To one whose perverted imagination can dwell with pleasure on 'the pomp and circumstance of glorious war,' no better study can be recommended than the history of the siege of Mexico, which may be considered as one single battle, lasting for the space of ninety-three days, counting from the time when the different divisions of the besieging army had taken their positions in form, upon the different causeways. This does not include the period occupied in the march of these bodies from Tezcuco, and which was not devoted to inactivity. On the contrary, the Captain-General took advantage of the occasion to discipline his naval force, by sweeping over the lake from bay to bay, and town to town, destroying every piragua that made its appearance, as well as such chinampas, or floating gardens, as he could approach, and frequently by cannonading the imperial city itself. Besides this, he assaulted and took, on each occasion after a most sanguinary combat, certain fortresses upon two island rocks, one of which rose near to Iztapalapan: the other, though no longer insulated, still lies a little to the east of the republican city, and is called the PeÑon, or Crag, of Montezuma. The preparations of the Mexicans were extensive and anticipative of all the peculiar evils which they thought it in the power of their great enemy to inflict. They had cut through the causeways numberless ditches, each of which was furnished with a light bridge, to be withdrawn, when about to fall into the power of the Spaniards; and the earth and stones thus removed, were built up before and behind the chasms, into strong ramparts, which were still further strengthened with palisades. In this manner, while opposing the greatest obstructions to the passage of the foot-soldiers, they made it impossible for horses to be brought against them,—a precaution that, for a long time, robbed the Spaniards of their greatest advantage. The beginning of the siege of Mexico, then, lay in the struggles of the besiegers to obtain possession of the ditches, which were to be filled up, by levelling the ramparts. This was a work both of infinite danger and toil, the besieged fighting from behind the advanced barriers with unexampled resolution, and, however overpowered, never retreating beyond the ditch, until their companions had left but a single plank for their passage, which was immediately afterwards withdrawn. After this, the Spaniards were forced to overturn the first barrier into the chasm, before they could rush across the slough of mud and water, to attack the second; and all this was to be done not only against violent opposition in front, but with a most dangerous and audacious species of annoyance practised on one flank or the other, and sometimes on both. Wherever the shallows admitted, the Mexicans drove into the bottom of the lake, and at but a short distance from the dike, strong piles, to which they secured their canoes, furnished with high and thick bulwarks of planks, almost musket-proof; and from these they drove arrows, darts, and stones against the soldiers with destructive effect. Nay, with such wisdom had the young king of Mexico devised means to embarrass his adversary, that he had even secured his little flotillas from the possibility of approach, by sinking rows of piles in the lake, parallel with the causeways, through which the brigantines could not pass, to disperse them. It was to but little purpose that Cortes battered them from a distance with his falconets; the following morning saw replaced every loss of men and canoes. The soldiers were excited to fury by an annoyance so irritating, and some were found at times frantic enough to leap into the lake, where the waters happened to be sufficiently shallow, and endeavour to carry the flotillas, sword in hand. The narrowness and obstructed condition of the dikes making it impossible that all the forces could act upon them together, the vast multitudes of native allies were left in reserve, with the cavalry, on the shore,—where they were not idle, the numbers, as well as the boldness of the Mexicans being so great, that they frequently sent armies to the shore by night, who, at the dawn, fell upon the reserved troops with all the rancour of opponents in a civil war. This was the condition of the war at its commencement. The grand desiderata,—the removal of the flotillas, and the profitable employment of the confederates, were not effected until Cortes had seized all the piraguas of the shore-towns, and sent them, manned with Tlascalans, against the palisaded posts, where, besides doing what execution they could upon the enemy, the allies tore away the piles, and thus admitted some of the lighter brigantines among the canoes. Aided in this manner, the soldiers were able to advance along the several dikes, until they got possession of certain military stations, on each, which might have been called the gates of Mexico. It has been already said, that the causeways of Iztapalapan and Cojohuacan, coming respectively from the south and southwest, united together at the distance of less than a league from Mexico. At the point of junction, the causeway expanded into a mole or quay, where was a strong and lofty stone wall, the passage through which was contrived by the overlapping of the walls, in the manner described at Tezcuco. This rampart was defended by very strong towers and by a parapet with embrasures, from which the defenders could easily repel any enemy, inferior in strength and determination to the Spaniards. The point was called Xoloc, and when wrested from the hands of the Mexicans, became the head-quarters of Cortes. A similar expansion of the dike of Tacuba, fortified in the same way, and at the distance of two miles from the city, and one from the shore, afforded a resting-place and garrison for the forces under Alvarado, whose first act, after reaching Tacuba, was to destroy the aqueduct of Chapoltepec, which consisted of a double line of baked earthenware pipes, carried across the lake on a dike constructed only for that purpose, and therefore so narrow and inconsiderable, that it does not appear that the Spaniards derived any advantage from the possession of it. The division of De Olid united with that of Sandoval at the point Xoloc; the latter of whom was afterwards directed to take possession of the northern dike of Tepejacac, the remains of which may yet be traced between the city and the hill of Our Lady of Guadalupe, on which was a fortification resembling the others. These positions being thus assumed, the Captain-General divided the fleet of brigantines among the three captains, to whom they were of vast service, by protecting the flanks of their divisions. From this period, the siege may be considered to have been begun in form; and it was continued with a fury of attack and resistance almost without parallel in the history of conquest. Foot by foot, and inch by inch, the invaders advanced, staining the causeways with their blood, and choking the lake with the bodies of their foes. Ditch after ditch was won and filled, and almost as often lost and re-opened. The day was devoted to battle, the night to alarms. The only periods of rest were when the daily tempests, for it was now the heart of the rainy season, burst over the heads of the combatants, as if heaven had sent its floods to efface the horrible dyes of carnage, and its thunders to drown the roar of man's more destructive artillery. Then, the exhausted soldier and the fainting barbarian flung themselves to rest upon the trodden mud of their ramparts, within sight of each other, regardless of the wrath of the elements, so much less enduring than their own. At first, the Spaniards after winning a ditch and filling it, were content to return for the night to the fortified stations, to shelter themselves in the towers, and in miserable huts of reeds which they had constructed, from the rains, that, usually, continued until midnight. But finding that the infidels, more manly or more desperate, devoted the night to repair the losses of the day, by again opening the chasms, they denied themselves even this poor solace, and threw themselves to sleep on the spots where they fought, ready to resume the conflict at the first glimmer of dawn. Thus, day by day, the approaches were effected, and by the end of the second month, the besiegers had advanced almost to the suburbs, which jutted out into the lake along the three causeways, supported upon foundations of piles, and sometimes piers of stone. The houses stood apart from each other, but were connected, in seasons of peace, by light wooden drawbridges, running from terrace to terrace; so that the streets of these quarters may be said to have been on the tops of the houses,—and the same thing was true of the gardens. The communication below was effected always by means of canoes. Among these edifices, the water was often of sufficient depth to float the brigantines of lighter draught, which sometimes entered them, to fire the buildings, that were so many fortresses, from which the soldiers on the causeways could be annoyed. The labours and sufferings of the besiegers were constant, and almost intolerable; yet they endured them with a patience derived from the assurance of a certain though tardy success. The toils and distresses of the Mexicans were greater, and endured with heroism still more noble, because almost without hope; and it may be said with justice of these poor barbarians, whose memory has almost vanished from the earth, that never yet did a people fight for their altars and firesides with greater courage and devotion. They saw themselves each day confined to narrow limits,—they fought the more resolutely; they beheld all the marine forces of the neighbouring towns, late their feudatories, led against them,—they sent navies of their own to chastise the insurgents, and still kept their ground against the Spaniards. It was certain that Cortes had found in the young king an antagonist far more formidable than he had expected. The resistance at the ramparts, the sallies by night that were often made with fatal effect, the secret expeditions against the shores, and the stratagems put in execution to cripple the brigantines, all indicated, in the infidel prince, a capacity of mind worthy of his unconquerable courage. A single exploit will prove his daring and his craft. He decoyed two of the largest brigantines into a certain bay, where many of his strongest piraguas lay in ambush among the reeds. With these, he attacked, boarded, and carried the two vessels, and had he possessed any knowledge of the management of sails, would have conducted them in safety to his palace walls. As it was, they were maintained against an overpowering force, sent to retake them, and not yielded until the captors had destroyed every Christian on board, fifty in number, as well as the sails and cordage, and cast the falconets into the lake. Another stratagem of a still more daring character, and infinitely more fatal to the Spaniards, was conceived and executed, almost at the moment when they thought the young monarch reduced to despair. But of that we shall have occasion to speak more at length hereafter. The thousand conflicts on land and water, that marked the progress of a siege so extraordinary, have but little connexion with the adventures of the two outcasts; and we are glad of the privilege to pass them by. |