Behold a level, sun-beat, wind-swept plain, the drifting sand blown intomédanos, or sand-hills, by the hurricanes of the gulf, the perennialnorte. Here are theConquistadoresgrouped, Cortes and his associates. Among them is the figure of a woman, and her name is worthy to rank in the first verse and chapter of our story. It is Marina, the beautiful Indian girl who had been given to the Spaniards, among other female slaves, at Tabasco, in Yucatan, and who, Cortes had learned, spoke the language of the Mexicans, in addition to her nativeYucatec. So Marina was the interpreter through whose medium understanding was had with the natives. This was in conjunction with the Spaniard Aguilar—the rescued castaway, who spoke the language of Marina. But this was only at first, for as Cortes loved her and she loved him, she soon acquired the Castilian of theConquistadoras his mistress.
Thus was parley opened with the natives and their caciques, and knowledge gained of Montezuma, the great Emperor of the Aztecs, and of the power and circumstances of their empire, whose rule extended to the coast whereon they stood. Cortes and his captains made presents to the caciques, and received such in return, and it was decided to establish the colony of Villa Rica de Vera Cruz. A pretty piece of juggling—singular yet not unjustifiable—took place in the inauguration of this, Cortes establishing his captains as its municipality, resigning the commission he had received from the Governor of Cuba into the hands of the body he had called into being himself, and then accepting from it a commission as captain-general, all taking title as officials of the Crown of Spain! This proceeding, solemnly carried out on the edge of the wilderness, and in sound of the roaring waters of the Gulf, is not without aGilbertianspice.
Rude habitations had been built, guns mounted, and supplies secured from the Indian population which flocked around the Spaniards. And suddenly a new sensation was sprung upon these simple people. The horses were brought on shore, and the cavalry manoeuvred upon the beach; cannons were fired and trumpets sounded, the shot from the guns, purposely directed against the trees, smashing them to splinters. Filled with awe the Aztec chief of the place—the friendly cacique Teuhtile—bade his picture-writers depict it all; and upon the native paper these terrible gachupines[14]and their great "water-houses," and thundering engines, and singular musical instruments, were drawn in lifelike formby these native "newspaper artists," to be despatched by the native postmen over the rocky fastnesses of the Cordilleras to the great Montezuma. Then Cortes announced his mission. He was the ambassador of a mighty Emperor from beyond the seas, come to greet the Emperor of the Aztecs and to carry a present from his monarch, the mightiest in the world. When could he be admitted before Montezuma? The awe in which this potentate was held by his vassals was shown in Teuhtile's reply: "Was it possible that a monarch, the equal of the Aztec king, existed elsewhere? How could the white men ask, at such short notice, to be admitted to the semi-sacred presence?" But he brought forward presents of beautiful feather-work and ornaments of gold for the Spaniards; and Cortes, not to be outdone, produced a richly-carved chair and other things admired by the simple natives, including articles of cut glass, which were held to be gems of great price, as of course the Aztecs had no knowledge of glass. All these matters were carried out with due ceremony, messengers with the presents were sent to Montezuma, and the Spaniards, pending the return of the emissaries of Teuhtile with their greeting, devoted themselves to the perfecting of their dwellings.
14 The Aztec word for centaurs, which was applied to the horsemen.
Little more than a week elapsed. In that time the swift native carriers had traversed and re-traversed the steep and rugged road from the coast to the valley of Anahuac, a distance of about two hundred miles each way. The substance of their message from Montezuma was "Come not hither; the road is long and dangerous; return to your country with our greetings to your great King." A magnificent present accompanied this somewhat chilling reply—articles of gold and silver, beautifully wrought, among them a huge gold plate, and one of silver, circular in form and "as large as carriage-wheels," twenty-eight spans in circumference, representing respectively the images of the sun and the moon and engraved with figures of animals, doubtless indicative of some chronological symbol—the value of thegold wheel was afterwards estimated at more than £50,000—other articles of clothing and armour, including a number of beautiful golden shields inlaid and decorated, necklaces of rubies and pearls, and a quantity of the intricate and beautiful feather-work.
What was the result of all this, upon the Spaniards—this wealth of treasure and this unencouraging greeting? "Go back again," was the substance of Cortes's reply to the ambassadors of Montezuma; "tell your monarch the mountain road and its dangers do not appal us—we who have sailed two thousand leagues of troubled ocean to arrive here—and we cannot return to our great sovereign without having personally greeted yours." Again the Spaniards waited the messengers' return, weary of the wind- and sand-swept plains of Vera Cruz; assailed by thecalenturasever encountered upon the American coasts, the bilious malarial disorders which Nature has made the scourge of the tropics, and which the science of modern man has only just begun to investigate. Again the messengers—within ten days—returned. Stripped of its diplomatic covering of ceremony and further presents, the Aztec Emperor's reply may be condensed as "Get thee hence!" And, as if to bear out some royal mandate, the natives disappeared from the vicinity, the supplies were cut off, leaving the Spaniards halting upon this debatable ground, in chagrin and indecision.
But not for long. The stern design of the Spaniards had been forced, and was growing. "I vowed to your Royal Highness that I would have Montezuma prisoner, or dead, or subject to your Majesty," wrote Cortes to Carlos V. of Spain, from Vera Cruz; and "Think you we were such Spaniards as to lie there idly?" wrote Bernal Diaz, the soldier-penman, afterwards. Yet there was some disaffection in the camp, a portion of the men, wearied of inaction and fearful of dangers, desiring to return to Cuba. Here Cortes's diplomacy came to the rescue. "On board, all of you!" he exclaimed. "Back to Cuba and its Governor, and see what happens!" Thethreat and sneer had the effect he expected. Scarcely a man would return, but on the contrary they clamoured for the establishment of a colony and for a march on Montezuma and his capital, whilst the few who remained disaffected were clapped in irons, among them thehidalgoVelasquez, a relative of the Governor of Cuba.
And now it was that the key to the situation was put into the hands of Cortes. An embassy from a semi-civilised, powerful nation to the north, upon the gulf-shores—the Totonacs, of Cempoalla, as they announced themselves—suddenly arrived in the colony of the Christians. They brought an invitation from their chief for the Spaniards to visit him, with the information—and here was the circumstance which should make conquest possible—that the Totonacs were weary of the Aztec yoke, and yearned for independence. "Ha!" thought Cortes and hishidalgoassociates, "they are delivered into our hands! They are divided, and so they will fall." Father Olmedo, the wise and pious confessor of the forces, to whose prudence the security of the Spaniards owed much, and who was the representative of the great Church which became so potent in those lands, blessed his comrades' conclaves, and celebrated solemn Masses. Indeed, every move of the Spaniards was accomplished under such auspices, and was always referred by Cortes to the influence of the desire to carry the Cross of Christ and all it embodied, to those heathen peoples; and in a spirited address to the soldiers he declared that "without this motive their expedition was but one of oppression and robbery." The true proportions of piety and hypocrisy contained in these expressions and acts must be left to the knowledge of human nature of the reader. Suffice to say that the Spaniards did, to a large extent, look upon themselves as Crusaders, and that a militant religious fervour animated them, in conjunction with a spirit of avarice and cruelty.
And so they marched on Cempoalla, along the sandy shores of the gulf, passing through villages, with templesdevoted to the abominable sacrificial rites which they had seen in Yucatan. Thence they encountered the fringe of the tropical forests, and at length entered the strange town of Cempoalla, with its numerous inhabitants, and streets, and houses, and excellent surrounding cultivation. Here they remained some days, the Spaniards delighted with the fertile region and the hospitable natives. The great Cacique had received them in his residence—a building of stone upon a pyramid, after the fashion of the structures of that country, and, the fair Marina interpreting, Cortes stated his mission—"to redress abuses and punish oppressors, and to establish the true faith." The substance of the chief's reply was that, though weary of the oppressive yoke of the Aztecs: Montezuma was a terrible monarch, who could pour down his warriors upon them. But Cortes gathered encouragement from his attitude, and in the meantime a juncture had been effected with the ships upon the coast a few leagues distant, at a port discovered by Montejo. Further deliberations took place during the ensuing days, when a momentous event occurred in the arrival of special emissaries from Montezuma to the Cacique, setting forth the anger of the Emperor, and demanding instant reparation and tribute for the disloyalty of the Totonacs in having entertained the invaders. The fearful and hesitating Totonacs—it was but natural—would have appeased their anger; but under the instigation of Cortes these Aztec tax-collectors were seized and imprisoned. Characteristic of the Spaniard of those days was the act of double-dealing then performed by Cortes. He secretly released the prisoners at night, soothed their feelings, sent them on board a ship, and bid them report his goodwill to Montezuma!
The Totonacs were now too deeply compromised to do aught but become the sworn allies of the Spaniards. The cherished dream of the return of Quetzalcoatl had not been fulfilled, but here were these valiant strangers, who had defied the omnipotent Montezuma! The Spaniardsthen established a colony upon the coast near at hand, aided by the natives, and a town soon arose which was a centre of operations and general point of distribution for the subsequent operations. Engaged upon the work was Cortes, when new emissaries arrived from the outraged Montezuma. The Totonacs were only to be spared out of deference for the white men who had liberated the tax-collectors! Montezuma was debating much within himself and with his advisers at this time. "Surely these terrible white strangers, who had come out of the East, were the long-expected Quetzalcoatl and his people? It was necessary to placate or temporise with them, for what destiny had written concerning the passing of his empire must come to pass." So had pondered the great Aztec chief, and it was this fear of destiny which had dictated his attitude, vacillating as it was, towards the strangers. But the emissaries returned to the lord of Anahuac with the same message as before—that the white men would visit him in person.
Presents of wives—the soft, pretty Indian damsels, daughters of the principal chiefs—were made to Cortes and his officers by the Cacique, in gratitude for assistance against a neighbouring tribe, which the Spaniards rendered. They must, however, be baptized first, said Cortes, and the opportunity was taken to enforce the Christian religion upon their allies. Protests and menace followed, but the idols of Cempoalla were torn from their pyramid sanctuaries and hurled to the ground; the foul sacrificial altars cleansed; the image of the Virgin installed there; and a solemn Mass celebrated by Father Olmedo.
Other stirring events crowded rapidly on. A swift ship was despatched to Spain with the wheel of gold; the beautiful feather-work, and the other rare presents of the Aztecs, all given over by the Spaniards as a royal gift to the young Spanish king; together with a voluminous epistle. This was sent with the design of forestalling the machinations of Velasquez; and though the vessel touched at Cuba, it escaped detention, and safelyarrived in Spain. But meantime disaffection arose in the new colony, and a conspiracy was formed to seize a vessel and escape to Cuba, by some of the Spaniards who were discontented and fearful of the future. The plot was discovered and the authors seized and executed, and a dramatic sequel to this conspiracy came about. Cortes and some of his advisers resolved to prevent the recurrence of any further danger of this nature; to put it out of the power of any to desert; to place the knowledge of the inevitable before his troops, that the conquest must be undertaken or death found in the attempt. He sank his ships! Yes; the brigantines which had borne them thither, and were their only means of retreat from those savage shores, were dismantled and destroyed.
And now the Spaniards resolutely turn their faces to the mountains. Threats and entreaties are stilled; the colony is established, the base secured, the ships are sunk, save that single white-winged caravel far over the waters of the gulf, prow to the shores of Spain. The Mass is said, the books are closed. "Forward! my comrades," said Cortes; "before us lies a mountain road; and adventure, gold, and glory!"
The traveller of to-day, as he traverses by rail the desert coast zone of the Mexican littoral, and ascends the steep slopes of the eastern Cordillera of the Sierra Madre, to gain access to the Great Plateau or Valley of Mexico beyond it, reposing amid the cushions of his Pullman car, will neither endure the fatigue which theConquistadoressuffered nor be assailed, night and day, with the menace of savage foes on every hand. But the grand and varied setting still remains: the strange and beautiful fairyland of Nature's rapid transformation scenes, the changing landscape and successive climates of this remarkable region. The sandy wastes give place to tropical forests and fertile valleys, with their bright accompaniment of profuse flower- and bird-life. These, in turn, disappear from the changing panorama, and the traveller reaches the appalling escarpments of the Mexican Andes, looking down from time to time fromdizzy ridges, where the ascending steel lines of the railroad spiral has brought him, to where distant fertile vales lie in the glimmering haze, thousands of feet below. And then the scene changes, and the dark rocky ribs and bleak plateau show that the summit is reached, ten thousand feet above the level of the ocean's ebb and flow.
But what we shall have accomplished in a day the wearyConquistadoreshave spent many marches in overcoming. Cortes and his men are halting at the end of a broad valley. What is the cause of the delay? An extraordinary fortification confronts them; a wall, twice as high as a man, made of stone blocks, and of enormous thickness, absolutely closes the passage of the valley, and extends for several miles on either hand to where it abuts upon the rocky ramparts of the Sierra itself. Was this some enchanted castle raised up by magician hand? Certainly not; it was the outer defence of the land of the Tlascalans; the bulwark of the brave and independent mountain republic, which had ever defied the power of the Aztecs.
To reach this point the Spaniards had toiled on day after day, sleeping at night upon their arms. From the tropical lands and climate of thetierra calientethey had reached the frowning fastnesses of the great mountains and lofty peaks, which overhang the crest of the eastern slope of the tableland of Mexico. The rainy season was upon them, and the trails were wet and heavy, and the atmosphere and humour of the tropic lands had been debilitating, as indeed they are to the European of today. The brusque change of climate from heat to cold tried them sorely, although the latter was the more invigorating. Day by day a huge coffin-shaped mountain had overhung the horizon—the Cofre de Perote, an extinct volcano, in whose vicinity the desolating action of old lava-flows startles the traveller's eye. As they reached the summit of the range—the crests of the Eastern Sierra Madre—the rain and snow and bitter winds, the functions of Nature which she ever lets looseupon the head of the traveller who defies her in such inclement regions, assailed the Spaniards, and some of the unfortunate Indians, natives of the tropic lands of the coast, succumbed to the cold. On, on they toiled up this untrodden way—untrodden, that is, by the foot of civilised man before that day, and at length, having crossed the summit, thedivortia aquarumof the continent, they began the descent towards the mild climate of the Valley of Mexico.
Upon the confines of this valley was a town surrounded by extensive cultivated fields ofmaiz. Stone buildings, numerousteocallis, and a large population attested the importance of the place; and when the Spaniards asked if it was tributary to Montezuma the chief replied with another question, asking with surprise if there existed any other lord worthy of tribute. Another chief and tribe some miles beyond, gave a good reception to the Spaniards, and there they gladly halted for some days. The house of the chief was upon a hill, "protected by a better fort than can be found in half Spain," wrote Cortes to his Emperor at Castile. Here it was that the Spaniards received news of the existence of the people of Cholula and Tlascala, who inhabited the regions of their intended line of march. "Go by the road of the Tlascalans," the friendly chief advised; "the Cholulans are a treacherous people." Cortes despatched messengers to the chief of Tlascala, but no reply was received, and after waiting some days the Spaniards continued their march, to where we left them halting before the stone wall across the valley.
And then began the most stirring events of their march. The Tlascalans were a people who had developed a remarkable civilisation and social and military organisation, akin to that of the Aztecs. On the arrival of the messengers of Cortes much dissension had prevailed in their councils, some of the chiefs—the community was ruled by a council of four—maintaining that this was an opportunity for vengeance against their hereditary enemies, the hated Aztecs and their prince,Montezuma. "Let us ally ourselves with these terrible strangers," they urged, "and march against the Mexicans." For the doings of the Spaniards had echoed through the land already, with a tale of smitten tribes and broken idols. But the wily old Xicotencatl thought otherwise. "What do we know of their purpose?" was his counsel; so it was agreed that the army of the Tlascalans and Otomies, who were in force near the frontier, under the command of the fiery young warrior—son of old Xicotencatl, and bearing the same name—should attack them. "If we fail," the old barbarian urged, "we will disavow the act of our general; if we win—"!
The stone fortification at the valley's end had been undefended, and with Cortes at their head the Spaniards entered Tlascalan territory. Skirmishing was followed by a pitched battle between the Christians and the Tlascalans, in which the firearms and lances of the Spaniards wrought terrible havoc on their antagonists. Astounded at the sight of the horses—those extraordinary beings, whether of animal or demoniacal origin they knew not—and appalled by the thundering of the guns, which seemed to have some superhuman source, the Tlascalans at first fell back. But they overcame their fears, fell savagely upon the invaders, and were with difficulty repulsed, having managed to kill two of the horses. Greatly to Cortes's regret was this, for the noble animals were few, and—more serious still—their death removed that semi-superstitious dread regarding them, which the natives held. However, the Spaniards afterwards buried them from sight.
Night fell, a season when the Indians fought not, but on the morrow the messengers which had been sent to the Tlascalans arrived—having escaped—with the news that the enemy was approaching in great force. So indeed it befel, and upon the plain in front of the Spaniards appeared a mighty host, varyingly estimated between thirty and a hundred thousand warriors. The Spaniards with their allies numbered—fearful odds!—about three thousand. "The God of the Christians willbear us through," said the brave and beautiful Marina. A frightful battle now ensued, the issue of which hung in the scale for hours. Charging, volleying, borne this way and that by the flood of the enemy's numbers, the gallant band of the Spaniards snatched victory from almost certain defeat, their superior weapons and cavalry, together with the bad tactics of the Indians, who knew not how to employ their unwieldy army to best advantage, at length decided the day for the Christians, who inflicted terrible punishment upon their foes. The Tlascalans' policy now showed signs of weakening, but further assaults were necessary, and some treachery, under the guise of friendship, having been discovered on the part of the fifty Tlascalan envoys to the Spanish camp, Cortes barbarously cut off the hands of these and sent them back to tell the tale.
The upshot of these engagements was that the Tlascalans capitulated, apologised for their conduct, invited the strangers to take possession of their capital, and assured them that they would now be allies, not enemies, of the white men, who were undoubtedly the representatives of the great and long-expected Quetzalcoatl. The joy in the Spanish camp at this turn of affairs knew no bounds; well did the Spaniards know that the continued opposition of the Indians would have been their ruin, whilst in their alliance was salvation and the key to the Conquest.
Behold the war-worn and hungry Spaniards, lean and tattered from marching and privations in the inclement uplands, now installed in comfort in the centre of the powerful Tlascalan capital. Forth had come to greet them young Xicotencatl, who, to do him justice, took upon himself the responsibility of the war; and as the Spaniards entered the capital the streets were lined with men, women, and children, and decorated with garlands of flowers as for a triumphal procession. The old chief who had urged for opposition now changed his tactics, and as Cortes entered he embraced him, passing his hand over the face of the Spaniard to see what manner of manhe was, for the aged Tlascalan was blind, having reached, it has been said—probably with exaggeration—a hundred and forty years of age! "The city is much larger than Granada," wrote Cortes to Carlos V., with a description of its markets, shops, houses, and intelligent and industrious population.
Six weeks the Spaniards sojourned there, recuperating their energies, living on the best the plentiful land afforded—Tlascala signified in the Indian tongue "the land of bread"—taking wives from among the maidens of the chiefs' daughters, and endeavouring, first with the foolish haste of Cortes and then with the slow prudence of Father Olmedo, to instil some tenets of the Christian religion into their hosts. But religious fervour had to give way to material necessities, and the Tlascalan idols remained unsmitten, although their human sacrifices were somewhat stayed.
Rested and mended, the Spaniards now set impatient gaze upon the oak- and fir-clad mountain slopes which bounded the valley. Above them loomed upward the great Malinche, snow-capped queen of the Tlascalan mountain fastnesses; and still the friendly Tlascalans, stern foes but noble allies, loaded them with every favour and bid them tarry. When, however, they would stay no longer they raised a great body of warriors to accompany them, warning Cortez against the wiles of Montezuma. "Beware of his presents and his promises; he is false and seeks your destruction," they urged, and their implacable hatred of the Aztecs showed itself in their words and mien.
Contrary to the advice of their new allies, the Spaniards decided to journey on to Mexico through Cholula, the land of the great pyramid. Embassies had arrived, both from Montezuma and from the Cholulans, the latter inviting the Spaniards to go that way; and the great Aztec monarch, swayed now by the shadow of oncoming destiny, offering the Spaniards a welcome to his capital. "Trust not the Tlascalans, those barbarous foes," was the burden of his message, "but come through friendlyCholula"—words which the Tlascalans heard with sneers and counter-advice. The purpose of the Tlascalans was not a disinterested one. An attack upon Montezuma was their desire, and preliminary to this they hoped to embroil the Spaniards with the perfidious Cholulans. Another embassy—and this was an important event—had waited upon Cortes. It was from the Ixtlilxochitl, one of the rival claimants for the throne of Texcoco, which, it will be remembered, was a powerful and advanced community in confederation with the Aztecs; and Cortes was not slow to fan the flame of disaffection which this indicated, by an encouraging message to the young prince.
A farewell was taken of the staunch Tlascalans, the invariable Mass was celebrated by Father Olmedo, and, accompanied by a large body of Tlascalan warriors, the Spaniards set out for Cholula. What befel in this beautiful and populous place—which, Bernal Diaz wrote, reminded him, from its numerous towers, of Valladolid—was of terrible and ruthless import. Cholula, with its greatteocalli, was the Mecca of Anahuac, and was veritably a land flowing with milk and honey. Well-built houses, numerousteocallis, or pyramidal temples, well-dressed people with embroidered cloaks, and numbers of censer-swinging priests formed theensemblewhich greeted the Spaniards' eyes, whilst the intense cultivation of the ground and the fields ofmaguey,maiz, and other products, irrigated by canals from the mountain streams, formed the environment of this advanced community. "Not a palm's-breadth of land that is not cultivated," wrote Cortes in his despatches to Castile, "and the city, as we approached, was more beautiful than the cities of Spain." Beautiful and gay doubtless Cholula was when the Spaniards entered; drenched with the blood of its inhabitants and devastated by fire it lay before they left it! There had been signs of treachery, even on the road thither, work of the Cholulans; but, lodged in the city, the Spaniards discovered, through the agency of the intelligent Marina, a plot to annihilatethem later. Taking the Cholulans unawares as they crowded the streets with—at the moment—harmless curiosity, the Spaniards, with cannon, musket, and sabre, mowed down the unfortunate and unprotected natives in one bloody massacre, aided by the ferocious Tlascalans, who fell upon the Cholulans from the rear. The appalling and unnecessary slaughter at Cholula has called down upon the heads of Cortes and the Spaniards the execration of historians. Some have endeavoured to excuse or palliate it, but it remains as one of the indelible stains of the SpanishConquistadoresupon the history they were making. Having accomplished this "punitive" act, an image of the Virgin was set up on the summit of the great pyramidal temple, and some order restored. "They are now your Highness's faithful vassals," wrote Cortes to the king of Spain!
After this the way seemed clear. Far on the horizon loomed the white, snow-capped cones of Popocatepetl and Ixtaccihuatl, beautiful and pure above the deserts, the canyons, and the forests beneath them—the gateway to Mexico. From the foremost, above its snow-cap, there belched forth a great column of smoke, for at that period Popocatepetl was an active volcano. Onwards the Spaniards pressed with buoyant hearts and eager feet, and when they stood upon the summit of the range their eyes beheld the beautiful valley of Mexico, the haven for which they had long toiled and fought, stretched below. There, shimmering in distance, lay the strange, unknown city of the Aztecs, like a gem upon the borders of its lakes: its towers and buildings gleaming white in the brilliant sun of the tropic upland beneath the azure firmament and brought to deceptive nearness by the clear atmosphere of that high environment. There at last was their longed-for goal, the mysterious Tenochtitlan.
The Valley of Mexico—The City and the Causeways—TheConquistadoresenter Mexico City—Meeting of Cortes and Montezuma—Greeting of the Aztec emperor to the Spaniards—Tradition of Quetzalcoatl—Splendid reception—The Teocalli—Spanish duplicity—Capture of Montezuma—Spanish gambling—News from Vera Cruz—Forced march to the coast—Cortes defeats Narvaez—Bad news from Mexico—Back to the capital—Alvarado's folly—Barbarous acts of the Spaniards—The fight on the pyramid—Destruction of Aztec idols—Death of Montezuma—Spaniards flee from the city—Frightful struggle on the Causeway—Alvarado's leap—TheNoche Triste—Battle of Otumba—Marvellous victory—Spanish recuperation—Cuitlahuac and Guatemoc—Fresh operations against the capital—Building of the brigantines—Aztec tenacity—Expedition to Cuernavaca—Xochimilco—Attack upon the city—Struggles and reverses—Sacrifice of Spaniards—Desertion of the Allies—Return of the Allies—Renewed attacks—Fortitude of the Aztecs—The famous catapult—Sufferings of the Aztecs—Final attack—Appalling slaughter—Ferocious Tlascalans—Fall of Mexico.
The Valley of Mexico is a region of somewhat remarkable topographical character. It consists of a plain or inter-montane basin, enclosed on all sides by ranges of hills, forming a hydrographic entity whose waters have no natural outlet.[15]A group of lakes occupy the central part of this valley, very much reduced, however, in size since the time of the Conquest.
15 Seep. 17.
It was the 8th of November, 1519. Across the southern end of the great Lake Texcoco stretched a singular dyke or causeway, several miles in length and a few yards in width—a road or pathway built up of stone and mortarabove the surrounding water, connecting the shores of that inland sea with an island and three other similar causeways. Upon this island arose a beautiful city with streets of strange buildings, above which rose great pyramids with sanctuaries upon their summits; and upon the bosom of the lake numerous canoes were plying, laden with men and merchandise. So rose those towers, and lived and moved the dwellers of this lake city, unknowing and unknown of European man, living their life as if no other world than theirs held sway beneath the firmament of the "unknown God." But the spell is broken. A trumpet sound is ringing through the morning air. Across the causeway comes a troop of strange men-animals—fearful things which snort and tramp, making the causeway rumble, whilst the notes of that strange music echo away among the towers and pyramids of the city, and are borne far over the waters of the lake, to smite the ears of wondering Indians.
Cortes and his Spaniards rode steadily along the causeway, their hearts beating—as well they might—with astonishment, admiration, apprehension, and all those emotions to which their unique and romantic position gave impulse. Guided by the messengers of Montezuma, the white men rode beneath a fortification in mid-causeway, where another similar structure joined it from another shore of the lake, passed the drawbridge and the city walls, and clattered up the stone-paved avenue of Tenochtitlan to where, in pomp and splendour, surrounded by his lords and vassals, the great Aztec chief awaited them, in a royal litter gleaming with polished gold.
Cortes and his men dropped foot to earth, and Montezuma descended from his litter. The SpaniardConquistador, after the custom of his race, advanced to embrace the chief, "but," wrote Cortes to Charles V., "the two lords in attendance prevented me with their hands that I might not touch him, and both Montezuma and they performed instead their ceremony of kissing the ground."
The meeting of these two chiefs—one the autocrat of astrange, unknown civilisation there in the heart of the mountains, the other the representative of an equally strange and unknown power from an outside world, both, to the other, undreamt of—is of dramatic memory. But the address of Montezuma was singularly dignified, prophetic, or philosophical. After the presents and greetings were exchanged, and the monarch and the invader sate at their ease, he spake in this wise: "You who have come from the direction of the sunrise, from a great lord of some far regions, shall not lack power here to command, for well we know as to our ancestry that we are not of the aborigines of this land where we now dwell, but of that of a great lord—which must be that you represent—who brought us here in ages past, departed, and promised to return. Rest here, therefore, and rejoice; take what you will, my house is yours; but believe not the slanders of my enemies through whose countries you have journeyed."
So strong was the remarkable tradition of Quetzalcoatl, that it had held this powerful chief and his warlike people in check before the invasion of a band of adventurers from abroad. A word of command from him, and the Spaniards, with all their advantages of firearms and horses, could never have passed the causeway or set foot within that impregnable city of Tenochtitlan—that fatal causeway, as indeed it afterwards became.
Barbaric splendour, blended with the arts and industries of a civilised and practical people, formed the environment of this long-striven-for goal, where the men of Spain now lay at ease. A great pile of low stone buildings gave them commodious quarters. Rich gifts of gold and clothing, and ample food supplies, were given and provided for the white men; and their hearts, whether of the high-mettled and scornful cavaliers, or of the rude boors who formed the common soldiery, were won by the gentle courtesy and the generosity of Montezuma and the respect of the Aztecs who obeyed him. Even the savage and hated Tlascalan allies were lodged and provided for—their detested presence tolerated fromconsideration for the Spaniards. Here was an unhoped-for and magnificent reception. Here was a way and a time where the civilisation and religion of the Christian world might have been implanted—it would seem—by the philosophy of natural methods, by forbearance, example, and sagacity. So, at least, have thought some of the old chroniclers—so the student of to-day cannot but think.
But it was not to be so. The heart of the thinker bleeds to-day for the things of history which might have been; and the story of Montezuma is strong to give us philosophical regret. Some six days elapsed in this peaceful occupation of the city. Cortes and his Spaniards admired the huge market-place, where products from all quarters of the country were brought together: food, clothing, weapons, manufactured articles of rich material and colour, objects of gold, and a wealth of flowers which the inhabitants loved, stone buildings which lined the streets, the canals and streets which gave access thereto, and, in brief, the whole detail and substance of that remarkable centre of a semi-civilisation which the Spaniards commonly pronounced the equal of anything in their own native land. In company with Montezuma Cortes ascended the greatteocalli, or pyramidal temple, and he and his companion, from this high point, beheld with amazement the panorama of the city below—with the lakes, the causeways giving access to the mainland, the towns on the farther side, and the intense cultivation of the valley. "Only the murmur of the people below reached our ears, as we gazed upon this panorama," wrote Bernal Diaz, who was there. To the chiefs who had been ordered to carry Cortes up the fatiguing stairway-ascent of the pyramid, and to the polite inquiries of Montezuma, theConquistadorreplied, "that a Spaniard was never weary!" "But this abode of the devil," he said, with less politic words, which somewhat offended Montezuma—indicating the blood-stained sanctuary of the summit where they stood—"should rather be the home of the Cross"; and, indeed, the abominable place might well arouse the indignation of a Christian man:even one of that race and religion which later, in the same place, burned its own brethren at the stake for the good of their souls!
A few days wrought a change. Montezuma became a prisoner in the Spanish camp! In the heart of his own city, surrounded by his powerful chiefs and armies, the Aztec languished in vile, if seemingly voluntary, durance; and, an instrument in the invaders' hands, he governed his realm from their quarters. How was this astonishing transformation brought about? Cortes and his companions were in a singular position. Living in friendly harmony with their powerful host, shielded by his strange, superstitious reverence for a tradition, they yet could not but fear some change of circumstance which might, at any moment, plunge them into insecurity or threaten them with destruction. Moreover, Cortes knew not in what condition he stood with the dreaded powers of Castile. What favour or disfavour had he incurred in Spain for his irregular proceedings?—adverse representation of which, he well knew, would have been made by Velasquez and others, jealous of the conquest. Also—and this was a more poignant consideration than any other—Mexico was not conquered; it was only discovered. Action was necessary—to go or stay. "Listen," said Cortes to his captains, as they held solemn conclave. "This is my plan. We will seize and hold Montezuma. What say you?" It was done. For a pretext for this unworthy act the murder of two Spaniards upon an expedition at Vera Cruz was assigned. Visiting Montezuma's residence under pretence of asking redress for this—which was fully granted by the Aztec king, with absolute proofs of his non-participation in the occurrence—the Spaniards demanded that he should accompany them to their camp and take up his residence there.
This remarkable request was acceded to by the weak Montezuma—let us not say weak, but rather fatalist—and, accompanied by his weeping vassals, he allowed himself to be conducted to the stone fortress which had beenassigned to the Spaniards as their habitation. The circumstance is perhaps unique in history.
And then the barbarous abuse of power, so strong a trait in the Spanish character, was exercised by Cortes and his captains. The chiefs who had been responsible for the killing of the two Spaniards arrived in the capital in accordance with Montezuma's summons. The Spaniards seized them, bound them to stakes in the courtyard, and burned them alive, an abominable act and stain upon their name, for which they paid dearly afterwards. Montezuma had been put in chains, the prisoners having confessed, although falsely, it is held, that they had acted in accordance with the Emperor's instructions. Afterwards Montezuma's shackles were taken off, but the indignity remained, although the Spaniards treated him well and endeavoured to render his captivity light, not so much out of regard for him, as that the safe keeping of his person was a valuable hostage for them.
The days went on in the Spanish camp. There was gaming with the huge treasure which, after his captivity, Montezuma gave the Spaniards; a treasure of which the gold, in three great heaps upon the floor of the habitation, was of value so prodigious as to dazzle even them, and of which a fifth was set apart for the Spanish king. Not content with these matters, or, rather, urged by their religious fervour, the Spaniards obtained permission to erect an altar and crucifix in one of the sanctuaries of the greatteocalli. There Father Olmedo celebrated Mass, and theTe Deumwas chanted by the soldiers, side by side with the sacrificial stone; the abominable war-god's image, and all the attendant machinery of its savage priestcraft.
But a time of change looms up. Six months have elapsed since the Spaniards entered the city. The unnatural condition of these things bears its fruit. The Aztec king has sounded the knell of his own authority and prestige, and the Spaniards' religious work has incurred the hatred of the seething multitude, scarcely held in check by the commands of Montezuma. Cortes and most ofhis captains at this critical time are called to Vera Cruz by Sandoval, the captain in charge; and go they must, for life or death. For hostile ships, sent by the jealous Velasquez and commanded by one Narvaez, menace the base of operations on the coast. Leaving Alvarado in charge of Montezuma and Spanish prestige in Tenochtitlan, Cortes by forced marches gained the coast, journeying with great speed, and under grave apprehension.
Fortune on this occasion favoured theConquistadorin a remarkable way. With only a third of his small force—140 men had remained in the capital—Cortes, under cover of a fearful storm at night, attacked Narvaez and the Spaniards of his command, routing them and taking the leader prisoner. The defeated soldiers soon enrolled themselves under Cortes's successful banner, stimulated by tales of gold and glory in the interior. But whilst theConquistadoreswere resting and congratulating themselves upon the addition of men, horses, and ammunition to their forces, grave tidings came from Mexico. The Indians of Tenochtitlan had arisen, assaulted the fortifications of the Spaniards on all sides, and unless Cortes desired to see all his work undone, his people massacred, and his hard-won prestige ruined, he must make his way as fast as God would let him again to the city on the lakes of Anahuac.
Up, up they went once more. Up through the tropical forests and among the appalling escarpments of the Sierra. Again they descended the valley slopes, approached the lakes—round which an ominous abandonment prevailed—and crossing the long causeway, entered the Spanish camp. The fault of the insurrection, Cortes learned now, lay with the commander in charge—the foolish and cruel Alvarado, whose barbarous acts on other occasions had needlessly embroiled the Spaniards with the natives. A great celebration and religious festival was being held—Cortes learned—and whilst the Aztec nobles and people were occupied, unsuspecting any hostile act of their guests, Alvarado and theSpaniards, armed to the teeth, had mingled with the crowd with their purpose all planned, fallen upon the unarmed worshippers, and perpetrated a frightful massacre—"without pity or Christian mercy, so that the gutters ran with blood as in a rain-storm," say the chroniclers.
The result of this barbarous act was a vengeance and punishment which cost theConquistadoresdear, and stripped them in a few days of all they had won. For the maddened people, roused by sorrow and hate, and urged on by the priests, assailed the Spanish dwelling with frenzied attack. A rain of darts and missiles descended day after day upon the quarters of the Christians, so numerous that they had to be gathered in heaps and burnt in the courtyard. The main point of attack by the Mexicans was the greatteocalliof the war-god, which overlooked the Spaniards' quarters, and so fierce was the hail of arrows and stones from this that a sortie was made. Cortes, with Sandoval and Alvarado, and a number of the Spaniards, led a gallant attack on the pyramid, fought their way up its precipitous steps and terraces, and after a frightful hand-to-hand struggle on its giddy summit, forced the Aztecs and their priests over the edge, and rolled the infernal idol of Huitzilopotchli, the war-god, down among the people in the streets below.
Impressed as they were by the destruction of their temple and god—an event which was rapidly circulated about the country by hieroglyphical paintings—the Aztecs abated nothing of their attack and siege of the hated white men. All superstitious fear had gone, and the true character of these people the Spaniards had now to learn. Day after day the barbarians came on. Sortie after sortie, sometimes with success, sometimes with severe loss, was made by the Christians, Cortes more than once barely escaping with his life, while numerous Spaniards and horses fell. The labyrinth of streets and cross-canals and bridges much hampered the Spaniards' movements, and houses and walls were torn down to fill these fatal ditches. Distress and famine fell upon the garrison, mutiny arose,and some of the Spaniards cursed themselves and their leader as fools for having left their comfortable homes in Cuba to embark on this mad enterprise, whose termination seemed as if it might be—as indeed it was for many of them—the sacrificial stone of the heathen god.
But Cortes, intrepid and serene in the face of disaster, called them to order. The unfortunate Montezuma, who, buried in a profound melancholy, took no part in the struggle, was urged to address his frenzied people from the tower of the fortification. He consented, and the Aztec warriors without the walls gazed with astonishment on their captured chief, and heard with still greater amazement his commands that strife against the white man should cease. But the power of his name and presence was gone; howls and execration arose from the mob; a stone from a sling struck Montezuma upon the forehead, and he sank back into the arms of the Spaniards and was borne to his quarters. For a space, the mob, horror-struck at its sacrilegious act, fled from the place, and not a man was seen within the square that day. Montezuma, sorely stricken, declined rapidly, and refusing the attentions of Father Olmedo, who knelt at his bedside with uplifted crucifix, sank to his end. "Half an hour of life alone remains me; at least I will die in the faith of my forefathers," he said, adding in expiring tones to Cortes, his last words: "To your care and your Emperor's I commend my daughters, my precious jewels. You, for whose sake I have been brought to indignity and death, will not refuse me this last request." So perished the noble Montezuma.[16]
16 It is stated by some historians that the death of Montezuma was really brought about by Cortes and the Spaniards, who, considering the unfortunate monarch an incumbrance, killed him in captivity; and there are grounds for suspecting that this is true.
The bridges broken, the savages screaming outside the walls, hope of victory gone, there was now no counsel of war for the Spaniards save that of escape. But how? At night and along the great causeway was the only plan. A weird scene it was on the beginning of thatNoche Triste—the sorrowful night—which stands forth so unforgetably in the history of the Conquest. Disorder everywhere; piles of gold and valuables upon the floor, each Spaniard, whether cavalier or boor, loading himself with what he thought he could carry. "Pocket what you can," Cortes said, "but recollect that gold is heavy and we have to travel swiftly"—grave advice, the neglect of which cost some their lives upon that awful night.
And then began the retreat along the fatal causeway. It was known that there were three openings in this, and a portable bridge had been made and was borne along to enable passage to be effected. Hurrying on in the hope of passing the breaches before alarm might be given, the Spaniards entered upon the causeway and placed their portable bridge upon the first breach. Was safety to be theirs? No! What was that appalling sound, sonorous and melancholy, which rang over the city and the waters amid the darkness? It was the great drum on theteocalli; thetamborof the war-god, sounded by vigilant priests, calling the people to vengeance and battle. And in their myriads the Aztecs poured forth and fell upon the Christians, raining darts and stones upon them, and making the night hideous with their war-cries. Meanwhile Cortes and the advance guard had passed over, and reached the second breach. "Bring up the bridge!" was, the repeated order, as those behind crowded on. Useless; the bridge was stuck fast in the first breach, wedged down by the weight of guns and horses which had passed over it, and as these dread tidings were heard the mass of men upon the narrow causeway lost their presence of mind. Those behind crowded on those in front; men and horses rolled into the lake; Spaniards and Tlascalans fell victims to the Aztecs, who crowded the water in their canoes and leapt upon the causeway; the shouts of vengeance and triumph of the savages resounded all along the dyke, silencing the muttered oath or prayer of the Christians huddled at the breach. Down went horse and man, artillery and treasure, until with the bodies of Christiansand Indians and horses, and bales of merchandise and chests of ammunition the breach was almost filled, and a portion of the fugitives passed over. And now the third breach yawns before them—deep and wide. The morning is dawning upon the fatal scene; the salt waters of the lake have closed over many a gallant Christian head; the frightful causeway is strewn with wreck of man and merchandise. "The rear guard perishes!" and "back and save them!" were the words which rang out then; and Cortes and his remaining cavaliers, who were in the lead, rode back, even in that frightful hour—be it recorded to their honour—and, swimming the breach once more, strove to support their comrades. There stood Alvarado unhorsed and battling, with the savages pressing upon his rear. Escape there seemed none. Canoes and spears teemed on every side, and Cortes and his companions were forced onward. The heroic figure of Alvarado stood up against the grey sky alone—a moment—and then he measured the breach with his eye, whilst—