877. Robert Southey to Charles Watkin Williams Wynn, [c. late December 1803-mid February 1804]*

Madoc

5

At morning their high-priest Ayayaca Came with our guide. the venerable man With more especial welcome greeted xxx me Deeming us children of another race Mightier than they. He led us to the Queen. The fate of war had robbd her of her realm, Yet with affection & habitual awe, And old remembrances that gave their love A deeper & religious character, Fallen as she was & humbled as they were, Her faithful people still in all they could Obeyed Erilyab. She too in her mind Those recollections cherishd, & such thoughts As, tho no hope tempered their bitterness, Gave to her eye a spirit, & a strength Of pride to features which had borne belike, Had they been fashioned to a happier fate, Meaning more gentle & more womanly Yet not more worthy of esteem & love. She sate upon the threshold of her hut For in the country where her sires had reignd The conqueror dwelt. her son was at her side, A boy now near to manhood. By the door Bared of its bark, the head & branches shorn, Stood a young tree with many a weapon hung, Her Husbands War-pole, & his monument. There had his quiver moulderd, his stone axe Had there grown green with moss, his bow string there Sung, as it cut the wind. She welcomed us With a proud sorrow in her mien, fresh fruits Were spread before us, & her features said That when He lived whose hand was wont to wield Those weapons, – that in better days, – that ere She let the tresses of her widowhood Grow wild, she could have given to guests like us A worthier welcome. Soon a man approachd Hooded with sable, x his half-naked limbs Smeard black. the people at his sight drew round The women waild & wept, the children turnd And hid their faces on their mothers knees.

He to the Queen addrest his speech, then lookd Around the children, & laid hands on two Of different sexes, but of age alike, Some six years each. they at his touch shriekd out, But then Lincoya rose, & to my feet Led them, & told me that the conquerors claimd These innocents for tribute; that the Priest Would lay them on the altar of his God, Tear out their little hearts in sacrifice, Yea with more cursed wickedness, himself Feed on their flesh. I shuddered & my hand Instinctively unsheathed the holy sword. He with most passionate & eloquent signs Eye-speaking earnestness & quivering lips, Besought me to preserve himself & those Who now fell suppliant round me, youths & maids Gray-headed men & mothers with their babes.

I caught the little victims up – I kissed Their innocent cheeks – I raised my eyes to Heaven I calld upon Almighty God to hear And bless the vow I made. in our own tongue Was that sworn promise of protection vowd, – Impetuous feeling made no pause for thought. – Heaven heard the vow; the suppliant multitude Saw what was stirring in my heart, the Priest With eye inflamed & rapid answer, raisd His menacing hand, the tone, the bitter smile Interpreting his threat. Meantime the Queen With watchful eye & steady countenance Had listened, – now she rose & to the Priest Addressd her speech. low was her voice & calm As one who spake with effort to subdue Sorrow that struggled still, but as she spake Her features kindled to more majesty Her eye became more animate, her voice Rose to the height of feeling. on her son She calld & from her husbands monument His battle axe she took, & I could see That as she gave the boy his fathers arms She calld his fathers spirit to look on And bless them to his vengeance. Silently The tribe stood listening as Erilyab spake, The very Priest was awed; once he essayd To answer, his tongue faild him & his lip Grew pale & fell. he to his countrymen, Of rage & shame & wonder full, returnd, Bearing no victims for their shrines accurst, But tidings that the Homen had cast off Their vassalage, rousd to desperate revolt By men in hue & speech & garment strange, Who in their folly dared defy the power Of Aztlan. When the King of Aztlan heard, The unlookd-for tale, ere yet he rousd his strength Or pitying our rash valour, or belike Curious to see the man so bravely rash, He sent to bid me to his court. surprized I should have given to him no credulous faith, But fearlessly Erilyab bade me trust Her honourable foe. unarmd I went, Lincoya with me to exchange our speech So as he could, of safety first assured, For to their damned idols he had been A victim doomd, & from the bloody rites Flying, been carried captive far away.

From early morning till the mid-noon hour We travelled in the mountains, then a plain Opened below; & rose upon the sight Like boundless ocean from a hill top seen. A beautiful & populous plain it was, Fair woods were there, & fertilizing streams And pastures spreading wild wide, & villages In fruitful groves embowered, & stately towns, And many a single dwelling specking it, As tho for many a year the land had been The land of peace. below us where the base Of the great mountains to the level sloped, A broad blue lake extended far & wide Its waters, dark beneath the light of noon. There Aztlan stood upon the farther shore, Amid the shade of trees its dwellings rose, Their level roofs with turrets set around. And battlements all burnishd white, that shone Like silver in the sunshine. I beheld The imperial city, her far-arching walls, Her garden-groves & stately palaces, Her temples mountain-size, her thousand roofs. And when I saw her might & majesty My mind misgave me then. We reachd the shore A floating Islet waited for me there, The beautiful work of man. I set my foot Upon green-growing herbs & flowers, & sate Embowered in odorous shrubs. four long light boats Yoked to the garden, with accordant song And dip & dash of oar in harmony, Bore me across the lake. Then in a car Aloft by human bearers was I borne, And thro the city gate, & thro long lines Of marshalld multitudes who thronged the way, We reachd the palace court. four Priests were there Each held a burning censer in his hand And strewd the precious gum as I drew nigh, And held the steaming fragrance forth to me, As I had been a God. they led me in Where on his throne the royal Aztěca Cōănăcotzin sate. Stranger, said he, Welcome, & be this coming to thy weal! A desperate warfare doth thy courage court, But thou shalt see the people & the power Whom thy deluded zeal would call to arms, So may the knowledge make thee timely wise. The valiant love the valiant. come with me.

He said & rose. we went together forth To the Great Temple, twas a huge square Or rather like a rock it seemd, hewn out And squared by patient labour. never yet Did our forefathers oer their leader slain In glorious battle, heap a monument Of that prodigious bulk, tho every shield Was laden for his grave, & every hand Toild unremitting at the willing work From morn till eve, all the long summer day.

The ascent was lengthened by <with> provoking art¹ By steps that led but to a wearying path Round the whole structure, then another flight, Another road all round, & thus a third, And yet a fourth, lengthening the long ascent. Lo now, Coanocotzin cried, thou seest The cities of this widely peopled plain; And wert thou on yon farthest temple top, Yet as far onward wouldst thou see the land Well-husbanded like this & full of men. They tell me that two floating palaces Brought thee & all thy people: when I sound The Trumpet of the God, ten cities hear Its voice, & answer to the call in arms.

In truth I felt my weakness, & the view Had wakend no unreasonable fear, But that a nearer sight had stirrd my blood, For on the summit where we stood, four Towers Were piled with human skulls, & all around Long files of human heads were strung to parch And whiten in the sun. What then I felt Was more than natural courage, twas a trust In more than mortal strength, & faith in God, An inspiration from him. I exclaimd Not tho ten cities ten times told obeyd The King of Aztlans bidding, should I fear The power of man! Art thou then more than man? He answerd, & I saw his tawny cheek Lose its life colour as the fear arose – Nor did I undeceive him from that fear, For sooth I knew not how to answer him, And therefore let it work. till we had reachd The court, no word Coanocotzin spake, And I too went in silent thoughtfulness, But then, when save Lincoya there was none To hear our speech, again did he renew The query. Stranger art thou more than man That thou shouldst set the power of man at nought?

Then I replied, two floating Palaces Bore me & all my people oer the seas. When we departed from our mother land The Moon was newly born, we saw her wax And wane, & witnessed her new birth again, And all that while, alike by day & night We travelled thro the Sea, & caught the Winds And made them bear us forward. We must meet In battle, if the Homen are not freed From your accursed tribute, thou & I, My people & thy countlessss multitudes. Your arrows shall fall from us as the hail Leaps on a rock, & when ye smite with swords Not blood, but fire shall follow from the stroke. Yet think not thou that we are more than men – Our knowledge is our power, & God our strength, God, whose almighty will created thee And me, & all that hath the breath of life,And Earth & Heaven He is our strength, – for in his name [MS obscured] And when I tell thee that thou shalt not shed The life of man in bloody sacrifice, It is his holy bidding that I speak; And if thou wilt not listen & obey, – When I shall meet thee in the battle-field It is his holy cause for which I fight And I shall have his power to conquer thee.

And thinkest thou our Gods are feeble? cried The King of Aztlan. dost thou deem they lack Power to defend their altars & to keep The Kingdom that they gave us strength to win. The Gods of thirty nations have opposed Their irresistible might, & they lie now Conquered, & caged & fettered at their feet. That they who serve them are no coward race Let prove this ample realm they won in arms; And I, their Leader, am not of the Sons Of the feeble! as he spake he reachd a mace The trunk & knotty root of some young tree, Such as old Albion & his monster brood From the oak forest from for their weapons pluckd When father Brute & Corineus set foot On the White Island first. lo this my club Quoth he, & he threw back his robe – & this The Arm that wields it! twas my fathers once – Erilyabs husband King Tepolomi He felt its weight – did I not show thee him? He lights me at my evening banquet! – there In very deed the dead Tepolomi Stood up against the wall, by devilish art Preserved, & from his black & shrivelled hand The steady lamp hung down. My spirit rose At that abomination. I exclaimd Thou art of noble nature, & full fain Would I in friendship plight my hand with thine, But till that body in the grave be laid, Till thy polluted altars be made pure, There is no peace between us. May my God, Who tho thou knowst him not is also thine, And after death will be thy dreadful Judge; May it please him to visit thee, & shed His mercy on thy soul. but if thy heart Be hardened to the proof – come when thou wilt I know thy power, & thou shalt then know mine.²

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The poem on Sir James Mackintosh³ in my next. let the “worthy Knight”⁴ die when he will he will never have a better epitaph.

You must give me credit for the costume. I assume nothing but this – that the Azteca were in the same degree of refinement as Cortes⁵ found their descendants at Mexico. In every trait of manners I shall produce vouchers. It was very wise in the Scotch Reviewers to say there was no invention in Thalaba⁶ because the manners & superstitions existed – they might have gon[Ms obscured] further for the proof <& have> attributed all the originality to the inventor of the Alphabet, for certain[MS obscured] it could not have been written without those materials.

Shall I send more? or are you again occupied in the glorious fatigues of war? – If these fortification schemes⁷ go on I shall grow ashamed of my country & begin to wish myself an American or a Russian⁸ – to look on with hope – instead of looking back with shame.

God bless you. R S. Thursday.