CHAPTER VI.
THE VOYAGE.
1519.
Something of the Captains of Cortés—Alvarado—Montejo—Ávila—Olid—Sandoval—Leon—Ordaz—Morla—The Passage—The Fleet Struck by a Squall—Arrival at Cozumel—Alvarado Censured—Search for the Captive Christians—Arrival of Aguilar—His Chaste Adventures—They Come to Tabasco River—Battles there—Conquest of the Natives—Peace Made—Twenty Female Slaves among the Presents—The Fleet Proceeds along the Shore—Puertocarrero’s Witticism—Arrival at San Juan de Ulua.
As the everlasting waves that bowl his ships along are discoursing to Cortés of his destiny, let us make the acquaintance of his captains, some of whom are to play parts in the Anáhuac amphitheatre secondary only to his own.
First, there was the fiery and impetuous Pedro de Alvarado, a hero of the Achilles or Sir Lancelot school, strong and symmetrical as a goddess-born; haughty, choleric, sometimes stanch and generous; passionate in his loves and hates, with the usual mixture of license, loyalty, and zeal for the church. He had not eyes to see, from where he stood in the warfare of his day, at once the decline of the fiercer barbarism and the dawn of a truer and gentler heroism. Already we have discovered flashes of temper and tendencies to treachery that display his character by too sulphurous a flame; but we shall find in him much to admire as conquistador and governor.
Alvarado was about the age of Cortés, Bajadoz being his native place. There his father, Diego de Alvarado, comendador de Lobon in the order of Santiago, and his mother, Sara de Contreras, struggled with poverty to maintain the reputation of a good family name. At the age of twenty-five Pedro came over to Santo Domingo, and prompted by vanity paraded himself in an old gown of his fathers, whereon was sewn the red cross of Santiago. At first he wore this garment inside out, giving as a reason his reduced circumstances which made him ashamed to publicly own the rank of knight. On being reproved by the admiral, he boldly affixed the insignia to his other dresses, and thenceforth called and signed himself the Comendador Alvarado.[104] The title was never openly questioned in the Indies, where men had little time for inquiring into the affairs of others, and Alvarado failed not with his plausible tongue and crafty nature to use it for obtaining certain privileges and advancement.
When Grijalva prepared his expedition he was living as an encomendero, near Trinidad, in Cuba, with five brothers.[105] As captain under this chief he gave evidence of an enterprising nature, combined with an impatiency of restraint which ill fitted a subordinate. The want of principle already shown by his conduct at Santo Domingo was here made apparent in the attempt to injure his commander with Velazquez, in order to further his own ends. His now prominent position as a well-to-do gentleman, and the experience gathered under Grijalva, had made him a welcome member of the present expedition. He had also acquired the reputation of a good soldier and horseman, with a bravery bordering on recklessness, and was a great favorite with his men, among whom he also ranked as an able drill master. With an agile frame, he presented a most cheerful and pleasing countenance, fair, some called it, with a tendency to ruddiness. Its attraction centred chiefly in the eyes, and afterward obtained for him among the Indians of Tlascala the appellation of Tonatiuh, the Sun.[106] His first glance thrown upon a combatant was the flash which was to be followed by the thunderbolt. Vanity prompted a careful attention to dress, but with a result approaching the showy rather than the elegant. His manner, no less winning than the face, made him a most agreeable companion, the more so as he was a liberal fellow, particularly with respect to women, and to pleasures generally. Beneath this smiling exterior, however, lay hidden an insatiable longing for power, and a blind worship of gold as the purchaser of pleasure, and under their influence he became at times so insensible to feelings of humanity as to place him outside the category of greatness.[107]
Another of Grijalva’s captains here present was Francisco de Montejo, who came from Spain with Pedrarias Dávila in 1514. After enlisting men in Española, and aiding in the conquest of Cenú, he came to Cuba to wield the sword for Velazquez; but while ranking as a brave officer and a good horseman, he showed greater aptitude for business.
At the present time he was about thirty-five years of age, of medium stature, and with a bright face, which indicated love for pleasure and generous liberality.[108]
Alonso de Ávila, the third of Grijalva’s brave lieutenants, had also a pleasant face and liberal disposition, combined with good reasoning power, but was altogether too loud-spoken and argumentative, and had an overbearing manner that created many enemies. He was about thirty-three years of age. Cristóbal de Olid, a year his junior, was a well formed, strong-limbed man, with wide shoulders and a somewhat fair complexion. Despite the peculiarity of a groove in the lower lip, which gave it the appearance of being split, the face was most attractive, and the powerful voice helped to bear him out as a good talker. While lacking in sincerity and depth of thought, and being little fit for the council, he possessed qualities which, in connection with great bravery and determination, made him an admirable executive officer; but an ambition to command began to assert itself, and directed by evil influence it brought about his fall a few years later. Bernal Diaz calls him a very Hector in combat, and possessing, among other good qualities, that of being liberal; on the whole an excellent man, though unfit to be a leader.[109] The youngest of the captains, the most worshipful and the most lovable, was Gonzalo de Sandoval, an hidalgo of only twenty-two years, from Cortés’ own town, the son of a fortress commandant, but with merely a rudimentary education. Brave, intrepid, and with a good head, he was equally determined in speech and in deportment, yet with a faultless obedience and loyalty that won the confidence and esteem of his chief. With a strict eye to discipline, he possessed also a kind, humane disposition, which gained the love and respect of his men, whose comfort he studied far more than his own. Plain in dress, and modest in manner and aspiration, he was free from the greed which tainted so many around him. A soldier in all qualities of the heart and mind, he was also physically fitted for one. In battle he was as wrathful and as beautiful as Apollo when he slew the Python. The robust frame, with its high chest and broad shoulders, supported a full face adorned with short, curly, nut-brown hair. The powerful voice, inclining at times to a lisp, was exhibited more in the issue of brief command than in conversation; for Don Gonzalo was as energetic to act as he was chary of words. The slightly bow-legged limbs indicated an early training for the saddle. Indeed, equestrian exercises were his delight, and his horse Motilla, a chestnut with a white foot and a star on the forehead, is described by Bernal Diaz as the finest he ever saw. Sandoval stands before us not only as an admirable man, but as an ideal officer, in his combined qualities of juvenile ardor and prudence, valor and humanity, modesty of disposition and purity of heart. Cortés spoke of him after his death with feelings of deepest regret, and represented him to the emperor as one of the finest soldiers in the world, fit to command armies.[110]
In Velazquez de Leon we find another admirable officer, who possesses many traits in common with Sandoval. He is described as about four years older than that chivalrous youth, with a well formed, powerful frame, fine chest and shoulders, full face, set in a somewhat curled and carefully tended beard. He was open with the hand, ready with the sword, and an expert horseman. He bore the reputation of having killed a prominent and rich man in a duel in Española, a deed which had obliged him to seek refuge in Cuba with his relation Velazquez.
The most devoted adherent of Velazquez, although not bound to him by ties of relationship, was his ancient mayordomo mayor, Diego de Ordaz,[111] a powerful man, of large stature, with full face, thin, dark beard, and stuttering speech. As a leader of foot-soldiers, for he did not ride, he gained the reputation of possessing great daring, as well as a good head; and among comrades he ranked as a liberal man and a conversationalist. Of the other captains, Francisco de Salcedo, reputed chief butler to the admiral of Castile, bore the sobriquet of ‘Dandy’ from his spruce manner;[112] and Francisco de Morla is spoken of as a valiant soldier and good horseman.[113]
On the way over the vessels were dispersed by a squall, but were gathered by the flag-ship, some at Catoche, and some at Port San Juan, on the north end of Cozumel Island, where they all finally congregated.[114] Quite early in the adventure Cortés was called on to spread before his unbridled associates the quality of discipline they might expect. It seems that Alvarado arrived at Cozumel Island two days before the fleet, and had begun to carry matters with rather a high hand for a subordinate. He had entered two towns, taken three persons captive, and seized some property of the natives. “Is this the way to win to our purpose barbarous peoples?” exclaimed the indignant Cortés. For failing to bring the vessel to the rendezvous at Cape San Antonio, Alvarado’s pilot was placed in chains. A little later, seven sailors were flogged for theft and perjury. The captives were soothed with presents and liberated, the stolen articles restored, and with the aid of Melchor, the interpreter, the fears of the natives were assuaged.
In answer to his inquiries regarding the captive Christians, Cortés was informed that two days’ journey in the interior of Yucatan bearded men had been seen by Cozumel traders, not long since, whereupon two vessels were despatched to Catoche under Ordaz, who was there to await, one week, the return of three Indian messengers, sent with presents to redeem the captives, and bearing a letter telling them where to find their countrymen.[115]
While waiting events, Cortés landed the horses to explore and forage, and employed the otherwise unoccupied men in military exercise. The islanders were highly entertained, and thought the animals giant deer and the ships water-houses. In return they gave the strangers cause for wonderment not unmixed with wrath; for this was a sacred island, in a heathen sense, and thither, from distant parts, resorted pilgrims with offerings for sanguinary shrines. And when one feast-day the priests of Baal, within their temple, arose before the people and called upon the gods of their fathers, the excited Spaniards could not contain themselves; Cortés stood forth and preached his religion to the indignant savages, but failing in the desired effect, the Spaniards rushed upon the idols, hurled them from their seats, and planted in their place the emblem of their faith.[116]
In due time Ordaz returned without the lost Christians, greatly to the disappointment of Cortés, who desired them particularly for interpreters. The fleet then set sail, but was obliged to return, owing to the leaky condition of Escalante’s vessel. While engaged upon repairs one day, the Spaniards being encamped upon the shore, a canoe was seen approaching the harbor from the mainland. Andrés de Tapia and others hastened to the landing, where presently the boat arrived, and four tawny undressed figures stepped upon the shore. One was bearded, and his form a little bent, and as he advanced before the others there was eager questioning in the piercing glance he threw about him. Presently he cried out in ill-articulated speech, “Señores, sois cristianos?” On being assured that they were, he dropped upon his knees, and with tears falling from uplifted eyes thanked God for his deliverance. Tapia saw it at a glance; this was one of the captives. Hastily stepping forward, he caught the uncouth object in his arms, raised him from the ground with a tender embrace, and conducted him to camp.[117] But for the beard it would have been difficult, from his outward appearance, to believe him a European. Naturally of a dark complexion, he was now bronzed by exposure, and entirely naked except for a breech-cloth and sandals. His crown was shorn, and the remaining hair braided and coiled upon the head.[118] In his hand he carried a net containing, among other things, a greasy prayer-book. On being presented to Cortés he seemed dazed, scarcely knowing whether to call himself savage or civilized. At best he could not all at once throw himself out of the former and into the latter category; for when his Indian companions squatted themselves before the captain-general, and with the right hand, moistened by the lips, touched the ground and then the region of the heart in token of reverence, impelled by habit he found himself doing the same. Cortés was touched. Lifting him up, he threw over the naked Spaniard his own yellow mantle, lined with crimson. He asked his name, and the man said he was Gerónimo de Aguilar, ordained in minor orders, a native of Ecija, and relative of the Licenciado Marcos de Aguilar, known to Cortés in Española. He and Gonzalo Guerrero, a sailor and a native of Palos, were the sole survivors of the expedition which, nearly eight years before, had left Darien for Española, under Valdivia, whose shipwreck and horrible fate I have elsewhere detailed.[119]
If backward at the beginning in the use of his tongue, Aguilar talked well enough when started, giving his thrilling experiences in words which filled his listeners with amazement. On escaping from the lord of Maya, who had eaten Valdivia and the others with the same relish that the Cyclops ate the companions of Ulysses, the survivors threw themselves on the mercy of a neighboring cacique called Ahkin Xooc. He with his successor, Taxmar, enslaved them, and treated them so severely that all died but himself and the sailor, Guerrero. There is a law of relativity which applies to happiness and misery, no less than to mental and physical consciousness. By ways widely different these two men had saved themselves; the former by humility and chastity, the latter by boldness and sensuality. Securing services under Nachan Kan, cacique of Chetumal, the sailor adopted the dress and manners of the people, rapidly rose in favor, became the chief captain of his master, married a woman of rank, and began to rear a dusky race; so that when the messengers of Cortés arrived he declined to be ransomed.[120] Then blushing beneath his tawny skin the sanctified Aguilar went on to tell of his own temptations and triumphs, in which he had been as lonely as was Ethan Brand in hugging the unpardonable sin. So sublime had been his patience and his piety under the drudgery at first put upon him, that he too rose in the estimation of his master, who was led to entrust him with more important matters. For in all things pertaining to flesh and spirit he acted with so much conscientiousness that Taxmar, a stranger to those who loved virtue for its own sake, suspected the motives that inspired his captives. To test his wonderful integrity, for he had noticed that Aguilar never raised his eyes to look upon a woman, Taxmar once sent him for fish to a distant station, giving him as sole companion a beautiful girl, who had been instructed to employ all her arts to cause the Christian to break his vow of continency. Care had been taken that there should be but one hammock between them, and at night she bantered him to occupy it with her; but stopping his ears to the voice of the siren, he threw himself upon the cold, chaste sands, and passed the night in peaceful dreams beneath the songs of heaven.[121]
Cortés smiled somewhat sceptically at this and like recitals, wherein the sentiments expressed would have done honor to Scipio Africanus; nevertheless, he was exceedingly glad to secure this man, even though he had been a little less chaste and brave and cunning than he represented himself to be. He found him not only useful but willing, for this humble holy man was a great fighter, as he had said, and was very ready to lead the Spaniards against his late master, though pledged to peace and friendliness.
Early in March[122] the fleet again sailed, and after taking shelter from a gale behind Punta de las Mujeres for one or two days, passed round Catoche and along the Yucatan coast, hugging the shore to note its features, and sending forth a growl of revenge on passing Potonchan. Boca de Términos was now reached, whither Escobar had been sent in advance to explore, and within the entrance of a little harbor, to which a boat’s crew was guided by blazings, a letter was found, hidden in a tree, from which circumstance the harbor was named Puerto Escondido. The letter reported a good harbor, surrounded by rich lands abounding in game; and soon after the fleet met the exploring vessel, and learned of the important acquisition to the expedition in Grijalva’s lost dog.[123] Off Rio de Tabasco the fleet came to anchor, and the pilots knowing the bar to be low, only the smaller vessels entered the river. Remembering the friendly reception accorded Grijalva, the Spaniards were surprised to find the banks lined with hostile bands, forbidding them to land. Cortés therefore encamped at Punta de los Palmares, on an island about half a league up the river from the mouth, and not far from the capital of the Nonohualcas, a large town of adobe and stone buildings on the opposite mainland, protected by a heavy stockade.[124]
In answer to a demand for water, the natives thereabout pointed to the river; as for food, they would bring some on the morrow. Cortés did not like the appearance of things; and when, during the night, they began to remove their women and children from the town, he saw that his work must begin here. More men and arms were landed on the island, and Ávila was ordered to proceed to the mainland with one hundred men, gain the rear of the town, and attack at a given signal.[125] In the morning a few canoes arrived at the island with scanty provisions, all that could be obtained, the natives said; and further than this, the Spaniards must leave: if they attempted to penetrate the interior, they would be cut off to a man. Cortés answered that his duty to the great king he served required him to examine the country and barter for supplies. Entering the vessels, he ordered them to advance toward the town; and in the presence of the royal notary, Diego de Godoy, he made a final appeal for peace, as required by Spanish law, casting upon the natives the blame for the consequences of their refusal. The reply came in the form of yells, mingled with the noise of conchs, trumpets, and drums, and a shower of arrows. The Spaniards drove their prows forward into the mud. The Indians crowded round in canoes to prevent their landing. A well directed volley at once cleared the way, and notified Ávila to attack. Panic-stricken at the strangeness and suddenness of it all, the natives fell back, but rallied at the call of their leaders, and poured a shower of arrows on the Spaniards as they threw themselves into the water to wade ashore, receiving them at the point of their lances as they reached the bank. Tabasco’s men were powerful and brave. The charge of cowardice had been flung at them by their neighbors for having been friendly with the Spaniards on former occasions, and they were now determined to vindicate their character for courage. Once on solid ground the Spaniards rang their battle-cry of “Sus, Santiago, á ellos!” Up, Santiago, and at them! and drove the enemy within the stockade. A breach was quickly made, and the defenders chased some distance up the streets, where they made a stand, shouting “La, la, calachoni!” Strike at the chief! At this juncture Ávila appeared. The natives saw the day was lost to them, and they turned and fled. The Spaniards did not pursue very far, but halted in an open space, where three stately temples invited to pillage, though little was found worth taking, except some maize and fowl. During the action eighteen Indians were killed and fourteen Spaniards wounded.[126] In the formal taking of possession which followed, it was noticed by those present that mention of the name of Velazquez was significantly omitted.[127]
Next morning Alvarado and Francisco de Lugo, each with one hundred men, were sent by different ways to reconnoitre and forage, with orders to return before dark.[128] Melchor, on being called to accompany one of them, was missing. Presently his clothes were discovered hanging on a tree, indicating that he had gone over to the enemy. Lugo had advanced not more than a league when, near a town called Centla, he encountered a large body of warriors, who attacked him fiercely and drove him back toward the camp. Alvarado had meanwhile been turned by an estuary from his course and in the direction of Lugo. Hearing the noise of battle he hastens to the assistance of Lugo, only to be likewise driven back by the ever increasing hosts, and not until Cortés came to the rescue with two guns did the enemy retire.[129] The result, according to Bernal Diaz, was two of Lugo’s men killed and eleven wounded, while fifteen Indians fell and three were captured.
Nor did the matter rest here. The captives told Cortés that Tabasco, concerned at the arrival of so large a fleet which augured hostile occupation, had aroused the province, the assembled chiefs being also urged by Melchor to manfully expel the invaders, as the people of Potonchan had done. To depart now would leave a stain upon the generalship of Cortés in the eyes of both Spaniards and Indians such as was not to be thought of. There must be a battle fought and won. To this end all the horses, cross-bows, firelocks, and guns were brought on shore. Thirteen of the best horsemen[130] were selected to form a cavalry corps under the leadership of Cortés. The horses were provided with poitrels having bells attached, and the riders were to charge the thick of the enemy and strike at the face. Ordaz was made chief of infantry and artillery, the latter being in special charge of Mesa.[131] In order both to surprise the enemy and secure good ground for the cavalry, Cortés resolved to advance at once on Centla. It was annunciation day, the 25th of March, when the army left camp and stood before Centla, in the midst of broad maize and cocoa fields, intersected by irrigation ditches. The enemy were ready, their dark forms appearing in the distance under an agitated sea of glistening iztli. The cavalry now made a detour to gain their rear, while the infantry marched straight on.[132] Formidable as was in truth the Spanish army, the unsophisticated natives made light of it, and came gayly forward to the combat in five squadrons, of eight thousand warriors each,[133] as Bernal Diaz says, “all in flowing plumes, with faces painted in red, white, and black, sounding drums and trumpets, and flourishing lances and shields, two-handed swords, fire-hardened darts, and slings, and every man protected by an armor of quilted cotton.” They would encircle these impudent interlopers, and did they not fall fainting beneath their brave yells and savage music, they would crush them like flies. And by way of beginning, they sent forth a cloud of arrows, stones, and charred darts, wounding many and killing one, a soldier named Saldaña. The Spaniards answered with their cross-bows and firelocks, and mowed the packed masses with their cannon. The soft soil and ditches were less to the agile Indian than to the heavily accoutred Spaniard.
It adds nothing to the honor of Spanish arms to throw in at this juncture a miracle to terrify the already half-paralyzed Indians, who might otherwise prove too strong for their steel-clad assailants; but the records compel me. While in the dire embrace of heathen hordes, midst thrust and slash and crash of steel and stone, the enemy hewn down and driven back only to give place to thrice the number, behold, upon a gray-spotted steed, a heavenly horseman appeared, and from a slight eminence overlooking the bloody field he frowned confusion on the foe. The heathen warriors were stricken powerless, enabling the Spaniards to form anew; but when the horseman vanished, the Indians rallied. Thrice, with the same effect, the awful apparition came and went.[134] Then there were horsemen indeed, more real to the Spaniards, but none the less spectral to the Indians. They had been detained by the marshes intervening; and now, with swords and helmets glittering, they rose in the enemy’s rear, and midst clang of arms and shouts of Santiago y San Pedro, they threw themselves with terrible effect upon him. What could the Indians do? Those that were not trampled or cut to death turned and fled, and the Spaniards possessed the field. “And this was the first preaching of the gospel in New Spain, by Cortés,” remarks the caustic Las Casas.[135]
The Spaniards drew up at a grove to return thanks for this great victory. A large number of the enemy were slain. Sixty of their own number were wounded, and two lay dead; eight horses had been scratched, and their wounds were cauterized and anointed with the fat of dead Indians.[136] On returning to camp two of five captives, leading men, were sent with presents to the cacique to represent the danger of further hostility, and to propose a council of peace. Tabasco was very ready to lay down arms, and he sent a propitiatory offering of fowl, fried fish, and maize bread by messengers with blackened faces and dressed in rags. Cortés answered with a reprimand, “Tell your master, if he desires peace he must sue for it, and not send slaves.” Tabasco hastened to comply, and sent immediately to Cortés an embassy of forty chiefs, richly clad and walking in stately procession, followed by a file of slaves bearing presents. Low bowing before the bearded assembly, and swinging before them the censer in token of reverence, the ambassador implored pardon, and proffered submission. “The blame is all your own,” said Cortés, with severity. The Indians acquiesced, though it puzzled them to know for what they were to blame. Cortés further informed them that the great king, his master, had sent him to scatter blessings, if they were found deserving; if not, to let loose upon them the caged lightning and the thunder which he carried. Whereat the gun charged for the occasion was fired, and as the noise reverberated over the hills and the ball went crashing through the trees, the Indians fell prostrate with fear, and the noble Europeans were proud of their superiority.
Reassured against further punishment, the next trick played upon them was to tie a mare in the bushes in sight of a stallion which they paraded before their visitors; and when he neighed and reared and plunged to get to his mate, the natives were told that the great beast was angry because of the peace that was being made, and only further gifts would pacify him.
On the following morning Tabasco presented himself in person, attended by a large retinue, and bringing presents, among which were some gold ornaments of little value and twenty female slaves. The terms dictated by Cortés were that they should return their women and children to the village within two days, in token of their good faith, and that the treacherous Melchor should be delivered up. But the unfortunate interpreter had already suffered death in return for his bad advice. It was useless to demand gold, for there was little or none here. So they proceeded at once to expound the doctrines of their faith; to lay before them the truths of the gospel which they had come so far to bring. An altar was erected in the chief temple on which was placed a large cross. From this altar Father Olmedo preached to the natives, and here were baptized the first converts to the church in New Spain, consisting of the twenty female slaves, who were afterward distributed among the leaders. Then followed the ceremonial tender of allegiance by the chiefs of Tabasco’s province to the Spanish king, and the formal naming of the large town, which was called Santa María de la Victoria, in commemoration of the victory.[137]
Palm Sunday being at hand, it was resolved to celebrate it in such a manner as to further impress the natives. Attired in their most brightly colored garments, with palms in their hands and banners aloft, the Spaniards marched in solemn procession, to harmonious chants, about the temple; and when these doughty men of war humbled themselves before the symbols of their faith, the wondering heathen thought that great indeed must be the god worshipped by such beings. After commending the sacred emblems to the care of the chiefs, with a promise to send holy men to teach them the true faith, and with assurances of royal protection, the Spaniards bade the Nonohualcas farewell, and were shortly on their way again.
Keeping close to the shore for purposes of observation, the several places observed and named by Grijalva were pointed out to Cortés and commented upon by those who had accompanied the former expedition. Certain of the new captains took umbrage at this assumption of superior knowledge, accompanied by liberal proffers of advice; and one of them, the polished Puertocarrero, broke out in a strain of pleasant sarcasm. “It seems to me, señor,” he said, taking the incidents of a well-known romance for his text, “as if these gentlemen would enlighten you, in the words of the father of Montesinos:
Now I would humbly suggest that your worship yourself should seek out rich lands and learn to govern them wisely.” Catching the significance of the words, Cortés replied: “Let God only grant success to our arms, as he did to Paladin Roldan, and with such gentlemen as yourself to aid me I shall well know what to do.”
Gliding past islas Blanca and Verde, the fleet anchored behind San Juan de Ulua late on Thursday in passion week.