blood of the Aztecs. The unfortunate nobleman retired to New Orleans, where he soon put an end to his existence by blowing out his brains,-not for ambition, however, if report be true, but disappointed love." Carbajal Espinosa, author of a History of Mexico, says that the Count of Montezuma killed himself on account of a love trouble, "although he was at that time more than seventy or eighty years of age (a pesar de que contaba entónces mas de setenta ú ochenta años de edad)." The assertions of Prescott and Espinosa throw a kind of ridicule on the death of the last direct descendant of the Emperor of the Aztecs, and we should be grateful to Dr. Gustave Devron who, in a communication to the Athénée Louisianais in New Orleans, gave the true facts in the matter. His Excellency, Señor Don Alfonso de Montezuma, committed suicide by cutting his throat and died in New Orleans on October 22, 1836. His death was indeed caused by a disappointment in love, but he was only fifty-two years of age and not seventy or eighty. Dr. Devron obtained from the curate of Santiago, in the town of Lorca, in Spain, an official copy of Montezuma's certificate of baptism, which stated that "Alfonso Josef Antonio Pedro Nolasco Nicolas Diego Manuel de Santa Gertrudis, hijo legitimo de D. José Marsilla Montezuma, Caballerizo de -Campo de Su Mgd. y de Da. Saltadora García de Alcaraz y Torecilla," was born on February 6, 1784, at 1 o'clock in the morning.

H. H. Bancroft gives the name of the Count of Montezuma as being Alonso Marcilla de Teruel Montezuma.

Dr. Devron produced also an official copy from the records of the Board of Health of Louisiana, giving the same date to Montezuma's birth and death as stated above. The unfortunate gentleman, who had had large estates in Spain and who had been chief civil magistrate in Madrid in 1816, 1817 and 1818, resided eight years in New Orleans. When he died, in 1836, he did not leave enough to pay his debts, as is proved by the following official inventory of his property:

"$2.65 in small coin found in one of his pockets,

to be divided among the privileged creditors, Dr. Puissant and Calixte Labiche, free woman of color, nurse, whose bills were each of $300, and who received individually $69.8412." These details concerning the last of the Montezumas are, we believe, interesting and prove the irony of fate. They might have been included by Alphonse Daudet in his celebrated novel, Les Rois en Exil.

CHAPTER III

COMPLETION OF THE CONQUEST

ON the very day of the death of Montezuma, June 30, 1520, at midnight, after having heard mass said by Father Olmedo, the Spaniards left their quarters and set out on their march to abandon the city which they believed they had conquered. Cortés had decided on a night retreat, as the Mexicans rarely fought except in daytime, and also because he hoped the army might make considerable advance before being detected. Of the treasure amassed by the Christians only part could be rescued, and permission was given the soldiers to take whatever gold they could carry. Many of the Spaniards, especially the men who had been with Narvaez, loaded themselves with gold, which was the cause of their death a little later when they endeavored to cross the canals which separated the city from the mainland.

The vanguard, composed of infantry, was commanded by Gonzalo de Sandoval, and with him were Diego de Ordaz and Francisco de Lujo. The centre was under the command of Cortés himself and was composed of the artillery, the baggage, the treasure, the women, and the prisoners, who were a son and two daughters of Montezuma. Pedro de Alvarado and Velasquez de León commanded the rear guard which consisted of the strength of the infantry, and with which most of the heavy guns were ultimately left. There were also about six thousand Ttlascalan allies distributed

among the three divisions. With the general were some of his veteran soldiers and Cristóbal de Olid, Francisco de Morla, and Alonso de Avila.

As the Mexicans had destroyed all the bridges on the canals, Cortés had had a portable bridge made, and Magarino had charge of it with fifty soldiers. The Spaniards began their retreat on the causeway of Ttlacopan, in which were three openings. The night was very dark, and there was a drizzling rain. For a time there was no opposition, but on their approaching the causeway, after leaving the street of the city, the alarm was given by the sentinels, and soon the great drum or huehuetl, which was sounded only on great occasions, called the Mexicans to arms.

The Spaniards were attacked by numberless enemies in canoes, in the streets and from the azoteas or flat roofs of the houses. The army succeeded, after stubborn fighting, in crossing the first canal on the portable bridge, but as only twenty men could march on a front on the causeway, the vanguard reached the second canal long before any attempt could be made to transport the bridge to the breach. There they were exposed for a while to a tremendous attack, which they sustained while waiting for the bridge, but it never came. The weight of the troops and of the artillery had imbedded it so firmly in the earth that Magarino and his men were unable to move it. The situation of the army on the narrow causeway was then desperate. Some of the men succeeded in crossing the two openings on horseback, others by swimming, and others on an awful bridge formed of dead bodies, baggage and pieces of artillery, but the greater part of the army perished in that "Melancholy Night," the celebrated Noche Triste in Mexican history. Cortés, as always, behaved as a brave soldier and zealous captain. He fought heroically and crossed the last canal by a ford, but returned, although wounded, with some of his horsemen to the help of the rear guard. He could do but little for that division of the army, and most of the men composing it, more than one hundred, returned to their quarters in the city, where,

after holding out for three days, they surrendered and were sacrificed to the Mexican gods.

Alvarado, who was one of the commanders of the rear guard, was severely wounded, but he is said to have saved his life by setting his long lance in the bottom of the lake and making a tremendous leap over the gap. The place where this feat was performed is still called in Mexico Salto de Alvarado, although it is more likely that the Spanish warrior crossed on a beam which had been left when the bridge was destroyed. His fame, however, as a wonderful "pole vaulter" has been fixed eternally by legend which is often mightier than history.

After reaching the mainland Cortés took the remnant of his army to a hill on which was an Indian temple which has been replaced by a church called Nuestra Señora de los Remedios. He is said to have sat under a large tree and to have shed tears over the sad condition of his soldiers, but although the tree of the gloomy night, el árbol de la noche triste, is shown the traveller in the modern city of Mexico, it does not prove the truth of the story of the despair of Cortés, any more than the rent rock at Roncevaux proves that Roland cut the grey stone with his celebrated sword Durendal.

The losses during the retreat were enormous: four hundred and fifty Christians and four thousand Indian allies, the children of Montezuma, the greater part of the treasure, forty-six horses, all the artillery, and nearly all the firearms. Among the killed were Juan Velasquez de León and Salazar, Cortés's page, and others of the bravest knights. One of the Spanish women, María de Estrada, fought with as much courage as the most valiant cavalier.

The Spanish commander wished to retreat to Ttlascala, and on his way was met on July 7, at Otompan or Otumba, by an immense army commanded by Cihuacoatl. The Spaniards fought gallantly with pike and sabre but would have been defeated had it not been for the bravery and wisdom of Cortés. He had heard that the Mexicans always fled