theatre of performance for which his whole nature had been craving. He was called into action at a period most opportune for his ambition. Hitherto, the result of Spanish discovery in the new world, had failed of its expected fruits. The predictions and hopes of Columbus had been verified in part only. The ocean had been disarmed of its terrors,― the gates of the Atlantic had been rolled back, never again to close, a new world had been given to the empires of Castile and Leon, but the more worldly appetites of the discoverers remained in a great degree ungratified. The fruits of adventure had not recompensed the voyagers. The crown had not realized its outfit. The possessions were barren. Instead of the precious metals and minerals, the drugs and spices, the gems and treasures of the golden Chersonesus, which had been liberally promised by the hopeful imagination of Columbus, a few small and comparatively unproductive islands, in a waste ocean, dependencies of sea and sky alone, were all that he yielded, in confirmation of his dreams and theirs, to the royal sovereigns whom he represented. He took from the gold of the sceptre, in the extension of its sway. He himself never knew the extent and importance of his own discoveries. Within a stone's throw of Yucatan, he veered about capriciously, as if under the wing of a mocking fortune, like another prophet, not permitted to set foot in the Canaan to which he had pointed out the way for his people. Some glimpses of the wonders of Mexican civilization, were all that was vouchsafed him, in his last disastrous voyage. He picked up a canoe of unusual size, while on the upper coast of Guatemala, in which were found cotton coverlets, tunics without sleeves, mantles, coverings for the loins,-garments of happy fashion and exquisite texture, wrought with nice skill and delicately dyed in various colors. There were other commodities, weapons of war, choice viands, wines and fruits and instruments of copper. The great results enured to other men. They penetrated the same waters, and finally made the discovery of Yucatan,—a realm of immense population, filled with cities of equal wealth and pomp and magnitude. But their discoveries bore no fruits corresponding with the promise which they held out to enterprize. The eager avarice, the yearning ambition of the Spaniard, groans with the very impatience of desire at the new prospect. Diego Velasquez, the Governor of Cuba, a man of whom we have already VOL. VI. NO. 11.

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spoken, as mean, avaricious and inconstant, dazzled with the golden and other ornaments which had been plucked from the shrines of false gods in Yucatan, prepared to attempt the conquest of that country. A small armament was sent forth, which did not succeed to his desires. His captains did not obey his wishes. Another was prepared, and the command of it was finally given, though slowly and with many misgivings, to his brother-in-law, our farmer, merchanthero, Hernan Cortés. Appointed to this command, Cortés entered upon his tasks with all the energies of his nature. He yielded his whole fortune to the adventure, he contracted debt in the more earnest prosecution of his work. The enterprize in his hands became popular. Men flocked from the standards of other and long-practised leaders, to follow under his. The dignity, resolution, skill, judgment, with which he proceeded, now alarmed the fears and suspicions of Velasquez. The popularity which he suddenly seemed to acquire, was itself an annoyance. Even the employment of his own wealth in the adventure, prompted the capricious governor to apprehend that Cortés designed to make it entirely his own, and cut him off from his share of the profits. The admirable energies put in requisition by our hero, confirmed this fear; and there were not wanting those to whisper in his ears such doubts and suspicions of his captain, as strengthened all his own. Besides, it was remarked that a wonderful change of air and manner, had suddenly taken place in our hero. It seemed as though his soul had risen into the consciousness of a new strength. There was a serious elevation of bearing,-a massive and noble-looking loftiness, now distinguishing his deportment, that amply spoke for high and hopeful purposes. Whatever might have been the levities and frivolities of his character before, these immediately gave way to a conduct such as might well become a consciousness of the great achievements which he was about to execute. He was no longer the mere tradesman, chaffering in the thoroughfare, no longer the plodding farmer, tenacious of his petty cares and sovereignty. Velasquez saw in his newly-assumed carriage, a spirit too strong for his control,-too independent and too inflexible, to submit patiently to the will of an inferior. Weak and irresolute himself, he trembled for his share in the enterprize, and heartily repenting of the trust confided to Cortés, he determined to withdraw from him its command. But this

was not so easy of execution as resolve. While hesitating, not daring to proceed openly, dreading a rupture with a person equally adroit and popular, Cortés saw into the secret misgivings and purpose of his narrow and apprehensive spirit. He was, perhaps, apprized of it by others, for he had friends on every side. His resolves were prompt and decisive of his character. He suddenly set sail for the port of St. Iago, contenting himself with a courteous but distant salute to the governor, who watched his progress at some distance from the shore. The latter had not anticipated this proceeding, or his own might have been more prompt. He knew that the preparations of Cortés were far from complete, and fancied that he should have sufficient time at any moment to arrest him. But the jealousy which waits upon time, is apt always to lose the occasion, and he who deals with rival or suspect, must never postpone performance till the sunlight. Of the various attempts made by Velasquez to defeat the enterprize, or, at least, to deprive Cortés of all participation in it, details are unnecessary. They were equally ungenerous and unsuccessful, and Cortés seems to be wholly justified in the opinions of the moralist, in finally throwing off all connection with his brother-in-law. His keen vigilance, resolute character, and, we may add, his favoring fortune, enabled him to baffle all the efforts of his enemy, and these were continued with equal pertinacity and spite, long after our hero had won his way to the city of Montezuma. Some of these efforts may command our more particular notice hereafter. Enough, however, that, in defiance of strifes on shore and storms at sea, we find the fleet of Cortés, early in the year 1519, safely moored at the appointed rendezvous at the island of Cozumel. Of this place, which is now deserted, the reader will find some interesting particulars, in the late work of Mr. Stephens on the antiquities of Yucatan.

Thus, then, at the age of thirty-three, Cortés stood on the threshold of his great career. We have spoken of his physique and personal appearance,-of his great vigor and clasticity of frame,-of his pleasing countenance, and the general attractiveness of his bearing. It remains to say, that he excelled in fencing, horsemanship, and all other of the military and chivalrous exercises of the age. He was temperate, indifferent to what he ate, regardless of privation, capable of enduring any toils in common with the meanest footsoldier. He was not heedless of the impression produced

by fitting costume, and wore ornaments, which were usually more remarkable for their richness and value than their show.

His armament consisted of eleven ships, under as many captains. On the 10th February, 1519, he reviewed his forces at Cape St. Antonio. "They amounted to one hundred and ten mariners, five hundred and fifty-three soldiers, including thirty-two cross-bowmen, and thirteen arquebusiers, besides two hundred Indians of the island, and a few Indian women for menial offices. He was provided with ten heavy guns, four lighter pieces called falconets, and a good supply of ammunition. He had besides sixteen horses." With this force did this great man enter upon the conquest of the magnificent, the strong, the warlike and numerous people of Tenochtitlan, and the contiguous nations. His review was closed with a speech, almost the only speech on record, of a great warrior, the promises of which were amply verified by the result. He told them, just as if he had himself beheld it all, of the extent, the danger, the glory of the enterprize in which they were about to engage. He was about to lead them, he said, to countries more vast and opulent than any they had known, and the conquest of which must make them famous to all succeeding ages. "But," said he, "these are to be won only by incessant toil. Great things are achieved only by great exertions. Glory was never the reward of sloth. If I have laboured hard and staked my all in this undertaking, it is for that renown which is the noblest recompense of man. But, if any among you court riches more, be but true to me, as I will be to you and to the occasion, and I will make you masters of more than Spain has ever dreamed of. You are few in number, but strong in resolution. If this does not falter, doubt not that God, who has never failed the Spaniard in his battle with the infidel, will shield you, though encompassed by a cloud of enemies. Your cause is just-you fight under the banner of the Cross. On, then, with alacrity and confidence, and carry to a glorious issue the work so auspiciously begun."

At Cozumel, Cortés soon proved to his soldiers, that, while he disdained to follow in the steps of other cavaliers, so also did he reject many of their practices. One of his captains, arriving at the island first, displayed the red hand to the natives, drove them from their homes, and despoiled their temples. Cortés rebuked his follower, restored the

spoils, and succeeded in recalling the Indians to their homes, and converting them, after the fashion of the time, to the faith of Christ. Their uncouth idols, tumbled from their teocallis, made way for the Virgin and the Child. Here, Cortés was fortunate in recovering a Spaniard who had been captured by the Indians in a previous expedition, who had acquired the Maya language, and was thus of great importance to the intercourse carried on with the natives of Yucatan. He had been eight years in captivity. Cortés proceeded from Cozumel, by water, to Campeachy, in the neighborhood of which he found one of his ships which had been missing. He then proceeded to the river Tabasco, which had been penetrated by Grijalva, one of his predecessors. This river he ascended with a considerable force in boats and brigantines, until he discovered a town, built of bricks, and surrounded by a wall of timber, through loopholes in which it could be defended by missiles. Failing, after entreaty, to procure the supplies of water and provisions which he required, and defied by the savages, he dispersed his troops in several divisions and succeeded in storming the place, which was gallantly defended. The savages fought with equal skill and bravery, and, singling out Cortés, who particularly distinguished himself in the conflict, they addressed themselves with special ferocity to his destruction. "Strike at the chief," was their cry-which drew upon him attentions equally honorable and dangerous. He lost his sandals in the struggle, and fought barefoot in the mud. A second battle followed in the plains of Ceutla. The Indians marshalled their legions,-legions indeed,-stretching out in dusk array to the very edge of the horizon. The fight which followed was a terrible one, but, in the most trying moment of the encounter, the eye of faith, among the more superstitious Spaniards, discovered a sacred ally from heaven, fighting in their ranks,-no other than the blessed St. James, the patron saint of Spain,-who, mounted on a grey horse, conducted to the shame of all other captains, to the final overthrow of the infidel. As far as we can see, Cortés himself wrought as effectually to this consummation, as the blessed saint whose business it does not seem to have been. He contented himself with victory, and forbore unnecessary slaughter. His mercy had its effect, not less than his valor. The savages felt their inferiority to the strange invader. Their chiefs sent in their submission, and appeared with the