atred of the
white men, had secured for him the confidence of all the wisest and best
men of the realm, so that, with one heart and one voice, they rallied
around his standard, assured that, under his energetic sway, the ancient
glory and pre-eminence of the Aztec crown would be not only ably
asserted, but effectually re-established.

His fall, like a mighty earthquake, shook the empire to its centre. For
a moment it seemed as if all was lost--hopelessly, irretrievably lost.
The long funereal wail, that swelled up from every dwelling and every
heart in that devoted land, seemed like the expiring groan of a world.
But it was only for a moment. The first shock past, they found
themselves still standing, though among ruins. Their land, their
temples, their dwellings, still remained. Their wise and experienced
counsellors were all in their midst. Their host of armed men were still
at their post, unbroken, undivided, unappalled. The imperial mantle had
not fallen to the earth.

As by immediate direction from heaven, all eyes were turned to
Guatimozin. He was nephew to the last two monarchs, and though only a
young man, had distinguished himself both in the council and in the
field. He had uniformly opposed the admission of the Spaniards to the
capital. He had been prominent in all the recent attacks upon their
quarters, and had especially signalized himself in the terrible
overthrow of the disastrous night of their retreat. He had all the
coolness and intrepidity of a veteran warrior, with all the fire and
impetuosity of youth. He was about twenty-five years of age, of an
elegant commanding figure, and so terrible in war that even his
followers trembled in his presence.

The young prince felt the extreme difficulty of the crisis, but did not
shrink from the arduous and perilous post assigned him. With a prudence
and circumspection, only to have been expected from one long accustomed
to the cares and perplexities of government, he set himself to fortify
every assailable point, and to prepare for the worst that might arise,
in the event of another invasion. The works commenced during the brief
reign of Cuitlahua were carried forward to their completion. By means of
regular couriers and spies, a constant communication was kept up with
all parts of the country. The movements of the Spaniards were narrowly
watched, and their supposed designs frequently reported to the Emperor.
Nothing was omitted which a sagacious and watchful