In 1517 the governor of Cuba, Diego Velasquez, began to send some of his subordinates to explore the coast of Yucatan. One of them brought back ornaments and vessels of gold and also information as to the extent and importance of the great native power in the interior of the land. An expedition was then put in charge of Hernando Cortez, who for eight years had been an adventurer in the New World. The new leader was a native of Medellin in Estremadura, where he had been born in 1485. He had received a good education, graduating as bachelor of laws, but, after leading an irregular life at home, he had sailed for the West Indies, where he had spent eight years, first in Hispaniola, then in Cuba. Like other adventurers, he had taken part in Indian warfare and had been a planter. Powerful interests worked against his appointment; accordingly, when he left Cuba he was informed that Velasquez intended to supersede him in the command. His fleet carried 110 sailors, 553 Spanish soldiers, 200 Indians, some artillery, and a valuable asset for the conquest, sixteen horses.

On the 12th of March, Cortez’ squadron arrived at Potonchan, having previously stopped at Cozumel to pick up Geronimo de Aguilar, who had taken part in an earlier and unsuccessful expedition to the coast of the continent. He had become a member of a native pueblo, had married an Indian, and was especially useful because of his knowledge of the Indian tongue. At Potonchan the inhabitants brought out provisions in boats, but were not disposed to receive the newcomers in their village; indeed, they asked them to accept the food,—bread, fruit, and birds,—and take themselves off. Cortez arranged an ambush near the pueblo and, according to the agreement, two hundred men under Alvarado and Avila rushed upon the settlement when the natives came out a second time to bring provisions. In the meantime the Spaniards on the ships disembarked under the fire of their artillery. There was some sharp fighting, and by the time the pueblo was taken most of the inhabitants had fled to the highlands nearby. The dead were not counted, but there were many wounded and a few captives. Perhaps the actual fighting men on the native side in this first engagement were not more than four or five thousand. Plenty of food was found in the place, but no gold. There was soon another battle, in which eight hundred or a thousand Indians were killed. Apparently they fell into a panic when they confronted cavalry for the first time; “they thought the man and beast were one thing.”

Twenty-two days the expedition now halted, as the pueblo was well supplied with provisions, and the enemy was active outside. Finally the Indians, who were exposed to the prevailing bad weather and were without food, sued for peace, making a rich present to Cortez. But this was nothing, Diaz del Castillo naïvely says, in comparison with the twenty women, who were distributed as booty to the Spanish captains; one in particular was a prize—the celebrated Doña Marina, who spoke the language of the Aztecs, and also, because she had been a slave on the coast, knew the languages of Yucatan and Tabasco. As Aguilar understood Tabasco there was made possible, through Marina, direct communication with the people of the country. “It was a great beginning for our conquest,” says the worthy Diaz.

When Cortez received the natives’ peace offering, he was careful to inquire where they had acquired the gold and jewels. They replied by directing him to the setting sun, and mentioned the words Culchua and Mexico. This was a sufficient indication, and on the 18th of April, Cortez left Potonchan and in three days arrived at San Juan de Ulua. Here the emissaries of Montezuma, who from the accounts he had received through his messengers, was convinced that the Europeans were none other than the famous divine being Quetzalcohuatl and his companions returning by sea after a visit to the sun, greeted Cortez with extraordinary honors.

There was abundance of food,—chicken, maize, bread, and cherries,—drinks of very good cocoa, and, more welcome still, many pieces of gold, some well worked, and a large quantity of the feathered drapery and jewels. Cortez represented himself as the friendly ambassador of Charles V, sent on a special mission of peaceful curiosity. His chief interest was concentrated on the gold, however, for he particularly inquired of the Aztec Teuhtlilli who spoke for Montezuma whether his master had gold. When he answered in the affirmative, Cortez bluntly said, “Send me some of it.” In return for the generous welcome given them the Spaniards amused themselves, in the days following their disembarkation at San Juan, by showing the natives their arms and bloodhounds and explaining how they meant to use them in their passage through the country.

The news of the manners of the mysterious strangers threw Montezuma into a panic; he was more convinced than ever when he heard of the rapacity and cruelty of the Spaniards that Cortez was nothing less than Quetzalcohuatl, the description given being admirably suited to one of the principal divinities of the Aztec theology. To the king’s mind the sole remedy lay in incantations; he summoned therefore the most experienced experts to devise powerful enchantments to keep the whites from approaching the Aztec capital. The charms were inefficacious. At his wits’ end, the Aztec overlord sent peaceful directions to all his dependents.

After the disembarkation at San Juan de Ulua the adventurers did not pass their time in idle dreams; they found abundance of occupation in collecting gold and precious stones, giving the natives in return objects of small value. Fresh embassies presented themselves to Cortez, not only with the usual presents, but giving useful information. Among them was a representative of Ixtlilxochitl, the lord of Texcoco, who spoke of the tyranny of Montezuma, who had killed his brother. He welcomed the Spaniards as allies who would help him to avenge the murder. Cortez saw in this an opportunity to encourage dissension among the natives, by taking advantage of which he could make himself master of both factions, and so control the country. He desired to found a settlement at the place at which they had first touched land. There was a division among his followers on this point; some of them regarding his purpose of making himself the captain general of the new colony as an act of disloyalty to Velasquez, the governor of Cuba. He met the situation by putting the most obstinate of his opponents in chains, and finally all the members of the expedition were won over by the generous promises he made, although there was complaint at his proposal to take for himself one-fifth of all the gold that might be gathered from the natives.

The colony Cortez succeeded in establishing received the name of Vera Cruz, because they had reached the spot on Holy Saturday; the words Villa Rica were added to mark the fertility of the surrounding country. Visits were made to neighboring pueblos with profitable results. At Cempoala twenty of the leading men, accompanied by their chief, presented themselves; there were the usual valuable offerings, and Cortez took care to promise his aid in defending and helping his new acquaintances. The chief complained of the oppression of Montezuma, explaining that his people had only lately been conquered and had been deprived of much treasure. They were obliged to carry out his orders, he said, because the Aztec was the lord of great cities, lands, vassals, and armies of warriors. Before leaving the pueblo, Cortez spoke of his philanthropic mission as the representative of the Emperor Charles V, promising that after he had returned to his fleet he would see that their grievances were remedied.

The impression made by the benevolent stranger was so great that at Cempoala 400 natives were offered by the chief of the pueblo as pack-carriers—men of great endurance, the chronicler says, who could carry fifty pounds weight five leagues. This was a great relief to the Spaniards, who had hitherto been obliged to transport the valuables they collected from the villages through which they passed on their own shoulders in small sacks. Other pueblos were treated to the same successful diplomacy.

The more Cortez heard of the country, the more he was convinced that the real objective of the expedition must be Montezuma and his capital. The presents received by the adventurers and the tales they heard showed that their journey must, if their hopes were to be realized, have its termination in Mexico. When the second installment of presents came from the Aztec capital, the astute commander remarked to some of his men nearby, in admiration of the valuable articles so freely placed in his hands, that the Aztec overlord must be great and rich. “If God wills,” he said, “some day we shall have to go and see him.” This pious aspiration fell on no unwilling ears, and the opportune moment came sooner than even the most sanguine adventurer could have hoped, for Cortez soon succeeded in forming an alliance with thirty pueblos, contiguous to his own settlement, all of them ready to follow him as their leader in an expedition which was to free them from the burdensome yoke of Aztec despotism. The fighting force now available must have been considerable, for we know that one pueblo, Quiahuistlan, half a league distant from Vera Cruz, offered to supply 5000 men.

In the meantime, a ship had arrived from Cuba with seventy Europeans and nine horses. The expedition had now been three months in Mexico, and the demand to push on to Montezuma’s city was general. Cortez sent home an account of his experiences, in which he drew up a formal accusation against the Cuban governor, Velasquez, fortifying his own claims by a rich present in excess of the value of the royal fifth, the statutory portion. “It is the first we have sent,” the commander said to his comrades in excusing and explaining a generosity that had to be collected from their hoards. This act of loyalty was an additional stimulus to the adventurers, who saw in their march to the interior an easy method of recuperating their losses. When the commissioners were about to leave for Spain, some of Cortez’ men proposed to accompany them. Cortez arrested them immediately. Two were put to death; one, a pilot, was deprived of his feet, and the common seamen received each two hundred lashes. Father Diaz would have been punished, too, had not Cortez respected his habit. One of the victims who was executed was Pedro Excudero, who had made charges against Cortez in Cuba before the expedition sailed.

To prevent the recurrence of such attempts at desertion and also to add to his men the crews of the vessels, Cortez resolved to destroy the fleet in the harbor, with the exception of one small boat which was to carry the commissioners back to Spain. The proposal was arranged not to come from the commander himself, because, if he had taken the initiative, he might have been obliged to pay off the seamen out of his own pocket. So, as Herrera, one of the adventurers, says, “if anyone asked him to pay the money, he could retort that the advice was ours, and that we were all involved in settling up the accounts.”

Cortez knew that he would meet with no mercy at Velasquez’ hands; his only chance, therefore, was to remain in Mexico, and that the destruction of the fleet rendered certain. The daring plan was carried out secretly at night by the master of one of the ships, an intimate friend of the commander. The crews had been removed beforehand, and the explanation made by Cortez’ envoy in Spain, Montejo, was that the ships were old and on the point of foundering before they were scuttled. This plausible statement was not more convincing than the rest of the envoy’s argument, and the Royal Senate of the Indies condemned Cortez’ conduct as “contrary to righteousness and justice.” He had acted also contrary to the commands of the governor of Cuba, who, in the meantime, as the case was being discussed by the home authorities, asked that capital sentence be passed. Cortez’ view finally prevailed because of the fortunate outcome of his march, and in 1522 Velasquez was directed not to send to New Spain any people or armed forces.

After scuttling the ships Cortez returned to Cempoala to arrange for the expedition. The chieftains of the pueblo advised that the route by the way of Tlaxcala should be taken because the people of that place were their friends and mortal enemies of the Aztecs. A start was made on the 16th of August with 400 Spaniards, 15 horses, and 5 pieces of artillery. In all the chronicles of the expedition there is a discreet reserve as to the number of Indian allies. It seems to have been a fixed policy to obscure this point. But the native contingent must have been very large, for at each pueblo where the expedition sojourned one hears of the acquisition of native warriors; at Ixtacamaxtitlan, a small place, the chief gave 300 soldiers.

On reaching Tecoac in Tlaxcala the invaders found that the attitude of the people was distinctly hostile; in a preliminary skirmish thirty warriors preferred to die rather than yield. The inhabitants of the pueblo were then cut to pieces, as they refused to retire or surrender. This was on the last day of August; the next day there was a hot battle, in which the Spaniards seem to have been saved by their native allies from destruction. Diaz del Castillo says that Cortez thanked them profusely, and adds that the Spaniards were panic-stricken by the wild shouts of their opponents. There was soon after another battle, where the escape of the Spaniards was due to the existence of dissensions in the Indian camp; the people of the pueblo refused to stand by one another. Much damage was done in the second ranks of their warriors by the fire of the artillery, but fifty of the Spaniards were wounded, and one was killed, together with all the horses. Cortez estimated his enemies at 149,000, plainly an impossible figure.

Marauding expeditions were made against the defenseless pueblos, whose fighting men were with the Tlaxcalan army. Women and children were put to the edge of the sword without mercy, and the dwellings were burnt to the ground. Fifty emissaries appeared on the 7th of September to ask for peace, bringing with them presents of food and plumage ornaments. Some were suspected of treachery, and all fifty, by Cortez’ orders, had their hands cut off. The same day the Spanish camp was attacked by 10,000 men, warriors of the greatest valor, but even this danger was repelled because the plan was known beforehand. The situation of the Spaniards was almost desperate, for they had lost a hundred and fifty of their number, and the survivors were worn out by anxiety and by the constant physical fatigue. There was depression in the camp, some proposing return to Vera Cruz, where the natives were friendly and where help could be had from Cuba. But the commander’s spirit did not falter. He sent three of his leading captives to Tlaxcala to ask for a peaceful passage through their country to Mexico. After deliberation the proposal was granted, although there was opposition, especially on the part of the young chief Xicotencatl, who declared that in another night attack he could take the camp and slay all the Spaniards. The peace party carried the day, and Cortez entered the pueblo on the 23d of September, receiving a royal welcome from the inhabitants, who gave him valuable assistance and an enduring loyalty.

After a month’s stay Cortez set out again with 5000 of these new allies, “men much experienced in warfare,” as he himself allows. In the neighborhood of Cholula he sent the inhabitants word, on receiving their envoys, that they must become vassals of the Spanish crown, saying if no reply were received within three days, he would attack and destroy them. This menace had its effect, and great hospitality was shown to the Spaniards and their allies. The streets and roofs were crowded with people as the army entered the town, and they were lodged in several large halls. The drain on the stores of the natives was so great that on the third day they brought only water, rushes, and wood. The scantiness of these offerings was to Cortez a demonstration that the townspeople were disaffected and were plotting against their guests. He issued an order therefore that all the chief men of the place should assemble in the court of the temple of Quetzalcohuatl. Suspecting no harm, they obeyed. To strike terror into the natives, Cortez planned to murder the principal men and the priests; but there were a great many other warriors of the pueblo in the inclosure so crowded together they could not move. At the entrance were stationed the Spaniards, who, at a given signal, rushed on the unarmed mass. Some were mowed down; some burnt themselves alive, while others cast themselves down from the temple pyramid, the raised platform on which the altar was placed. In two hours, according to Cortez, 3000 met their death. The massacre was continued in the streets for five hours; none were spared until the pueblo was deserted. The carnage continued the next day, gladly shared in by the Tlaxcalans, who had come in to take their part of the pillage. It was the commander’s intention to demolish the place altogether, and the cruel work took two days more.

A fresh start was made on November 1st. The pueblos subsequently visited by the expedition were terrorized by the massacre at Cholula, and there was no stint of offerings. Cortez, too, being now in a better temper because of the jewels, gold, and precious stones so easily collected, did not forget to explain that he had come to save the new vassals of the Spanish Crown from robbery and oppression. In each pueblo he won the inhabitants over by his dexterous diplomacy and pleasing manners, and they readily became his allies. No opposition was encountered during the rest of the journey to Mexico. Meanwhile the news of the massacre at Cholula had completely unnerved Montezuma; “he humbled himself like a reed”; there was no thought of resistance. He sent one of his chief men to impersonate him, as he was afraid to meet Cortez himself. The deceit was soon discovered by the Indian allies, and the substitute for royalty returned in confusion, leaving rich presents behind. Montezuma consulted his magical experts again, but the auspices and enchantments were no more favorable than before. He now saw only death for all his people and for himself; with a fixed fatalism he was convinced there was no escape. Tradition told him that the people from the land of the rising sun were invincible.

It was the eighth day of November when the Spaniards reached the capital of the Aztecs. The army must have been imposing in its size, and perhaps Montezuma’s religious scruples may have been reinforced by others of a different character when he saw the number of his enemies and revolted subjects who followed Cortez. Father Sahagun, a most reliable authority, who visited Mexico in 1529, says that “hardly had the rear guard moved from Ixtapalapan when the vanguard was already entering Mexico.” The welcome was in harmony with the respect caused by the size of the expedition and by the superstitious fears of the Aztec overlord. A thousand of the principal men came out to greet Cortez a half-league from the town. A quarter of a league from the palace Montezuma presented himself with ceremonious pomp, accompanied by the lords of the greater pueblos. He was supported by Cacomer, king of Texcoco, and Cuitlahuatzin, king of Ixtapalapan, each holding him by an arm on either side. All three were dressed alike, except that Montezuma was shod. When Cortez dismounted to embrace him the two accompanying lords forcibly prevented him from touching their master. Flowers were offered according to the Aztec custom; likewise gold and precious stones.

After reassuring the Aztec ruler of his amicable intentions, Cortez went with his suite to lodgings assigned in the treasury of one of the temples, a residence selected because of their character as divine beings. Montezuma spoke to Cortez of the prophecy of the return of Quetzalcohuatl, expressed his willingness to become the vassal of the great lord of the land of the rising sun; and repelled the charges made against him by the people of Tlaxcala and Cempoala. He made, too, a special point of denying the stories of having houses with golden walls and of being served with gold furnishings and vessels. “The houses,” he said, “which you see are stone and chalk and earth; it is true that I have some things of gold left me by my ancestors; all that I have do you take whenever you want it.” The offer was made effective immediately. Cortez had received already many different jewels, much gold and silver and feathers, and five or six thousand pieces of cotton goods, very rich and in divers manners woven and worked. After the interview rich presents of gold were made to the commander, as well as to the captains and to each of the soldiers.

The Spaniards kept watchful guard in spite of the sumptuous welcome; the soldiers were restless and desired to sack the town. Their attitude did not escape the attention of the natives, who began to suspect their motives in remaining in the city. Food commenced to give out, and the horses suffered and also the dogs. In a short time the men did not scruple to sack some of the dwellings near Montezuma’s palace; they showed also little respect for the native women, many of whom had shut themselves up in terror at threatened maltreatment.

It was a well-known and settled policy on the part of the Spaniards in their conquests in the Antilles to seize the native chiefs in order to reduce the members of the tribe to submission. This is made clear in a letter from several Dominican friars, written home as early as 1516, when the practice is noticed. In mentioning it, they explain that the Indians are a people who love their lords much and are very loyal to them. This strategy was now employed with complete success by Cortez. He determined to force Montezuma to take up his residence in the Spanish quarters by use of fair words, then to threaten him immediately with death if he tried to escape from captivity. As an excuse for putting this daring program into execution, Cortez, who entered the palace accompanied by his captains, after the usual friendly welcome, charged Montezuma with responsibility for the death of two Spaniards at Nautlan. Cuauhpopoca, the local chief, it seems, had caused them to be executed because of their offenses and excesses. Some time passed in discussing the charge which the Aztec monarch, of course, denied. Cortez’ comrades wished to hasten proceedings by killing the Aztec at once. Finally Montezuma, completely terrorized, agreed to accompany Cortez, and also followed his direction that he should tell his people that the step was taken voluntarily at the advice of his priests.

The chief of Nautlan, his son, and fifteen of the principal men of the pueblo were summoned to the capital by Montezuma. Cortez ordered them to be burnt; at the same time directions were given that all the arms in the city should be collected. Fifteen cartloads in all were to be burnt with the prisoners. Before the execution they confessed that they had acted by order of Montezuma. Cortez put his prisoner in chains, and this outrage was allowed to pass unavenged, for the Aztec lords feared that their ruler would be slain. The timorous monarch told his subjects that what he was enduring in the Spanish quarters had divine sanction. Having the king in his possession, Cortez made detailed inquiry as to the location of gold and silver mines. Much gold was collected, and, whenever there was resistance to the orders from the capital, the chiefs who refused to give up their possessions were treated as rebels to their overlord, and either killed on the spot or imprisoned after being summoned to the capital by orders issued through Montezuma.

Cortez was delighted at the willing compliance of the king in playing the rôle of a puppet in his hands, and he wondered because “great lord as he was, that being a prisoner as he was, he was so much obeyed.” On his own initiative, Montezuma addressed his chieftains, telling them that the Spaniards were sent by Quetzalcohuatl, and begging them to be obedient to Cortez in every respect, urging them to accept their position of vassalage to Spain. This was the signal for another great collecting expedition among the Aztec feudatories, the chief contributor being Montezuma himself. The chronicler’s powers of description are exhausted in enumerating the wealth that poured into the hands of the eager adventurers. There was no scruple in taking what was left after the regular tribute of vassalage had been paid.

The commander, however, was very unwilling to proceed to the distribution, and when he could resist his soldiers’ demands no longer, it was found that the greater part of the three and a half million dollars’ worth of metal had been retained by the leader and the captains. He met their complaints by telling them that they all would be very prosperous and rich, because they would be the masters of rich cities and mines. As a more practical argument, he went among the soldiers giving them secretly gold ornaments, and making individual promises of reward.

Meanwhile the rapacity of the adventurers and their open display of their wealth did not bring so much odium upon them as their forcible efforts to convert the natives. A Christian chapel was placed in the chief temple, an action which seems to have contributed to destroy the illusion among the people that there existed some relation between the newcomers and their god Quetzalcohuatl. The undisguised enmity soon came to a head in plans for a revolt that included a general massacre of the Europeans. When information of the plot was conveyed to Montezuma, who seemed worried at the fate of his strange guests and advised their leaving the city, Cortez spoke of the destruction of his ships and told the king that, when ships were prepared, the latter must go with them to see their emperor. Workmen were sent to Villa Rica to prepare the vessels, but it was probably with no serious intent beyond the purpose of deceiving the prisoners.

This was the state of affairs after five months’ residence in Mexico, when news came that Spanish ships were off the coast, 16 vessels, large and small, 1400 soldiers, 80 horses, and 20 pieces of artillery. When the envoys landed, they summoned the captain of Vera Cruz to accept as superior officer Narvaez, who had been sent by Velasquez to take possession of the country. The four Spanish envoys were hurried off as prisoners under an escort of natives who, by forced marches night and day, reached Mexico in four days. Cortez, with characteristic diplomacy, excused the rude behavior of his lieutenant. Indeed, adequate reparation was made, not only by smooth speeches, of which Cortez was past-master, but by the more telling arguments of gold strips and ornaments. They, in turn, told all they knew of the expedition of Narvaez, and regained the coast, won over by the munificence and the amicable manners of the commander.

No time was lost in heading off Narvaez’ expedition from entrance into the interior. Cortez took most of his men and probably a large force of the native allies sufficient to block Narvaez’ march to the capital. Only 130 Spaniards were left in Mexico under the command of Alvarado. While Narvaez was sojourning at Cempoala despoiling the neighborhood of the few valuables that remained there after Cortez’ march, one of the ecclesiastics from Cortez’ army was sent to visit the rival camp. He showed much dexterity in winning over important men-at-arms, especially those of the artillery, by a judicious distribution of gifts, though outwardly he made loud profession of devotion to Narvaez. The work of this skilled emissary was made the easier because Narvaez kept all the spoil he collected for himself; the contrast was not left unnoticed by the men whom the commander had won.

When the work of undermining Narvaez’ men had been completed, the Friar Olmedo found it easy to break off negotiations and return to his own camp. There was now little difficulty in settling the affairs between the two captains without bloodshed; Narvaez’ men were ready to abandon him. Cortez, as he explains in a letter to Charles V, after drawing near to Cempoala with his army, entered Narvaez’ camp with a few followers by night and, before he was observed, took his rival prisoner. There was only a little fighting; two were killed by artillery fire in preventing those who wished to rescue Narvaez from entering a tower where he had his quarters. This strategy seemed to Cortez the best way “to avoid a scandal,” but less satisfactory to his men was the division of booty found in the camp. Cortez gave it all to Narvaez’ men. “They were many and we were few,” Diaz del Castillo regretfully explains; “Cortez feared that they might kill him and his small band of men-at-arms.”

With the advent of this new army of marauders in the country there appeared a plague of smallpox, a disease hitherto unknown. It made frightful ravages, and its effects were compared by the Indians to those of leprosy. No mention is made of the epidemic by Cortez; he was too alarmed at the news which came from Mexico to heed the sufferings of the native population, who were dying like cattle. While he had been so successful on the coast, his garrison in the capital had been attacked; their quarters had been partly burned and undermined, and Cortez was afraid that all the treasure would be lost, his men massacred, and the city sacrificed. No word had come from Montezuma; it seemed that the worst must have happened.

The difficult situation in which Alvarado was placed was due to his own brutality. Before Cortez had left the city, he had given permission that the festival of the god Toxcatl should be celebrated with the accustomed ceremonies. Alvarado added as further conditions that they should bear no arms nor offer human sacrifices. This festal occasion lent itself readily to a repetition of the butchery of Cholula, and some authorities go so far as to think that Cortez had given secret commands for the massacre before he set off for the coast. While the chiefs, warriors, and other leading men, more than 1000 in number, were solemnly dancing in honor of their god in the court of the temple, unarmed and covered with gold ornaments and jewels and singing as they moved about, half the men of the Spanish garrison entered and ranged themselves around the wall, after closing the entrances to the courtyard. The Indians, thinking they had come in as curious spectators, made no break in the ordinary ritual; suddenly the dancers and the spectators were set upon, and the patio of the temple was soon filled with dismembered heads, arms, and legs. The court was soon nothing but a human shambles. Some tried to escape by climbing over the side walls or by rushing up the temple steps; others feigned to be dead; only a few saved themselves.

The massacre lasted an hour, and, carefully planned as it must have been, no hitch occurred during its progress. The people outside finally got news of what was happening and, picking up their weapons, they made savage attacks on the Spaniards, forcing them back to their quarters. Alvarado himself was wounded on the head. Finding refuge, the Spaniards barricaded themselves as well as they could, and the Indians turned to bury their dead, an operation which took many days on account of the elaborate ceremonial required by the dignity of those who had perished. After the funeral ceremonies, the Mexicans returned impetuously to the attack on the Spanish quarters.

It would have gone hard with Cortez’ men if Montezuma had not interfered in their behalf. Speaking from the roof of the building where he was kept a prisoner, he gave orders to the Aztec warriors to stop the fight. Cortez had heard of the massacre from both sides, as Montezuma had sent to him envoys to complain of Alvarado’s wanton slaughter in the temple. He promised to do justice when he arrived, and also spoke, as a proof of his peaceful temper, of the small force he was bringing back with him. As a matter of fact, when he re-entered the city there were over 1000 Europeans and many allies with him; in Tlaxcala alone he enlisted the services of 2000 men. No opposition was made to this formidable force taking up their old quarters.

It was strange that Cortez, who was usually quick to punish any contravention of his orders, took no account of the massacre. He omits mentioning it in his letters to Charles V, and it is not surprising that Friar Sahagun reports that Cortez approved of the crime and told Alvarado he had done well. In the disturbed conditions in the city no market was held, and the Spaniards were no longer provided with food. Montezuma excused the omission because of his imprisonment. Threatening words were spoken by Cortez, and from this time his prisoner ceased to exert any influence to prevent the revolt against the invaders.

A messenger sent out to Vera Cruz returned to his comrades with the news a half hour later that the whole city was up in arms. Even a group of 200 Spaniards could make no headway through the streets. The Indians faced the artillery in close array, and as fast as they were mowed down, the gaps were filled up by others. They fought with a desperation which caused wonderment even from men in Cortez’ army who had served against the Turks. Constructions of wood were made to protect the Spaniards from the showers of stones that poured down on them from the housetops, while they tried to clear the streets covered with barricades. But they could make no progress, and finally they withdrew to their quarters, pursued by the Aztecs, who entered the palace in the face of the desperate resistance of the Europeans. They threatened to leave no Spaniard alive, yet they begged as suppliants for their lord Montezuma to be given back to them.

Though there are conflicting details given of the Aztec attack on the Spanish quarters, there is not much doubt but that Montezuma had been killed on the morning of the 27th of August, the day the wooden engines were first used. The monarch was no longer of any use now that he had refused to keep the revolt in check. There are different accounts of the murder, but there seems a fairly general agreement that Montezuma was stabbed to death.

As there was no longer any hope of defending their quarters successfully, Cortez tried to save himself and his men by a ruse. The dead body of the Aztec ruler was taken up on the roof, covered with a large shield so that the fact that it was a corpse could not be seen clearly. Then one of the feudatories, the lord of Tlaclolco, addressed the crowd and bade them, as if speaking in the presence of his master, to give up the attack on the Spaniards, because, if they persisted, he was afraid he would be killed. Little impression was made; injurious words were spoken against the vacillating and effeminate ruler, supposedly still alive before them. There was a volley of arrows, and some say the body was struck by a stone. This is the basis of a story circulated purposely by Cortez and others that the monarch had died from the wounds received on the roof, where he had gone voluntarily to speak to his people. It was a dangerous thing for Cortez to confess to the murder, for Montezuma, be it remembered, had accepted the position of a vassal of the Spanish crown. When the Aztecs showed no sign of taking a peaceful attitude, Cortez himself tried the plan of addressing them from the roof, but his diplomacy was of no avail. The only conditions offered were withdrawal from Aztec territory; as long as he stayed in the city, the Aztecs said, they would keep up the fight.

Further essays at street combats showed this to be no idle threat; forty-six Spaniards were killed and persistent attempts were made to pull down the walls of their quarters, while missiles of all kinds were directed on the defenders day and night. In order to bring some relief to this perilous position, Cortez sent one of the prisoners to announce the death of Montezuma, and offered to give up the body, knowing that the burial ceremonies would keep his enemies occupied for several days. But the animosity of the people was not to be diverted from their prey. Cortez was afraid that the one causeway, that to Tlacopan, would be destroyed and the sole means of escape cut off. His men were discouraged; indeed, those who had belonged to Narvaez’ expedition were in a state of mutiny.

One of the Aztec priests and other leading men previously held as prisoners were sent to ask permission for the Spaniards to leave on condition that all the gold should be given up. Timbers were prepared to place across the ditches near the causeway, and a plan of escape was mapped out for the Europeans and their allies. The treasure was carefully guarded by the allies, but before the night appointed for the retreat all the Aztec prisoners were put to death. The soldiers also found a large quantity of gold which they divided among themselves. The exit from the city began just before midnight; there was a severe thunderstorm which kept the Europeans from being observed until they got past the first ditch; here they were seen by a native woman who was drawing water there. She gave the alarm, and before the second ditch was reached the Mexican warriors had gathered to annihilate their enemies. There was immediately a panic, and those who were carrying the gold were forced into the ditch. Diaz remarks laconically, “The gold killed them and they died rich.”

The only Europeans saved were those who carried small amounts of gold. On the mass of Indian allies drowning in the ditch the Spaniards threw their loads; using this living embankment a few of them made their way to safety. Everyone looked out for himself, and when Cortez was reproached for deserting his men, he replied that it was a miracle that anyone had crossed the causeway alive. It was some time before Alvarado, with the miserable surviving rear-guard of seven soldiers, all in a sad plight, reached the main body of the army at Tlacopan. (August, 1520.)

As long as they were in Aztec territory, there was little chance of escaping annihilation, for the disconsolate army after their night journey were set upon by the warriors of the neighboring pueblos. Their Tlaxcalan allies guided them along devious trails until they reached Totoltepec, where the fugitives found some temporary security in a temple, which they were glad to use as a fortress. Fortunately they were not actually pursued by the main body of the Aztec fighting men, who remained behind to collect the gold and jewels cast aside by the Spaniards, and to spoil the dead. Besides, a number of Spaniards had either by choice or by necessity remained in the city. According to one authority not all of Cortez’ soldiers were acquainted with the plan for the night journey; others preferred not to desert their treasures. It is computed that 270 Europeans kept up the fight in the city and then surrendered. During the rest of the retreat there were some sharp skirmishes, and because of their fatigue and discouragement the army’s power of resistance was soon exhausted. Thanks to their native allies, however, they were brought finally to a place of safety in the friendly pueblo of Tlaxcala. The losses had been terrible, nearly 1000 men had perished, besides 4000 of the Tlaxcalans and other natives. At Tlaxcala there was much mourning for the great calamity which had robbed the place of its best warriors, but there was no hesitation in offering Cortez their continued support in resuming the war against the Aztecs.

Cortez was careful to give instructions to his men to treat the inhabitants with consideration and not to rob them of their property. These orders did not cause so much dissatisfaction to the survivors as Cortez’ high-handed procedure in appropriating for himself whatever he could find of the gold that had been saved in the panic of the retreat. Many of the Spaniards spoke of returning to the coast to sail back to Cuba. Cortez’ iron will now stood him in good stead; he quieted his own men, and arranged to start immediately a campaign against Mexico by the help of the Tlaxcalans, promising as the price of their aid a part of all the conquests he made and various privileges and exemptions from tribute.

This offer proved an attractive one not only to the Tlaxcalans but to other natives who saw a further chance of securing their freedom from their Mexican overlords. Over 100,000 men were collected, either by promises or by methods of terrorism; any pueblo that resisted was sacked and the inhabitants massacred. Tepeacac, the center of resistance, was taken; its men were put to death, and the women and children set apart as slaves. As time went on, various individual adventurers appeared off the coast, and by degrees the losses in Europeans, in artillery, and in horses were made up. This good fortune caused so much satisfaction to the veterans of Cortez’ army and their commander that he resolved to undertake the seemingly hopeless task of besieging Mexico itself. Additional re-enforcements and the necessary war supplies were brought from Hispaniola, and in order to attack the Aztec capital in its most vulnerable point brigantines were prepared on the lake, since it was realized that it was impossible to force now an entrance over the causeways.

By the end of December all was ready. The Europeans numbered not quite 700 men, while the native contingent is placed by some at 150,000. From Tlaxcala, 10,000 were asked for, but many more volunteered. As the army proceeded, they found no great difficulty in occupying the places on their route. Some, like Texcoco, had been partially deserted by the inhabitants, who had the forethought to remove their goods. In disgust the Spaniards burnt the town and its palace where all the ancient records in picture scrolls of the Aztec kingdom were preserved. The ravages of the smallpox weakened the Aztec resistance, and among those who died was the implacable enemy of the Spaniards, Cuitlahuac, the brother of Montezuma, who had been chosen as his successor. His death at the end of November was a loss hard to repair. Even Diaz speaks of him as “a valiant man and very prudent.”

As their next chieftain they selected Cuauhtemoc, a cousin of Montezuma, a young man who, during the period of the Spanish occupation of Mexico, had distinguished himself by his active opposition to it. He had taken a leading rôle in the revolt that had brought about the evacuation of the capital, and he now set forward upon the work of defense with great intelligence. Orders were sent to the dependent pueblos to unite in repelling the European invasion, and the tribute was remitted. Care was taken to collect treasures and arms, and Mexico itself was placed in a state of defense by the construction of intrenchments and ditches. Cuauhtemoc’s plan of campaign consisted in concentrating all the available forces in the capital, yet offensive tactics were skilfully applied. His hand was seen when the Spaniards occupied Iztapalapa; here the inhabitants deserted the pueblo, and while their enemies were peacefully enjoying the spoil and resting in their quarters, the sluices were opened, and had not the natives of Texcoco warned Cortez in time all would have been drowned.

Desultory warfare continued for a time on the shores of the lake, Cortez’ policy being to exact vengeance for the hostility of the lake pueblos during the retreat. Many were razed to the ground and burnt. But strenuous operations did not begin until the brigantines were finished. For their construction Cortez was indebted to the skill and industry of the people of Tlaxcala, who at their own expense cut the wood, and transported it over mountainous defiles by bad roads to their own pueblo, where it was cut into shape for the vessels. Thence the pieces were carried eighteen leagues overland to Texcoco on the lake, where, fastened together, they were transformed into ships ready for navigation.

Futile attempts were made by the Aztecs to set fire to this navy, for they recognized the danger of an attack from the water, but there was no thought of surrender. Untiringly, night and day, they prepared for the siege, making new weapons to meet the attacks of cavalry, and constructing barricades in the streets. The Spaniards also had to do much preliminary work to enable the fleet to get into deep water; 8000 Indians were constantly employed in digging a channel from the shore sufficient to accommodate the draught of the brigantines.

All was ready on the 28th of April, 1521. The brigantines were manned with European troops and artillerymen; but as usual the mass of the army was made of native auxiliaries, probably underestimated by Cortez at 80,000 men. Altogether the Spanish nucleus numbered about 1100, half of them lately come to join the veterans. Efforts were made to arrange terms of peace, but the Aztecs refused to listen to Cortez’ complaints of bad treatment and disloyal conduct on the part of his late hosts.

At every point of the advance to the city, Cortez encountered stubborn enmity. There was fighting both on the lake and on the shore, that showed the temper of the people. The brigantines were surrounded by a flotilla of canoes as they proceeded on their way; but it was an unequal combat because the frail canoes of the Aztecs were exposed to the gunfire of the ships. Under the protection of the brigantines a landing was effected on the causeway. Step by step, the defenders were forced back towards the town; as long as they fought on the causeway they were exposed to the raking volleys of the guns on the brigantines.

It was a long, tedious process to take the many barricades of the city, and even when the principal street was reached the determined onslaught of the Aztecs forced the Spaniards back to the causeway bridges. No real ground was gained in these first skirmishes, although there was a concerted plan between Cortez and his lieutenants that they should make for the center of the city at the same time. While the siege was being resisted with such desperation, the straits of the Aztecs induced the neighboring pueblos to send out large contingents of men to break the power that had so long kept them in bondage. Cortez notices especially the support given him from Texcoco both in men and in provisions; they kept on the lake 1000 canoes going and coming with supplies, and 32,000 warriors.

In order to starve the city out, the water supply had been cut off before the siege began, and it was hoped that by guarding the causeways no food could be brought in. Much skill was shown by the Aztecs in overcoming these difficulties; they sent out many canoes by night, a flotilla of specially large canoes filled with warriors who did not hesitate to grapple with the brigantines. One they captured, and they inflicted heavy losses on the equipment of others. The resourcefulness of the defenders was worthy of the skilled campaigners of Europe; but the problem of the food supply could not be solved by deeds of heroism, and famine was more destructive than the weapons of their enemies. They faced not only the actual distress from scarcity of supplies but also the desertion of the city itself by large numbers of warriors who could not be fed within the walls.

The methods of warfare on both sides were worthy of the combatants. Whenever the Spaniards or their allies were taken prisoners, they were treated as victims for sacrifice and offered up in the various temples of the gods with ordinary ceremonial rites. The Spaniards, whenever they entered the streets, burnt and destroyed everything within reach, temples and houses. The rage of the Aztecs at the destruction of all they held dear showed itself in their furious attacks on their enemies as they drew back at nightfall to their camp outside.

There was no thought of coming to terms, although the losses were heavy and the besieging force under Cortez alone was more than 100,000 men, and his flotilla of canoes was 3000. The chief aim of the Spanish ruler was to take the market-place, and plans for a general assault were arranged, now that the blockade of the city was strictly kept. From this center it was hoped all the streets could be cleared. The large number of allies who each time the town was assaulted swarmed over the roofs of the houses and made light of all other obstructions, seemed to promise a speedy termination of the struggle. But before, in the general attack the inclosure of the town was reached, the Aztecs in canoes and on the various land approaches, which had now been partially destroyed, made an unexpected sally. There was a call to arms sounded from the apex of one of the principal temples, the ritual drum being beaten whose tones could be heard at a distance of two or three leagues. Instantly, as the Indians came rushing upon them, the Spaniards were thrown in a panic, and made a precipitate retreat. Cortez was himself in danger and would have been killed, had not his enemies made strenuous efforts to take him alive in order that he might be kept for a sacrificial offering. None of the other captains fared better; Alvarado’s men narrowly escaped destruction.

Many European prisoners were made, and from their camp the Spaniards could watch their comrades being offered up to the sanguinary deities of the Aztec religion. They were pierced with stone knives and their palpitating hearts were drawn out as they lay recumbent on the stone altars that capped the temple pyramids. At the same time the men in the camp had to listen to the threats of their foes who, close at hand, promised them the same fate as their comrades. There was no inclination at this point on the part of Cortez and his men to resume the fight; orders were given to restrict operations to the defense of the camp. But the temper of the native allies was not affected by the defeat. The Tlaxcalans especially took the lead in harassing their enemies, while the Spaniards kept to their quarters. They also suggested a plan by which the remaining supplies of food and drink might be cut off.

This gradual process of attrition had its natural effect on the powers of resistance of the Aztecs. Cuauhtemoc was forced to cover up the losses in his army by disguising the women in the city as warriors. Standing on the flat roofs of the houses they were easily taken to be male warriors, and at closer quarters the Spaniards found them to be as brave as the men. Cortez, indeed, tried to induce his opponents to see how desperate their case was. His offers of peace were rejected; when envoys were sent it was always a signal for renewed attacks on the three Spanish camps.

After consultation with his captains Cuauhtemoc resolved to die fighting with his people rather than let them become the slaves of the Spaniards. The chief food of the inhabitants now was the green vegetation growing on the lake shallows, and they drank the saline water from the same source because fresh water was no longer to be had. Numerous must have been the victims of hunger and thirst and pestilence in the Aztec quarters, and great were the losses in the continued combats with an enemy far stronger, whose own losses were being made up by uninterrupted accessions of strength, while there was the whole countryside open from which supplies kept pouring in. It is significant that the success of the Aztecs in blocking the general assault of their capital made no impression outside. So far as we know, no attempts were made to break the Spanish investing lines, nor, on the other hand, did the failure to take the town in any way stop the movement to throw off the Aztec yoke which was plainly the prime motive on the part of the natives in helping the Europeans to take Mexico.

The siege had now lasted forty-five days; it was time, therefore, to make a radical change in the primitive methods of attack hitherto followed by Cortez, methods that recall the Homeric accounts of the siege of Troy. Each day there was hot fighting in the streets or on the lake where the Aztec canoes gathered about the brigantines. At nightfall there was a general return to the camp. The new plan was to destroy all the houses in the portion of the streets where the daily fighting took place. As the horsemen charged, the space was cleared and the work of destruction began. On the exposed part by the lake the brigantines and the canoes of the allies were able to do much effective damage. The scale of the operations is indicated in one of Cortez’ letters, where he speaks of using in this kind of fighting 150,000 warriors. Under these conditions, where each day ground for the next stage of occupation of the town was secured, the great market-place was taken.

Finally the Aztecs were confined to an eighth part of their capital; there was no bread to be had; nothing but fetid water to drink; and a diminishing supply of defensive weapons. Cortez himself reports that the Aztecs stood on the housetops, covering themselves with their cloaks but without weapons. The streets and the houses were filled with dead bodies. On the 13th of August the signal for the final attack was given. Crowded together, without arrows or even stones and sticks to defend themselves, the Aztecs were mowed down by the Spanish gunfire. It was a disappointment to Cortez to have to use such extreme measures; largely, it appears from his own words, because there would be no spoil to be taken. Most of the houses had been destroyed, and the people threw their wealth into the lake before they perished.

The sufferings of the besieged made an impression even on the hardened feelings of the Spanish commander. The last fights in the city and on the lake took place amid scenes of horror; everywhere were dead bodies; on the lake they were heaped up around the combatants, and could be seen floating about as the canoes kept up the unequal conflict with the Spanish brigantines. Diaz reports that all the houses were filled with dead Indians; there was nothing green to be found; the inhabitants had even eaten the bark off the trees.

The end came when the cannon, at Cortez’ signal, began to fire on the mass of unarmed Mexicans, too weak to move, stretched out one upon the other, dying heroically, still even in their extremity, as Cortez says, “never asking for peace.” As the artillery seemed slow in carrying on the work of destruction, the brigantines with the European soldiers and the allies were brought up and ordered to fall upon the remnant of the Aztec warriors, who were either slain on the spot or cast into the water from their last place of refuge.

Cuauhtemoc fled from the city in a large war-canoe, and the Spaniards gave chase. When overtaken he first prepared to sell his life dearly, but seeing his wife and other women in the boat, rather than expose them to risk he gave himself up and was conducted to Cortez, who spoke in a friendly way and praised his valiant defense of his capital, promising at the same time that he should be allowed to rule his people as he had done before. The capture of the Aztec chieftain took place on the 13th of August, 1521, the day that Mexico fell into the hands of the Spaniards.

The losses of the Aztecs in the final battle are set down as 40,000; many chose to die by throwing themselves and their wives and children into the lake rather than surrender. At the close of the siege there followed scenes of pillage of the usual type, with no pretense at discipline. The actual treasure seized was small, and to increase the disappointment, no trace could be found of the lost gold and silver which had been abandoned during “the mournful night” of the previous year. The supposed explanation was that it had been carefully hidden. Accordingly, Cuauhtemoc and others of high rank with him who, like himself, were captives, were tortured by fire. But no revelations were made, and the amount of gold distributed to the soldiers was small, only five pesos to a horseman and less to a foot-soldier. The native allies were paid off even more cheaply; they departed for home taking with them promises of future land grants.

Cortez’ plans for reconstructing the city were put into operation immediately after the end of the siege. All the temples and great houses that survived during the street fights were removed. In order to make the conversion of the people to Christianity easier, the records of their past were obliterated. In a few years all traces of the complex Aztec society, with its divisions into nobles and priests and warriors, were lost. But at least the native population in Mexico did not meet the fate of those in the isles of the Antilles: the stock was a hardier one and the systematic working of the mines did not begin until twenty-five years after the conquest, when, owing to the propaganda of Las Casas, protective measures were enforced. Cortez introduced European grains and took care to repair the losses in the food supply produced by the devastation of the conquest.

Incapable of reconciling himself to the humdrum life of peaceful rule after his years of adventure, the commander could not endure to see his lieutenants penetrating into the unknown regions of the south, while he stayed behind receiving their reports of immeasurable treasure. In October, 1524, he set out for Honduras with a few Europeans and a large number of Indian allies. Among his companions were Cuauhtemoc, the dethroned Aztec overlord, and many of his nobles and chieftains. The march was through difficult country filled with dense woods, mountains, and morasses. The expedition suffered from the heat, and had to endure lack of water and food as well as perils from enteric fever. Cuauhtemoc and the Aztec lord of Tlacopan were charged with plotting against their new masters and were, therefore, put to death. Nothing was accomplished in this expedition, and after twenty months Cortez returned to Mexico. Soon after he was recalled to Spain to answer various charges due to his maladministration and to his uncontrolled dictatorship. He was treated with great honor and named captain-general of New Spain, but care was taken that he should no longer be intrusted with the duty of civil administration in the new province. He returned to Mexico in 1530 and again tried his fortune as a discoverer, this time undertaking, either personally or by lieutenants, expeditions to the northwest. Two fleets equipped by him were destroyed; a third was led by him into the unpromising region about the Gulf of California. In 1540, he again left Mexico to secure an indemnity from Charles V for his unsuccessful ventures. He followed the Emperor to the siege of Algiers in 1541, but was not able to secure attention to his demands. The rest of his life was passed in preparing petitions to a monarch whose treasury was being drained by other more immediate claims. He did not return to Mexico, and died on December 2, 1547, at the age of sixty-three years.