The tone of familiarity thus assumed was eminently
characteristic of the footing of equality on which the parties in
the expedition stood with one another.
Their sufferings, they told him, were too great to be endured. All
the men had received one, most of them two or three wounds. More
than fifty had perished, in one way or another, since leaving Vera
Cruz. There was no beast of burden but led a life preferable to
theirs. For when the night came, the former could rest from his
labours; but they, fighting or watching, had no rest, day nor night.
As to conquering Mexico, the very thought of it was madness. If they
had encountered such opposition from the petty republic of Tlascala,
what might they not expect from the great Mexican empire? There was
now a temporary suspension of hostilities. They should avail
themselves of it to retrace their steps to Vera Cruz. It is true,
the fleet there was destroyed; and by this act, unparalleled for
rashness even in Roman annals, the general had become responsible
for the fate of the whole army. Still there was one vessel left.
That might be despatched to Cuba, for reinforcements and supplies;
and, when these arrived, they would be enabled to resume operations
with some prospect of success.
Cortes listened to this singular expostulation with perfect
composure. He knew his men, and, instead of rebuke or harsher
measures, replied in the same frank and soldier-like vein which they
had affected.
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