The Destroyers Advance—Fierce Fighting in the Plaza—Dismal Situation of the Mexicans—The Work of Demolition—Movements of Alvarado—The Emperor Refuses to Parley—Misery of the Aztecs Unbearable—Horrible Massacre of Women and Children—The Tender-hearted Cortés Mourns over his own Work—Capture of the Emperor—The Conquest Completed—Banquets and Thanksgivings—Dispersion of the Allies to their Homes—Reflections.
With a force of over one hundred and fifty thousand men the Spaniards now advanced on the city, a large proportion destined wholly to raze buildings, fill channels, and remove obstacles, while the rest were to drive back the enemy and keep them at bay. At the channel near the plaza the Mexicans detained the forces for an hour with a peace proposal, in order to gain time for some operation, and then suddenly they began to ply their missiles. Cortés was not slow to accept the challenge, and led the attack with a recklessness that caused his followers to remonstrate with him for exposing so valuable a life. It had the effect, however, of so encouraging the charging party that the channel with its intrenchments was quickly captured. On reaching the plaza they found it covered with loose stones, which prevented the horses from running. Several streets leading to it were blocked with stone barricades. The main effort for this day was directed toward opening the approach to the plaza, which was to serve as the starting-point for subsequent movements. The work was slow, owing to the massive character of the buildings along the leading avenue, and in this imperial centre of the city; but myriads swarmed thereat, and structure after structure was levelled, opening wide access to the southern causeway.
The Mexicans made repeated efforts to stay such ruthless destruction. But their onslaught was futile, for thundering cannon and fiery chargers protected every point. “Burn and raze, you slaves,” they shouted to the auxiliaries in their impotent fury; “you will have to rebuild it all, either for us if we win, or for your present masters if they conquer!” And so it happened. With dreary tasks did they pay for the momentary triumph over their enemy. During the withdrawal of the troops to camp in the evening the Mexicans were able to make a forcible demonstration, more so than usual on these occasions, if we may credit the native records. They pushed in front of their lines a fine-looking Spanish cross-bowman, reserved from the late captives, and sought to make him direct his arrows against his countrymen. This he refused to do, always shooting too high, and finally the enraged Aztecs cut him down. His presence naturally interfered with the free operations of the soldiers, as the enemy had expected.
On the following days Cortés ascended the commanding temple pyramid in the plaza, and thence directed more effectively the operations for razing buildings and driving back the Mexicans, who fought with desperation for every foot of ground, so much so that on one day alone fell twenty thousand it is said. On one occasion a corps of Tlascaltecs crossed a canal and were thrown into disorder by the enemy. The Aztecs began to exult, and one of their number, a muscular warrior with enormous bejewelled plumage, armed with a Spanish sword and shield, shouted a challenge to any Spaniard. Several were ready, among them Hernando de Osma, who had just swum across the canal to sustain the wavering allies. Dripping wet he rushed upon the warrior, but received a blow which cleft his shield. Recovering himself, he dealt the Mexican a thrust from below and stretched him dead, whereupon he snatched the sword and plumage and sprang back in time to escape the pursuing friends of the fallen man. He afterward offered the trophy to Cortés, who accepted, but returned it at once with the remark that none was so worthy thereof as he who had won it. The deed served also to reanimate the Tlascaltecs, and they sustained their position.
Not long after, another powerful warrior, similarly plumed, came forth brandishing a Spanish sword and announcing that he sought the glory of either dying by the hand of a brave Spaniard or defeating him. Cortés, who was present, told him that ten more men like himself were needed to match one soldier. The warrior insisted. “Very well,” said the general, “this beardless page of mine shall despatch you, and demonstrate the mettle of our Castilian boys.” Juan Nuñez de Mercado, as the youth was called, thereupon stepped forward, and bravely as this Goliah fought, a few passes from the skilled arm of the youngster soon sufficed to lay him low. This feat served not alone to discourage duels with Spaniards, but was regarded by many Mexicans as a bad omen.[1190]
Whatever may have been the reverses of the enemy, they usually rallied in the evening to pursue the troops as they returned to camp, the allies being always sent back first so as to leave the road clear for the soldiers, covered by the cavalry. One day the pursuit was not made for some reason, and a few horsemen ventured to look into it, but only to be driven back with two animals badly wounded. Cortés resolved to be avenged. He ordered Sandoval to reënforce him so as to increase the number of horse to forty. Thirty of these were posted early in the day in a hiding-place near the plaza, and close by a hundred select soldiers and a corps of Tlascaltecs. When the hour came to return to camp, the Mexicans, as expected, fell upon the retreating lines in stronger force than ever, encouraged by the achievement of the previous evening and by the pretended timidity of the ten horsemen who covered the rear. When the first columns of pursuers had well passed the hiding-place, the signal was given, and with ringing Santiagos the parties in ambush rushed upon the startled warriors. Finding their retreat cut off, the severed section lost presence of mind, and permitted themselves to be butchered like cattle. When the massacre was over, fully five hundred of the flower of the Aztec armies covered the ground.[1191] Never again were the Spaniards exposed to pursuit near or beyond the plaza, or indeed to any such fierce charges, and the horses became again an object of awe.[1192]
The captives were questioned regarding the condition of the city, and from them a revelation was obtained showing that the majority of the occupants were in favor of capitulation, but afraid to express their views in face of the firmness of Quauhtemotzin and his party, who were resolved to defend their city to the end. And there was still enthusiasm among the Mexican people. Women and cripples could be seen preparing and bringing war material for stronger arms to use; they swept dust from the roofs into the faces of assailants, while children threw tiny stones and lisped an echo of the curse that fell from the lips of their parents. But all this manifest spirit was slowly but surely subsiding, and deep and dismal woe was settling down upon them.[1193] Alas for Mexico, pride of the grand plateau! Alas for thine ancient grandeur! Blotted out forever must be thy culture, crushed thy budding progress! The days of thy glory are ended; and so are thy bloody ceremonies and sacrificial stones!
Long sieges had never suited the native ideas of warfare, and experience could therefore teach little in the preparation for the event. Vast supplies had been accumulated by the Mexicans, but a large influx of fugitives from the lake towns had swelled the number of non-combatants and had helped to diminish the food supply, which had received but scanty additions, owing to the close watch of the cruisers. Nor had any restrictions been placed on consumption, since the provisions were chiefly in private hands. Now famine was raging with rapidly increasing horrors, and jewels were offered by the handful for an equal quantity of food.[1194] Excluded from such competition, the poorer classes sought in holes and canals for snails, lizards, and rats, skimmed the surface of the water for its mucilaginous scum, or tore up the earth for roots and weeds, glad even to chew the bark of trees, and anxiously waiting for the scanty allowance of brackish water. Disease was marching hand-in-hand with hunger, and weakened by their sufferings hundreds were left to linger in torment till welcome death relieved them. The frequency of these incidents made the people callous, and the sufferings even of near friends were looked on with indifference by the gaunt and hollow-eyed, who were themselves marked for death.
Regardless of the consequences, many crept at night close to the Spanish camps in search of roots and refuse which could no longer be found within their precincts. Advised of such movements, a body of soldiers and allies was sent out before sunrise one day and fell on a large number, slaughtering many of them before discovering them to be starving women and children.[1195] It was necessary to take increased measures even against these surreptitious attempts to sustain the defence, and to keep in the useless population, though there was little prospect of any important exodus, since the fear of the savage and cannibal auxiliaries who surrounded the city made its very pest-holes appear attractive places of refuge. The vessels were particularly efficient for this purpose, the more so since the crews had found a ready means to render the submerged stakes and palisades of little hindrance.[1196] They were thus enabled to ravage the suburbs, and to coöperate with the other forces by landing and driving the inhabitants toward the narrow quarter in which they were now confined. They had not always an easy task, however, for the Mexicans were growing more reckless, and would sometimes venture to meet even the ‘winged houses.’
On one occasion a portion of the fleet was closely beset in a confined place, and the flag-ship happening to strand on some timbers the crew became panic-stricken and sought to abandon her. Martin Lopez, the builder, who was the chief pilot, at once turned against the deserters, and being a large and powerful man he pitched two into the water, beat and bruised half a dozen others, and soon compelled their return to duty. He thereupon led them against the enemy and drove them off, killing the leader, who was a prominent officer. For this important service the brave Lopez was rewarded with a captaincy.[1197]
Cortés made quite rapid advance in the work of demolition, considering the immensity of it. The Tlacopan road had been levelled, rendering communication easy with the camp of Alvarado, and on the eve of Santiago’s day[1198] the greater part of the main street to the market was gained. This thoroughfare bore afterward the name of Guatemotzin,[1199] because this emperor’s palace was here situated. Strongly fortified, its capture was not effected without a severe struggle, wherein many a brave fellow met his fate. During the fight Alderete’s horse became unmanageable from a thrust, and rushed amid the enemy in mad fury, creating more disorder by his pawing and biting than a squad of soldiers could have done.[1200]
Equally severe was the struggle on the following days in entering and filling a street with a wide canal, adjoining the main road. At the same time was taken a temple,[1201] wherein a number of impaled bearded heads stared the horrified Spaniards in the face. Tears filled the eyes of the beholders, and reverently the ghastly remains were taken down to receive Christian rites.[1202]
The progress of Cortés’ party in the direction of Tlatelulco market, the objective point of all the movements, had impelled Alvarado to almost superhuman efforts to gain before them a spot lying much nearer to his camp. Once within, he hoped to keep his ground, for it was large and level, twice the size of the market-place in Salamanca, says Cortés, and capable of accommodating sixty thousand persons. It was lined with porticos, wherein more substantial traders had their shops, while the open square was covered with booths, between which the Spaniards had so often wandered to gaze on products of every variety, from field and forest, from river and mountain, as well as from the workshop of artisan and artist.[1203] Thus it was formerly; but now were to be displayed only the worst phases of human selfishness, cunning, and brutality; blood and corpses in lieu of fabrics and provisions; fierce war-cries and the clash of arms in place of merry traffickings and the clink of coin. By the day following Santiago’s day Alvarado had levelled a wide approach, and now he resolved to direct his whole strength against this plaza, leaving merely a portion of his auxiliaries to attend to further razing operations. Before dawn the next morning he advanced with all his force and took the Aztecs by surprise. He effected an entrance with little trouble, and was able to meet in good order the bands which came to retrieve their neglect by fierce charges. They were led by the renowned orders of Tigers and Eagles, conspicuous in their corresponding gear, and eager to maintain the reputation which had gained for them their insignia. Mayehuatzin, lord of Cuitlahuac, was also among the prominent leaders, but the cavalry soon obliged him to turn in flight, and enabled the infantry to capture a number of the shops which lined the market, and begin to pillage. Much more determined proved the division under the Tiger captain, Coyohuehuetzin, who fell back and maintained himself on the Momuztli edifice.
While the main portion of the Spanish forces thus fought at different points in the plaza with varying advantage, Captain Gutierre de Badajoz was ordered to capture the great temple which overlooked the market. It was held by Temilotzin and Tlacatecatl, who fiercely disputed his advance. Time and again were his men driven back, or sent tumbling down the steps, bruised and bleeding, many a one never to rise. But Badajoz persevered, and step by step he climbed upward, sustained by reënforcements, till after two hours of hard contest the summit was gained, first by Alférez Montaño. Woe now to the defenders remaining! Not a Spaniard there but had wounds to show, and not one who did not strive to exact blood for blood. It was a repetition of the aerial combat of the year before on the summit of the central temple. The Mexicans neither expected mercy nor asked it; rather longed they to dedicate their last breath to the gods, and gain by glorious death admission into the abode of the blessed. By nine o’clock in the forenoon the two wooden towers holding the altars and idols were gained, and the next moment dense smoke columns rose to announce the victory of the Spaniards.[1204] Loud rose the wail of the natives as they witnessed the portentous result, and with the recklessness of despair they renewed their onslaught, led by Axoquentzin and the Eagle captain, Quachic. So severely pressed was Alvarado that he was obliged to call down Badajoz and to concentrate his forces, abandoning the several temples which surrounded the large pyramid. Encouraged by this success the Mexicans pushed their advantage from all sides, and unable to hold their position the Spaniards retired with considerable loss, including three horses.[1205]
Nothing daunted, Alvarado repeated his entry on the following day, and met with comparatively little opposition, the enemy being evidently discouraged by the fall of the temple and the resolute bearing of the Spaniards. He now passed through and came up to Cortés’ party, by whom he was received with ringing and repeated cheers. The latter had just captured the last canal and intrenchments near the market-place, after a sharp struggle, and now the general and his doughty lieutenant entered the market and ascended the lofty pyramid, on which the royal banner waved a proud welcome, while beside it the still impaled heads of white and dusky victims recalled the bitter vengeance yet to be exacted. Surveying the city beneath him on all sides, Cortés says: “It seemed undoubted that of eight parts we had gained seven.” The late magnificent metropolis, the finest and largest on all the northern continent, displayed now a mass of ruins, through which the broad paths levelled by the invaders led to the one corner which alone remained to the besieged,[1206] wherein, amid famine, pest, and putrefying bodies, they huddled in packed masses, sending forth from their midst the groans of dying and loud lamentations, in an atmosphere so pestiferous that the soldiers who entered the lately abandoned lanes were almost stifled. People were found in different stages of hunger and disease, meeting the soldiers with passive indifference in the recklessness of despair. Beyond on the roofs stalked the warriors, gaunt and yellow, like caged and starving beasts.
Cortés felt painfully oppressed on beholding so much misery, and at once ordering a stay of hostilities he sent some captive chiefs to Quauhtemotzin with peace proposals, showing the utter futility of further resistance, which could involve only a needless infliction of suffering and slaughter, and embitter against him and his the besieging forces. He was prepared to forget all past animosity, and respect the persons and property of the besieged, and his rights as sovereign, and demanded in return only the renewal of allegiance already offered in Montezuma’s time. Quauhtemotzin scarcely gave the messengers time to speak, before he answered solemnly: “Tell Malinche that I and mine elect to die. We will intrust ourselves neither to the men who commit, nor to the God who permits, such atrocities!”
Struck by the lofty bearing of the doomed, and desirous of securing the treasure which the besieged assured him would all be cast into the water before his fingers should touch it, Cortés again sent a proposal, formally attested by notary and witnesses, declaring that the responsibility for the terrible consequences which must follow the rejection of his offer would fall wholly on the besieged. But all without avail. And when the priests came and declared the oracle, “Appeased by sacrifice the gods have promised victory after three days,” Quauhtemotzin made answer, his council being present: “It is well. And since it is so, let us have a care of the provisions, and if need be die fighting like men. Let no one henceforth speak of peace under pain of death!”
Preparations were accordingly made to renew hostilities at the designated time, on which occasion sacred relics were to be brought into service from the paraphernalia of Huitzilopochtli, one a twisted snake sceptre set with mosaic, called the Xiuhcoatl, which was said to become alive when launched against the foe and terrify them to flight; the other a war-dress of feathers tipped with an owl’s head of fearful aspect, an ægis to scatter the enemy.[1207]
Cortés on his side was not impatient to break the truce, for he knew that hunger and disease were efficiently fighting his battle, and he was besides busy constructing in the market-place a catapult which was to soon end his labors there whatever might be the further decision of the Mexicans. The idea had been suggested by a soldier named Sotelo, who boasted of military science acquired during the Italian wars; and since powder was becoming scarce the necessary carpenters were readily furnished to construct the machine. “Behold!” cried the Tlascaltecs, pointing it out to the Mexicans, “behold a monster mechanism which will quickly annihilate you!” But on trial it proved a failure.
Then messengers were again despatched to Quauhtemotzin to talk of peace, and were told that they should have an answer soon. Next day the Spanish sentinels observed a great commotion among the Mexicans and a gathering of armed masses. They gave due notice of this, but before the troops were fully prepared the enemy came rushing from their retreats with a suddenness that threw the first opposing lines in disorder, a number being wounded and several killed, at least among the auxiliaries.[1208] The troops quickly rallied, however, under cover of the artillery, and Cortés resolved to inflict chastisement. Alvarado was ordered to attack a large ward containing over a thousand buildings, while the remaining forces should turn against the main quarter. Incited by the presence of the mystic owl and the sacred snake-bearer, the Mexicans fought with an indifference to fate that turned the war into a butchery. When the survivors were driven back it was ascertained that over twelve thousand Mexicans had been killed or captured.
The promised victory had proved a disastrous defeat, and even the most hopeful Mexican sank into the depths of despair. This feeling was greatly fostered by a strange occurrence about this time, which the native records describe as a fiery whirlwind, resolving into flames and sparks. It rose with great noise in the north, after sunset, revolved over the doomed quarter and disappeared in the lake, leaving the natives overwhelmed with apprehensions.[1209]
Their eyes were fully opened to the situation. And in pondering on the dreadful past and present, the dreadful future became dim, even its terrors growing every day fainter. They had been passive under the pain of wounds and under hardships indescribable; but when at last frenzied mothers and fathers seized upon their own offspring to still the pangs of hunger over which sane minds no longer had control; when others began furtively to look about for less closely allied beings whereon to feed, then indeed a stranger and more terrible fear came over them.[1210]
When Cortés returned with full force on the following day to renew the fight, crowds of miserable beings came forth, repulsive in their emaciated and haggard appearance, careless of their lives yet clamoring for mercy and for bread. Moved by the appeal, he ordered them not to be injured, and proceeded to answer certain chiefs who had summoned him to a parley. “Son of heaven!” they cried, “within one brief day and night the tireless orb returns. Why dost not thou also finish thy task as quickly? Kill us, so that we may no longer suffer, but enter paradise and join the happy throng already sent thither!”[1211] He told them that in their hands was the remedy. They had but to cease their insane opposition, and their suffering would cease, for he would give them food and respect their persons and property. No satisfactory answer was returned. They were evidently afraid to speak of peace, though eager for it. Cortés felt convinced that the emperor and a few leading nobles were the only persons holding back, and willing to spare the people he again resolved on an appeal.
A distinguished captive was prevailed on to carry this message in order to give it more weight,[1212] and to use his influence with the emperor. On appearing before Quauhtemotzin the noble began to speak of the kind treatment he had received from the Spaniards. Praise of this nature hardly accorded with the mood of the ruler or with the views he wished to impart, and no sooner did the envoy allude to peace than he was ordered away with an imperious sign to the stone of sacrifice.[1213] Any fate for ruler and people was better than to fall into the hands of Christian civilization. At the same time the warriors faintly threw themselves against the Spaniards with shouts of “Death or liberty!” The attack cost the besiegers a horse, and several men were wounded, but the charge was easily repelled, and was followed up by further slaughter. That night the allies encamped within the city.
The following day Cortés again approached some nobles at an intrenchment and asked, “Why remains the emperor so stubborn? Why will he not come and speak with me, and stay the useless slaughter of his subjects?” Bound by superstitious loyalty to their ruler, weepingly they replied, “We know not; we will speak with him; we can but die!” Presently they returned to say that Quauhtemotzin would present himself in the market-place on the following noon. Delighted, Cortés ordered a dais to be prepared on the raised masonry platform recently used for the catapult, together with choice viands. At the appointed hour the Spanish general appeared in state, with the soldiers drawn up in line, ready to do honor to the distinguished guest. After waiting impatiently for some time, they saw five personages approach, who proved to be the bearers of excuses. Quauhtemotzin could not come, but desired to learn the wishes of Malinche.[1214]
Concealing his chagrin, Cortés caused the nobles to be entertained, and then he sent them to their master with assurance of good treatment; they soon returned with presents, and said the emperor would not come. Again they were sent, and again their efforts were unavailing. The truth is, Cortés desired with the monarch to secure his treasure; else he would not long have stayed his bloody hand. On the other hand, though Quauhtemotzin’s conduct might be attributed to selfish obstinacy, he well knew that even for his people death was to be scarcely more feared than capture; now they might at once enter paradise, but the foreigners sought them but to enslave.
The following day the five nobles again kept Cortés waiting with a promise that the emperor would meet him. The hour having passed without his appearance, the allies, who had been kept in the background during the negotiations, were called forward and the order was given for assault, Sandoval directing the fleet along the shore and up the canals to the rear. “Since they will not have peace, they shall have war!” cried Cortés. Then the carnage became fearful. Spaniards and auxiliaries alike, two hundred thousand strong and more, so it was said, abandoned themselves to the butchery, while Satan smiled approval. In helpless despair, like cooped beasts in the shambles, they received the death-blow as a deliverance.[1215] I will not paint the sickening details so often told of chasms filled, and narrow streets blockaded high with the dead bodies of the unoffending, while down upon the living settled desolation. It must indeed have been appalling when he who had brought to pass such horrors writes: “Such was the cry and weeping of children and women that not one amongst us but was moved to the heart.” Then he attempts to throw upon the allies the blame of it. “Never,” he says, “was such cruelty seen, beyond all bounds of nature, as among these natives.” Already, before this massacre of forty thousand[1216] the streets and houses were filled with human putridity, so that now the Spaniards were forced to burn that quarter of the city to save themselves from infection.
Another morrow engenders fresh horrors. The three heavy guns are brought forward to assist in dislodging the besieged. Fearful lest the emperor escape him in canoes, Cortés directs Sandoval to place vessels on the watch for fugitives, particularly at the basin of Tlatelulco,[1217] into which it is proposed to drive the besieged, there to catch the king and nobles with their gold and jewels. Of a truth Cortés does not wish to kill the miserable remnant of this so lately proud race—particularly if thereby he loses the encaged treasure. So he again appeals to them, and the Cihuacoatl,[1218] chief adviser of the emperor, appears and is treated with great courtesy. After a time he takes his departure, then for the first time declaring that Quauhtemotzin will on no account present himself. “Return then,” exclaims Cortés in ill-suppressed anger, “and prepare for death, invoked, not by high and holy purpose, but by obstinate timidity!”[1219]
Five hours are thus gained by the wily monarch for the escape of the women and children, who pour out in swarms, the fainting supported by the feeble, all emaciated and haggard, and many marked by wounds or disease. Seeing which the allies pounce upon them, all stricken and defenceless as they are, and murder them, to the number of fifteen thousand. And the same number perish in the fall of broken bridges, in the choked canals, and from the tread of their fellow fugitives. How glorious is war! How noble the vocation! How truly great the hero of such hellish deeds! Blush, oh sun! for making such to-morrows; for lending thy light to human intelligence by which to do such diabolical wickedness!
Observing no signs of surrender, Cortés opened fire with his cannon and gave the signal of attack. Another massacre followed, the Mexicans displaying the same apathy and sullen indifference to death as on other late occasions. At some points, however, large bodies surrendered, and the remaining Mexican quarters were fast falling into the conqueror’s hands Sandoval on his side was closely guarding the water front and preparing to coöperate. Entering the harbor basin with a portion of the fleet, he bore down on the canoes with a crash, upsetting the greater number, filled chiefly with nobles and their families, of whom a large portion perished. The canoes which escaped scattered in different directions, into canals and corners, most of them however turning toward a nook of the basin with the brigantines in hot pursuit. At this moment a few boats of larger build emerged from a retreat at the other end and paddled rapidly toward the open lake.
Warned by his commander to watch closely for the emperor, Sandoval had not failed to observe the movement, and he immediately directed García de Holguin, captain of the fastest vessel, to overhaul the fugitives, who might be persons of note. Aided both by sails and oars, Holguin speedily gained on them, and they began to scatter in different directions, evidently with a view to confuse him; but a captive on board indicated one as most likely to contain the emperor.[1220] On approaching it the archers levelled their cross-bows, whereupon a sign of surrender was made, with the pleading cry that Quauhtemotzin was there. As the overjoyed Holguin stepped down to secure his captives, among whom were the young empress, the king of Tlacopan, and other prominent personages,[1221] the monarch bade him respect his consort and his retinue. As for himself, he was at his disposal.
Conducted by his captor, he passed along the streets to the presence of the conqueror, the object of ten thousand eyes, for rumor had preceded him. Men rested from the slaughter to gaze at him. In the distance was heard the din of battle, but along the captive’s path there fell a hush. His was a striking figure. The grave, careworn face betokened suffering. He wore a dingy blood-stained robe, and the pallor which overspread a naturally fair face was yet more heightened by the feverish brilliancy of the eyes, now bent dejectedly on the ground, now looking straight before him. He walked with a firm step, and young as he was, the majestic dignity of the prince and leader impressed every beholder. “He was quite a gentleman,” graciously affirms Bernal Diaz. Cortés had stationed himself on the roof of a high building in the Amaxac ward,[1222] thence to direct operations, and now he caused a dais to be prepared, and a table with refreshments. When the emperor approached the guard drew up in line, and the general advanced with benign dignity and led him to a seat by his side. “Malinche,” said the captive, “I have done all within my power for the defence of my people, but the gods have not favored me. My empire is gone, my city is destroyed, and my vassals are dead. For what have I to live? Rid me therefore of worthless existence.”[1223] Saying this, with his hand he touched a dagger in the belt of Cortés. The general sought to reassure him, declaring that none could resist the Christian’s God. He had performed his duty bravely, like a good prince, and should be treated as such.
Although the great end was thus accomplished, slaughter and pillage were continued until long after vespers. Before the troops withdrew to their respective camps, the prisoners, including the pretty empress, Tecuichpo, were conducted to safe quarters in Coyuhuacan. Shortly afterward a rain set in, aiding the efforts of the Spaniards to check the auxiliaries in their maraudings, and this, developing toward midnight into a furious storm with lightning and thunder, seemed to the homeless Mexicans to be the xiuhcoatl of Huitzilopochtli and the tumult of departing deities. To the conquerors this flashing and thundering of heaven’s artillery was the salvo attending victory, which was celebrated in feasting and merriment till came late slumber with visions of gold, and lands, and vassals.
Thus ended Tuesday, the 13th of August 1521, sacred to St Hippolytus, and accordingly adopted by the conquerors as patron saint of the city. During colonial régime the day was annually celebrated by a solemn festival, wherein the leading citizens and officials rode on horseback in procession round the city, headed by the viceroy and the alférez mayor bearing a banner commemorative of the conquest.[1224] For seventy-five days consecutively, says Cortés,[1225] the siege had been wreathing its coils midst almost hourly scenes of bloodshed, wherein nearly one thousand Spaniards and two hundred times that number of allies had taken part, one hundred or thereabout of the former falling, and many thousands among the latter.[1226]
As for the Mexicans, most of the early authorities assert that fully one hundred thousand perished, besides those who died from pest and famine.[1227] At the order of their sovereign, after the proclamation of peace, the miserable remnant began to evacuate their pest-holes, and to seek the fields adjacent, now lustrous green under refreshing rains. Ah! it was pitiful, life to them now, this world a great charnel-house filled with the bones of their loved ones, and their hearts dead though still bleeding. What were their sins more than those of others, that they should be so stricken, that they should be so ground to the dust while the conquerors flushed with victory were exulting before God because he had so ordered and accomplished? They had sacrificed human beings on the altars of their gods, sixty thousand in one year, some said. But what were these butcheries of the Spaniards but human sacrifices, of more than six times sixty thousand in one year! Behold them as they file along the causeway, the very sun striking black and stifling on their famine-stricken forms and agonized faces. On them, then, ye conquerors! Complete your work; for in its swift continuance is their earliest rest![1228]
The 14th of August the troops entered the surrendered quarters to review their work and its results. “I swear,” writes Bernal Diaz, “that the lake and houses and abodes were so full of bodies and heads of dead men that I am unable to convey an idea thereof; for in the streets and courts of Tlatelulco there were no other things, and we could walk only amidst dead bodies.”[1229] Many became sick from the stench, and Cortés ordered fires to be lighted to purify the air. Natives were sent to bring forth the dead, and with them went Spaniards seeking for gold, silver, precious stones, and plumage, leaving textile fabrics and other less valued effects to the allies; but the quantity known to have been obtained fell far below their extravagant expectations, and in their disappointment the soldiers searched the persons of fugitives, looking into their very mouths for hidden gold, says a native record. Bernal Diaz complains that the brigantine crews had already plundered the wealthiest persons, who were in the canoes, and had sacked the treasure-houses while the others were fighting. They in their turn affirmed that the Mexicans had cast their treasures into the lake. The mysterious depths harbor many secrets, and beneath the waters, round the famed city of the Aztecs, tradition still places glittering deposits of untold extent.
Three or four days after the fall, Cortés passed over to Coyuhuacan with the greater part of his forces, there more formally to celebrate the end of the siege in banqueting and thanksgiving. A feature of the performance was a solemn procession by all the soldiers, bareheaded, with banners, raising their voices in praise to God, who had given them the victory, and who was so soon to be worshipped from gulf to southern sea.[1230]
The services of the allies being at present no longer needed, Cortés assembled them to speak farewell. He dwelt in flattering terms on their brave and effective deeds. He promised they should be duly represented to his majesty, who would reward them with singular privileges. To the chiefs were then given shields, robes, and other articles, with promises of more lands and vassals. Then they went their way, happy in their slaves and spoils, happy in the thought of humbled foe, happy in the promises of the Spaniards; they did not know, poor simpletons, that all along the days and nights of this terrible siege, with sword and lance on Aztec breast, they had been forging their own fetters, which they and their children long must wear.[1231]
The conquest of Mexico was less a subjugation by Spanish soldiers than their skilful manœuvring of New World forces against one another. Had Anáhuac been united it would have succumbed less readily, perhaps never. As it was, while the native nations were slaying each other, fighting out their ancient feuds, the astute Spaniards laid their all-possessing hand upon the country.
Nor was any apology on their part needed before Christendom. Mankind to this day have not become so humane and just as not to find excuse for any wrong within the realms of strength and inclination. What then could be expected of an age and nation wherein it was not uncommon to cloak crime under the fair garb of religion. Hitherto came the Spaniards to murder and to rob: to rob and murder in the name of charity and sweet heaven. No excuses were necessary, however convenient to that end came the appeals of the Cempoalans groaning under terrible oppression at the hand of a race delighting in blood and extortion; a race which within two centuries had risen from a degrading servitude largely by means of intrigue and treachery; a race stamped with ignoble characteristics born of serfdom, and eager to retaliate on others for their past humiliation, yet energetic, enterprising, and advancing with rapid strides along the pathway of indigenous culture. Ambitious to rule, they sent their armies to bring province after province under the yoke. Rapacious collectors followed to press the substance out of the people, for the appetite of themselves and their masters. Confiscation, enslavement, and desolation marched in the train, and the fairest hopes of the land were dragged away in bondage, and to bleed on the stone of sacrifice.
To all these appalling evils the Totonacs, among others, were exposed, when soldiers appeared on their shores bearing aloft the symbol of charity, of deliverance. The crushed family appealed to them, also the writhing slaves, for from the altars of hideous idols rose the dying shrieks of youths and maidens. But a short time before knights of different orders swarmed over Europe, the professed champions of the oppressed; and the spirit of the crusaders still lingered in Spain, in form if nothing more; and what Christian soldier could unheedingly view such outrages!
Montezuma and his people were inhuman monsters, and Grotius, Montesquieu, and others who should know, say that war in behalf of humanity is a duty;[1232] and this notwithstanding the remedy be tenfold more inhuman than the disease.
Not that the Spaniards were insincere in their proffers of such excuses; duty comes to us in the color of our desires. Moreover, they were fresh from the Moorish wars; they were imbued with a religious exaltation and chivalric sentiment that placed before them in varied light duty to their God, their king, and themselves. For centuries they had been trained to devote life and possessions to advance the interests of sovereign and church. Many of the noblest characteristics were interwoven in the nature of Cortés, and also with admirable distinctness in such men as Juan Velazquez, Sandoval, and Puertocarrero. In others we find the dignity of the hidalgo upheld without marked stain, and this notwithstanding the tendency to intrigue, the disregard for truth and justice, and a yielding to certain vices on the part of leaders, and the greed and brutality of rank and file. But even among the common soldiers, in fairness we cannot disregard the echo of noble sentiment, the aspiration toward high emprise there present. It is the leader, however, who with all his selfish cruelties and unprincipled trickeries must ever remain the central figure of our admiration. If ever there was a hero, a genius of war worthy the adoration of war worshippers, if ever there were grand conception and achievement, all were vividly displayed in the mind and person of Hernan Cortés.
An able French writer, comparing the siege of Mexico with that of Troy, depicts Cortés as an Achilles in whom were combined the talents of Agamemnon and Ulysses.[1233]
In some respects, and as compared with his companions, he indeed approached the deity the Mexicans thought him. Behold him out upon this venture, throwing life to the winds that waft him from Cuba, sinking his ships behind him, plunging into the heart of a hostile country, and with a handful of men opposing powerful armies, quelling insurrections, capturing his captors, turning enemies into allies, balancing upon his finger contending powers, and after the grand cataclysm opened by him on the central plateau has spent itself, he quietly pockets the prize. No Alexander, or Scipio, or Cæsar, or Napoleon ever achieved results so vast with means so insignificant. It was indeed a rare piracy!