CHAPTER XX
OTOMIE'S COUNSEL
On the day after the return of Cortes to Mexico, before the hour of
dawn I was awakened from my uneasy slumbers by the whistling cries
of thousands of warriors and the sound of atabals and drums.
Hurrying to my post of outlook on the little pyramid, where Otomie
joined me, I saw that the whole people were gathered for war. So
far as the eye could reach, in square, market place, and street,
they were massed in thousands and tens of thousands. Some were
armed with slings, some with bows and arrows, others with javelins
tipped with copper, and the club set with spikes of obsidian that
is called maqua, and yet others, citizens of the poorer sort, with
stakes hardened in the fire. The bodies of some were covered with
golden coats of mail and mantles of featherwork, and their skulls
protected by painted wooden helms, crested with hair, and fashioned
like the heads of pumas, snakes, or wolves--others wore escaupils,
or coats of quilted cotton, but the most of them were naked except
for a cloth about the loins. On the flat azoteas, or roofs of
houses also, and even on the top of the teocalli of sacrifice, were
bands of men whose part it was to rain missiles into the Spanish
quarters. It was a strange sight to see in that red sunrise, and
one never to be forgotten, as the light flashed from temples and
palace walls, on to the glittering feather garments and gay
banners, the points of countless spears and the armour of the
Spaniards, who hurried to and fro behind their battlements making
ready their defence.
So soon as the sun was up, a priest blew a shrill note upon a
shell, which was answered by a trumpet call from the Spanish
quarters. Then with a shriek of rage the thousands of the Aztecs
rushed to the attack, and the air grew dark with missiles.
Instantly a wavering line of fire and smoke, followed by a sound as
of thunder, broke from the walls of the palace of Axa, and the
charging warriors fell like autumn leaves beneath the cannon and
arquebuss balls of the Christians.
For a moment they wavered and a great groan went up to heaven, but
I saw Guatemoc spring forward, a banner in his hand, and forming up
again they rushed after him. Now they were beneath the wall of the
palace, and the assault began. The Aztecs fought furiously. Time
upon time they strove to climb the wall, piling up the bodies of
the dead to serve them as ladders, and time upon time they were
repulsed with cruel loss. Failing in this, they set themselves to
battering it down with heavy beams, but when the breach was made
and they clustered in it like herded sheep, the cannon opened fire
on them, tearing long lanes through their mass and leaving them
dead by scores. Then they took to the shooting of flaming arrows,
and by this means fired the outworks, but the palace was of stone
and would not burn. Thus for twelve long hours the struggle raged
unceasingly, till the sudden fall of darkness put an end to it, and
the only sight to be seen was the flare of countless torches
carried by those who sought out the dead, and the only sounds to be
heard were the voice of women lamenting, and the groans of the
dying.
On the morrow the fight broke out again at dawn, when Cortes
sallied forth with the greater part of his soldiers, and some
thousands of his Tlascalan allies. At first I thought that he
aimed his attack at Montezuma's palace, and a breath of hope went
through me, since then it might become possible for me to escape in
the confusion. But this was not so, his object being to set fire
to the houses, from the flat roofs of which numberless missiles
were hailed hourly upon his followers. The charge was desperate
and it succeeded, for the Indians could not withstand the shock of
horsemen any more than their naked skins could turn the Spaniards'
steel. Presently scores of houses were in flames, and thick
columns of smoke rolled up like those that float from the mouth of
Popo. But many of those who rode and ran from the gates of Axa did
not come back thither, for the Aztecs clung to the legs of the
horses and dragged their riders away living. That very day these
captives were sacrificed on the altar of Huitzel, and in the sight
of their comrades, and with them a horse was offered up, which had
been taken alive, and was borne and dragged with infinite labour up
the steep sides of the pyramid. Indeed never had the sacrifices
been so many as during these days of combat. All day long the
altars ran red, and all day long the cries of the victims rang in
my ears, as the maddened priests went about their work. For thus
they thought to please the gods who should give them victory over
the Teules.
Even at night the sacrifices continued by the light of the sacred
fires, that from below gave those who wrought them the appearance
of devils flitting through the flames of hell, and inflicting its
torments on the damned, much as they are depicted in the 'Doom'
painting of the resurrection of the dead that is over the chancel
arch in this church of Ditchingham. And hour by hour through the
darkness, a voice called out threats and warnings to the Spaniards,
saying, 'Huitzel is hungry for your blood, ye Teules, ye shall
surely follow where ye have seen your fellows go: the cages are
ready, the knives are sharp, and the irons are hot for the torture.
Prepare, ye Teules, for though ye slay many, ye cannot escape.'
Thus the struggle went on day after day, till thousands of the
Aztecs were dead, and the Spaniards were well nigh worn out with
hunger, war, and wounds, for they could not rest a single hour. At
length one morning, when the assault was at its hottest, Montezuma
himself appeared upon the central tower of the palace, clad in
splendid robes and wearing the diadem. Before him stood heralds
bearing golden wands, and about him were the nobles who attended
him in his captivity, and a guard of Spaniards. He stretched out
his hand, and suddenly the fighting was stayed and a silence fell
upon the place, even the wounded ceased from their groaning. Then
he addressed the multitude. What he said I was too far off to
hear, though I learned its purport afterwards. He prayed his
people to cease from war, for the Spaniards were his friends and
guests and would presently leave the city of Tenoctitlan. When
these cowardly words had passed his lips, a fury took his subjects,
who for long years had worshipped him as a god, and a shriek rent
the air that seemed to say two words only:
'Woman! Traitor!'
Then I saw an arrow rush upwards and strike the emperor, and after
the arrow a shower of stones, so that he fell down there upon the
tower roof.
Now a voice cried, 'We have slain our king. Montezuma is dead,'
and instantly with a dreadful wailing the multitude fled this way
and that, so that presently no living man could be seen where there
had been thousands.
I turned to comfort Otomie, who was watching at my side, and had
seen her royal father fall, and led her weeping into the palace.
Here we met Guatemoc, the prince, and his mien was fierce and wild.
He was fully armed and carried a bow in his hand.
'Is Montezuma dead?' I asked.
'I neither know nor care,' he answered with a savage laugh, then
added:
'Now curse me, Otomie my cousin, for it was my arrow that smote him
down, this king who has become a woman and a traitor, false to his
manhood and his country.'
Then Otomie ceased weeping and answered:
'I cannot curse you, Guatemoc, for the gods have smitten my father
with a madness as you smote him with your arrow, and it is best
that he should die, both for his own sake and for that of his
people. Still, Guatemoc, I am sure of this, that your crime will
not go unpunished, and that in payment for this sacrilege, you
shall yourself come to a shameful death.'
'It may be so,' said Guatemoc, 'but at least I shall not die
betraying my trust;' and he went.
Now I must tell that, as I believed, this was my last day on earth,
for on the morrow my year of godhead expired, and I, Thomas
Wingfield, should be led out to sacrifice. Notwithstanding all the
tumult in the city, the mourning for the dead and the fear that
hung over it like a cloud, the ceremonies of religion and its
feasts were still celebrated strictly, more strictly indeed than
ever before. Thus on this night a festival was held in my honour,
and I must sit at the feast crowned with flowers and surrounded by
my wives, while those nobles who remained alive in the city did me
homage, and with them Cuitlahua, who, if Montezuma were dead, would
now be emperor. It was a dreary meal enough, for I could scarcely
be gay though I strove to drown my woes in drink, and as for the
guests, they had little jollity left in them. Hundreds of their
relatives were dead and with them thousands of the people; the
Spaniards still held their own in the fortress, and that day they
had seen their emperor, who to them was a god, smitten down by one
of their own number, and above all they felt that doom was upon
themselves. What wonder that they were not merry? Indeed no
funeral feast could have been more sad, for flowers and wine and
fair women do not make pleasure, and after all it was a funeral
feast--for me.
At length it came to an end and I fled to my own apartments,
whither my three wives followed me, for Otomie did not come,
calling me most happy and blessed who to-morrow should be with
myself, that is with my own godhead, in heaven. But I did not call
them blessed, for, rising in wrath, I drove them away, saying that
I had but one comfort left, and it was that wherever I might go I
should leave them behind.
Then I cast myself upon the cushions of my bed and mourned in my
fear and bitterness of heart. This was the end of the vengeance
which I had sworn to wreak on de Garcia, that I myself must have my
heart torn from my breast and offered to a devil. Truly Fonseca,
my benefactor, had spoken words of wisdom when he counselled me to
take my fortune and forget my oath. Had I done so, to-day I might
have been my betrothed's husband and happy in her love at home in
peaceful England, instead of what I was, a lost soul in the power
of fiends and about to be offered to a fiend. In the bitterness of
the thought and the extremity of my anguish I wept aloud and prayed
to my Maker that I might be delivered from this cruel death, or at
the least that my sins should be forgiven me, so that to-morrow
night I might rest at peace in heaven.
Thus weeping and praying I sank into a half sleep, and dreamed that
I walked on the hillside near the church path that runs through the
garden of the Lodge at Ditchingham. The whispers of the wind were
in the trees which clothe the bank of the Vineyard Hills, the scent
of the sweet English flowers was in my nostrils and the balmy air
of June blew on my brow. It was night in this dream of mine, and I
thought that the moon shone sweetly on the meadows and the river,
while from every side came the music of the nightingale. But I was
not thinking of these delightful sights and sounds, though they
were present in my mind, for my eyes watched the church path which
goes up the hill at the back of the house, and my heart listened
for a footstep that I longed to hear. Then there came a sound of
singing from beyond the hill, and the words of the song were sad,
for they told of one who had sailed away and returned no more, and
presently between the apple trees I saw a white figure on its
crest. Slowly it came towards me and I knew that it was she for
whom I waited, Lily my beloved. Now she ceased to sing, but drew
on gently and her face seemed very sad. Moreover it was the face
of a woman in middle life, but still most beautiful, more beautiful
indeed than it had been in the bloom of youth. She had reached the
foot of the hill and was turning towards the little garden gate,
when I came forward from the shadow of the trees, and stood before
her. Back she started with a cry of fear, then grew silent and
gazed into my face.
'So changed,' she murmured; 'can it be the same? Thomas, is it you
come back to me from the dead, or is this but a vision?' and slowly
and doubtingly the dream wraith stretched out her arms as though to
clasp me.
Then I awoke. I awoke and lo! before me stood a fair woman clothed
in white, on whom the moonlight shone as in my dream, and her arms
were stretched towards me lovingly.
'It is I, beloved, and no vision,' I cried, springing from my bed
and clasping her to my breast to kiss her. But before my lips
touched hers I saw my error, for she whom I embraced was not Lily
Bozard, my betrothed, but Otomie, princess of the Otomie, who was
called my wife. Then I knew that this was the saddest and the most
bitter of dreams that had been sent to mock me, for all the truth
rushed into my mind. Losing my hold of Otomie, I fell back upon
the bed and groaned aloud, and as I fell I saw the flush of shame
upon her brow and breast. For this woman loved me, and thus my act
and words were an insult to her, who could guess well what prompted
them. Still she spoke gently.
'Pardon me, Teule, I came but to watch and not to waken you. I
came also that I may see you alone before the daybreak, hoping that
I might be of service, or at the least, of comfort to you, for the
end draws near. Say then, in your sleep did you mistake me for
some other woman dearer and fairer than I am, that you would have
embraced me?'
'I dreamed that you were my betrothed whom I love, and who is far
away across the sea,' I answered heavily. 'But enough of love and
such matters. What have I to do with them who go down into
darkness?'
'In truth I cannot tell, Teule, still I have heard wise men say
that if love is to be found anywhere, it is in this same darkness
of death, that is light indeed. Grieve not, for if there is truth
in the faith of which you have told me or in our own, either on
this earth or beyond it, with the eyes of the spirit you will see
your dear before another sun is set, and I pray that you may find
her faithful to you. Tell me now, how much does she love you?
Would SHE have lain by your side on the bed of sacrifice as, had
things gone otherwise between us, Teule, it was my hope to do?'
'No,' I answered, 'it is not the custom of our women to kill
themselves because their husbands chance to die.'
'Perhaps they think it better to live and wed again,' answered
Otomie very quietly, but I saw her eyes flash and her breast heave
in the moonlight as she spoke.
'Enough of this foolish talk,' I said. 'Listen, Otomie; if you had
cared for me truly, surely you would have saved me from this
dreadful doom, or prevailed on Guatemoc to save me. You are
Montezuma's daughter, could you not have brought it about during
all these months that he issued his royal mandate, commanding that
I should be spared?'
'Do you, then, take me for so poor a friend, Teule?' she answered
hotly. 'Know that for all these months, by day and by night, I
have worked and striven to find a means to rescue you. Before he
became a prisoner I importuned my father the emperor, till he
ordered me from his presence. I have sought to bribe the priests,
I have plotted ways of escape, ay, and Guatemoc has helped, for he
loves you. Had it not been for the coming of these accursed
Teules, and the war that they have levied in the city, I had surely
saved you, for a woman's thought leaps far, and can find a path
where none seems possible. But this war has changed everything,
and moreover the star-readers and diviners of auguries have given a
prophecy which seals your fate. For they have prophesied that if
your blood flows, and your heart is offered at the hour of noon to-
morrow on the altar of Tezcat, our people shall be victorious over
the Teules, and utterly destroy them. But if the sacrifice is
celebrated one moment before or after that propitious hour, then
the doom of Tenoctitlan is sealed. Also they have declared that
you must die, not, according to custom, at the Temple of Arms
across the lake, but on the great pyramid before the chief statue
of the god. All this is known throughout the land; thousands of
priests are now offering up prayers that the sacrifice may be
fortunate, and a golden ring has been hung over the stone of
slaughter in such a fashion that the light of the sun must strike
upon the centre of your breast at the very moment of mid-day. For
weeks you have been watched as a jaguar watches its prey, for it
was feared that you would escape to the Teules, and we, your wives,
have been watched also. At this moment there is a triple ring of
guards about the palace, and priests are set without your doors and
beneath the window places. Judge, then, what chance there is of
escape, Teule.'
'Little indeed,' I said, 'and yet I know a road. If I kill myself,
they cannot kill me.'
'Nay,' she answered hastily, 'what shall that avail you? While you
live you may hope, but once dead, you are dead for ever. Also if
you must die, it is best that you should die by the hand of the
priest. Believe me, though the end is horrible,' and she
shuddered, 'it is almost painless, so they say, and very swift.
They will not torture you, that we have saved you, Guatemoc and I,
though at first they wished thus to honour the god more
particularly on this great day.'
'O Teule,' Otomie went on, seating herself by me on the bed, and
taking my hand, 'think no more of these brief terrors, but look
beyond them. Is it so hard a thing to die, and swiftly? We all
must die, to-day, or to-night, or the next day, it matters little
when--and your faith, like ours, teaches that beyond the grave is
endless blessedness. Think then, my friend, to-morrow you will
have passed far from this strife and turmoil; the struggle and the
sorrows and the daily fears for the future that make the soul sick
will be over for you, you will be taken to your peace, where no one
shall disturb you for ever. There you will find that mother whom
you have told me of, and who loved you, and there perhaps one will
join you who loves you better than your mother, mayhap even I may
meet you there, friend,' and she looked up at me strangely. 'The
road that you are doomed to walk is dark indeed, but surely it must
be well-trodden, and there is light shining beyond it. So be a
man, my friend, and do not grieve; rejoice rather that at so early
an age you have done with woes and doubts, and come to the gates of
joy, that you have passed the thorny, unwatered wilderness and see
the smiling lakes and gardens, and among them the temples of your
eternal city.
'And now farewell. We meet no more till the hour of sacrifice, for
we women who masquerade as wives must accompany you to the first
platforms of the temple. Farewell, dear friend, and think upon my
words; whether they are acceptable to you or no, I am sure of this,
that both for the sake of your own honour and because I ask it of
you, you will die bravely as though the eyes of your own people
were watching all.' And bending suddenly, Otomie kissed me on the
forehead gently as a sister might, and was gone.
The curtains swung behind her, but the echoes of her noble words
still dwelt in my heart. Nothing can make man look on death
lovingly, and that awaiting me was one from which the bravest would
shrink, yet I felt that Otomie had spoken truth, and that, terrible
as it seemed, it might prove less terrible than life had shewn
itself to be. An unnatural calm fell upon my soul like some dense
mist upon the face of the ocean. Beneath that mist the waters
might foam, above it the sun might shine, yet around was one grey
peace. In this hour I seemed to stand outside of my earthly self,
and to look on all things with a new sense. The tide of life was
ebbing away from me, the shore of death loomed very near, and I
understood then, as in extreme old age I understand to-day, how
much more part we mortals have in death than in this short accident
of life. I could consider all my past, I could wonder on the
future of my spirit, and even marvel at the gentleness and wisdom
of the Indian woman, who was able to think such thoughts and utter
them.
Well, whatever befell, in one thing I would not disappoint her, I
would die bravely as an Englishman should do, leaving the rest to
God. These barbarians should never say of me that the foreigner
was a coward. Who was I that I should complain? Did not hundreds
of men as good as I was perish daily in yonder square, and without
a murmur? Had not my mother died also at the hand of a murderer?
Was not that unhappy lady, Isabella de Siguenza, walled up alive
because she had been mad enough to love a villain who betrayed her?
The world is full of terrors and sorrows such as mine, who was I
that I should complain?
So I mused on till at length the day dawned, and with the rising
sun rose the clamour of men making ready for battle. For now the
fight raged from day to day, and this was to be one of the most
terrible. But I thought little then of the war between the Aztecs
and the Spaniards, who must prepare myself for the struggle of my
own death that was now at hand.
