Narvaez received him with great scorn. He declared that he would soon cut off the head of the traitor Cortes, and put all his followers to death. It was in vain that Father Olmedo reasoned with him, telling him that the Spaniards were brothers; that the glory of their common country required that they should turn their forces against the Mexicans, and that Cortes was ready to do so. Narvaez would hear no terms of peace whatever. Finding that he failed in this point, Olmedo remembered the other. He mingled with the men, talked with them freely, delivered the rich presents of Cortes, and soon won over some of the officers. Fortunately, just at this time, Guevara and his companions returned. They talked loudly of the generosity of Cortes, and the glory that was before the Spaniards, if they would only join forces; declaring that no better leader could be found than Cortes, and that it was a shame to take the command from him after all his perils. Narvaez, only the more enraged at all this, ordered Guevara never again to speak to him of terms of friendship between him and Cortes, and immediately issued his proclamation, declaring Cortes and all his followers rebels to Don Carlos, and traitors to their country.
Upon Olmedo’s return, Cortes felt at once that he was to have a struggle with Narvaez, and that the sooner it was met the better. Leaving one hundred and fifty of his men, therefore, at Mexico, under the command of Alvarado, with particular instructions to guard Montezuma closely, he started with the remainder of his forces to meet him. What he most feared was the cavalry of Narvaez. To enable his soldiers to meet these, he sent Tobilla to Chinantla to get from the Cacique three hundred of the long spears used by his warriors in battle. He pushed on very rapidly towards Chempoalla, having no baggage or artillery to delay him. At Tapanacuetla (a village thirty miles from that place), he was joined by Sandoval and his men from Vera Cruz. His whole force now amounted only to two hundred and fifty men; yet they were brave men, ready to face any danger. Determined, if possible, not to shed the blood of his countrymen, Cortes once more sent Father Olmedo to bring Narvaez to terms of peace. Again he was received with scorn, and again set himself to the work of intriguing with the men. Another messenger was now sent; this was Velasquez de Leon. It seems that Narvaez had counted surely upon his friendship, remembering that he was a kinsman to Velasquez, and had written him a letter, urging him to join him. This Velasquez de Leon had very proudly and indignantly refused to do. Cortes was greatly delighted with this proof of his friendship; and thinking it would help his cause, now sent De Leon also a messenger to Narvaez. He was received with great attention. Narvaez made him brilliant offers: he should be second in command, and earn great glory, if he would only abandon Cortes. Velasquez de Leon again refused, declaring that he would die, sooner than desert such a noble commander as Cortes; that he had already earned great glory for his country; and as he had begun the conquest, he was the best man to finish it. Narvaez and some of his officers were now very angry, and spoke abusively of Cortes and his followers. This was more than De Leon could brook; he was enraged at hearing his brave companions thus spoken of, and laid his hand upon his weapon. Fortunately, some of the more prudent Spaniards came forward at this moment, and urged him and Father Olmedo to leave the camp. They left, but many friends were left behind them. The soldiers of Narvaez had begun to look upon their leader as obstinate and stubborn. The messengers had scarcely gone, when, in a rage, he offered a reward of two thousand crowns for the heads of Cortes and Sandoval. Hearing, too, that Cortes had been bold enough to come within a league of Chempoalla, he at once set his army in motion to give him a battle.
Fortunately for Cortes, one of Narvaez’ men deserted his camp, and informed him of what was done. Narvaez had drawn up his whole army in a large plain near Chempoalla, and determined there to wait for him. Cortes was not so imprudent as to meet him there with his little handful of men. He kept quiet, therefore, on the other side of the river Canoas, which runs near Chempoalla, determined to wait for some better opportunity. A heavy fall of rain now set in, and the soldiers of Narvaez, unaccustomed to hardships, began to murmur and complain. It was idle, they said, to remain in such a storm; Cortes and his few followers would not dare to approach them at such a time. Some of the officers joined with them, and persuaded Narvaez to take them back to their quarters in Chempoalla. Having carried them back he posted two sentinels at the ford of the river to watch the enemy, and sent a number of horsemen to keep a lookout upon the road leading to the town, and to move around his quarters. In the mean time, Cortes and his little army stood drenched in the rain without a murmur; every man seemed happy and contented. Naturally supposing that Narvaez and his men would be weary and unsuspicious of his approach after such a day, he determined to attack them at midnight, while they were all in their quarters. Accordingly, he called his little band around him, told them of his design, and made a stirring speech to them. He spoke of the sufferings and dangers they had borne, the victories they had won, and the glorious prospects before them; and now he said they had been declared rebels and traitors by their unnatural countryman Narvaez. As he went on, he was interruptcd by the shouts of the soldiers; and when he finished, they all declared that they would follow such a leader for ever. Some went so far (it is said) as to swear they would kill Cortes if he tried again to make peace with Narvaez. He thanked them for their love, and warmly praised their courage. His little army was now divided into three parties. The command of the first was given to Sandoval. This had the most difficult duty to perform: it was to seize the artillery of the enemy, and Cortes placed in it, therefore, some of his picked men. The second division was intrusted to Christoval de Olid: he was to storm the town, and take possession of Narvaez. Cortes himself led the third party: this was to act as a body of reserve, and rush to the support of either party that required it. The rain had swollen the river so much, that it was dangerous to pass it; yet, with the waters rising to their breasts, they all crossed the ford. Every man being armed with his sword, dagger, and spear, they now moved on silently and in regular order. The guard in advance fortunately caught one of the sentinels, but the other fled to the city and gave the alarm. This caused Cortes to move on more rapidly. But Narvaez would not believe the sentinel; he thought it impossible that Cortes should be moving on such a night, and rebuked him as a coward who had been frightened. No horsemen were seen to interrupt him on the road (they were probably tired, and had taken shelter from the rain), and thus Cortes reached at midnight, unobserved, the principal temple of Chempoalla, where Narvaez held his quarters. A long row of artillery guarded the entrance to the temple, but no time was to be lost. Cortes gave the signal for attack. Sandoval and his brave followers rushed forward so fiercely, that the enemy only fired three guns, when they were forced to take to their other weapons. He now drove them back from their guns, and, amid a shower of arrows and balls, began to press his way up the steps of the temple. Numbers poured out and crowded the steps; still Sandoval kept the guns, and maintained his ground at great hazard, in spite of all opposition. Narvaez was not idle; he was up, and rallying his men. Christoval de Olid and Cortes now rushed to the assistance of Sandoval, bearing down everything before them. Sandoval reached the temple-door, and tried to burst it open, but failed. In the mean time, one of the soldiers had fired the tower: it was in a blaze; multitudes were rushing from it. Sanchez Farzan, one of the soldiers, now struck Narvaez with his spear. He instantly fell, was seized, dragged down the steps, and fastened with fetters. The news was soon spread that Narvaez was dead: shouts of victory rang through the air; his followers were confounded. His soldiers in the two smaller towers were in the greatest confusion. In their fright and consternation, they even took the fire-flies, in the darkness, to be soldiers’ matches; all was despair. In spite of the entreaties of Diego Velasquez and Salvatierra, they laid down their arms and surrendered. The battle was ended; the prisoners were all put under the charge of Sandoval, who had them carried to a safe place, under a guard of picked soldiers.
The next morning found Cortes a conqueror, seated on a chair, surrounded by all his brave officers. The conquered officers passed before him, and kissed his hand. Right glad were they to make a friend of him now. He now sent Lugo to the fleet to bring off the pilots and sailors, and then to dismantle the ships, to prevent any one from returning to Cuba. Next he ordered all the prisoners to be set free, except Narvaez and Salvatierra, and then offered to send them all back to Cuba, or take them as his soldiers. The men had seen his bravery: they now saw his generosity; his followers, too, seemed to have plenty of gold and trinkets; and, almost to a man, they consented to join him. They felt that glory was before them, and that Cortes was the commander to lead them on. He was now fairly at the head of an army, together with one hundred horses, plenty of ammunition, and abundance of military stores.
SCARCELY was the victory won, when a courier arrived in hot haste from Alvarado. The Mexicans had risen in the capital; two brigantines, which Cortes had built to command the lake, were destroyed,—seven Spaniards had been killed,—and Alvarado was now closely besieged in his quarters. Cortes was greatly startled by these sad tidings. He knew that the force of Alvarado, though brave, was small, and instantly commenced preparations for his departure. In the midst of these, two other messengers arrived, heaping curses upon Alvarado, declaring that his rashness and folly alone had brought about this disaster.
It seems that Cortes had scarcely left Mexico, when the inhabitants of that city began to think of attacking his countrymen. They knew that he was the great leader of true Spaniards, and thought that during his absence they might rescue Montezuma, and revenge themselves thoroughly. Many secret meetings had been held by them for the purpose of completing their plans, and all was nearly ripe for action, when the Spaniards discovered the plot. They were all greatly enraged: none more so than their leader Alvarado. Still they behaved prudently; and, but for the hasty violence of Alvarado, all might for some time have been kept quiet. The principal festival of the Mexicans (that of Huitzilopochtli, the god of war) came on just at this time. At this festival, which was always celebrated with great magnificence, it was customary for the King, the nobles, the priests, and the people, to join in certain dances. The nobles, having requested Alvarado to allow Montezuma to join them, and been refused, prepared now to keep the festival without him. The Mexicans had all assembled in the large court of the great temple, the dancing and singing had commenced, when Alvarado (thinking this a fit occasion for striking terror in the hearts of the conspirators) ordered his soldiers out, and rushed furiously upon them. So sudden was the attack, that numbers of the Indians were at once massacred. In a little time, however, they rallied, and prepared for a desperate revenge. Nothing could now restrain them; not even the thought of what might befall Montezuma could allay their fury. They rushed upon the Spanish quarters, battering the walls, and destroying most of their ammunition. Alvarado and his little force made a gallant resistance, and were still making it, but were now fairly besieged, and had before them every prospect of perishing, either by war or famine.
Cortes hurried his preparations, and all was soon ready. He made an oration to the followers of Narvaez, to inspire them with courage, and then intrusting Narvaez and Salvatierra to the keeping of Rodrigo Ranzel, whom he appointed his lieutenant at Villa Rica, set out on his rapid march for Mexico. At Tlascala he was joined by two thousand warriors, and he now felt strong enough to curb the fury of the Mexicans. He passed on rapidly to Tezcuco; but scarcely had he entered the Mexican territories, when he saw at once many signs of Mexican feeling. No welcome met him as usual in any of the towns through which he passed: they all seemed deserted; nor was any provision made anywhere for the comfort of himself or his army. He was unmolested, however, in his march, and at length, on the 24th of June, 1520, again entered Mexico. Here, again, no one came forward to meet him: a gloomy silence seemed to reign through the city. Cortes felt assured now that difficulties were before him; yet, strange to tell, his first act was one of imprudence. When at length he reached Montezuma, and the King would have complimented him on his victory over Narvaez, he turned away from him with scorn. Perhaps he felt that he had force enough now to carry his point at all hazards, or possibly he thought that Montezuma was treacherous; that he was aiding the fury of his people. Alvarado was instantly summoned before him, to give an account of all that had happened. He declared that a priest and two nobles had informed him that the Mexicans had entered into a plot to destroy the Spaniards; moreover, that news had reached the capital that Cortes and his army had been vanquished by Narvaez; that this had emboldened them: they were ripe for action; to protect himself, he could make no delay, and therefore had fallen upon them at the time of the festival. It is said that Cortes was dissatisfied with this explanation. Still, this was no time for finding fault: Alvarado and his companions were in trouble, and their only hope of relief was through him. He was provoked at the boldness of the Mexicans, and especially so when he found they furnished no supplies for his army. He bore himself very haughtily toward the nobles wherever he met them, and at length sent a very stern message to Montezuma, commanding him immediately to supply his troops with provisions. This message only roused the Mexicans the more; and from that moment they commenced a war of indomitable hatred against all Spaniards.
Ere long, a Spanish soldier came rushing into the quarters, and fell down, sinking with the loss of blood. This poor fellow had been sent by Cortes, to bring to Mexico the daughter of Montezuma and other ladies left at Tacuba, under the care of the Cacique. The enraged Mexicans had attacked him on the causeway, and he had escaped only by the most desperate exertions. He declared that the whole country was in arms, and that multitudes from all quarters were moving toward Mexico. Cortes immediately sent out Diego de Ordaz, with four hundred men, to reconnoitre. These Spaniards had scarcely moved into the streets, when they were attacked with showers of arrows, while the air was filled with the loud curses and threats of the Mexicans. “Every man of them should be sacrificed to the gods: not one Spaniard should escape; and every Tlascalan should share the same fate.” The streets were filled with the phrensied multitude, while, from the tops of the houses and temples, darts, stones, and arrows, were poured upon the Spaniards. Ordaz found that he could neither move forward nor readily retreat; he was completely hemmed in by the throng. His courage, however, did not forsake him; with a desperate energy, he fought his way back to the Spanish quarters, twenty-three of his men having been killed, and a large number wounded. This success only emboldened the Mexicans. The next day they came in vast numbers to attack the Spanish quarters. A wild madness seemed to possess them. The artillery was at once brought to bear upon them, and, though masses were swept down in the streets at every volley, the places of the dead were instantly supplied by others; there seemed no end to their numbers. Twice they came near forcing an entrance into the quarters. Disappointed in this, they at length set fire to them, and the Spaniards were enabled to stop the flames only by throwing down one of the walls to extinguish them.
Another difficulty now presented itself, in the disaffection of the soldiers of Narvaez. They were startled by the threats and fury of the Mexicans; they had followed Cortes, not expecting such disasters, and began now to murmur loudly. It was no time to listen to their complaints. To inspire them with confidence, Cortes resolved upon a bold effort. With a handful of men, he made in person a desperate sally upon the enemy; but, in spite of his bravery, was forced to retreat, leaving ten of his men dead in the streets, and about fifty wounded. His energies, however, increased with his difficulties. He resolved upon another attack. Perceiving that his men suffered most from the darts and arrows thrown from the roofs of the houses, he caused them to make four machines, called mantas. These machines were made of strong timbers, covered with a roof, and moved on wheels. Each one could carry about thirty soldiers. Thus prepared, he again sallied out at the head of most of the Spaniards and two thousand Tlascalans. The Indians hailed them as usual with shouts of fury and defiance, pouring in upon them clouds of arrows. Expecting this attack, they had prepared to annoy the Spaniards in every way. In some places, the streets were blocked up to prevent their passage; in others, the bridges that crossed the canals in the city were broken down; and while the Spaniards were stopped from time to time by these obstacles, they assailed them furiously from the streets, the canals, the roofs and windows of the houses. As for the mantas, they afforded but little protection, for the ingenuity of the Indians soon destroyed them. From the tops of the houses they hurled down immense stones and broke them to pieces. The priests were in the midst, inflaming the people; the nobles, by their example, urged them on, and they fought desperately. The battle was waged fiercely on both sides through the whole day. Worn out at last by the continued attacks carried on from the houses, Cortes ordered his men to fire the city. Several houses were soon burnt to the ground, and he now retreated to the Spanish quarters as rapidly as possible. It was a sad day to both parties. Multitudes of the Mexicans were slaughtered, while forty Spaniards were slain, and a large number wounded. Cortes was himself badly wounded in the hand in this conflict.
Cortes now felt that his position was most dangerous. He could neither conquer nor make terms of peace, nor hope for a quiet retreat. To attempt a retreat from the capital was all that seemed left to him: to remain where he was, was courting almost certain death by war or famine; and yet he could not brook the thought of being anything but a conqueror, after all his toils and struggles. Fortunately, at this time he had a prospect of relief from Montezuma. It is said that, from one of the towers, the King had looked out upon the conflict in the city. He had marked the fierce spirit of the Spaniards, led on by Cortes, and the desperate resistance of the Mexican troops, headed by his brother, the lord of Iztapalapan. The sight moved him to tears. He felt that his city was in ruins, whoever might be conqueror. Troubled with his distress, after a sleepless night he sought Cortes, and implored him to stop the havoc by leaving the city. It required but little persuasion to bring Cortes to a decision. He promised the King that he would go, if he would insure him a peaceable departure, and, for this purpose, demanded that the Mexicans should lay down their arms: and Montezuma as readily agreed to use his authority to induce them to do so.[11]
Accordingly, on the next day, when the infuriated Mexicans again attacked the Spanish quarters, Montezuma resolved to show himself to them, hoping thereby to calm their fury. Their attack was now tremendous. It seemed impossible for the artillery to drive them back. Some were scaling the walls, and some had actually forced their way into the quarters, and were fighting hand to hand with the Spaniards, when Montezuma, attired in his regal dress, and attended by some of his nobles and a guard of Spanish soldiers, came out upon the battlements. The moment he appeared, all was silence; some fell reverently upon their knees. The King now spoke to them, beseeching them to desist, and declaring that the Spaniards were ready to leave the city if they would only allow them to pass out undisturbed. One of the nobles answered from the crowd, that the war would soon be over, for they had all sworn that no Spaniard should leave the city alive. Montezuma again implored them to lay aside their arms, and used every argument to persuade them. All was in vain. A murmur of discontent spread through the throng, and one of the crowd cried out that the King was a coward. In a moment more, the whole mass cursed and reproached him, and then came showers of stones and arrows upon the ramparts. Before the Spaniards could shelter him, Montezuma fell. A stone had struck him on the head, and he was wounded in his arm and leg. The Mexicans were now horror-stricken at their own deed; their stormy passions gave way to gloom and despair; they fled from the spot in dismay.
The Spaniards bore the unfortunate King within, and Cortes caused his wounds to be carefully dressed, and endeavored to console him. But Montezuma refused all comfort. He seemed now as one waking from a dream. The haughty and fierce spirit of his better days came back, and he heaped heavy reproaches upon the Spanish chief. He felt that he was a king; he knew that he was now degraded and disgraced, and he longed to die. In a phrensy, he tore the bandages from his wounds, and refused to take any nourishment whatever. Cortes, perceiving his end approaching, now besought him to embrace the Christian religion. Alas! that Montezuma had so poor a preacher of our blessed religion! Father Olmedo earnestly implored him to receive Christian baptism, but all to no purpose. Unbending to the last, he had but one fixed desire, and that was to die; and at length, after three days of misery, he breathed his last, in a raving passion, mourning over his fate, cursing the Spaniards, and swearing vengeance against his people. Cortes immediately sent a messenger to Prince Cuitlahuatzin, the successor to the throne, to inform him of the death of Montezuma; and in a little time the body was carried out by six nobles, and taken to a place called Copalco, amid the loud lamentations of the Mexicans.
He now endeavored to make peace with the Mexicans, but all his efforts failed. The Indians whom he sent as messengers with his terms refused to return with any answer; but a distinct answer was soon made known by the conduct of the people. The day after the funeral, they returned to their attack upon the Spanish quarters more furiously than ever. The position of Cortes was now well nigh desperate. Montezuma was dead, and there was nothing to restrain the vengeance of the multitude. All hopes of peace had passed away: his only hope was to escape from the city. Even this, however, seemed cut off by the bold determination of the Indians. They had taken possession of a tower on the principal temple, which commanded a full view of the Spanish quarters. From this point they kept so strict a watch, that it was almost certain death to a Spaniard to move out. They knew the advantage of this post so well, that five hundred of their picked warriors were stationed there. Cortes at once saw that it was idle to hope to make his retreat so long as they kept that station. It was absolutely necessary to dislodge them. Accordingly, he sent Escobar out with a strong force for that purpose. More than one gallant effort was made, but at length, after three several failures, Escobar was forced to retreat to the quarters.
Cortes now felt that everything depended upon himself. His men were doomed to perish, unless something could be done. Though suffering from his wound, he determined upon another effort, and resolved to take the command himself. At the head of his troops, he pressed toward the temple. Barriers were placed in his way, stones and arrows were showered upon him; still he pressed on. Unfortunately, when he reached the court of the temple, he found that the cavalry, upon which he principally relied, could not be used; the horses continually slipped, and fell upon the pavement. The Indians annoyed them in every way. Together with their arrows and darts, they hurled upon them burning beams of wood, which threw them into great confusion. Cortes now dismounted, and ordering his men to bind his shield to his wounded arm, rushed to the attack, calling to them to follow him. His example inspired them. The Spaniards rushed on with resistless force. Gradually working their way up the steps, they at length reached the platform, and drove the Mexicans to the upper area of the temple. Here the battle raged furiously for three hours. The priests were there, calling frantically upon the gods, and screaming to the people, and these contested every inch of the way with the desperate Spaniards. The carnage was awful. The warriors were all killed upon the spot, or destroyed themselves by leaping from the tower. The nobles perished to a man. Cortes at last gained the tower, when there was no living being to defend it. He instantly set fire to it, and then commenced his retreat toward his quarters; but his retreat was one continued battle. New multitudes thronged upon him in the lower area; and when these were passed, he met with a furious attack in every street and from every house. Every inch of ground was contested to and from the temple; still in this retreat he managed, by a desperate effort, to rescue his old friend Andres de Duero, whom the Mexicans had seized, and were dragging away for a sacrifice. At length he reached his quarters, every man being covered with blood, and sinking from exhaustion. An uncounted number of the Tlascalans had fallen, forty-six Spaniards had been killed, and every other Spaniard in the action had been wounded.[12]
As soon as they had rested from this hard struggle, Cortes summoned his officers, to consult as to the time and manner of their retreat. Some advised that they should sally out boldly by day, when they could see their enemies, and mark every danger. Others thought it best to make the attempt under cover of the night, thinking to escape unobserved through the darkness, and trusting to a superstition of the Mexicans, which would not allow them to attack an enemy during the hours of repose. An old soldier now came in, and pretending to be an astrologer, urged that the attempt should be made by night. In a little time, it was settled that they should start out at midnight. As the Mexicans had broken down the bridges of the causeways to prevent their escape, Cortes at once caused a portable bridge to be made, strong enough to allow his army and all the baggage to pass the openings. He then commanded all the treasure that had been collected to be brought forward, and separating the fifth part which belonged to the King, left the rest for his men; at the same time advising them not to load themselves with it, as it might prove burdensome in their perilous retreat. He next ordered the plan of march. The van of his army, consisting of two hundred of his best soldiers, together with twenty horsemen, was placed under the command of Sandoval, aided by Diego de Ordaz and Francisco Lugo. The rear, which contained most of the Spanish troops, was intrusted to Pedro de Alvarado and Velasquez de Leon. Cortes himself, aided by Christoval de Olid and Davila, took charge of the centre, in which were placed the children of Montezuma, and other prisoners of distinction, together with the baggage, artillery, and portable bridge. The Tlascalans, Chempoallans, and Cholulans, amounting to several thousands, were scattered among the three divisions. To aid them at the time of their departure, the night set in densely dark, with a thick fog, and heavy falls of rain. At midnight, the van left the quarters, and the other divisions soon followed. In deep silence they moved toward the causeway of Tacuba, because that was known to be the shortest, and least frequented by the Mexicans. They reached the first breach unmolested, and at once commenced fixing their bridge for a passage.
Suddenly the air was filled with the loud yells of the Mexicans. They had watched every movement. The priests sounded their horns, calling their countrymen to battle: the lake was covered with a thousand canoes; showers of stones and arrows were poured in upon the Spaniards from the boats, while an immense number eagerly thronged the causeway to oppose them. Unfortunately at this time, the bridge broke down under the heavy weight of the baggage and artillery. Some of the Spaniards who had gained the other side hurried to the second breach, while their poor companions struggled to scramble across the horrid chasm, filled up now with one confused heap of baggage, cannon, armor, and the bodies of the dead and dying. All was confusion. The rain fell in torrents; the horses plunged in every direction; both sides of the causeway were lined with canoes, from which one continual attack was kept up; the Spaniards never before had witnessed anything like it. The bellowing of the horses, and the shrieks of the prisoners hurried away for sacrifice, filled the air: all was an indescribable scene of horror. With fury and desperation, many of the Spaniards fought their way over the dreadful gap, and joined their companions at the second breach; while the largest number were either killed on the spot, made prisoners, or drowned. At the second breach, the conflict was the same. It was impossible to preserve any order; friends and foes, soldiers and officers, horse and infantry, men and women, were all struggling there in one wild scene of carnage and horror. By a desperate exertion, Cortes, with some of his hardiest veterans, forced his way across the remaining breaches, “the bodies of the dead serving to fill up the ditches.” Having reached the firm land, he left his slender force with Sandoval and Olid, who had managed to escape with him, commanding them to keep in perfect order, to resist any fresh attack, and then plunged back into the fight. His heart would not allow him to leave his men in their deplorable condition. He passed and repassed the last breaches more than once, sometimes swimming, sometimes scrambling over the dead: here he would encourage some sinking man still to fight; there he would pull some drowning man to the firm land, and sometimes drag his captive comrades from the very hands of the enemy. His daring struggles are almost incredible. The sufferings of his men roused every energy; he risked every danger, and wonderful is it that he was not added to the number of the slain. In spite of all his efforts, however, the air still rang with the savage yells of the Mexicans, and the piercing shrieks of the poor captives. It was impossible to rescue all; he did all that man could do; he was heart-sick over his own inability. Now he was joined by a small party, which he found belonged to the rear division. These were Alvarado, bleeding freely, and scarcely able to stand, eight Spaniards, and as many Tlascalans, all wounded and covered with blood. Alvarado declared that these were all that remained of the division intrusted to him: all the rest, officers as well as men, and among them Velasquez de Leon, having been killed or made prisoners; that when he came to the third breach, not being able to face the enemy or to swim across, in an effort of despair he struck his lance in the bottom of the ditch, and leaped to the other side. This effort saved him.[13]
The dawn of the next day found the Spaniards at Popotla, near Tacuba, and showed them more fully their misery. They lay scattered around at random, wounded, exhausted, and disheartened. More than half the Spaniards had perished, with four thousand of their allies. All the ammunition, artillery, and baggage was lost, together with most of the horses. No treasure whatever was saved; those soldiers who had foolishly laden themselves with it having perished for their folly. Well nigh all the Mexican prisoners had likewise perished; among them the prince Cacamatzin, a brother, a son, and two daughters of Montezuma. Velasquez de Leon, Francisco Morla, Francisco Sancedo, and Amador de Lariz, with many other Spanish officers, were missing. The gallant De Leon had been placed in command of the extreme detachment of the rear division, and not even one man of his party was now to be found.
The scene touched the heart of Cortes; he who could brave every danger, overcoming every fear, could not now overcome the feelings of a man. As he looked upon the wretched remnant of his army, and thought of his brave companions who were lost, his heart swelled with sorrow; he sat down upon a stone, and the tears rolled down his face. The death of De Leon was more than he could well bear. He was not only a gallant comrade in arms, but a friend whose heart was ever true to Cortes. But greater disasters were possibly before him; and while this thought added to his misery, it taught him also the necessity of rousing his energies. Alvarado, Sandoval, Olid, Ordaz, Davila, and Lugo, were still around him; his faithful friends Doña Marina, Aguilar, and Father Olmedo, were yet alive. These, with the poor soldiers, were looking to him as their leader, and he felt the necessity of action. The country all around was in arms against him; a shelter from their fury was to be found immediately. He gathered his little force, and made a hurried march to Otoncalpolco, a temple nine miles westward from Mexico. Here parties of the enemy attacked him from time to time through the day, but by watchfulness and courage he managed to drive them back. Still his position was dangerous: if a large party should assault him, he could not resist long. He longed to reach Tlascala, as his only safe resting-place; yet it was far distant, and he knew that the Mexicans were watching to waylay him. He was in great anxiety, hesitating what he should do, when a Tlascalan came forward, and offered to conduct him to his own country by a secret pathway.
FOLLOWING their Tlascalan guide, the Spaniards undertook their wearisome march through a desolate country; sometimes struggling through swamps, and then scrambling over mountains. Parties of Mexicans pursued and hung upon their rear, and it required the utmost vigilance and skill to avoid them. Then, too, the region through which they were moving was uninhabited, and destitute of all manner of supplies; they ate gladly such roots and berries as they could find. Arrived at Zacamolco, their famine was so great that they greedily devoured a horse that had been killed that day by the Mexicans. As to the poor Tlascalans, they threw themselves upon the ground, and piteously implored their gods to help them. Cortes bore himself nobly through these sorrows. All eyes were upon him, and his example roused and animated his men. At length, on the sixth day of the march, they came near Otompan. Parties of Mexicans now showed themselves more frequently, and some, as they passed, cried out scornfully, “Advance, advance, robbers, to receive the reward of your crimes!” The valley of Otompan presently burst upon their sight, covered with warriors as far as the eye could reach. Two hundred thousand men, headed by the nobility of the country, had gathered there to oppose them in their march to Tlascala.
The hearts of the Spaniards now sank within them; the stoutest among them were dismayed; their doom was at hand. Cortes was instantly roused; he saw that to allow them to shrink from their danger, was only to increase it. He immediately drew up his wretched army, and flanking it on each side with the few horsemen he could still command, cried out with enthusiasm, “The moment is arrived when we must either conquer or perish! Castilians, rouse your spirits, place your confidence on high, and advance boldly to the charge!” With this, he rushed to the conflict. The Indians fought with the fury of revenge, the Spaniards with the fury of despair. More than once the brave band of Cortes broke through the lines of the enemy, but new multitudes thronged upon them instantly. They were overpowered with numbers. For four hours this horrid fight continued. Cortes perceived his men falling fast, some dead, and others dying; all seemed well nigh lost. A bold thought now struck him. He remembered to have heard that the Mexicans were always routed when their general was slain and their standard taken. He determined to make one last effort. Cihuacatzin, the leader of the Indians, was in the midst of his troops, sitting upon his litter, surrounded by a guard; and the standard, fastened to his back, was floating over his head. Cortes, calling to Alvarado, Sandoval, Olid, and Davila, to follow him close and guard him from attack, dashed toward the general. With a desperate fury he broke through the crowd, reached the centre of the army, and with one blow of his lance laid Cihuacatzin on the ground. One of the brave Spaniards who followed leaped from his horse, tore the standard from the general, and instantly despatched him. In a moment, the enemy was in confusion; the hopes of the Spaniards revived: they pressed hard upon them, routed and pursued them. They gained their victory, however, at a great sacrifice. Numbers of the Spaniards and Tlascalans were slain, and every survivor carried his wounds. Cortes himself was dangerously wounded by a blow on the head. Yet the conquerors left dead upon that field twenty thousand of the enemy.[14]
With the remnant of his army (only four hundred and forty men), Cortes now marched without further trouble into the Tlascalan territories. Here he was received with great kindness; indeed, the kindness of the Tlascalans increased with his misfortunes. They ministered in every way to the comfort of his feeble but victorious army. But, unfortunately, some of his own men began once more to trouble him. Wearied with their continual hardships, the soldiers of Narvaez returned to their murmurs; and, strange to tell, among these murmurers was Andres de Duero, the friend of Cortes. The discontent increased; the disaffected held meetings from time to time, and at last signed and sent a remonstrance to Cortes, urging him to abandon the country and return to Cuba.
Cortes received this with great self-possession, but in deep sorrow. His spirit was unbroken by his trials; though misfortune had followed him, he still carried in his heart the fixed resolution of conquering Mexico. With such a determination, he could not well part with any of his men. The best mode of silencing their murmurs was to keep them busy, and he soon found employment for them. The people of Tepejacac had sworn alliance to Cortes, but in the midst of his misfortunes had treacherously taken up arms against the Spaniards, and cut off a body of his countrymen on their march from Chempoalla to Mexico. Cortes resolved to punish them for this conduct. With much difficulty, he persuaded his men to join him in this effort, the followers of Narvaez at length assenting, because the Spaniards that had been slaughtered belonged to their party. At the head of four thousand Tlascalans, together with his men, he now set out for these people.
He soon subdued the Tepejacacans, penetrating even to their principal town. This region being fertile, and directly on the road to Villa Rica, he established in it a settlement, which he called Segura de la Frontera. Intent upon keeping his men employed, he continued his marches now in various directions. For months he pursued this line of conduct, meeting with success in almost every engagement. These little advantages, though slight, cheered him in the thought of conquering Mexico. He would not abandon that idea. Indeed, his resolution on this point was so fixed, that he had already ordered a quantity of timber to be cut in the forests of Tlascala for the construction of twelve brigantines, that he might get command of the lake; and Martin Lopez, an experienced shipwright, was now busy at this work. What he most needed was an addition to his numbers; with his little force, he could hardly hope to achieve that conquest. Fortune now smiled on him. Diego Velasquez, ignorant of the fate of Narvaez, sent Pedro Barba with a small company to the country, bearing letters to Narvaez. These letters brought positive orders to Narvaez to send Cortes, if alive, to Cuba that he might be taken thence in fetters to Spain; such being the command of the Bishop of Burgos.[15] Barba and his followers were artfully decoyed on shore by the men at Villa Rica, seized, and sent prisoners to Cortes. The Spanish chief, with his usual policy, received them as friends and countrymen, and soon persuaded them to join his enterprise. Barba now informed him that another vessel would soon appear off the coast, laden with supplies. By good management, the crew and cargo of this vessel were also secured. In a little time, a much larger reinforcement was added to him. The party sent out under Pineda, by Garay, the Governor of Jamaica, to establish a settlement at Panuco, had all been destroyed; and the Governor, ignorant of this fact, now sent another body, under Camarjo, to aid Pineda in his labors. This second party, learning the fate of their countrymen, and being at the same time afflicted with the diseases of the country, sought refuge in the settlement at Vera Cruz. Thence they proceeded to Frontera, found Cortes, and at once entered his service. Other bodies sent out by Garay, for the same purpose of aiding the colony at Panuco, followed their example, and Cortes soon found, to his great joy, that he had added to his numbers very unexpectedly one hundred and eighty men and twenty horses. His hopes for the conquest were now brightening.
To his sorrow, however, the followers of Narvaez again returned to their murmurs. They urged more earnestly than ever that they ought to be sent back to Cuba. Cortes perceived that the spirit of discontent was growing, and felt that it was better to lose these men, than to allow them to remain any longer, spreading dissatisfaction in his army. Accordingly, he issued his proclamation, stating that all those who wished to return to Cuba might do so, and that a safe passage should be immediately furnished for them. Some of the discontented were now ashamed, and determined to remain; but the larger part resolved to start, and among these was Andres de Duero. Cortes selected one of the best vessels that had belonged to Narvaez, and allowed them to embark. At the same time he sent Diego de Ordaz and Alonzo de Mendoza to Spain, to represent his conduct, and keep an eye on the Bishop of Burgos. Alonzo Davila was also sent to Hispaniola, to tell of their hardships and sufferings, the jealousy of Velasquez, and the cruelty of the Bishop of Burgos, and beg assistance for the enterprise; while another officer was despatched to Jamaica, with power to enlist soldiers, and purchase horses and supplies.
Having despatched these, he hurried his preparations for the siege of Mexico. The timber for his ships being nearly ready, and the cordage, cables, sails, and other rigging, brought over from Villa Rica, he saw nothing to delay his march toward the capital. He called his officers together, and, after consultation, it was determined to make their head-quarters at Tezcuco, as that seemed the place best adapted for annoying the enemy. Messages were now sent to the confederate Indians, to hold themselves in readiness at any moment, and the troops were reviewed. Cortes found that he still had five hundred and fifty infantry, among whom were eighty musketeers and crossbow-men, and nine pieces of artillery. Besides these, there were forty horsemen: and to the whole he added an army of ten thousand Tlascalans. This was his force for the conquest of Mexico. On the 28th of December (six months after his fatal retreat), he moved again toward the capital.
Mexico was now in a far different condition from that in which Cortes left it. The six months that had passed away had been improved by its citizens. Cuitlahuitzin, the successor of Montezuma, had not only distinguished himself by his bold attack upon the Spaniards on the night of their retreat, but he had repaired the damages done to his city by the invaders, made fortifications, and filled the magazines with armor. With all this he had, if possible, infused into his countrymen a still more deadly hatred of the Spaniards. But in the midst of these labors, he had been cut down by the small pox,[16] and now Guatimozin, the nephew of Montezuma, ruled over the kingdom. He was a very young man, but had exhibited such daring courage and great ability, that the people had called him to the throne.
At the end of three days, without any opposition, Cortes entered Tezcuco. The streets were completely deserted; neither men, women, nor children, were to be seen. The people had carried their goods to the forests, or the borders of the lake, while the lord of Tezcuco and the nobles had fled to Mexico. Cortes soon learned that Tezcuco was divided into two parties, and instantly took advantage of it. The prince who had fled was said to be an usurper, who had murdered his elder brother, and his usurpation had been aided by the King of Mexico. At the same time a youth was pointed out to Cortes as the lawful heir, and he immediately caused him to be proclaimed lord of Tezcuco. He succeeded in persuading this youth to embrace Christianity, and at his baptism he received the name of Hernan Cortes, the Spanish chief standing as the godfather. Cortes then appointed Escobar and two other Spaniards to attend upon the new lord. Terms of friendship were at once made: the young man engaging to do all in his power to aid the Spaniards; which engagement, it is said, he kept religiously.
Having thus arranged matters at Tezcuco, remembering certain acts of Cuitlahuitzin, the former lord of Iztapalapan, he determined to attack that city. Accordingly, at the head of two hundred and thirty-five Spaniards and all the Tlascalan army, he marched against it. At their approach, all the inhabitants fled to their canoes. The Spaniards took possession without any trouble, and as the night was coming on, resolved to make their quarters there. They had scarcely retired, when the water began to rise and overflow the city. The Iztapalapans had broken the mole of the lake, hoping to drown them. The Tezcucans gave the alarm in time, and, with great difficulty, Cortes made good his retreat. He lost, however, two of his men, a number of Tlascalans, and one of the horses. This ingenuity of the Indians troubled him very much; he felt that his enemies were more dangerous than he had supposed them to be.
His next effort was to get possession of the two towns of Chalco and Tlalmamalco, places of great importance to the Spaniards, as they lay directly between Tlascala and Tezcuco. Accordingly, Sandoval and Lugo were sent with a body of two hundred men to drive the Mexicans from them. This they easily accomplished. Messengers now came from Mizquic, Otompan, and other cities, begging the protection of the Spaniards; all of whom Cortes received very kindly, readily making terms with them.
All the materials for building his vessels being at length ready, Cortes determined to have them brought from Tlascala to Tezcuco. This was an important business, and Sandoval was selected to perform it. On the way to Tlascala was the town of Zoltepec, whose inhabitants (at the time when Cortes was hurrying to the relief of Alvarado) had surprised and murdered forty Spaniards and three hundred Tlascalans, on their march from Vera Cruz to Mexico. Cortes was resolved to punish them for this act, and consequently gave orders to Sandoval to stop there and chastise them on his way. When Sandoval approached this city, the inhabitants fled. He pursued them, and made many prisoners. The piteous cries of the women, however, induced him to spare them all; they expressed great sorrow for what they had done, and he only exacted from them a promise of obedience and good conduct for the future. This was the more generous in the leader, inasmuch as he discovered many things to rouse his revenge. In one of the temples, he saw the walls and idols besmeared with the blood of his countrymen; while the skins of two of their faces, together with those of four horses, were hung upon the altars. On a wall in one of the houses he found this inscription: “In this place Juan Zuste and his wretched companions were confined.” From Zoltepec, Sandoval moved on to Tlascala, where he found all ready, and Chichimecatl, with a large army of Tlascalans, prepared to start. Eight thousand men were employed in carrying the timbers, cordage, and other materials. A Spanish guard went before them, and a guard of allies was placed on each side. In this mode they marched out from Tlascala. Flying parties of Indians sometimes were seen, but none dared to approach them. At length they came near to Tezcuco. Great was the joy now of the Spaniards in that city. Cortes and his officers came out to meet the procession, and the Spanish leader, with great delight, embraced Chichimecatl and two other chiefs, and thanked them for their great kindness. Six hours were spent in entering Tezcuco. It was a perfect jubilee. The allies, dressed in their finest garments, and decked off with their gay plumes, marched through the streets, sounding their horns and beating their drums, while the air rang with the shouts of triumph for Castile and Tlascala.
Martin Lopez, the shipwright, now declared that it required twenty days to make ready for the launching, and Cortes determined to keep his men employed in the mean time in reducing the cities that were friendly to Guatimozin. Leaving Sandoval at Tezcuco, with a party of his followers he attacked the cities of Xaltocan and Tacuba, the first of which was plundered and partly destroyed by fire. Upon his return, Sandoval sallied out and routed their enemies at Huaxtepec and Jacapitchtla. To add to their joy at this time, a further reinforcement of Spaniards arrived at Tezcuco, under Julian de Alderete. Alderete stated that the vessel which had brought him was now lying at Vera Cruz, laden with military stores for the army, and (what was still better news for Cortes) that the Bishop of Burgos, one of his principal enemies, had been deposed from his authority over the West Indies.
Motives of policy, as well as the desire to preserve the city of Mexico (for Cortes felt assured now that he should conquer it), prompted the Spanish leader to send messengers to Guatimozin, proposing to make terms of peace. Guatimozin, however, would listen to no terms; he sent back a scornful answer, and Cortes at once returned to his depredations. The city of Quauhnahuac was next attacked and reduced. Thence he sallied against Xochimilco, a large town on the lake of Chalco. Here multitudes had gathered to oppose him; they had cut down the bridges to stop him, and erected palisades to shelter themselves. The eager Spaniards dashed into the stream, and many lost their lives in attempting to swim over. The battle was fierce on both sides. In this struggle Cortes came near losing his life. His horse fell under him, while surrounded by the enemy: he was instantly knocked down; a crowd seized him and were carrying him off in triumph. At this moment, Christoval de Olid, perceiving his perilous condition, dashed forward with a body of Tlascalans, and, by a mighty effort, rescued him. Cortes and Olid both received dangerous wounds on the head. Many of his soldiers being also wounded, he was forced to remain four days at this place, that they might all recruit. During this time, the enemy annoyed them very much. A party of four of his men having wandered off to sack a house on the shore of the lake, the Mexicans came in canoes, surrounded it, and carried them off. These unfortunate captives were taken to Guatimozin, who examined them very particularly as to the numbers that followed Cortes. After gaining from them all the information he could, he ordered their hands and feet to be cut off. In this condition they were exhibited through the country, until at length he commanded that they should be killed.
To his surprise, Cortes discovered now that some of his men were still disaffected; indeed, that this disaffection had even ripened into a plot to destroy him. The few remaining soldiers of Narvaez were once more the cause of the trouble. The principal man among them was Antonio Villafaña. He was still a warm friend to Velasquez, and, of course, disliked the Spanish leader. Though a private soldier, he was a man of uncommon power; energetic, resolute, and persuasive, he secretly cherished discontent among the men with great success. From time to time they met at his quarters, until at length, having prepared them for action, he boldly proposed that they should murder Cortes and his principal officers, give the command of the army to a brother-in-law of Velasquez, and force him to take them back to Cuba. They all welcomed the proposition, bound themselves by an oath, and signed their names to a paper presented by Villafaña. Their plan was to murder them while at table: a letter, feigned to have come from Vera Cruz, was to be presented to Cortes, and while he was engaged in reading it, the fatal blow was to be given. Others soon joined them; they felt strong; the day was fixed. On the eve of that day, a soldier (one of the original followers of Cortes) came to the commander, and begged that he might see him privately. His request was immediately granted. He now threw himself at the feet of Cortes, unfolded the whole plan, and implored his forgiveness; he was one of the conspirators, but had not the heart to be so longer. The news startled Cortes; yet he was, as usual, self-possessed. He instantly summoned Sandoval, Alvarado, and some others of the intended victims, and proceeded to Villafaña’s quarters. Numbers were there; they were taken by surprise; they looked like guilty men. Some tried to escape, but were immediately taken. Cortes himself seized Villafaña, and snatched from his bosom the paper containing the names of the conspirators. The accomplices of Villafaña were carried to prison, while he was immediately brought to trial. His guilt was proved, he was condemned to die, and the next morning was seen hanging before the door of his quarters.
The paper showed names surprising to Cortes: the conspiracy was far deeper than he had supposed. It was impossible, however, to bring these men to execution; he could not spare them. With great presence of mind, he ordered the prisoners to be set at liberty, and then assembled all his troops. He now told them of the awful plot that had threatened destruction to all their hopes. Pointing to the body of Villafaña, he called on them to look upon the traitor, declaring that he was very happy that his doom fell upon no other Spaniard; that there were other conspirators, but he was ignorant as to who they were; he himself had arrested Villafaña, but in his confusion and fright the guilty man had swallowed a paper containing the names of his accomplices; and who these accomplices might be, could now never be known. The guilty men in the crowd were at once relieved; they fancied they were unsuspected, while at the same time their leader knew them all, and watched them closely.
In a little time, they were gathered together on a more joyous occasion. Martin Lopez had worked diligently, and all was now ready for the launch. The Spaniards having attended mass and received the communion, the whole army was drawn up on the banks of the canal. The brigantines glided gently into the water, while Father Olmedo stood by to bless them and give their names. The sails were then hoisted, to try them; and, as they ploughed the water, the “te Deum” was chanted, while the words echoed with the roar of artillery and shouts of joy.
CORTES reviewed his army once more, preparatory to his attack upon the city of Mexico. He found that he had eighty-six horsemen, eight hundred infantry, together with three large cannons, fifteen small field-pieces, a thousand pounds of gunpowder, and a large quantity of balls and arrows. To these he added an immense number of Tlascalans and other allies, and then divided his army into three parts, placing over these his well-tried officers Sandoval, Alvarado, and Olid. The towns of Tepejacac, Tacuba, and Cojohuacan, were situated on the causeways, and served to guard the city from the first attacks. The three divisions were to take possession of these three places, while Cortes himself took the command of the fleet, which was considered the most important part of the enterprise.
The parties soon set out for their respective positions. Alvarado and Olid in a little time reached Tacuba. The aqueduct of Chapoltepec passed through this place, affording a supply of fresh water to the Mexican capital. This they determined to destroy, and at once set to the work. The Mexicans opposed them fiercely; the struggle was a hard one, but at length they succeeded in cutting off the pipes. Flushed with success, they now attempted to take possession of the first bridge on the causeway of Tacuba. As they approached this spot, they found immense numbers gathered to oppose them; the causeway was thronged with the enemy, while each side was lined with canoes, from which the Mexicans poured in their arrows. At the first discharge, three Spaniards were slain and thirty wounded. The Spaniards only fought the more fiercely; yet, after all their efforts, they were forced to retreat to Tacuba, eight of their number being dead, and more than fifty wounded. Leaving Alvarado, Olid pushed on to his station at Cojohuacan.
In the mean time, Cortes had brought the fleet out on the lake, and after various manœuvres, proceeded to attack a rock near the city, where a large number of the inhabitants had fled for refuge. The Mexicans, perceiving his design, sent out their whole naval force (consisting of four thousand canoes) against his brigantines. Cortes now moved fairly out into the lake, and formed his fleet in the shape of a crescent to receive them. As they came near, the sails of the brigantines were spread, and they dashed through them, overturning some, and scattering the rest, to the great loss of the Mexicans. Olid had now reached his post, and from the temple at Cojohuacan saw the conflict on the lake. He instantly pushed along the causeway toward the city, drove the Mexicans from some of the trenches, and took possession. Cortes now attacked the bastion called Xoloc, situated at the angle made by the junction of the roads of Cojohuacan and Iztapalapan. The Mexicans defended the place with great obstinacy; multitudes fell in their efforts to save it, but it was stormed and taken. As this was a spot of great importance, and in direct communication with the division of Olid, Cortes determined to establish his camp here. The three divisions were now on the three causeways, and, as the principal attacks of the enemy were from the canoes that lined them, he distributed his fleet so as to protect the three divisions in their three efforts against the city—giving orders that they were to be managed in strict obedience to the three officers in command. The siege now regularly commenced.
From this moment, a series of attacks, retreats, skirmishes, and manœuvres, were going on upon the causeways. The causeway of Tacuba was the shortest, and it was supposed that Alvarado would be the first, therefore, to enter the city. But the fact that it was the shortest caused it to be the most carefully guarded. Every morning, Alvarado renewed his attempt, and each day met with a sharp opposition. At night, the Mexicans repaired whatever damage he had done, and in the morning showed themselves as stubborn as ever; while the Spaniards, regardless of wounds, endeavored to push their way onward to the capital, and were continually disappointed in their hope of reaching it. Alvarado perceived now, to his sorrow, that the destruction of the aqueduct of Chapoltepec had not taken from the city its supply of water. Canoes were seen continually by night bringing casks from the towns on the borders of the lake. Provisions were brought in the same way; thus defeating the hope of reducing the city by famine. Two of the brigantines were set to watch these boats and intercept them, but the cunning of the Mexicans defeated this. Their canoes were sailing in every direction, to beguile them. So far from being taken themselves, they even contrived to tempt the two brigantines near the border of the lake, where thirty of their largest boats lay in ambush. An attack was instantly made: the brigantines could not well be worked in that position; every Spaniard was wounded, and one of the captains killed. To increase the difficulty of the siege, periodical rains now set in; these, however, did not deter Alvarado and his followers from their attempts, though these attempts were still unsuccessful. Whatever advance he made, however, was a safe one; if he gained a foot of ground, he kept it. Houses were destroyed and ditches filled behind him as far as he passed, to enable him to make good his retreat, if it became necessary. Very much the same scenes were passing on the other causeways. Daily efforts were made, both by land and water, to force an entrance into the city, and all proved unsuccessful.
At last, wearied and mortified with continued disappointment, Cortes resolved upon a general assault. Accordingly, he commanded Alvarado and Sandoval to lead on their divisions, regardless of all opposition, while he himself took the command of the division at Cojohuacan. The order was instantly obeyed: the three divisions moved forward. The Mexicans met them with the fury of madmen; their opposition was tremendous. In spite of this opposition, however, Cortes continued to gain ground, carrying everything before him. Julian de Alderete, according to command that he should follow on and fill up all ditches behind him, was close upon him, but, in the ardor of the struggle, neglected this necessary duty. The Mexicans at length fled before Cortes, in apparent dismay, and he reached the capital. This was only a stratagem: the design was to bring him beyond the narrow pass in the causeway. He had no sooner entered the city, than the big drum was struck, the horns in the temple sent forth their blasts: the Mexicans raised their horrid yells, and at once flocked to the causeway. Alarmed for the safety of his men, Cortes ordered a retreat. Accordingly, they commenced retreating, but when they reached the narrow pass, all was confusion. Multitudes pressed upon them by land, arrows were showered upon them from the boats; it was now a general rout. Struggling to escape, the men pushed on only to plunge into the big ditch left open by Alderete. In that fatal gap fell men and horses, Spaniards and Indians, all in one mighty struggle. Cortes was still self-possessed; regardless of his life, he plunged into the gap, animating some, and rescuing others. Many a sinking companion did he save that day. In the midst of these noble struggles, he received a wound in the leg; six Mexicans seized him, and were carrying him off in triumph. At this critical moment, two brave Spaniards, Olea and Lerma, rushed to his rescue. Olea killed four of the Mexicans, and then lost his own life; while Lerma, sinking with his wounds, would likewise have been a captive, had not Quiñones, with a body of Spaniards and Tlascalans, at that instant snatched them from their danger. Cortes was lifted out of the water and placed upon a horse; the miserable remnant of his division escaping as it could.
Alvarado was hardly more successful. Having vanquished Cortes, the enemy now rushed upon him in greater numbers. To aid them, they cunningly threw into his ranks five bleeding heads, swearing that they were the heads of Cortes, Sandoval, and other chiefs, and that Alvarado’s should soon be added to the number. The Spaniards were in dismay; they supposed that their brave leader had perished, and could fight no longer. Alvarado ordered a hasty retreat, and with great difficulty escaped with a part of his division.
The division of Sandoval suffered the least loss. He had pressed far on toward the city, and felt sure of success, when suddenly numbers rushed upon him, both Cortes and Alvarado being defeated. The Mexicans resorted to the same stratagem that had been practised upon Alvarado. With desperate energy, however, he continued the fight, until, finding that there was no hope of success, he commenced retreating. By an effort of skill, he managed his retreat in so orderly a manner, that only two of his men were killed. The great mass, however (among them Sandoval himself), was wounded. In this general assault, which had thus ended, sixty Spaniards and a great number of allies were slain, while almost every survivor was suffering from his wounds. In addition to this, they lost six horses, one cannon, and a quantity of their arms.
Night now closed in, but not to give them rest. The Mexicans prepared for a frightful festival. The Spaniards heard the sound of the big drum, and the blasts of the horns and trumpets, mingled with the exulting yells of the conquerors, while in the temples, that were brilliantly illuminated, they saw the priests moving about, and their poor captive comrades made to dance naked before the idols. Then, too, they could hear the piercing shrieks of the wretched prisoners as they were laid upon the altars to be sacrificed; and while they spent the long night weeping for their friends, they vowed in their hearts an awful revenge.
After this defeat, the Mexicans sent the heads of those slain in sacrifice to all the neighboring towns and provinces, declaring to the people that the gods, being delighted with the blood of those sacrifices, had promised that in eight days the hated Spaniards should all be destroyed, and peace restored to their empire. This was a cunning stratagem. The superstition of the Indians allowed them to believe the story; and thus those provinces already hostile to the Spaniards, became more bitter in their hatred, while their allies began to desert. Even the Tlascalans were disposed to abandon him.[17] Cortes very prudently determined to attempt nothing during these eight days. He placed himself on the defensive, and resolved to wait quietly until the Indians should see that the story was idle.
Eight days passed away, and the Spaniards were still undestroyed. The Indians now flocked again to the standard of Cortes in larger numbers than ever; he soon had the command of fifty thousand allies. Just at this time, a vessel arrived at Villa Rica with men and ammunition. This last article was very much needed, as the Spaniards had spent nearly all their gunpowder. With a heart unbroken by his fresh calamity, and still carrying the fixed determination of conquering Mexico, Cortes now resolved upon another attack. This time he was resolved to trust to prudence as well as courage; and, giving up all thought of preserving the city, he at once commenced his siege of destruction.
The three divisions were commanded to advance in strict military order: they were to destroy every house in the way; while the allies, following immediately behind, were to fill up all ditches—thereby making a retreat easy, if necessary. The divisions started, and the plan was regularly followed up. Day after day the Mexicans found themselves shut up in narrower limits; yet Guatimozin continued his resistance, and seemed determined to see the last house in Mexico razed to the ground before he would consent that the Spaniards should enter the city. At length, Alvarado with his division worked his way to the great square of Tlalteloco. He found that a great number of warriors and priests had gathered in the temple which commanded the entrance to the square; and as his comrades from the other causeways were to meet in this square (the general mustering-place agreed upon), he determined to attack them. With his whole force, he rushed impetuously forward, gained the temple, drove out the Mexicans, set fire to the idols, and planted the Spanish banner on the top of the building, to cheer his approaching companions.
This was a joyous signal to Cortes and Sandoval. With renewed energies they pressed on, and in four days joined Alvarado in the square. His plan was thus far successful; he was now master of the western portion of the city, and Cortes resolved to pursue it further. Before doing this, however, he sent another messenger to Guatimozin with proposals. The proud Mexican King again gave him a scornful answer, and the Spaniards at once renewed their operations. Every day the Mexicans were enclosed in a narrower compass, while a heap of ruins continued to mark the progress of the Spaniards. The situation of the Mexicans was now awful. The brigantines commanded the lake, the Tlascalans cut off all communication by land; and thus the horrors of famine were added to those of war. The want of food soon produced disease among them, and now the awful horrors of war, famine, and pestilence, were all upon them. Every night the poor famishing creatures were prowling about the Spanish quarters in search of food; every day they were shut up in smaller limits. The heart of Guatimozin was touched, but not subdued; with a proud and unconquerable spirit, he seemed resolved to see his beautiful capital one complete ruin, rather than submit. All the city, except one small quarter, was now in possession of the Spaniards, and this was soon to share the fate of the rest.
The command of the fleet was given to Sandoval. He was to attack that quarter by sea, while Cortes made an assault by land. The Mexicans now perceived that all was well nigh over, and tried to persuade Guatimozin to quit the place, fly to the distant provinces, and there rally his troops. To aid him in this matter, they brought to Cortes pretended proposals of peace—hoping that while he was negotiating with them, Guatimozin might escape. In this plan they were disappointed: the bold defence of Guatimozin, with his bold answers, had taught the Spanish chief that the death or captivity of that prince was necessary to the establishment of the Spaniards in his kingdom. Determined, therefore, that he should in no way escape, he had given strict commands to Sandoval to be on the lookout. Every canoe was closely watched. Seeing some large boats moving speedily toward the land, Sandoval gave signal for a chase. Garcia Holguin, who commanded the swiftest brigantine, soon came up with them. From the superior appearance of one of the boats, he judged it to be the King’s, and instantly prepared to fire upon it. Guatimozin now showed himself, and declared he was ready to submit. With the Queen and his attendants he was immediately taken on board the vessel. His first demand was that he might be taken before the Spanish general. He was carried to the shore, and brought before Cortes. Though vanquished, his spirit was unbroken. He cried out to the Spaniard, “Malinatzin, I have done all in my power to defend my kingdom and my people. All my efforts have been fruitless. I have nothing else to attempt. Take your dagger and stab me to the heart!” Cortes was too much of a soldier not to feel. Guatimozin was a young man (only then five-and-twenty), and, though a captive, had proved himself a hero. He endeavored to console him in his sorrow, promising that he should continue to reign, subject to the authority of the King of Spain; and commanded that he, with his family, should be treated with marked respect. The siege was now ended: he was master of the capital.
But what was the capital now? Three fourths of that once beautiful city lay in ruins, and all the squares, streets, and courts, were filled with dead bodies. It was scarcely possible to move without stumbling over them. Bernal Diaz (one of the soldiers of Cortes) declared that “all the streets, squares, and houses, were covered with the bodies of the slain; among the heaps of which were to be seen many wretches crawling about in an advanced stage of those loathsome diseases produced by famine, or unnatural food, exhaustion, and infected air. The trees had been stripped of their bark—the earth dug up, in search of food. Not a drop of fresh water could be found.” The Spaniards had lost in that siege more than one hundred of their men; their allies had lost thousands; while no less than one hundred and fifty thousand Mexicans had perished. The air was polluted with the masses of the dead. Cortes was forced to leave the city, that it might be cleansed; and during three days and nights the causeways were filled with miserable beings carrying off the dead.[18]