into their hands. As soon as the Spanish band had advanced a short distance along the causeway of Tlacopan, the attack began by land and water; for the Indians assaulted them from their boats, with spears and arrows, or quitting their skiffs, grappled with the retreating soldiers in mortal agony, and rolled them from the causeway into the waters of the lake. The bridge was wedged inextricably between the sides of a dyke, whilst ammunition wagons, heavy guns, bales of rich cloths, chests of gold, artillery, and the bodies of men or horses, were piled in heaps on the highway or rolled into the water. Forty-six of the cavalry were cut off and four hundred and fifty of the Christians killed, whilst four thousand of the Indian auxiliaries perished.1 The General's baggage, papers, and minute diary of his adventures, were swallowed in the waters. The ammunition, the artillery, and every musket were lost. Meanwhile Montezuma had perished from his wounds some days before the sortie was attempted, and his body had been delivered to his subjects with suitable honors. Alvarado,—Tonatiuh, the "child of the sun," as the natives delighted to call him, escaped during the noche triste by a miraculous leap with the aid of his lance-staff over a canal, to whose edge he had been pursued by the foe. And when Cortéz, at length, found himself with his thin and battered band, on the heights of Tacuba, west of the city, beyond the borders of the lake, it may be said, without exaggeration, that nothing was left to reassure him but his indomitable heart and the faithful Indian girl whose lips, and perhaps whose counsel, had been so useful in his service.
Table of Contents
CHAPTER V. 1520.
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