cast in the heart of his own capital;—the Spaniards' retreat and slaughter on the "Melancholy Night" (Noche Triste, July 1st, 1520), leaving them in appearance a horde of haggard, famished outlaws, whose thinned and shattered ranks drew tears from even their indomitable chief, whose soul was like a star amid deepest glooms of night,—like the red planet Mars, "the star of the unconquered will,"
Serene, and resolute, and still,
And calm, and self-possessed.
The exciting record of the siege and final surrender of Mexico, despite the dauntless heroism of Guatemozin, closes with the reflection, that not by Spaniards alone was the Conquest achieved, that "the Indian empire was in a manner conquered by Indians," that the Aztec monarchy fell by the hands of its own subjects, under the direction of European sagacity and science. "Had it been united, it might have bidden defiance to the invaders. As it was, the capital was dissevered from the rest of the country; and the bolt, which might have passed off comparatively harmless, had the empire been cemented by a common principle of loyalty and patriotism, now found its way into every crack and crevice of the ill-compacted fabric, and buried it in its own ruins."
Mr. Prescott takes, on the whole, an indulgent view of the character of Cortes. He sums up its features as those of a man mainly distinguished by constancy, not to be daunted by danger, baffled by disappointment, or wearied out by delay—a man avaricious yet liberal, bold to desperation, yet cautious and calculating in his plans, courteous and affable yet inexorably stern, lax in his notions of morality, yet in forms of faith an almost graceless zealot. A true knight-errant, yet a great general—who compelled to unity and submissive action a motley camp of mercenaries,—greedy adventurers, seedy hidalgos, broken-down cavaliers, vagabonds flying from justice, and wild tribes of Indians eager to cut one another's throats. Not a vulgar conqueror[1]—not meanly athirst for gold—not cruel, at least as compared with most of those who followed his iron trade; and, in fine, a chieftain who might, without much violence, have sat for Scott's portrait of Marmion, in those lines which picture a captain "boisterous as March, yet fresh as May," of influence enough to "lead his host from India's fires to Zembla's frost." A very different summing up of the Marquis of the Valley's characteristics is, however, possible; and, it may be, preferable. But an historian usually comes to regard himself as bound by a special retainer in the cause of his hero. Even Mr. Macaulay might incline to find Marlborough sufferable, were he to undertake a biography not too well done by Coxe and Alison.
- ↑ Mr. Prescott insists that whoever would form a just estimate of Cortes, must not confine himself to the history of the Conquest—the Conqueror's subsequent career affording different, and in some respects nobler, points of view for the study of his character—showing him intent on a system of government for the motley and antagonist races brought under Spanish rule, on repairing the mischiefs of war, and on detecting the latent resources of Mexico, and stimulating it to its highest power of production. It is much that the genius of the man does not collapse when the mission of the soldier is fulfilled. It is much that he should recognise not only a time to break down, but also a time to build up.
