He was now fairly in the country, backed by the affection of his own men who knew his value, and the friendship of four tribes that looked to him for protection and loved him for his justice toward them.[6] All things thus far had been managed with great prudence, and it is strange that we find Cortes just at this time guilty of an act of great imprudence. His early education, however, may in a measure excuse it. He had before this rebuked Alvarado for stripping an idol at Cozumel, and now he was himself guilty of a greater outrage of the same kind, towards the natives. He had entreated the Chempoallans to leave off the bloody rites of their religion. The priests were greatly shocked at his proposal, and immediately roused the people to oppose it. Cortes now became angry—instantly ordered fifty of his men to arms, and started to invade the temple. The Cacique begged him to do no violence, but the Indian warriors seeing his determination, seized their weapons for a struggle. Cortes marched on and ascended the steps of the temple. Seeing the warriors gathered to oppose him, he seized the Cacique with his principal officers and the priests, and declared he would instantly kill them if any resistance was made. The Indians now laid aside their arms and looked on with tears and groans. Cortes entered their temple—their idols were thrown from the altars and broken in pieces. He commanded then that even the fragments should be burned. The priests now came forward in their long black mantles, with their hair reaching to the ground clotted with blood, and their ears torn and cut, gathered up the pieces and burned them in the midst of the temple. The next command was to wash and purify the place; and after this the holy cross was raised upon the altar, and Father Olmedo invited the people to worship. The poor Chempoallans submitted to this, for they were weak and needed his protection.
The followers of Cortes had now been in the country nearly three months, and began to grow impatient to march toward Mexico. He was himself as eager as any, but had not yet arranged all things as he desired. The thought of the opposition of Velasquez tormented him, and he was determined if possible to have the approbation of Don Carlos, the King of Spain. He gathered his principal friends together, and told them that before starting, he thought it best to send special messengers to the King; and that, to please Don Carlos, it would be well to send to him by the same messengers a present of all the treasures thus far discovered. These friends approved the plan, and proposed it to the men. Strange to tell, almost every man willingly stripped himself of all he had gained thus far to swell the present of Don Carlos. It was for the common good, and that was sufficient. Portocarrero and Montejo were at once chosen as the messengers. With positive instructions that they should by no means touch in their voyage to Spain at the Island of Cuba, the messengers set sail, bearing to Don Carlos the present and a letter from the officers of Villa Rica, giving glorious accounts of Cortes, and the rich country which he had discovered for the kingdom of Spain.
The messengers had scarcely left, when a plot was formed by some of the soldiers and sailors to seize one of the vessels, sail to Cuba, and inform Velasquez of what was going on, that he might stop them on their way. The plot was so secretly managed, that it was discovered just in time to prevent it. The conspirators had gone on board the vessel, when one of their number, named Coria, who was about joining them, suddenly repented of his treachery, came to Cortes, and informed him of the plan. He immediately went on board the vessel, and not one of them dared deny the crime. They were all seized and brought ashore. Escudero and Centeno, the ringleaders, were instantly put to death; Umbria, the pilot, had one of his feet cut off; and two of the sailors received two hundred lashes. This was terrible punishment, but Cortes excused himself by the plea of necessity. The rest of the gang he spared, saying that they were unfortunately led off by the bad example of the ringleaders.
Cortes was now very unhappy. This plot convinced him that there were still dissatisfied men in his camp; that all was not peace as he supposed. He knew that where this was the case, troubles of the same kind were likely to occur again; but in his anxiety a thought flashed upon his mind, that he would prevent them for ever. A bold determination was now in his heart. He again gathered his principal friends, and told them that he was resolved to destroy the fleet; that thereby he would gain all the sailors for soldiers; and that his men, having then no chance of escape, must either conquer or die. As usual, they approved of his daring resolution; the soldiers were talked to, and many were ready to join heart and hand in a plan which added one hundred sailors to the army. Escalante was soon busy in dismantling the ships, and the hulls were sunk. The skiffs only were saved, for the purpose of fishing. Thus they were locked up in the country. To conquer or die was truly all that was now before them, and Cortes at once commenced his preparations for invading Mexico.
Assembling all his men at Chempoalla, he made a stirring speech to his army, telling them of the glory that was before them. The force now consisted of five hundred infantry, fifteen horsemen, and six pieces of cannon. To these he added two hundred Indians of a low grade, called Tamenes, who were to act as beasts of burden, and four hundred warriors, selected, by the request of the Cacique of Chempoalla, from among his troops. Then taking from the Caciques a promise that they would aid, as far as they could, his settlement at Villa Rica, left under the command of Escalante, he was ready for the march.
At this moment, a messenger came in hot haste from Villa Rica, to tell him that a vessel was cruising near the coast. This startled Cortes; in an instant he supposed that this was some ship sent against him by Velasquez. Leaving the command of the army to Alvarado and Sandoval, he immediately set off, with a small party of horse, for Villa Rica. As he came near, he marked the vessel at some distance from the shore, and presently saw in his way four strange Spaniards coming towards him. It seems that these men were a part of the crew of the strange vessel, and had been sent to the shore by the captain, Alonso de Pineda, to take possession of the country. The captain was aware that Cortes was in possession, and had given them a document to present to him,—which document stated that, by a royal commission, Francisco de Garay, the Governor of Jamaica, was to have authority over all the coast he might discover to the north of the river of Saint Peter and Saint Paul. Three ships had therefore been sent by Garay, bringing two hundred and seventy soldiers, under the command of Pineda, who was just now in the river of Panuco. They presented the document, at the same time commanding Cortes not to come upon the new territory of Garay. Receiving it, he begged that he might see their captain, and make a fair arrangement with him, declaring that they were both subjects to Don Carlos, and seeking the glory of their common kingdom. This they refused; and Cortes, without hesitation, ordered them to be seized. He then hid himself with his men all night behind a sand-hill near the coast, hoping that more soldiers would be sent from the ships to look for their comrades, and that he might seize them and persuade them to join him. Finding himself disappointed in this, he now employed a stratagem to bring them ashore. Four of his men were dressed in the prisoners’ clothes, and sent to the coast to make signals. In a little time, a boat was seen making to the shore. From some cause or other (suspicion of the plot, perhaps), only three men landed—the rest pushing off, and hurrying back to the ship. These three, however, were instantly secured. Having now no hope of gaining more men, and little to fear, as he thought, from Francisco de Garay, with his seven new soldiers he pushed back to his army.
On the 16th of August, the army commenced the march towards Mexico. For a little time they fared very well, passing through Xalapan, Socochima, and Texotla, where the people were independent of Montezuma, and consequently received them very kindly. After this they came upon a wild and mountainous region, filled with frightful precipices, where no human being lived. The weather was extremely cold, provisions began to run low, and withal they were pelted by heavy hail-storms. They felt now that their hardships had commenced; but, trained to difficulties, and thirsting for glory, they moved on without a murmur. At length they arrived at Xocotlan, on the confines of Mexico, and were greatly cheered by the change. The chief city lay in a beautiful valley at the foot of the mountains; the lofty temples, and houses plastered and whitewashed, rose pleasantly before them, and for a moment they thought of their homes in the Old World. Cortes at once sent a message to the Cacique, informing him of his arrival; and he presently showed himself, with a large number of followers. The Spanish chief was greeted kindly, to all appearance, but, as he thought, not sincerely; and he was confirmed in this thought when he found that his troops were but poorly provided for. He considered it best, however, to make no complaints. For five days he remained at this place, learning all that he could of Montezuma and his kingdom. He questioned the Cacique very closely, and was told in reply that Montezuma was the most powerful and wealthy monarch in the world; and while he richly rewarded all his friends, his enemies were always looked upon as wretched beings, and sacrificed to the gods. The city of Mexico, where he dwelt, was a strong fortress, where no enemy could take him. It was built in a lake, and could only be reached by three causeways, each of which had several chasms, which could only be passed by means of wooden bridges. The Spaniards heard all this with perfect calmness, and the Xocotlans began to look upon them also as Teules, or deities. The thought that men could live without fearing the great Montezuma, was to them incredible. Then the skill of the soldiers, together with the appearance of the cannons and horses, startled the Cacique the more, and he now showed a disposition to be very friendly.
When Cortes was leaving, he seemed greatly interested in him, and urged him, on his journey to Mexico, to take the route through the province of Cholula. There were multitudes of people (he said) in that province, for the most part peaceable men, living by cultivating the soil: there the Spaniards would meet with a kind reception, and find abundance. The Chempoallans, however, were of a different opinion. They now came forward, stating that the Cholulans were a treacherous race; that no man could put any confidence in them; and besides this, that their chief city was guarded by a garrison of Mexican soldiers. They begged that he would make his journey through the province of Tlascala, where the people were fierce and warlike, hated Montezuma, and would gladly receive him; moreover, that these Tlascalans were strong friends to them and the Totonacas. Cortes, thinking the advice of old friends, of whom he had had some trial, better than that of new ones, determined to go by the way of Tlascala.
RENEWING his march, in a little time Cortes reached Xalacingo, on the borders of the Tlascalan dominions, and immediately prepared to send messengers into their country, to tell them of his arrival. Four Chempoallans of high rank were chosen for this purpose. Dressed after the manner of ambassadors (with cotton mantles full of knots at the ends), and bearing a long arrow tipped with white feathers, the symbol of peace,[7] they departed. Contrary to all expectation, they were received unkindly. The Tlascalans at once seized them, and prepared to sacrifice them to their gods. Fortunately, through the neglect of the guard placed over them, they managed to escape, and hurried back to the Spanish camp with their awful story. The Tlascalans were angry, and swore that they would sacrifice the Spaniards, and all who should assist them, to the gods; and were now gathering in vast numbers to stop their progress.
This news surprised Cortes. He had supposed that the warlike Tlascalans would have welcomed him as a strong ally to aid them in their opposition to Montezuma; and that, at least, their friendship with the Chempoallans and Totonacas would have made them his friends. He was at a loss to know the meaning of their conduct: perhaps his messengers had proved treacherous; possibly the Tlascalans might have supposed that he was a secret friend to Montezuma; or it might be that they had heard of what he had done in the temple at Chempoalla, and were determined upon revenge. These thoughts passed rapidly through his mind; but the truth is, he was wrong in all: he had mistaken the character of the Tlascalans. They were a warlike, independent people. They had once been governed by kings, but had shaken off the yoke, and formed themselves into a sort of republic. They had divided themselves into districts: each district had its separate ruler, who was elected by the people, and who represented his province in the general senate of Tlascala. It was not to be supposed that people who had thus struggled for independence and made a government of their own, would receive a band of armed strangers kindly; and had Cortes known as much of them, he would hardly have expected it.
But surprise could not help him. He knew that a struggle was before him, and, without a sign of fear, he rallied his men for their march into Tlascala. Particular instructions were given to the different troops of his army, and then their beautiful standard was raised before them. Cortes, pointing to the banner, cried out, “Spaniards! follow boldly the standard of the Holy Cross, through which we shall conquer;” and the soldiers with one accord shouted, “On! on! in the name of God, in whom alone we place our trust.”
After a march of two leagues, the Spaniards came to a stone wall, which in former days had been thrown up by the Tlascalans to stop the invaders from Mexico. Finding no enemy, they easily crossed the wall and pressed on. It was not long now before the advanced guard of the army saw some of the Tlascalan troops, and had a slight skirmish. In a little time, as Cortes came forward with the main body, three thousand Tlascalans rushed from an ambush and poured in their arrows upon them. The Spaniards met this valiantly. After an obstinate struggle, the Indians were forced to give way and make their retreat. Yet Cortes marked that their retreat was made in an orderly and fearless manner, unlike the flight of most of the savages whom he had met; and he felt at once that he had to deal with no common Indians. He began therefore to be very particular in choosing the spots where his army should halt, and guarding the encampments through the night; and gave special command to the troops by no means to separate on their marches, but to proceed in solid and compact order.
The next day he was met by six thousand Tlascalans. These instantly attacked him, filling the air with their arrows, and making the plain echo with their yells, drums, and trumpets. But the cannons made sad havoc among them, and in a little time they gladly retreated to the top of a hill in the distance, from which they soon disappeared. Following on, Cortes reached at length the same height, when the whole Tlascalan army burst upon his sight. The plain far and wide was covered with the multitude. Forty thousand men were there, under the command of Xicotencatl, the general-in-chief of the Tlascalan republic. Undismayed by the numbers, he commanded his men to keep together at all hazards, and commenced at once descending the hill, amid flights of stones and arrows. They reached the plain: the cavalry and artillery were fairly brought into the action, and once more, after an hour’s hard fight, the Tlascalans retreated before them. This was an unfortunate day for the Tlascalans; multitudes of their men were slain—how many, it is impossible to say, for, like all Indians, they carried off their dead to conceal their losses. Eight of their chiefs fell, while two were made prisoners. The Spaniards had fifteen men wounded, of whom only one died. One of their horses, however, was killed. The Indians carried the body away in triumph, and, cutting it in pieces, sent parts of it to all the cities of Tlascala.
Though victorious, Cortes was not satisfied with this hard struggle. The loss of one man was sorely felt by him; and he felt, moreover, that if other nations should by any chance join the Tlascalans, there was no hope of success to his enterprise. He desired peace, therefore, and accordingly sent his two prisoners to their countrymen with offers of peace. To this friendly message, Xicotencatl only sent back this bold answer:—“Bid them proceed to Tlascala, where the peace they shall meet from us shall be displayed by the sacrifice of their hearts and blood to the gods, and of their bodies to our feasts.”
Cortes now very coolly informed his men that they were to make ready for another battle; and all that night they were busy in preparing their arms, ammunition, &c., and in making confession of their sins, and other acts of devotion. When morning dawned, they resumed their march, even the wounded men taking their places in the ranks. Ere long, they came again in sight of the Tlascalan army. It covered the plain for two leagues: there were no less than fifty thousand men now gathered to oppose them; the army was made up of five divisions, each division being under the command of a chief, and the whole led on by the general Xicotencatl. His banner, bearing a large white bird like a spread ostrich, was proudly carried before him. As the Spaniards came near, the Indians commenced the battle with a tremendous discharge of arrows, darts, and stones, and then, amid shouts and yells as usual, rushed directly upon them. The artillery-men at once opened their cannons upon them, while the musketeers and crossbow-men kept up a continual fire, literally cutting down the multitude in heaps. Still the raging Tlascalans pushed onward without fear, and succeeded, for a moment, in breaking through the Spanish lines. It required all the courage and skill of Cortes to bring his men back to their position. The cavalry now rushed over the plain, sweeping down masses before them. Yet the brave Tlascalans pressed on with their numbers. Wherever a man fell dead, it seemed another arose with fiercer spirit to revenge his death. Thus the battle raged furiously on both sides. At length it was seen by the Tlascalans that one of their divisions kept out of the fight, nor could be pressed into it—the chief who headed it being provoked with Xicotencatl. This discouraged them: they began to fall back, when one of their principal chiefs fell dead, and they were completely dismayed—the battle was ended. But for these circumstances, with all his skill and courage, Cortes had hardly prevailed against such numbers. It is very remarkable that in this fierce struggle the Spaniards had only one man killed. Seventy of their men, however, together with all their horses, were wounded. Some died of their wounds afterwards.
On the next morning, Cortes sent another message to the Tlascalans, demanding that he should be allowed to pass quietly through their territory, and threatening to desolate their whole country if they refused. But their fierce chiefs were not frightened: they did not yet feel that they were conquered, and determined to try his strength again. They now called together their priests, and demanded of them what could be the cause of their terrible defeat, and in what way they were to drive the invaders from their country. After performing many rites and sacrifices, the priests came forward and declared that the Spaniards were men like themselves, but were created by the heat of the sun in the regions of the East; that during the day they were not to be conquered, because they were guarded by the sun: at night they were not thus protected, and might then be easily overcome.
The Tlascalans made ready again. Numbers soon gathered themselves, under the command of Xicotencatl, for an attack at night. As they drew near the Spanish camp, the sentinels marked them, the alarm was given, the cavalry rushed forth, and after another fight the astonished Tlascalans fled in dismay. They were now convinced that the Spaniards were Teules—the multitudes began to cry out that it was time to make peace; that the Spaniards were invincible. Another fierce message came from Cortes, and the senate was willing to have peace. Xicotencatl, in a rage, refused for a long time to come to any terms; he was not used to being conquered; but at last his proud spirit bent, and he consented to lay down his arms.
They were now at a loss to settle how they should approach the Spanish chief; they did not know what to think of him. He must be gentle and kind, for he sometimes released his prisoners of war, contrary to their way of sacrificing and eating them; then again they thought he must be cruel and bloodthirsty, for they remembered that fifty spies sent out by Xicotencatl had once approached his camp too closely, and, by his order, their hands were instantly cut off. Then, too, his fierce messages, and the tremendous slaughter that he had made among them, were calculated to frighten them. At length, forty of their chief men were started off, loaded with a variety of presents, some of which they hoped might please him, whatever he might be. As they came near, one of them advanced to Cortes, and said: “If you are Teules, as it is said, and desire human sacrifices, take the flesh of these slaves and eat: shed their blood and drink. If you are gods of a kind nature, here is a gift of incense and feathers; and if you are men, we bring you meat and bread for your nourishment.” Soon after this, a large number of Tlascalans were seen approaching. Cortes supposed that they were coming for purposes of peace, yet instantly ordered his men to arms. Four of them now came forward with marks of profound respect, and offered him incense. They came, on the part of the Tlascalan senate, to make peace with him and his people. The Tlascalans (they declared) had opposed them only because they thought they were the friends of the cruel tyrant Montezuma, and were now sorry for it: they begged that they might be taken under the protection of Cortes. The Spanish chief quickly accepted their terms, and offered his protection and friendship to the whole republic. On the 23d of September (thirty-four days after reaching their territory), he triumphantly entered the city of Tlascala, the capital of their empire.
It was fortunate for Cortes that the war was thus ended, for some of his men were beginning to be dissatisfied; they had borne very cruel hardships. Every night half of them were on guard, while the other half only slept on their armor, ready to start up at any cry of danger. Fifty-five had perished since they entered the country, many were sick with diseases of the climate, and many were suffering from their wounds. Cortes was himself unwell, though he did not confess it. The number and fierceness of the Tlascalans, while it surprised all, had alarmed some, and these lived in the continual fear that they would be taken and sacrificed to the gods. It is not surprising, therefore, that murmurings commenced, and that many begged that they might return to Cuba. But when the Tlascalans surrendered, all were animated with new courage. Then the earnest friendship and submission of the Tlascalans (for Cortes was received very warmly in their capital) roused their drooping spirits the more. It is said that these Indians even reverenced the Spaniards now, saying that they were born in heaven. Certain it is that the horses and riders were looked upon as supernatural monsters: they believed that these monsters devoured men in battle, and that the neighing of the horses was their call for prey. Even when all was explained to them, they still held this belief. Their kindness and fears together drove away all discontent from the murmurers. No man sighed longer for the home left behind: all were greedy for the glory before them.
The submission of the Tlascalans prompted Cortes to speak to them about giving up their religion, with all its bloody rites; for, strange as it may seem when we look at some of his acts, Cortes never lost sight of the thought that the spread of the gospel was a part of the business of his enterprise. The Tlascalans refused, saying that while “the God of the Spaniards might be very great, they trusted in the gods of their forefathers.” Upon this he was angry, and instantly prepared to carry out such a plan as before in the temple at Chempoalla. But Father Olmedo entreated that this might not be done. He declared that this was not the way to spread the gospel, and that he had looked on with horror at the scene in Chempoalla. Alvarado, Velasquez de Leon, and Lugo joined in the entreaty, and Cortes was at last persuaded not to attempt it. His anger, however, served one good purpose. In the temples there were some poor wretches kept in cages, fattening for sacrifices, and Cortes caused all these to be set free.
Having allowed his men sufficient time to rest at Tlascala, Cortes determined to resume his march for Mexico. Some Mexicans now came forward and urged him to march through Cholula, a large town, where he would be kindly received. But the Tlascalans were opposed to this; they declared that the Cholulans were a treacherous people, devoted entirely to the interests of Montezuma, and that he would necessarily find himself there in the midst of enemies. Still Cortes resolved to pass through Cholula. He was anxious to please the Mexicans, and at the same time to teach the Tlascalans that he feared no enemy, whether concealed or open. With six thousand Tlascalans, therefore, in addition to his former numbers, he started for Cholula.
This town of Cholula was greatly celebrated for the temple of Quetzalcoatl that stood there. It was looked upon as the most sacred temple of the empire. Multitudes of pilgrims continually went there, and the sacrifices were almost daily. It is said that the Indians believed that this temple was built over secret springs of water, and that by pulling it down, these springs would burst forth into great rivers, and flood the whole surrounding country.[8] Some have supposed that this belief prompted the Mexicans to advise Cortes to go there: the secret springs of Quetzalcoatl were to be let loose, and prove the sure destruction of himself and his army.
As Cortes came near this town, the chiefs and priests marched out to meet him, bearing censers in their hands, and accompanied by a band of music. They received the Spaniards with profound respect; but when they saw the Tlascalans, they told Cortes plainly that all might enter their city except these, their old and bitter enemies. Cortes did not object to this; and at once ordering the Tlascalans to remain encamped outside, with great ceremony he entered Cholula. It was not a great while now before he began to be dissatisfied, and to suspect that the Tlascalans were right as to the character of these people; supplies of provisions began to be scantily furnished, and at last the Spaniards were left with nothing but wood and water. Ere long, some of the Chempoallans came to him and said that they had found secret pitfalls near the Spanish camp. These were large holes dug in the ground, having sharp stakes at the bottom, and covered over loosely with earth. Then some of the Tlascalans entered the city in disguise, and informed him that they had seen large numbers of women and children, loaded with valuable things, leaving the city by night; moreover, that six children had just been sacrificed in the temple, and this was a sure sign that the Cholulans intended something. Besides this, they had observed that many stones and darts had been collected on the tops of the temples. All this roused his suspicions very strongly. At length, Doña Marina came to him with certain information. She had learned the whole plan of the conspiracy. It seems that a Cholulan lady of high rank had become attached to her, and, desirous of saving Her life, told her of the plot, that she might escape. Twenty thousand Mexicans were at a short distance from the city, ready at a certain signal to join the Cholulans in the general massacre of the Spaniards. Cortes instantly ordered some of the chief priests to be seized; and when they discovered that the Spaniards, or Teules, as they called them, knew everything, they confessed the whole. The enmity and treachery of the Cholulans were now certain.
In his indignation and rage, at the first moment, Cortes was at a loss what to do; at the next, he resolved upon signal vengeance. No time was to be lost. His principal officers were at once called together and told of the danger which threatened them, and his determination to be revenged. Some were for retreating to Tlascala, but most of them were ready heart and hand to join Cortes in his plan. He immediately ordered the Tlascalans to storm the city at the dawn of the next day, and to spare nothing but the women and children; and then informed the Cholulans that he intended to resume his march on the following morning.
These last were greatly delighted on hearing this, and they made haste to carry out their plot. At the break of day, the chiefs, with forty Cholulans, came into the open square in front of the Spanish encampment, and presently an immense number of troops rushed in and joined them. Cortes now mounted his horse and addressed them, telling them of the blackness and extent of their treachery. He knew all about it: the Spaniards (he said) had entered their city under a promise of friendship, and since their entrance had not done one unkind act towards the Cholulans; that they had behaved peaceably, and in every way proved that they meant no harm; that at their request he had even ordered a part of his army (the Tlascalans) to keep outside of the city; and he now understood very well what they meant by that request—it was only made to separate the Spaniards from their friends, that they might the more easily destroy them. “If (cried Cortes) you had a natural hatred to men from whom you had received no wrong, why not oppose us manfully and bravely in the field, like the Tlascalans, instead of resorting to means so cowardly and so treacherous to show your hatred and effect our destruction? The victory which your gods have promised you, is beyond their power; the bloody sacrifices which you expected to offer up to them, cannot be accomplished; and the end of this dark plot will only be to turn the intended ruin against the guilty heads of its contrivers.”
The chiefs were completely confounded; they did not deny what he said, but at once commenced making excuses, saying that all was done by the order of Montezuma. But Cortes would have no excuse. He instantly ordered a musket to be fired; this was the signal to his men. The Spaniards sprang upon them, and the slaughter commenced; the whole square was soon a scene of horror. Multitudes were slain upon the spot, while some who fled only fell into the hands of the enraged Tlascalans, who were now pouring into the city. Some rushed to the temple of Quetzalcoatl and razed it to the ground, hoping that the waters would burst out and drown the Spaniards. But the rivers would not flow. They were in despair. Other temples were filled with crowds, entreating the gods to save them. The Spaniards now sallied from their quarters, and swept the streets with their artillery, literally piling them with the dead. Then they rushed to the temples, and demanded the poor wretches there to surrender. A proud and scornful answer was sent back to the summons: the temples were soon wrapped in flames; the Spaniards pressed on, and fire and sword soon completed the massacre. It is said that only one man surrendered; the rest choosing even to perish in the flames, or to throw themselves from the tops of the temples. Cholula was desolate: the streets rolled with the blood of six thousand men; dead bodies and half-burnt corpses lay scattered throughout them.
This horrid slaughter being ended, the Spaniards and Tlascalans now commenced plundering the houses and stripping the temples of all that was left. The savage ferocity of these last was almost beyond bounds. At length the heart of Cortes was moved with pity; he looked upon the scene of havoc with horror. He now ordered Xicotencatl, who was there with twenty thousand men, to leave the place, as he should need him no longer; and then issued his proclamation, promising pardon to all who had escaped the massacre, and inviting them to return to their homes. Some were now seen creeping from the masses of the dead, where they had lain wounded, and women and children came in from the mountains where they had fled. The Tlascalans were made to deliver up all their prisoners, and peace was established between them and the Cholulans, Cortes then appointed a brother of the late Cacique (who had been killed in the massacre) to rule over the city, and in sorrow declared to the Cholulans who were left, that the treacherous conduct of their people had alone forced him to this terrible work of slaughter.
Well might Cortes be sorry for what was done. Six thousand of his fellow-beings lay butchered before him.[9] All that can be said for him is, that he may have thought his conduct necessary for his own safety, and perhaps the Tlascalans carried the slaughter further than he intended. Yet this, which is all, is but a poor excuse for him. Perhaps it was his sorrow which prompted him earnestly to beg the Cholulans to leave off their bloody sacrifices and receive the Christian religion, and when they refused, to violate their temples no further than by setting free the poor wretches fastened in the cages for sacrifices.
AFTER remaining a fortnight at the unfortunate town of Cholula, Cortes prepared to march on; but, before starting, called his officers together, and determined upon sending a messenger to Montezuma, to tell him that he was coming. The messenger was likewise directed to inform him that the Cholulans charged him with the guilt of their conspiracy, but that the Spanish general could not believe them, for he could not think that he would thus attempt to murder men who had done him no harm; that he had heard that Montezuma was a powerful king, and thought if he had any unkind feeling towards him, he would meet him boldly in the open field, and not resort to the cowardly meanness of stratagem; moreover, that the Spaniards were ready for any difficulty, whether their enemies were secret or open.
The messenger found Montezuma very unhappy. The news of the massacre at Cholula completely overcame him. He could not think without horror of allowing the Spaniards to enter his capital; and yet (poor undecided man!) in his fright and sorrow, he returned an answer, inviting Cortes to visit his city, and solemnly declaring that he had no part in the guilt of the Cholulans. The messenger had scarcely left, before he began to mourn bitterly over what he had done.
In the mean time, Cortes had left Cholula, and was rapidly advancing towards Mexico. He met with no opposition by the way. Wherever he passed, the people cheered him on; everywhere he heard from them bitter complaints of the tyranny of Montezuma, mingled with prayers that he would deliver them. The Spaniards felt great joy: they saw that the empire was divided; that the people, even in the very neighborhood of the capital, were dissatisfied and ready to rise. Pressing on with renewed spirit, they at length reached the top of Ithualco, when the beautiful valley of Mexico burst upon their sight. Now they were greatly delighted. As far as the eye could see, rich meadows, cultivated fields, and beautiful forests covered the plain. In the midst, like a sheet of silver, lay the lake Tezcuco, skirted around with pretty villages; while from its centre rose glittering in the sun the lofty temples and turrets of the city of Mexico. They looked upon the country which they had long panted to see, and felt that it was as beautiful as they had expected.
While the Spaniards had thus marched as far as Ithualco, Montezuma was in the heaviest sorrow—still undecided—not knowing what to do. The news of Cholula had so much overwhelmed him, that he had gone to the palace of Tlillancalmecatl, the place to which he always went when he would mourn and pray. Here he remained eight days, fasting, grieving, and going through with many religious services, to please the gods. From this place he sent another messenger to Cortes, entreating him not to enter the city of Mexico, and making him rich promises if he would comply with his request. He would pay a yearly tribute to the King of Spain, and he would give four loads of gold to Cortes, and one to each of his men. The messenger found Cortes at Ithualco, and delivered his message; but the Spanish chief only sent back the old answer—that he must see Montezuma, and deliver the message of his master Don Carlos.
Before his messenger had time to return, Montezuma (with his fears greatly increased by the dreams and traditions of which his priests had told him) called in his brother Cuitlahuatzin, and his nephew Cacamatzin, the lord of Tezcuco, to advise with them as to what he should do. His brother urged that the Spaniards should not be allowed to enter the city, while the nephew advised that they should. The advice of the latter was taken; and the Emperor ordered him to go out and meet the Spanish chief, and in his name to speak to him very kindly. At the same time he told him, if it were possible, to dissuade Cortes from entering the city.
Four noblemen were instantly started for Cortes, to inform him that Cacamatzin, the lord of Tezcuco, and nephew of the great Montezuma, was coming, and to beg that he would wait to receive him. In a little time, Cacamatzin appeared upon a splendid litter, borne by eight of his principal men, and surrounded by a crowd of Mexicans and Tezcucans. The Spaniards were wonderfully struck with the richness of this litter. It was adorned with jewels and pillars of gold, and from every golden pillar there were branches of rich green feathers. The noblemen helped Cacamatzin to alight, and then swept the ground before him as he moved towards Cortes. The Spanish chief received him with great respect; but when he spoke of Montezuma’s wish, he received from Cortes the same stubborn answer that had always been given—that he must enter Mexico, and see the monarch himself.
Without waiting longer, Cortes pressed on towards the capital, along the causeway of Iztapalapan. He pretended on the way that he had friendly feelings towards Montezuma, and expected to be kindly received by him; but at the same time was very cautious, as he moved along, to avoid any stratagem. At length he came to a place called Xoloc, about half a league from the city, where the main road to Mexico is met by that to Cojohuacan. At this place there was a fortress, crowned with two towers. Here he found great numbers of the people assembled to look upon him and his companions, the strange beings of whom they had heard so much. A long train of Mexican nobles, clothed in their richest dresses, now came forward, and passing before Cortes, made a low bow, at the same time touching the ground and kissing their hands. Passing this place, he had almost reached the city, when messengers came out to inform him that the great Montezuma was approaching. Presently, a long procession was seen. Three officers, each bearing a golden rod, walked before, giving notice to the people that the monarch was coming, while they instantly threw themselves upon the ground, in token of respect. Montezuma was next seen, sitting upon a splendid litter, borne by four noblemen on their shoulders. Then came two hundred noblemen, dressed in their rich cotton mantles, and wearing large plumes on their heads. These marched two by two, barefooted, with their eyes cast down to the ground, afraid to look up in the presence of the King. The Spaniards were amazed at the scene; Cacamatzin’s appearance was forgotten in the splendor of this. The litter was covered with plates of gold, and surmounted by a splendid canopy of green feathers, beautifully ornamented with precious stones and golden fringes, while Montezuma himself was dressed most magnificently. He wore upon his head a crown of gold; upon his legs were gold buskins filled with precious stones; while, thrown loosely over his shoulders, hung a mantle bespangled with gold and gems. As he came near the Spanish chief, he was lifted from his litter, and borne upon the arms of the lords of Tezcuco and Iztapalapan, while the lords of Tacuba and Cojohuacan spread cotton mantles upon the ground, that the great King might not touch the earth with his feet. Cortes now dismounted his horse, and came forward with great respect, “addressing the King with deep reverence, after the fashion of Europe.” Montezuma, following the fashion of his country, returned his compliment by touching the ground and then kissing it. Cortes then came near, and threw around his neck a thin collar of gold, strung with glass beads of different colors. This greatly pleased the King. Cortes would then have embraced him, but the nobles of Montezuma held him back.
This meeting raised the Spaniards greatly in the esteem of the Mexicans. Thousands had assembled to see it: the whole causeway was covered with the crowd, while the tops of houses and windows were filled with the multitude. Never before had they seen their great Emperor Montezuma do reverence to any man; for the first time in their lives, they saw him leave his palace, to greet with kindness a band of strangers. Naturally enough, they now thought the Spaniards were Teules, or deities indeed!
The feelings of the Spaniards were likewise strange. It was now the eighth day of November (seven months since their landing in the country), and they had at length reached the rich and beautiful city of Mexico. There it was, with its lofty domes and turrets, its splendid houses, and great masses of people. They felt already that they were rich. But with all this, they could not help thinking of other things. They were a band of four hundred and fifty men only, far away from home, in the heart of an unknown and populous country; they might enter that rich city only to be borne down by the multitudes; perhaps treachery might destroy them; the bridges of the causeways might be lifted, and all chance of escape be for ever cut off. Joy and anxiety filled their hearts.
They marched into the city more than a mile, before they came to the place which Montezuma had ordered to be made ready for their reception. This was the old palace of King Axajacatl, the father of Montezuma. Montezuma now took Cortes by the hand, and leading him to a large hall covered with tapestry and embroidered with gold and gems, said to him, “Malitzin, you and your companions are now in your own house: refresh and rest yourselves until my return.” He, with all the Mexicans, then left him.
Cortes found his quarters very comfortable: there was ample room for all his men, as well as his Indian allies. Montezuma had no sooner left, than he began to examine them with great care, to see that all was safe. He next ordered the artillery to fire their guns, by way of frightening the Mexicans, and then commenced putting his quarters in a state of defence. Guns were fixed in front of the gate, sentinels were posted round, and his men were commanded to act with the same prudence as though they were facing the camp of an enemy.
In a little time, Montezuma returned in the same splendid style as when he met Cortes on the causeway. He had brought with him rich presents for the Spanish general, and remained some time with him. It is said that he now told Cortes freely of his fears as regards the Spaniards; stating that it was not a great while since his ancestors came from the North, to rule the country only until Quetzalcoatl, the great god and lawful king, should return, and that these Spaniards (he believed) were his subjects. Cortes very artfully encouraged this belief in him, because he knew it would help his designs. At all events, he received the presents very kindly from Montezuma, and then talked to him of the greatness of his master Don Carlos. He was the greatest monarch in the world, and had sent him to make a treaty of friendship with the great Emperor of Mexico. He wished to alter certain laws and customs in his kingdom, and to offer him a religion far better than the bloody religion of Mexico. After the talk, they parted seemingly good friends on both sides.
The next day, Cortes, together with Alvarado, Sandoval, Velasquez de Leon, and Ordaz, paid a visit to Montezuma. They were received kindly, and the three following days were appointed by the Emperor for them to look at his capital. Their first visit in the morning was to the great square or market-place, Tlateloco. On one side, numbers of slaves were exposed for sale; on another, were vegetables, fruits, &c.; here were meats and poultry, and there were merchants selling all manner of furniture. The whole place was crowded with buyers and sellers, while perfect order was kept throughout. Three judges sat at one end of the square, while a number of officers moved through the crowd, to prevent riot or confusion. There were other small market-places scattered throughout the city, containing fountains, fish-ponds, and beautiful gardens; but this was the principal place for buying and selling in Mexico. From this place they went to the great temple of Mexico, passing through several large courts enclosed by heavy double walls, and paved with white cut stones. It seems that Montezuma, when he gave them permission to visit the city, had been afraid that the Spaniards might offer some violence to his gods in the temple, and consequently had gone there with many of his nobles. Cortes now met him. There were one hundred and fourteen steps to the temple—and Montezuma at once ordered six priests to lift Cortes up; but the Spaniard preferred walking up himself. When he reached the top of the platform, there were several large stones or altars for sacrificing, and at a little distance stood a horrid figure of a dragon, besmeared with blood. Montezuma came forward, and asked Cortes to look down upon his city now. From this high spot he could see everything: the whole city and surrounding country lay spread out before him. It was impossible to count the number of boats passing all the time between Mexico and the towns on the shore of the lake: and the crowds below in the streets of the city surprised Cortes more than ever. He now desired that he might see the principal gods of the temple, and after talking with his priests, Montezuma consented. The Spaniards were now carried into a large hall, the walls of which were smeared with blood, and the roof curiously carved and ornamented. Here they saw two altars, richly dressed, and behind them the figures of two monstrous men. The face of one of these images expressed terrible passion and rage; his body was ornamented with precious stones, while an immense golden serpent was coiled around him. On his neck there was a collar, covered with heads and hearts wrought in gold. In his right hand he held a bow, in his left a bundle of arrows. Before him was a large fire, in which Cortes saw at the moment three human hearts burning. This was Huitzilopochtli, the god of war. By the side of the god, there was standing a little image, bearing a beautifully ornamented lance and shield: this was the page of the god. The other large figure had a face like a bear, with great shining eyes. In the fire before him there were five hearts. This was Tezcatlipoca, the god of providence, and brother of Huitzilopochtli. Next, on the top of the temple, he was shown the great religious drum. This was an immense drum, covered with the skin of a serpent. When this drum was struck, the doleful sound, it is said, could be heard for two leagues. Then they showed him the large knives for sacrifices, reeking with fresh blood, together with the horns and trumpets of the temple. Cortes now turned away in disgust, and demanded of Montezuma why he worshipped such monstrous idols, and allowed his people to be butchered before them. The King was very angry: he declared that Cortes should never have entered the temple, had he supposed that he would thus insult the gods. In a rage, he cried out—“Go, go hence, while I remain to appease the wrath of the gods, whom you have justly provoked by your blasphemous words!”
Cortes, with his companions, now passed out to a tower that was near by. At the entrance, which was always open, there were many idols, resembling serpents and other loathsome beasts. Upon entering, the Spaniards found in one part of the building piles of wood near a large reservoir of water, together with pots of water ready to boil the flesh of victims who were sacrificed, as food for the priests. In another part, were the tombs of the Mexican nobles; in another, were seen immense piles of human bones, curiously but regularly laid up. As in the temple, so in this tower priests were moving about in their long black mantles, with their ears cut and torn, and their long hair clotted with blood.
When Cortes again returned to his quarters, the Tlascalans came around him, talking earnestly of what they had often talked before—the treachery of Montezuma. They declared that he and his people were all crafty and treacherous: they knew them well; that the kind reception given to the Spaniards was only intended to deceive them; and that they believed they had been allowed to enter the city only that the bridges of the causeways might be lifted, all chance of escape cut off, and the whole of them be thus massacred. Moreover, that the Emperor was a fickle and uncertain man. Even if he was their friend now, he was likely, in some moment of passion, without any cause, to become their bitterest enemy. This increased the alarm which Cortes already felt about the same thing, for it was no news to him that Montezuma was treacherous. His own soldiers were ignorant of the fact, but Cortes perfectly understood it. Whatever Montezuma might say as to his innocence in the affair at Cholula, Cortes knew that he had made an effort to destroy his colony at Villa Rica. This he heard at Cholula, but carefully kept it from his men, fearful of discouraging them.[10]
It seems that after Cortes left that settlement, Montezuma sent to Quauhpopoca (the lord of Nauhtlan, a city on the coast) his secret orders to subdue the Totonacas, and punish them for their friendship to the Spaniards. The chief immediately attacked all their settlements. The poor Totonacas applied to the Spaniards at Villa Rica to help them. Juan de Escalante, who had charge at the post, instantly sent his orders to Quauhpopoca to cease troubling these Indians. Upon this, Quauhpopoca sent back for answer, that “if the Spaniards were disposed to take up the cause of the Totonacas, he was ready to meet them in the plains of Nauhtlan.” Juan de Escalante now went out to meet him with fifty Spaniards, two thousand Totonacas, two cannons, and two horses. At the first attack of the Mexicans, the Totonacas fled. In spite of numbers, Escalante and his little band continued the fight: with their cannons, forced the Mexicans from the field, pursuing them and cutting many to pieces as far as the city of Nauhtlan. The victory was theirs, but they paid for it dearly: seven Spaniards and one horse were killed, and the brave Escalante, who was severely wounded, died three days afterward. One Spanish prisoner was taken, badly wounded. Fortunately, he died of his wounds, and thereby escaped being sacrificed. Quauhpopoca caused his head to be cut off, and after carrying it in triumph through many cities, to show the people that the Spaniards might be killed as well as others, at last sent it as a present to Montezuma.
Cortes had felt a deep sorrow for the death of Escalante; and the recollection of the cause of it, together with the suspicions of the Tlascalans, induced him now to seek some of his Indians whom he supposed were not prejudiced, and to inquire of them if they had seen anything like treachery on the part of the Mexicans. These thought that the common people showed no signs of it, but they were doubtful about others. Some of the nobles had been overheard saying that it would be an easy thing to break down the bridges on the causeways. It was likewise reported that Montezuma had seen the head of a Spaniard that had been sent to him by one of his generals, and then ordered it to be secretly taken away, that it might not be known to Cortes. This was, no doubt, the head of the poor Spaniard sent by Quauhpopoca.
Cortes was now greatly alarmed; he felt assured that treachery was at work. With a heart full of anxiety, he went to his quarters, where he spent the whole night walking to and fro over the floor. A thousand plans floated through his mind: none pleased him; yet it was necessary to act promptly and decidedly. At last a thought crossed him, the very boldness of which made even Cortes shudder. His plan was formed. He would seize Montezuma himself, and make him a prisoner. This would secure his safety; the Mexicans would hardly attempt any act of violence when the life of their King was in his hands. He and his brave companions might perish in the attempt, but it were better to die in it than to be cut to pieces retreating, or be massacred in the streets of Mexico. The next morning, by his command, all his officers were assembled. Cortes now told them of the danger which threatened them. He declared that Montezuma was treacherous; the affair at Villa Rica, and consequent death of Escalante, plainly showed it; that even now his treachery was at work; the Tlascalans had suspected it, but it was now proved; his nobles had been overheard, secretly talking of breaking down the bridges. For his part, he was resolved upon what he would do. The danger was great, the remedy hazardous; but he would die or accomplish it. He would seize Montezuma, and bring him a prisoner to his quarters. The officers were startled by this bold declaration. Some cried out that it was impossible: if undertaken, it would prove the sure destruction of all the Spaniards; others thought it best to retreat back to Villa Rica as fast as they could; but Velasquez de Leon and Sandoval agreed with their leader, saying that it could and must be done. The matter was talked over a long time, until at last they all agreed that the plan of Cortes should be executed at all hazards.
Cortes now proceeded with great prudence. It would not do to march with his soldiers in a body to the palace of the King: this would at once rouse the Mexicans. He chose, therefore, Alvarado, Sandoval, Velasquez de Leon, Lugo, and Davila, five of his best tried officers, together with five of his bravest soldiers, to accompany him. Twenty-five picked men were to follow on at intervals, strolling along as though they were brought to the palace by accident. Christoval de Olid and Diego de Ordaz were placed in command of all the soldiers left behind, with orders to be ready to rush out at the first alarm.
He now marched to the palace. Without suspicion, he was admitted, and received kindly by the King. In a little time, Cortes began, in a very severe way, to upbraid him about the conduct of Quauhpopoca. It was by his advice (he said) that his people at Villa Rica had been disturbed. He believed now that he was also guilty of contriving the plot of Cholula, and was sorry to find so great a monarch acting so meanly. He had not spoken of this before, from motives of prudence, but now that he had discovered another plot preparing in Mexico, he came to assure him that he should protect his men at all hazards. When Doña Marina and Aguilar interpreted the language of the general, Montezuma changed color, and was for some time speechless. At length he spoke, solemnly declaring that he was innocent. He had given no orders to Quauhpopoca to trouble the Spaniards. Then taking from his wrist the signet of Huitzilopochtli, he gave it to some of his officers, with a positive command to seize Quauhpopoca and bring him to Mexico. Cortes now expressed himself well pleased; in his own mind (he said) he was satisfied of his innocence. But the Spaniards were dissatisfied and alarmed, and ready to rise. One thing alone he believed could pacify them, and make them feel perfectly safe: that was, for Montezuma to leave his palace, and take up his abode in the Spanish quarters. Montezuma was now enraged; he could scarcely speak. He cried out, that he would never thus humble himself; that the Kings of Mexico were not used to surrendering themselves prisoners without a struggle; and if he were base enough to do so, his people would rise in a mass. Cortes, in reply, expressed his surprise that the King should think himself a prisoner, for removing to the Spanish quarters; that it was only returning to the palace of his old father Axajacatl, and that the Mexicans could neither be alarmed nor surprised at it. But no persuasion could move him; he was firmly resolved not to go. Velasquez de Leon, seeing his resolution, now cried out very angrily, “Why should we waste more time in words? He must yield himself our prisoner, or we will forthwith stab him to the heart! Let us secure our lives, or perish at once.” His fierce and threatening manner startled Montezuma. He turned to Doña Marina, and asked what that fierce Spaniard meant. She at once answered, “Prince, I am your subject, and am anxious for your safety; but, as the friend of these strangers, I know their characters. Yield to their request, and they will treat you with every kindness; refuse it, and they will not hesitate to take your life.” Montezuma was now completely subdued, and readily consented to go. “Let us, then, depart to your quarters,” he said; “the gods have decreed it so, and I trust myself to your honor.” Cortes now caused him to call some of his lords, and inform them that it was his choice and pleasure to make his home in the Spanish quarters. He was then placed upon his splendid litter, and carried from his palace. The Mexicans, hearing what was done, were greatly roused: they thought the Spaniards were stealing away their King, and made awful threats against them. But when they saw the litter passing through the streets, surrounded by the officers of the Emperor, and Montezuma waved his hand to them in token of command, they were at once satisfied and quiet.
IN a little time, Montezuma became quite satisfied in the Spanish quarters. He was treated as the King of Mexico, and his government went on as usual. His chiefs were allowed to visit him, and his nobles served up for him his splendid feasts as before in his own palace. It is said, that after feasting, he would frequently send what was left as a present to the Spanish soldiers. They shared his kindness in another way. He became very fond of Cortes and Alvarado, and amused himself by playing with them a game called bodoque, and all his winnings at the game were given to the soldiers. Naturally enough, this kindness, together with the commands of Cortes, induced the men to treat him with great respect. Cortes was very strict on this point; he had one of his men, on one occasion, severely whipped, for using rude words toward the monarch. Montezuma was also allowed to visit the temple, and go out upon the chase sometimes; but on these occasions he was always attended by a body of Spaniards, to prevent his being rescued. Though a prisoner, he was still the King, and felt happy.
This happiness did not last long, however. At the end of a fortnight, Quauhpopoca and some of his companions in the attack on Escalante were brought prisoners to Mexico. Though a prisoner, Quauhpopoca was borne upon a splendid litter like a conquering hero. He at once sought Montezuma, and presented himself before him as one who had faithfully obeyed his orders. To his surprise and confusion, the King treated him coldly, and ordered him to be delivered immediately to Cortes. He was now put to the torture, and confessed that all he had done was by command of his King. A court, made up of Spaniards, then tried him, and condemned him to be burnt alive. Cortes went now to Montezuma, and told him of the confession of Quauhpopoca, and the punishment he was to suffer; adding, very sternly, that he too would be put to death but for his late acts of kindness: his life would be spared, but that he was not to escape all punishment for his treachery. With that, he ordered a Spaniard, who had brought a pair of iron fetters along, to fasten them upon the legs of Montezuma. It was instantly done, and Cortes left him, to punish Quauhpopoca. The poor King of Mexico was confounded and speechless. His nobles who attended him clung to his fetters, and wept bitterly.
Cortes now gathered a large quantity of bows, arrows, and darts, from the Mexican armory, and caused an immense fire to be made of them directly in front of Montezuma’s palace. Quauhpopoca and three other chiefs (some say fifteen others) soon perished in the flames. Thousands of Mexicans looked calmly upon the scene; no resistance was made, for they thought it was all done by the command of the King. This horrible act being ended, Cortes again went to Montezuma, spoke kindly to him, and with his own hands took off his fetters. To carry his kindness further, he now told him that he was at liberty, and might return, if he pleased, to his own palace. This last was only a pretence of kindness, for Cortes knew very well that Montezuma dared not go. The people had just seen the death of the brave general Quauhpopoca, and Montezuma knew that he would probably suffer for the guilt of it.
Though the Mexicans made no resistance at the time, the insolent bearing of the Spaniards, before the very palace of their King, had roused the anger of many. The proud spirit of Cacamatzin, the lord of Tezcuco, was greatly excited. He at once gathered together a body of the nobles at Tezcuco, and they resolved to declare war upon the Spaniards. They were quickly busy in making their preparations, and the rumor of their intentions soon spread. Cortes began to feel alarmed for his safety, and Montezuma began to be startled with the thought of losing his crown; for, with the rumors, came the story that Cacamatzin intended to seize the reins of government, thinking that his uncle had disgraced both himself and the empire. They both sent messengers to Cacamatzin, commanding him to leave off his warlike preparations; but Cacamatzin only sent back this proud answer: “That his country was disgraced; that the Spaniards could no longer deceive or frighten him; they must leave Mexico, and return to their own country, or take the storm that was gathering.” Cortes now proposed to march out and attack him. Montezuma, however, advised him not to do this, stating that Tezcuco was a strongly-fortified city, the second in the empire, and he would only perish in the attempt. He sent, therefore, another message to his nephew, inviting him to come up to the capital and visit him, at which time all difficulties might be happily settled. Cacamatzin was now more indignant than ever: he declared to his followers that his uncle was more a friend to the strangers than to his own people. He sent for answer this time, that he would come to the capital, but not to waste words in idle talk: he would come to destroy the Spaniards. Finding his nephew thus resolute, Montezuma now determined to make him a prisoner. He took his signet from his arm, and giving it to some of his nobles, commanded them secretly to seize his rebel nephew, and bring him a prisoner to Mexico. His order was soon carried out. In a little time, the nobles returned, bringing Cacamatzin. Montezuma rebuked him, and then delivered him to Cortes. He was at once thrown into prison, and his brother Cuitcuitzcatzin sent out in splendid style to take charge of the province of Tezcuco.
Made bold by his success in this matter, Cortes now resolved that Montezuma should declare himself subject to the King of Spain. He went to him, and told him that it was his desire that he should acknowledge the authority of the King of Spain over him, and subject his kingdom to a yearly tribute in token of dependence. The poor captive monarch, in great sorrow, soon assented to this. He called all his lords and nobles together in a great hall in the Spanish quarters. With sobs and tears, he reminded them of the old tradition that the sons of Quetzalcoatl were to come and rule the Mexican empire; that he held it, as they knew, only till that time; the time was now come; the Spaniards (he believed) were the sons of Quetzalcoatl, and he was ready to recognise the title of the King of Spain over his dominions. His chiefs and lords heard this declaration in silent grief; yet they gave their consent; for, like the King, they believed the tradition: they were afraid to resist. Montezuma informed Cortes that on the next day they would all swear allegiance to the Spanish King. Accordingly, on the day following, it was done in the presence of all the Spanish officers, and even their hearts (it is said) were moved when they witnessed the sorrow of Montezuma as he took that oath.
One step led on to another. Cortes next resolved to persuade him that it was right and proper that his empire should send a rich present of jewels, gold, and silver, to the King of Spain. It was soon done. To this also he assented: he brought forward his own treasures liberally, at the same time sending commands to all his lords throughout the kingdom to bring in their portions. Within twenty days, an amount equalling six hundred thousand dollars, besides jewels, was collected at Mexico. Cortes now proceeded to divide this treasure. One fifth part was for the King of Spain; one fifth part for himself; from the balance was to be taken what he, Velasquez, and others, had expended in fitting out the expedition; and then the remainder was to be equally divided among the men, according to their rank. The soldiers were dissatisfied with this division, especially the part given to the King of Spain, who had never aided them in any way in the enterprise; but Cortes managed to pacify them by giving secret presents to some, and offering promises and prospects to all.
The Spanish chief had rolled upon a tide of fortune thus far; but now it began to turn. Matters had come to such a pass, that some of the Mexican nobles, forgetting their traditions and their fears, began seriously to think of forcing the Spaniards from Mexico. Their King was a captive, Quauhpopoca murdered, Cacamatzin in prison, their gods insulted, and the whole country, in fact, under the control of strangers. This was more than could be borne. They began to hold secret meetings, and sometimes to meet Montezuma secretly. Matters were freely talked over: the priests, who hated the Spaniards, threw in their advice, and all this ended in a solemn resolution that the Spaniards should leave the city. They were afraid, however, to attack them openly, so long as Montezuma was in their possession. They were to be got off peaceably, if possible, and therefore another plan was adopted. Montezuma sent for Cortes, and told him that “he had already been in his capital six months, and there was no reason in his remaining any longer. He wished him, therefore, to depart as speedily as possible. His priests, his nobles, and his people were all dissatisfied, and determined that the Spaniards should no longer remain in the land. Moreover, that it was the will of the gods that the strangers who had insulted them should be expelled, or sacrificed.” This was said very sternly by the King, and Cortes, who had heard that a conspiracy was at work, felt that it must be strong when Montezuma could speak to him so boldly. He knew, too, if the Mexicans did rise against him, it was death to his hopes. He very artfully, therefore, answered the King that his demand was very reasonable; that he had himself already thought of leaving Mexico. He could not, however, leave immediately; his ships had been destroyed, and it was necessary to build new ones. He hoped the Mexicans would allow him time to make his preparations. Montezuma was greatly pleased. The thought of his departure was real joy to him. He embraced Cortes, and promised him not only time to make his preparations, but that he would assist him in making them. He sent out his order that some of his men should at once go to the woods to cut timber for the Spaniards, and that some of his carpenters should set to work in helping them to build their ships. Cortes left Montezuma feeling very happy himself; he saw he had deceived the King: he had no thought of leaving the country, and was hoping, during the time allowed him, that he might gain strength in some way to meet any difficulty. At the end of a week, however, ships appeared on the coast. Montezuma, hearing of this, sent for him again, and told him there was no necessity for his remaining any longer to build his vessels; ships were off the coast, and he must start immediately.
Cortes felt more joy than sorrow. The news of the ships delighted him; he thought instantly of Portocarrero and Montejo, the messengers whom he had sent to Spain to get the authority of Don Carlos. Nine months had passed away since they left him; he had looked for them eagerly before, and supposed they had now arrived with fresh troops to help him in his conquest. In this he was sadly disappointed. The truth was, that his very messengers had betrayed him. Contrary to their positive orders, they had stopped at Cuba, on their way to Spain. Portocarrero being sick, Montejo had forced the pilot, Alaminos, to touch at Havana, under pretence of getting supplies from his estate. The ship had no sooner cast anchor, than he sent a sailor ashore with letters to Velasquez. The Governor was more enraged than ever; from that moment, he had used all his efforts to ruin Cortes. The eighteen ships on the coast were under the command of Pamphilo de Narvaez, and he had been sent out by him, at the head of eight hundred soldiers, with positive orders to seize Cortes and his principal officers, and send them prisoners to Cuba. It was not long before Cortes understood the whole.
Narvaez had made a landing on the coast of Chempoalla, and was soon joined by three Spanish deserters. These told him that Cortes was in a forlorn and wretched condition, and might easily be taken. Narvaez was made bold by such news. He immediately sent off Guevara, a priest, with a company, to Sandoval (who was commanding at Villa Rica since the death of Escalante), to demand that he should surrender that place. Sandoval refused to do so, and when the priest proved insolent, told him that his sacred order alone protected him. Upon this, Guevara was very angry: the quarrel became high, and Sandoval seized him and his companions, and sent them prisoners to Mexico. Upon their arrival there, Cortes very prudently received them kindly; he took off their fetters, expressed himself sorry for the conduct of Sandoval, made them many rich presents, and in this way completely won them over as friends. They now talked to him freely of Narvaez and the strength of his forces: said that he had declared to the Indians that Cortes was a traitor and tyrant, keeping their King a prisoner, and that he was sent out by the King of Spain to set them free. They stated, too, that Montezuma was sending secret messages to him, and that several of the Mexican provinces had openly declared in his favor.
Cortes was now in a very dangerous and trying position. It was idle for him to march out and meet Narvaez with all his fresh and numerous troops; to release Montezuma, and attempt to retreat from Mexico, would prove sure destruction; to remain where he was, in an enemy’s city, and wait for Narvaez to attack him, would prove equally unsafe. His courage, however, did not forsake him. He was resolved upon one thing—that he would never leave as a prisoner the country that he had entered as a conqueror, and never allow another to reap the glory which he thought he had earned. Narvaez was, he supposed, his most dangerous enemy, and he turned his thoughts towards him. He made up his mind that before long he must come to a battle with him, but, in the mean time, he would try to win him as a friend: if he failed in that, he would try to break up his strength by bringing over some of his officers. He selected, as the messenger whom he would send to him, Father Olmedo, whose prudence he had tried before this. He was to propose terms of friendship; if he failed in carrying this point, he was to use his arts in making friends in his army. Accordingly, Olmedo was sent off with letters to Narvaez and some of his officers—among the rest, Andres de Duero, the old friend of Cortes, who was fortunately one of them—together with many rich presents for them from Cortes.