall upon the invaders with resistless numbers. In this dilemma the bold Spaniard resolved to seize the person of Montezuma, who was regarded by his subjects with almost religious adoration, and hold him as a hostage. By the commingling of treachery and force he succeeded, and the unhappy monarch found himself a captive in his own capital, in the intrenched camp of the Spaniards. He was magnificently imprisoned. A bodyguard of stern veterans, with all external indications of obsequiousness and homage, watched him by day and by night. The heart sickens at the recital of the outrages inflicted upon this amiable and hospitable prince. Cortez had alleged, as a reason for arresting Montezuma, the senseless pretext that two soldiers of the company left at Vera Cruz had been waylaid by the natives and slain. The Indian governor in whose province the violence had occurred, was sent for by the humiliated and powerless monarch. Obediently he came, with fifteen chiefs. Cortez doomed them all to be burnt alive in the great court of the city. He gathered from the public arsenals the arrows, javelins, and other martial weapons, to form the immense funeral piles. Thus the city was disarmed. While these atrocities were in progress, Cortez entered the presence of his captive, Montezuma, accused him of being an accomplice in the death of the Spaniards, and pitilessly ordered the manacles of a felon to be fastened on his hands and his feet. The cruel fires were then kindled. Thousands gazed with awe upon the appalling spectacle, and the Indian chieftains, without a remonstrance or a groan, were burned to ashes. Step after step of violence succeeded, until Montezuma was humiliated to the dust. The helpless and bewildered monarch was thus compelled, with tears of anguish rolling down his cheeks, to take the oath of allegiance to the King of Spain. Cortez then extorted from him, as presents to the Spanish monarch, more than six millions of dollars in silver and gold. The conquest of Mexico seemed achieved. Six months had now passed since Cortez had landed on the coast. The Governor of Cuba, indignant in view of the haughty assumptions of Cortez, fitted out a strong expedition to take possession of Mexico and bring Cortez home a prisoner for punishment. Cortez was informed that these, his formidable enemies, had landed in the vicinity of Vera Cruz. The indomitable Spaniard, leaving Alvarado in command of the strongly intrenched camp in the heart of the metropolis, took seventy picked men and marched rapidly and secretly to meet his Spanish foes. The journey was long and perilous. He moved with great celerity, gathered some recruits by the way, fell upon the Spaniards by surprise in a midnight attack, in the midst of a black careering tempest, took their commander, Narvaez, sorely wounded, a prisoner; and having compelled the whole body to surrender, induced them all, by munificent presents and persuasive speech, to enlist under his alluring banner. The Spaniards arrived at length at the causeway which led to the city. It was a solitude. No one was there to welcome or to oppose. Fiercely these stern men strode on through the now deserted streets, till they entered into the encampment of their comrades. The insurrection had been excited by a most atrocious massacre on the part of Alvarado. He suspected, but had no proof, that a conspiracy was formed by the Mexican nobles for the extermination of the invaders. He took occasion, while six hundred of the flower of the Mexican nobility were assembled in the performance of some religious rites, in a totally defenseless state, to fall upon them with sword and musket. The massacre was horrible. Not one escaped. This infamous butchery was too much even for the crushed spirit of the natives to endure. Notwithstanding all the terror of horses, steel, and gunpowder, the city rose to arms. Even Cortez was indignant when he heard this story from his lieutenant. "Your conduct," he exclaimed, "has been that of a madman." Cortez had now, with the efficiency of his European weapons of war, truly a formidable force. In the stone buildings which protected and encircled his encampment he could marshal in battle array twelve hundred Spaniards and eight thousand Tlascalans. But all were in danger of perishing from starvation. A terrible battle soon ensued. The Mexicans, roused by despair, came rushing upon the invaders in numbers which could not be counted. Never did mortal men display more bravery than these exasperated Mexicans exhibited struggling for their homes and their rights. But the batteries of the Spaniards mowed them down like grass before the scythe. The conflict was continued late into the hours of the night. The ground was covered with the dead, when darkness and exhaustion for a time stopped the carnage. In the early dawn of the morning the contest was renewed, and was continued with the most demoniac fury by both parties through the whole of another day. The Spaniards fired the city wherever they could. And though the walls of the houses were mostly of stone, the inflam the horrors of conflagration were added to the misery and the blood of the conflict. All the day long the dreadful battle raged. The streets ran red with blood. The natives cheerfully sacrificed a hundred of their own lives to take that of one of their foes. But in the flush of this wonderful victory, the alarming news reached Cortez that a ter-mable interior and roofs caught the flame, and rible insurrection had broken out in the capital; that his troops were besieged and assailed by almost resistless numbers, and that several of his men were already killed and many wounded. Collecting his whole force, now greatly augmented by the accession of the conquered Spaniards with their cavalry and artillery, he Another night darkened over the blood-stained hastened back from Zempoalla to the rescue and smouldering city. The Spaniards were of his beleaguered camp. He had now, with driven back into their fortress, while the nathis strangely-acquired reinforcement, about a tives, in continually increasing numbers, surthousand infantry and a hundred cavalry, be- rounded them, filling the night air with shrieks sides several thousands of the native allies. of defiance and rage. Cortez had displayed By forced marches they pressed along. The the most extraordinary heroism during the pronatives, however, in the region through which tracted strife. His situation now seemed desthey passed, no longer greeted them with cour-perate. Though many thousands of the Mexi tesy, but turned coldly and silently away. cans had been slaughtered during the day, re cruits flocked in so rapidly that their numbers | pusillanimity of the captive King. A shower remained undiminished. Cortez was suffering of stones and arrows fell upon him. Notwithanguish from a sorely wounded hand. His men were utterly exhausted. Large numbers were wounded and many slain. The maddened roar of countless thousands of the fiercest warriors almost deafened the ear. Every moment it was feared that the walls would be scaled, and the inundation of maddened foes pour in resistlessly upon them. In this extremity Cortez appealed to his captive, Montezuma. Cortez was a fearless soldier. He could also stoop to any measures of fraud and perfidy. Assuming the tone of humanity, deploring the awful carnage which had taken place, and affirming his wish to save the nation from utter destruction, he, by such representations, influenced Montezuma to interpose. Reluctantly the amiable, beloved, perplexed monarch at last consented. He was adored by his people. The morning had again dawned. The battle was again renewed with increasing fury. No pen can describe the tumult of this wild war. The yell of countless thousands of assailants, the clang of their trumpets and drums, the clash of arms, the rattle of musketry, and the roar of artillery presented a scene which had never before found a parallel in the New World. standing the efforts of his body-guard of Spaniards to protect him with their bucklers, a stone struck his temple which brought him senseless to the ground, and three javelins pierced his flesh. The wounded monarch was conveyed to his apartment, crushed in spirit, and utterly broken-hearted. He firmly refused to live. He tore the bandages from his wounds and would take no nourishment. Silent, and brooding over his terrible calamities, he sat the picture of dejection and woe for a few days, until he died. In the mean time the battle was resumed with all its fury. All the day long it continued without intermission. The wretched city was the crater of a volcano where a demoniac strife was raging. The energies of both parties seemed to redouble with despair. At last another night spread its vail over the infuriated combatants. In the darkest watches of midnight the Spaniards made a sortie and set three hundred buildings in flames. The lurid fire, crackling to the skies, illumined the tranquil lake, and gleamed upon the most distant villages in the vast mountain-girdled valley. The tumult of the midnight assault, the shrieks of women and children, and the groans of the wounded and the dying, blended with the roar of the confla Suddenly all was hushed as the venerated Emperor, dressed in his imperial robes, ap-gration. peared upon the wall, and waved his hand to Cortez now summoned the chiefs to a parley. command the attention of his people. For a He stood upon the wall. The beautiful Marina, few moments they listened patiently to his ap- as interpreter, stood at his side. The Mexican peal. But as he plead for the detested Span-chiefs were upon the ground before him. The iards their indignation burst all bounds. One inflexible and merciless Spaniard endeavored ventured to assail him with an exclamation of to intimidate them by threats. reproach and contempt. It was the signal for a universal outbreak of vituperation against the "If you do not immediately submit," said he, "I will lay the whole city in ashes, and every man, woman, and child shall be put to the sword." They answered defiantly: "The bridges are broken down, and you can not escape. You have better weapons of war, but we have greater numbers. If we must offer a thousand lives for one, we will continue the battle till you are destroyed." Saying this, they gave the signal for attack, and a storm of arrows and javelins darkened the sky and fell into the beleaguered fortress. Notwithstanding the bold tone assumed by Cortez the Spaniards were in great dismay. A mutiny now broke out in the camp. They murmured bitterly, and demanded permission to cut their way through their foes and escape from the city. The extraordinary energies of this iron fanatic still remained unshaken. Calmly he reflected upon his position, examined his resources, and formed his plans. He immediately constructed moving forts or towers to be pushed through the streets on wheels, under the protection of which his soldiers could make every bullet accomplish its mission. A platform on the top could be let down, affording a bridge to the roofs of the houses. The army thus commenced its perilous march through the smoking, gory streets. Every inch of the way was contested. The advance was slow but resistless, the cannon and the musketry sweeping down all obstacles. At last they arrived at one of the numerous canals which every where intersected the city. The bridge was destroyed, and the deep waters of the canal cut off all retreat. Planting the cannon so as to keep the natives at bay, every available hand was employed in filling the chasm with stones and timber torn from the ruined city. Still stones, arrows, and javelins fell thickly among the workmen. For two days this terrific strife raged. Sev. en canals the Spaniards were thus compelled to bridge. But the natives could present no effectual resistance. The Spaniards advance sternly over the mutilated bodies of the dying and of the dead. Still, at the close of this day the condition of the Spaniards was more desperate than ever. As the gloom of night again descended, a deeper, heavier gloom rested upon the hearts of all in the Spanish camp. A wailing storm arose of wind and rain, and nature moaned and wept as if in sympathy with the woes of man. An immediate retreat was decided upon. At midnight all were on the march. In the darkness and the storm they passed through the warscathed streets of the city without opposition. But when they reached one of the long causeways, two miles in length and but twenty feet wide, which connected the island city with the main-land, they found the lake alive with the fleets of the natives, and the Spaniards were assailed on both sides by swarming multitudes who, in the fierce and maddened strife, set all danger at defiance. War never exhibited a more demoniac aspect. There were three chasms in the causeway, broken by the Mexicans, which the Spaniards, in the darkness and assailed by innumerable foes, were compelled to bridge. The imagination can not compass the horrors of that night. When the first gray of the lurid morning dawned, the whole length of the causeway was covered with the bodies of the slain. The chasms were clogged up with the fragments of artillery, baggage wagons, dead horses, and the corpses of Spaniards and natives with features distorted by all the hateful passions of the strife. A few only had escaped. Nearly all the horses, all the plundered gold, all the baggage |