THE VOYAGE TO MEXICO.
The voyage.--They reach the island of Cozumel.--Treasures seized.--The
island and its inhabitants.--Exploring parties to the main land.--
Missionary labors.--The first mass.--Miraculous conversions.--Return
of the exploring party.--Arrival of Aguilar.--History of Aguilar's
life at Yucatan.--Escape and capture.--Guerrero takes to savage
life.--Escape.--Guerrero remains with the savages.--Squadron again
sails.--They enter the Tabasco.--They ascend the river.--Landing
postponed.--Encampment.--Preparation for the conflict.--The reception.
--The battle.--The charge.--Victory.--March to Tabasco.--Possession
taken of the town.--Gathering of the natives.--The two armies
meet.--The conflict.--The cavalry charge.--Terror of the natives.--The
fight.--Estimates of the number killed.--The declaration.--The natives
submissive.--The new religion.--St. Mary of Victory.--Motives which
actuated the adventurers.--Christian instruction.--Principle and
practice.--The altar.--Devotions.--Baptism.--The presents.--Marina.
--Indulgences.--Character of Marina.--Her career.--Her devotion to
Cortez.--Departure from Tabasco.--Blessings left behind.--They coast
along the shore.--Arrival at San Juan de Ulua.
Light and variable winds retarded the progress of the squadron as it
was headed in a southwesterly direction toward the shores of Yucatan.
A terrible tempest succeeded, and the ships were driven wildly before
the storm. But after the lapse of about a week, as the storm abated,
they were cheered by the sight of land. The mountains of the island of
Cozumel rose towering before them. This large island is separated from
the main land of Yucatan by a channel of from twelve to thirty miles
in width.
When the natives saw the ships approaching, they fled from the shores
in terror. Such a fleet must have, indeed, presented to the artless
inhabitants an appalling spectacle. The squadron cast anchor in a
spacious bay, and those who first arrived were the first to land. The
captain of one of the vessels, with some of his crew, entered one of
the native temples, and, seeing the idol decorated with gold, seized
the treasure promptly as lawful prize, and also captured two or three
of the natives. Cortez was indignant at conduct so rash and impolitic.
He severely rebuked the over-zealous captain, ordered the ornaments to
be replaced, and liberated the captives and loaded them with presents.
He thus appeased the fears of the natives, and induced them to return
to their dwellings. They soon became quite reconciled to the
strangers, and opened with them a lucrative traffic. The island was
not very fertile, and was thinly inhabited; but the natives had large
and comfortable houses, built of stone cemented with mortar. There
were several spacious temples, with lofty towers, constructed of the
same durable materials. The adventurers were also exceedingly
surprised to find in the court-yard of one of the temples an idol in
the form of a massive stone cross. It was erected in honor of the god
of rain. It is, indeed, a curious question, and one which probably
will never be answered, how the natives of this new world obtained
those apparently shadowy ideas of Christianity. They certainly
performed the rite of baptism. The cross was one of their idols. They
also believed in original sin, which was to be in some way removed by
sprinkling an infant with water.
Cortez remained upon this island about a fortnight. During this time
all his energies were engrossed in accomplishing the great object of
his mission. He sent two vessels to the main land to make inquiries
about some Spaniards, who, it was reported, had been shipwrecked upon
the coast, and were still lingering in captivity. The captain in
command of this expedition was instructed to return within eight days.
Several parties were also sent in various directions to explore the
island thoroughly and ascertain its resources.
But one of the most important objects, in the estimation of Cortez, to
be accomplished, was the conversion of the natives to the Catholic
religion. He had with him several ecclesiastics--men whose sincerity
no candid man can doubt. The Indians were assembled, and urged,
through an interpreter, to abandon their idols and turn to the living
God. The simple natives understood but little of the harangue, except
the injunction to destroy their idols. At this suggestion they were
horror-stricken. They assured Cortez that were they to harm or insult
their gods, destruction in every awful form would immediately
overwhelm them.
The bold warrior wielded bold arguments. His logic was truly
military. With his mailed cavaliers he made a prompt onslaught upon
the idols, hewed them down, smashed them to pieces, and tumbled the
dishonored and mutilated fragments into the streets. He then
constructed a Christian altar, reared a cross and an image of the holy
Virgin and the holy child, and mass, with all its pomp of robes, and
chants, and incense, was for the first time performed in the temples
of Yucatan.
[Illustration: THE FIRST MASS IN THE TEMPLES OF YUCATAN.]
The natives were at first overwhelmed with grief and terror as they
gazed upon their prostrate deities. But no earthquake shook the
island; no lightning sped its angry bolt; no thunder broke down the
skies. The sun still shone tranquilly, and ocean, earth, and sky
smiled untroubled. The natives ceased to fear gods who could not
protect themselves, and without farther argument consented to exchange
their ungainly idols for the far prettier idols of the strangers. The
heart of Cortez throbbed with enthusiasm and pride as he contemplated
his great and glorious achievement--an achievement, in his view,
unparalleled by the miracles of Peter or of Paul. In one short
fortnight he had converted these islanders from the service of Satan,
and had won them to that faith which would secure their eternal
salvation. The fanatic sincerity with which this deed was accomplished
does not redeem it from the sublimity of absurdity. Faith, said these
mailed theologians, saves the soul; and these pagans have now turned
from their idols to the living God. It is true that man is saved by
faith, but it is that faith which _works by love_.
In the mean time the parties returned from the exploration of the
island, and Orday brought back his two ships from the main land. He
was unsuccessful in his attempts to find the shipwrecked Spaniards.
Cortez had now been at Cozumel a fortnight. As he was on the point of
taking his departure, a frail canoe was seen crossing the strait, with
three men in it, apparently Indians, and entirely naked. As soon as
the canoe landed, one of the men ran frantically to the Spaniards and
informed them that he was a Christian and a countryman. His name was
Aguilar.
Seven years ago, the vessel in which he was sailing from Darien to
Hispaniola foundered in a gale. The ship's company, twenty in number,
took to the boats. For thirteen days they were driven about at the
mercy of the winds and currents. Seven perished miserably from hunger
and thirst. The rest reached the barbarian shores of Yucatan. The
natives seized them as captives, guarded them carefully, but fed them
abundantly with the choicest food, and inflicted upon them no
sufferings, and required of them no toil. Their treatment was an
enigma which was soon dreadfully explained.
One day four of these captives who were in the best condition were
selected, sacrificed upon the bloody altars of the idols, and their
cooked flesh served up for a cannibal repast. The howlings of the
savages over the midnight orgies of this horrible entertainment fell
dismally upon the ears of the miserable survivors. In their despair
they succeeded in escaping, and fled to the mountain forests. Here
they wandered for a time in the endurance of awful sufferings. At
length they were again taken captive by the cacique or chief of
another province. He spared their lives, but made them menial slaves.
Their masters were merciless and exacting in the extreme. Under this
rigorous treatment all died but two--Aguilar, a priest, and Guerrero,
a sailor. The sailor, having no scruples of any kind, and being ready
to conform himself to all customs, gradually acquired the good will
of the savages. He obtained renown as a warrior; identified himself
entirely with the natives; tattooed his face; slit his ears, his lips,
and his nose, for those dangling ornaments which ever accompany a
barbarian taste, and took to him a native wife.
Aguilar, however, was a man of more cultivation and refinement. He
cherished his self-respect, and, resisting all enticements to marry an
Indian maiden, was true to the vows of celibacy which his priestly
profession imposed. Curious stories are related of the temptations to
which the natives exposed him. Weary years lingered along, presenting
no opportunity for escape. Cortez at last arrived at Cozumel. Some
Indians carried the tidings into the interior. Aguilar received this
intelligence with transport, and yet with trembling. He, however,
succeeded in reaching the coast, accompanied by two friendly natives.
He found upon the beach a stranded canoe, half buried in the sand.
Embarking in this with his two companions, they paddled themselves
across the strait, at that place twelve miles wide, to the island. The
frail boat was seen by the party of Cortez upon the surface of the
sea. As soon as Aguilar landed he dropped upon his knees, and with
streaming eyes gave thanks to God for his escape.
His companion in captivity refused to accompany him. "Brother
Aguilar," said he, after a moment's thought, "I am married. I have
three sons, and am a cacique and captain in the wars. My face is
tattooed and my ears bored. What would the Spaniards think of me
should I now go among them?" All Aguilar's entreaties for him to leave
were unavailing.
Aguilar appears to have been truly a good man. As he had acquired a
perfect acquaintance with the language of the natives, and with their
manners and customs, Cortez received him as a heaven-sent acquisition
to his enterprise.
On the 4th of March the squadron again set sail, and, crossing the
narrow strait, approached the shores of the continent. Sailing
directly north some hundred miles, hugging the coast of Yucatan,
Cortez doubled Cape Catoche, and turning his prow to the west, boldly
pressed forward into those unknown waters which seemed to extend
interminably before him. The shores were densely covered with the
luxuriant foliage of the tropics, and in many a bay and on many a
headland could be discerned the thronged dwellings of the natives.
After sailing west about two hundred miles, they found the coast again
turning abruptly to the south. Following the line of the land some
three hundred miles farther, they came to the broad mouth of the River
Tabasco, which Grijalva had entered, and which Cortez was seeking. A
sand-bar at the mouth of the river prevented the heavily-loaded
vessels from passing. Cortez, therefore, cast anchor, and taking a
strong and well-armed party in the boats, ascended the shallow stream.
A forest of majestic trees, with underwood dense and impervious, lined
the banks. The naked forms of the natives were seen gliding among the
foliage, following, in rapidly-accumulating numbers, the advance of
the boats, and evincing, by tone and gesture, any thing but a friendly
spirit. At last, arriving at an opening in the forest, where a smooth
and grassy meadow extended with gradual ascent from the stream, the
boats drew near the shore, and Cortez, through his interpreter
Aguilar, asked permission to land, avowing his friendly intentions.
The prompt answer was the clash of weapons and shouts of defiance.
Upon this Cortez decided to postpone a forcible landing until the
morning, and retired to a small island in the river which was
uninhabited. He here encamped for the night, establishing a vigilant
line of sentinels to guard against surprise.
In the early dawn of the next morning the party were assembled for
prayers and for the celebration of mass. They then, with new zeal and
courage, entered their boats, and ascended the glassy, forest-fringed
stream, upon which the morning sun shone brightly. Bird-songs filled
the air, and hardly a breath of wind moved the leaves, glittering in
the brilliant sunlight, as these bronzed men of iron sinews moved
sternly on to the demoniac deeds of war. The natives, in preparation
for the conflict, had been all the night rallying their forces. The
shore was lined with their war-canoes, and the banks were covered with
Indian troops drawn up in martial array. Gorgeous plumes decorated
their persons, and the rays of the sun were reflected from their
polished weapons. As soon as the Spanish boats appeared, the vast army
of the natives raised shouts of defiance, and the ear was almost
deafened with the clangor of their trumpets and drums.
The battle soon commenced. The sky was almost darkened by the shower
of arrows thrown by those upon the land. The warriors in the canoes
fought fiercely with their javelins. The conflict was bloody, but
short. Native valor could avail but little against European discipline
and art. The spears, stones, and arrows of the natives fell almost
harmless upon the helmets and shields of the Spaniards; but the
bullets from the guns of the invaders swept like hail-stones through
the crowded ranks of the natives, unimpeded by their frail weapons of
defense. Cortez himself headed a charge which broke resistlessly into
the hostile ranks. Appalled by the terrific thunder and lightning of
the musketry, the Indians soon scattered and fled, leaving the ground
covered with their slain.
Cortez now reviewed his troops in triumph upon the shore. He found
that fourteen were wounded, but none slain. To attend to the wounded
and to rest his exhausted men, he again encamped. The bloodstained
banner of the cross, which they had so signally dishonored, floated
proudly over their intrenchments. Prayers were offered and mass
celebrated in honor of the victory achieved by Christian arms against
idolaters. The next morning the Spaniards marched unresisted to
Tabasco, the capital of the province, a large town upon the river,
but a few miles above the place where the invaders had effected a
landing. The inhabitants, men, women, and children, fled from the
place in dismay.
Cortez took possession of the town in the name of the King of Spain.
But the whole surrounding region was now aroused. The natives, in
numbers which could not be counted, gathered in the vicinity of
Tabasco, and organized their forces anew, to repel, if possible, the
terrible foe. They were assembled on the great plain of Ceutla. Cortez
had anticipated this, and was also gathering his strength for a
decisive battle. He sent to the ships for six pieces of cannon, his
whole cavalry of sixteen horses, and every available man. A few only
were left to guard the vessels. This powerful re-enforcement soon
arrived. Thus strengthened, his whole army was called together to
celebrate the solemnities of mass, and to implore the blessing of God
in extending the triumphs of the cross over the kingdom of Satan. Thus
they marched forth, with powder, and ball, and neighing steeds, to the
merciless slaughter of those brave men who were fighting for their
country and their homes.
The Spaniards now advanced to meet their foes. It was a lovely
morning, the 25th of March. The natives, in point of civilization,
raised far above the condition of savages, had large fields in a high
state of cultivation, waving with the rich vegetation of the tropics.
After a march of three or four miles through a country cultivated like
a garden, they arrived at the ground occupied by the native army. The
lines of their encampments were so extended and yet so crowded that
the Spaniards estimated their numbers at over forty thousand. To meet
them in the strife Cortez had but six hundred men. But his terrible
engines of destruction made his force more powerful than theirs. The
natives were ready for the battle. They greeted their assailants with
a war-whoop, which rose in thunder tones over the plain, and showered
upon them volleys of arrows, sling-stones, and javelins. At this first
discharge, seventy Spaniards were wounded and one was slain. The
conflict soon raged with all imaginable horrors. The natives fought
with the courage of desperation. They seemed even regardless of the
death-dealing muskets. And when the terrible cannon, with its awful
roar, opened huge gaps in their ranks, manfully they closed up, and
with new vigor pressed the onset. The odds were so fearful that for
some time it seemed quite doubtful on which side victory would rest.
Cortez, heading his cavalry, swept around the plain, and, by a
circuitous route, came unperceived upon the rear of the tumultuous
foe. The sixteen horsemen, clad in steel, urging their horses to their
utmost speed, with loud shouts and sabres gleaming in the air, plunged
into the midst of the throng. Their keen-edged swords fell on the
right hand and on the left upon the almost naked bodies of the
natives. At the same moment, the energies of musketry and artillery
were plied with murderous carnage.
[Illustration: FIRST CAVALRY CHARGE HEADED BY CORTEZ.]
The natives had never seen a horse before. They thought the rider and
the steed one animal. As these terrific monsters, half human, half
beast, came bounding into their midst, cutting down and trampling
beneath iron hoofs all who stood in the way, while at the same time
the appalling roar of the cannonade seemed to shake the very hills,
the scene became too awful for mortal courage to endure. The whole
mighty mass, in uncontrollable dismay, fled from the presence of foes
of such demoniac aspect and energy. The slaughter of these poor
Indians was so awful that some of the Spaniards extravagantly
estimated the number left dead upon the field at thirty thousand.
Though many of the Spaniards were wounded, but two were killed.
Cortez immediately assembled his army under a grove upon the field of
battle to give thanks to God for the victory. The pomp and pageantry
of war gave place to the pomp and pageantry of the Church. Canonical
robes and banners fluttered in the breeze, processions marched, the
smoke of incense floated in the air, and mass, with all its imposing
solemnities, was celebrated in the midst of prayers and thanksgivings.
"Then," says Diaz, "after dressing our wounds with the fat of
Indians whom we found dead thereabout, and having placed good
guards round our post, we ate our supper and went to our
repose."
Under the placable influence of these devotions, the conqueror sent
word to the vanquished that he would now _forgive them_ if they would
submit unconditionally to his authority. But he declared that if they
refused this, he would ride over the land, and put every thing in it,
man, woman, and child, to the sword.
The spirit of resistance was utterly crushed. The natives immediately
sent a delegation to him laden with presents. To impress these
embassadors still more deeply with a sense of his power, he exhibited
before them the martial evolutions of his cavalry, and showed them the
effects of his artillery as the balls were sped crashing through the
trees of the forest. The natives were now effectually conquered, and
looked upon the Spaniards as beings of supernatural powers, wielding
the terrors of thunder and lightning, and whom no mortal energies
could resist.
They had become as little children. This Cortez thought a very
suitable frame of mind to secure their conversion. He recommended that
they should cast down their idols, and accept instead the gods of
papal Rome. The recommendation of Cortez was potent over the now
pliant natives. They made no opposition while the soldiers, whose
hands were hardly yet washed of the blood of their relatives, hewed
down their images. With very imposing ceremonies, the religion of the
conquerors was instituted in the temples of Yucatan, and, in honor of
the Virgin Mary, the name of Tabasco was changed into St. Mary of
Victory.
In all this tremendous crime there was apparently no hypocrisy. Human
motives will seldom bear rigid scrutiny. Man's best deeds are tainted.
Cortez was very sincere in his desire to overthrow the abominable
system of idolatry prevailing among the natives. He perhaps truly
thought that these violent measures were necessary to accomplish this
object, and that Christianity, thus introduced, would prove an
inestimable blessing. We may abhor his conduct, while we can still
make generous allowances for the darkness of his mind and of the age
in which he lived. It requires infinite wisdom to adjust the balance
of human deeds.
Two of the Catholic ecclesiastics, Olmedo and Diaz, were probably
unaffected Christians, truly desiring the spiritual renovation of the
Indians. They felt deeply the worth of the soul, and did all they
could rightly to instruct these unhappy and deeply-wronged natives.
They sincerely pitied their sufferings, but deemed it wise that the
right eye should be plucked out, and that the right arm should be cut
off, rather than that the soul should perish. It is a consoling
thought, that "like as a father pitieth his children, so the Lord
pitieth them that fear Him; for he knoweth our frame, he remembereth
that we are dust." The natives were assembled in their temples; they
came together in immense multitudes. The priests, through their
interpreter, Aguilar, endeavored to instruct them in the pure
doctrines and the sublime mysteries of Christianity. If the natives
perceived a marked difference between these precepts and the awful
carnage on the field of Ceutla, it was not the first time that
principles and practice have been found discordant.
A grand religious ceremony was instituted to commemorate the
conversion of the nation. The whole army took a part in the
solemnities of the occasion, with all the martial and ecclesiastical
pomp which their situation could furnish. The natives in countless
multitudes joined the procession, and gazed with astonishment upon the
scene. Advancing to the principal pyramidal temple of Tabasco, which
was an enormous structure, with a vast area upon its summit, they
wound around its sides in the ascent. Upon this lofty platform,
beneath the unclouded sun, with thousands of Indians crowding the
region around to witness the strange spectacle, a Christian altar was
reared, the images of the Savior and of the Virgin were erected, and
mass was celebrated. Clouds of incense rose into the still air, and
the rich voices of the Spanish soldiers swelled the solemn chant. It
must have been an impressive scene. There must have been some there
into whose eye the tear of devotion gushed. If there were in that
throng--all of whom have long since gone to judgment--one single
broken and contrite heart, that was an offering which God could
accept. Father Olmedo preached upon the occasion "many good things
touching our holy faith." Twenty Indian girls who had been given to
the Spanish captains for wives were baptized.
Cortez having thus, in the course of a week, annexed the whole of
these new provinces of unknown extent to Spain, and having converted
the natives to Christianity, prepared for his departure. The natives,
among their propitiatory offerings, had presented to Cortez, as we
have mentioned, twenty young and beautiful females whom they had
captured from hostile tribes, or who in other ways had become their
slaves. Cortez distributed these unenlightened maidens among his
captains, having first selected one of the youngest and most beautiful
of them, Marina, for his wife. Cortez had a worthy spouse upon his
plantation at Cuba. No civil or religious rites sanctioned this
unhallowed union; and he was sufficiently instructed to know that he
was sinning against the laws of both God and man; but the conscience
of this extraordinary adventurer had become involved in labyrinths
utterly inexplicable. He seemed to judge that he was doing so much for
the cause of Holy Mother Church that his own private sins were of
little comparative moment. His many good deeds, he appeared to think,
purchased ample indulgence.
But Marina was a noble woman. The relation which she sustained to
Cortez did no violence to her instincts or to her conscience. She
had never been instructed in the school of Christ. Polygamy was the
religion of her land. She deemed herself the honored wife of Cortez,
and dreamed not of wrong. Marina was in all respects an extraordinary
woman. Nature had done much for her. In person she was exceedingly
beautiful. She had winning manners, and a warm and loving heart.
Her mind was of a superior order. She very quickly mastered the
difficulties of the Castilian tongue, and thus spoke three languages
with native fluency--the Mexican, the Yucatanese, and the Spanish. "I
am more happy," said she one day, "in being the wife of my lord and
master Cortez, and of having a son by him, than if I had been
sovereign of all of New Spain."
Her career had been eventful in the extreme. She was the daughter of a
rich and powerful cacique, who was tributary to the Emperor of Mexico.
Her father died during her infancy, and her mother married again. A
son by her new husband gradually estranged the affections of the
unnatural mother from her daughter. These feelings increased, till
she regarded the child with deep dislike, and secretly gave her away
to some slave-drivers, circulating the report that the child was dead.
The slave-merchants brought her from her distant home, where the
language of Mexico was her native tongue, and sold her to one of the
chiefs of Tabasco. Here she acquired the language of Yucatan.
There was much in the energy, magnanimity, fearlessness, and glowing
temperament of Cortez to rouse a woman's love. Marina became devotedly
attached to him. She watched over his interests with a zeal which
never slumbered; and when she became the mother of his son, still more
tender ties bound her to the conqueror of her race. In subsequent
scenes of difficulty and danger, her acquaintance with the native
language, manners, and customs made her an invaluable acquisition to
the expedition.
After a few days spent at Tabasco, the hour for departure came. The
boats, decorated with the banner of the cross, and with palm leaves,
the symbols of happiness and peace, floated down the beautiful river
to the squadron riding at anchor at its mouth. Again spreading the
sails, and catching a favorable breeze, the adventurers were wafted
rejoicingly on toward the shores of Mexico. The newly-converted
natives were left to meditate upon the instructions which they had
received--to count the graves of the slain--to heal, as they could,
the gory wounds and splintered bones of their friends, still writhing
in anguish, and to wail the funeral dirge in the desolate homes of the
widow and the orphan. Seldom, in the history of the world, has such a
whirlwind of woe so suddenly burst upon any people. How long they
continued to cherish a religion introduced by such harbingers we are
not informed.
The sun shone brightly on the broad Mexican Gulf, and zephyrs laden
with fragrance from the luxuriant shores swelled the flowing sheets.
As the fleet crept along the land, the temples and houses of the
natives, and their waving fields of grain, were distinctly visible
from the decks. Many a promontory and headland was covered with
multitudes of tawny figures, decorated with all the attractions of
barbarian splendor, gazing upon the fearful phenomena of the passing
ships. Cortez continued his course several hundred miles, sweeping
around the shores of this magnificent gulf, until he arrived at the
island of San Juan de Ulua. He was seeking this spot, which Grijalva
had visited, and here he dropped his anchors in one of the harbors of
the empire of Mexico.