THE MARCH TO MEXICO.
Prudence of Cortez.--Enthusiasm of the natives.--Alarm of Montezuma.
--The embassy to Cortez.--Cortez's answer.--Conversion of the
natives.--The five maidens.--Cortez declines the gift.--Presentation
of the image.--The compromise.--Indignation on both sides.--Father
Olmedo dissuades him from his purpose.--The protest.--The prisons
emptied of the victims.--Baptism of the brides.--Montezuma invites
Cortez to his capital.--Zeal of the Tlascalans.--The city of Cholula.
--Arrival.--They decline admitting the Tlascalans.--Rumors of
treachery.--Marina discovers a plot.--Cortez resents the treachery
of the natives.--The massacre.--Destruction of Cholula.--Proclamation
offering pardon.--Appointment of the new cacique.--Public thanksgivings.
--Statement of Mr. Thompson.--Cortez resumes his march toward Mexico.
--Terror of Montezuma.--Cortez's message to the monarch.--His
answer.--Appearance of discontent.--Arrival at Ithualco.--View from
the heights.--Cortez resolves to continue his march.--Description of
the valley of Mexico.--Vacillation of Montezuma.--Offers from
Montezuma.--Satisfaction of Cortez.--His answer.--Arrival at
Amaquemecan.--Profuse hospitality.--Ayotzingo.--Lake Chalco.--
Cuitlahuac.--Immense crowd.--They enter Iztapalapan.--Appearance
of the city.--Reception of Cortez.--The procession.--The causeway.
--Arrival of the Emperor.--Appearance of Montezuma.--Meeting of the
emperor and the marauder.--Cortez conducted to his quarters.--His
accommodations.--Size and comfort of the mansion.--Vigilance of
Cortez.--Presents to Cortez.--The conference.--The tradition.
--Montezuma urged to accept the Christian faith.--The argument.
--Achievements of the Spaniards.
Cortez remained in Tlascala twenty days, to refresh his troops, and
to cement his alliance with his new friends. He was all this time
very diligent in making the most minute inquiries respecting the
condition of the Mexican empire, and in preparing for every emergence
which could arise in the continuance of his march. Bold as he was,
his prudence equaled his boldness, and he left nothing willingly to
the decisions of chance. The Tlascalans hated virulently their
ancient foes the Mexicans, and with that fickleness of character,
ever conspicuous in the uninformed multitude, became fond even to
adulation of the Spaniards. With great enthusiasm they embarked in the
enterprise of joining the expedition against Montezuma. All the forces
of the republic were promptly raised, and placed under the command of
Cortez.
Montezuma was informed of all these proceedings, and was greatly
alarmed. He feared that a prophetic doom was about to descend upon
him, and this apprehension wilted all his wonted energies. Thus
influenced, he sent an embassy, consisting of five of the most
conspicuous nobles of his empire, accompanied by a retinue of two
hundred attendants, to visit the Spanish camp. _Men of burden_ were
laden down with rich presents for Cortez. The gold alone of the gifts
was estimated at over fifty thousand dollars. Montezuma weakly hoped
by these gifts to induce Cortez to arrest his steps. The embassadors
were instructed to urge him, by all possible considerations, not to
attempt to approach the Mexican capital.
Cortez returned an answer replete with expressions of Castilian
courtesy, but declaring that he must obey the commands of his
sovereign, which required him to visit the metropolis of the great
empire.
But, in the midst of all these cares, Cortez did not forget his great
mission of converting the natives to Christianity. This subject was
ever prominent in his mind, and immediately upon his entrance into the
city he commenced, through his interpreters, urging the chiefs to
abandon their cruel idolatry. He argued with them himself, and called
into requisition all the persuasive eloquence of good Father Olmedo.
The chiefs brought five maidens, all noble born, and of selected
beauty. These girls were beautifully dressed, and each attended by
a slave. Xicotenga, the cacique of the nation, presented his own
daughter to Cortez, and requested him to assign the rest to his
officers. Cortez firmly, yet courteously declined the gift, saying,
"If you wish that we should intermarry with you, you must first
renounce your idolatrous worship and adore our God. He will then bless
you in this life, and after death he will receive you to heaven to
enjoy eternal happiness; but if you persist in the worship of your
idols, which are devils, you will be drawn by them to their infernal
pit, there to burn eternally in flames of fire."
He then presented to them "a beauteous image of Our Lady, with her
precious Son in her arms," and attempted to explain to them the
mystery of the incarnation, and the potency of the mediatorship of
the Virgin.
"The God of the Christians," the Tlascalans replied, "must be great
and good. We will give him a place with our gods, who are also great
and good. Our god grants us victory over our enemies. Our goddess
preserves us from inundations of the river. Should we forsake their
worship, the most dreadful punishment would overwhelm us."
Cortez could admit of no such compromise; and he urged the destruction
of the idols with so much zeal and importunity, that at last the
Tlascalans became angry, and declared that on no account whatever
would they abandon the gods of their fathers. Cortez now, in his turn,
was roused to virtuous indignation, and he resolved that, happen what
might, the true God should be honored by the swift destruction of
these idols of the heathen. Encouraged by the success of his violent
measures at Zempoalla, he was on the point of ordering the soldiers to
make an onslaught on the gods of the Tlascalans, which would probably
have so roused the warlike and exasperated natives as to have led to
the entire destruction of his army in the narrow streets of the
thronged capital, when the judicious and kind-hearted Father
Olmedo dissuaded him from the rash enterprise. With true Christian
philosophy, he plead that forced conversion was no conversion at all;
that God's reign was only over willing minds and in the heart.
"Religion," said this truly good man, "can not be propagated by the
sword. Patient instruction must enlighten the understanding, and
pious example captivate the affections, before men can be induced to
abandon error and embrace the truth." It is truly refreshing to meet
with these noble ideas of toleration spoken by a Spanish monk in that
dark age. Let such a fact promote, not indifference to true and
undefiled religion, but a generous charity.[C]
[Footnote C: "When Reverend Father Olmedo, who was a wise and
good theologian, heard this, being averse to forced conversions,
notwithstanding it had been done in Zempoalla, he advised Cortez to
urge it no farther at present. He also observed that the destruction
of their idols was a fruitless violence if the principle was not
eradicated from their minds by arguments, as they would find other
idols to continue their worship to elsewhere."]
Cortez reluctantly yielded to these remonstrances of an ecclesiastic
whose wisdom and virtue he was compelled to respect. The manifest
pressure of circumstances also undoubtedly had their influence. But
this ardent reformer could not yield without entering his protest.
"We can not," he said, "I admit, change the heart, but we can demolish
these abominable idols, clamoring for their hecatombs of human
victims, and we can introduce in their stead the blessed Virgin and
her blessed child. Will not this be a humane change? And, because we
can not do the whole, shall we refuse to do a part?"
Upon one point, however, Cortez was inflexible, and to this the
Tlascalans, by way of compromise, assented. He insisted that the
prisons should be entirely emptied of victims destined for sacrifice.
There were in the temples many poor wretches fattening for these
horrid orgies. A promise was also exacted from the Tlascalans that
they would hereafter desist from these heathen practices; but no
sooner had the tramp of the Spaniards ceased to echo through the
streets of Tlascala, than the prisons were again filled with victims,
and human blood, in new torrents, crimsoned their altars.
One of the temples was also cleared out, and an altar being erected,
it was converted into a Christian church. Here the young ladies
destined as brides for the Spanish soldiers were baptized, their
friends presenting no objections. The daughter of Xicotenga received
the Christian name of Louisa. Cortez took her by the hand, and
gracefully presented her to one of his captains, Alvarado, telling her
father that that officer was his brother. The cacique expressed entire
satisfaction at this arrangement. All were baptized and received
Christian names. Many of the descendants of this beautiful and amiable
Indian maiden may now be found among the grandees of Spain.
Montezuma, on the return of his embassadors, finding that no argument
could dissuade Cortez, and fearing by opposition to provoke the
hostility of an enemy who wielded such supernatural thunders, now
decided to change his policy, and by cordiality to endeavor to win his
friendship. He accordingly sent another embassy, with still richer
presents, inviting Cortez to his capital, and assuring him of a warm
welcome. He entreated him, however, not to enter into any alliance
with the Tlascalans, the most fierce and unrelenting foes of the
Mexican empire.
The time had now arrived for Cortez to resume his march. The zeal of
the Tlascalans to accompany him was so great that, according to his
representation, he might have taken with him one hundred thousand
volunteers. He, however, considered this force too unwieldy, and
accepted of but six thousand picked troops. This, however, was a
strong re-enforcement, and Cortez now rode proudly at the head of a
regular army which could bid defiance to all opposition.
Eighteen miles from Tlascala was situated the city of Cholula, and
this city was but sixty-four miles east of the renowned Mexican
metropolis. Cholula was a city whose population was estimated at one
hundred thousand. As it belonged to Mexico, the bitterest animosity
existed between its inhabitants and those of Tlascala. Cortez was
warned by his new allies not to enter the city, as he might depend
upon encountering treachery there; but the Spanish general considered
himself now too strong to turn aside from any danger.
As the Spanish army approached the city, a procession came out to meet
them, with banners, and bands of music, and censers smoking with
incense. Numerous nobles and priests headed the procession. They
received Cortez and the Zempoallans with every demonstration of
friendship, but declined admitting their inveterate enemies, the
Tlascalans, within their walls. Cortez accordingly ordered these
allies to encamp upon the plain before the city, while he, with
the rest of the army, marched with great military pomp into the
metropolis, which was resounding with acclamations.
He found a beautiful city, with wide, neatly-arranged streets and
handsome dwellings. It was the sacred city of the Mexicans. Many
gorgeous temples lined the streets, and one of extraordinary grandeur
was the most renowned sanctuary of the empire. It is alleged by some,
and denied by others, that the Mexicans had invited the Spaniards into
the holy city, hoping by the aid of the gods to effect their entire
destruction. The Tlascalans, who were encamped outside of the city,
affirmed that the women and children of the principal inhabitants were
leaving the city by night. They also declared that a large body of
Mexican troops were concealed near the town. Two of the Tlascalans,
who had entered the city in disguise, declared that some of the
streets were barricaded, and that others were undermined, and but
slightly covered over, as traps for the horses. They also reported
that six children had recently been sacrificed in the chief temple,
which was a certain indication that some great military enterprise was
on foot. Cortez, however, did not place much reliance upon this
testimony from the Tlascalans. He was well aware that they would be
glad, in any way, to bring down destruction on Cholula.
But more reliable testimony came from the amiable Marina. She had won
the love of one of the noble ladies of the city. This woman, wishing
to save Marina from destruction, informed her that a plot was in
progress for the inevitable ruin of her friends. According to her
account, deep pits were dug and concealed in the streets, stones
carried to the tops of the houses and the temples, and that Mexican
troops were secretly drawing near. The fatal hour was at hand, and
escape impossible.
The energy of Cortez was now roused. Quietly he drew up the Spanish
and Zempoallan troops, armed to the teeth, in the heart of the city.
He sent a secret order to the Tlascalans to approach, and, at a given
signal, to fall upon the surprised and unarmed Cholulans, and cut them
down without mercy. He then, upon a friendly pretext, sent for the
magistrates of the city and all the principal nobles. They were
immediately assembled, and the signal for massacre was given.
The poor natives, taken entirely by surprise, rushed in dismay this
way and that, encountering death at every corner. The Tlascalans, like
hungry wolves, swept through the streets, glutting themselves with
blood. It was with them the carnival of insatiable revenge. The
dwellings were sacked piteously, and the city every where kindled
into flame. Women and children were seized by the merciless Tlascalans
to grace their triumph, and to bleed upon their altars of human
sacrifice. For two days this horrid scene continued. At last, from
exhaustion, the carnage ceased. The city was reduced to smouldering
ruins, and pools of blood and mutilated carcases polluted the streets.
The wail of the wretched survivors, homeless and friendless, rose to
the ear of Heaven more dismal than the piercing shriek of anguish
which is silenced by death. The argument with which Cortez defends
this outrage is very laconic:
"Had I not done this to them, they would have done the same to me."
[Illustration: MASSACRE IN CHOLULA.]
Such is war--congenial employment only for fiends. It is Satan's work,
and can be efficiently prosecuted only by Satan's instruments. Six
thousand Cholulans were slain in this awful massacre. The Spaniards
were now sufficiently avenged. Cortez issued a proclamation offering
pardon to all who had escaped the massacre, and inviting them to
return to their smouldering homes. Slowly they returned, women and
children, from the mountains where they had fled; some, who had
feigned death, crept from beneath the bodies of the slain, and
others emerged from hiding-places in their devastated dwellings. The
cacique of the Cholulans had been killed in the general slaughter.
Cortez appointed a brother of the late cacique to rule over the city,
and, in apparently a sincere proclamation, informed the bereaved and
miserable survivors that it was with the greatest sorrow that he
had found himself compelled by their treachery to this terrible
punishment. The Tlascalans, glutted with the blood of their ancient
foes, were compelled to surrender all their prisoners, for Cortez
would allow of no human sacrifices.
Cortez thought that the natives were now in a very suitable frame of
mind for his peculiar kind of conversion. They were truly very pliant.
No resistance was offered to the Spanish soldiers as they tumbled the
idols out of the temples, and reared in their stead the cross and the
image of the Virgin. Public thanksgivings were then offered to God in
the purified temples of the heathen for the victory he had vouchsafed,
and mass was celebrated by the whole army.
In the year 1842, Hon. Waddy Thompson passed over the plain where once
stood the city of Cholula. He thus describes it:
"The great city of Cholula was situated about six miles from
the present city of Puebla. It was here the terrible
slaughter was committed which has left the deepest stain
upon the otherwise glorious and wonderful character of
Cortez. Not a vestige--literally none--not a brick or a
stone standing upon another, remains of this immense city
except the great pyramid, which still stands in gloomy and
solitary grandeur in the vast plain which surrounds it, and
there it will stand forever. This pyramid is built of
unburned bricks. Its dimensions, as given by Humboldt, are,
base, 1440 feet; present height, 177; area on the summit,
45,210 square feet. A Catholic chapel now crowns the summit
of this immense mound, the sides of which are covered with
grass and small trees. As seen for miles along the road, an
artificial mountain, standing in the solitude of a vast
plain, it is a most imposing and beautiful object."
After the delay of a fortnight, Cortez resumed his march toward
the capital of Mexico, which was now distant from him but twenty
leagues. It was now the 29th of October. The tidings of the horrible
retribution which had fallen upon Cholula spread far and wide, and
it accomplished its end in preventing any farther manifestations
of hostility. City after city, appalled by this exhibition of the
vengeance of those foes who wielded the thunder and the lightning
of heaven, and who, with the dreadful war-horse, could overtake the
swiftest foe, sent in the most humble messages of submission, with
accompanying presents, to propitiate the favor of the terrible
invaders.
Montezuma, as he was informed of the fate of Cholula, turned pale upon
his throne, and trembled in every fibre. He dreaded unspeakably to
have the Spaniards enter his capital, and yet he dared not undertake
to oppose them. Cortez sent embassadors before him to the capital with
the following message to Montezuma:
"The Cholulans have asserted that Montezuma instigated their
treachery. I will not believe it. Montezuma is a great and a powerful
sovereign; he would make war in the open field, and not by cowardly
stratagem. The Spaniards, however, are ready for any warfare, secret
or open."
This was bold defiance. Montezuma superstitiously read in it the
decree of fate announcing his doom. He returned an answer solemnly
declaring that he had no part in the guilt of the Cholulans, and
renewedly inviting Cortez to visit his city.
The country through which the adventurers passed became increasingly
populous, luxuriant, and beautiful. They were continually met
by embassies from the different cities on or near their route,
endeavoring to propitiate their favor by protestations of allegiance
and gifts of gold. They also perceived many indications of discontent
with the reign of Montezuma, which encouraged Cortez greatly in his
expectation of being able to overturn the empire, by availing himself
of the alienation existing in its constituent parts. Multitudes of the
disaffected joined the army of Cortez, where they were all warmly
welcomed. "Thus," says Clavigero, "the farther the Spaniards advanced
into the country, the more they continued to increase their forces;
like a rivulet which, by the accession of other streams, swells in its
course into a large river."
[Illustration: FIRST VIEW OF THE MEXICAN CAPITAL.]
For several days they toiled resolutely along, "recommending," says
Diaz, "our souls to the Lord Jesus Christ, who had brought us through
our past dangers," until, from the heights of Ithualco, they looked
down over the majestic, the enchanting valley of Mexico. A more
perfectly lovely scene has rarely greeted human eyes. In the far
distance could be discerned, through the transparent atmosphere,
the dim blue outline of the mountains by which the almost boundless
basin of Mexico was girdled. Forests and rivers, orchards and lakes,
cultivated fields and beautiful villages adorned the landscape. The
magnificent city of Mexico was situated, in queenly splendor, upon
islands in the bosom of a series of lakes more than a hundred miles
in length. Innumerable towns, with their lofty temples, and white,
picturesque dwellings, fringed the margin of the crystal waters. The
circumference of the valley girdled by the mountains was nearly two
hundred miles.
The Spaniards gazed upon the enchanting scene with amazement, and many
of them with alarm. They saw indications of civilization and of power
far beyond what they had anticipated. Cortez, however, relying upon
the efficiency of gunpowder, and also deeming himself invincible while
the sacred banner of the cross waved over his army, marched boldly on.
The love of plunder was a latent motive omnipotent in his soul, and he
saw undreamed of wealth lavishly spread before him. Though Cortez was,
at this period of his life, a stranger to the sordid vice of avarice,
he coveted intensely boundless wealth, to be profusely distributed in
advancing his great plans.[D]
[Footnote D: Hon. Waddy Thompson thus describes the appearance of the
great valley of Mexico at the present time. "The road passes within
about twenty miles of the mountain of Pococatapetl, the highest point
of the territory of Mexico; but the brightness of the atmosphere, and
a tropical sun shining upon the snow with which it is always covered,
makes the distance seem very much shorter--not, indeed, more than one
or two miles. In descending the mountain, at about the distance of
twenty-five miles the first glimpse is caught of the city and valley
of Mexico. No description can convey to the reader any adequate
idea of the effect upon one who, for the first time, beholds that
magnificent prospect. With what feelings must Cortez have regarded
it when he first saw it from the top of the mountain between the
snow-covered volcanoes of Pococatapetl and Iztaccihuatl, a short
distance to the left of where the road now runs! The valley was not
then, as it is now, for the greater part a barren waste, but was
studded all over with the homes of men, containing more than forty
cities, besides towns and villages without number. Never has such a
vision burst upon the eyes of mortal man since that upon which the
seer of old looked down from Pisgah."]
Montezuma was continually vacillating as to the course to be pursued.
At one hour he would resolve to marshal his armies, and fall, if fall
he must, gloriously, amid the ruins of his empire. The next hour
timidity would be in the ascendant, and a new embassy would be sent
to Cortez, with courteous speeches and costly gifts. The unhappy
monarch, in his despair, had gone to one of the most sacred of the
sanctuaries of the empire to mourn and to pray. Here he passed eight
days in the performance of all the humiliating and penitential rites
of his religion. But each day Cortez drew nearer, and the crowds
accumulating around him increased.
The spirit of Montezuma was now so crushed that he sent an embassy to
Cortez offering him four loads of gold for himself, and one for each
of his captains, and he also promised to pay a yearly tribute to
the King of Spain, if the dreaded conqueror would turn back. This
messenger met the Spanish army upon the heights of Ithualco, as they
were gazing with admiration upon the goodly land spread out before
them. Cortez listened with much secret satisfaction to this messenger,
as an indication of the weakness and the fear of the great monarch.
Returning the laconic answer, "I must see Montezuma, and deliver to
him personally the message of the emperor my master," he more eagerly
pressed on his way.
Montezuma received this response as the doom decreed to him by fate.
"Of what avail," the unhappy monarch is reported to have said, "is
resistance, when the gods have declared themselves against us? Yet I
mourn most for the old and infirm, the women and children, too feeble
to fight or to fly. For myself and the brave men around me, we must
bare our breasts to the storm, and meet it as we may."
The Spaniards had now arrived at the city of Amaquemecan. They
were received by the principal inhabitants of the place with an
ostentatious display of courtesy and friendship. Two very large
stone buildings were provided for their accommodation. This profuse
hospitality was excited by terror. After resting here two days, Cortez
resumed his march. Their path still led through smiling villages and
fields of maize, and through gardens blooming with gorgeous flowers,
which the natives cultivated with religious and almost passionate
devotion.
At last they arrived at Ayotzingo--the Venice of the New World--an
important town, built on wooden piles in the waters of Lake Chalco.
Gondolas of every variety of color, and of graceful structure, glided
through the liquid streets. The main body of the Spanish army encamped
outside of the city. A vast concourse of the natives flocked to
the camp. Cortez became suspicious of premeditated treachery, and
fifteen or twenty of the natives were heartlessly shot down, as an
intimidation. The terrified Indians did not venture to resent this
cruel requital of their hospitality.
After remaining here two days, the march was again resumed along the
southern shores of Lake Chalco. Clusters of villages, embowered in
luxuriant foliage, and crimson with flowers, fringed the lake. The
waters were covered with the light boats of the natives, gliding in
every direction. At last they came to a narrow dike or causeway, five
miles long, and so narrow that but two or three horsemen could ride
abreast. In the middle of this causeway, which separated Lake Chalco
from Lake Xochicalco, was built the town of Cuitlahuac, which Cortez
described as the most beautiful he had yet seen. Before the mansions
of the principal inhabitants there were lawns ornamented with trees
and shrubbery. Temples and lofty towers rose in much majesty of
architecture. Floating gardens were constructed on the lake, and
innumerable boats, plied by the strong arms of the native rowers,
almost covered the placid waters. As the Spaniards marched along this
narrow causeway, the crowd became so immense that Cortez was obliged
to resort to threats of violence to force his way. The place was so
very favorable for the natives to make an assault, that Cortez
conducted the march with the utmost possible vigilance, and commanded
the Indians not to come near his ranks unless they chose to be
regarded as enemies. The adventurers were, however, received in
Cuitlahuac with the utmost kindness, and all their wants were
abundantly supplied.
When they had crossed the narrow causeway, and had arrived on the
other side of the lake, they entered the city of Iztapalapan, which
contained, according to their estimate, about fifteen thousand houses.
The city was in the near vicinity of the capital. The natives, with
refinement and taste not yet equaled by the money-making millions of
North America, had allotted land in the centre of the city for a vast
public garden, blooming with flowers of every variety of splendor. A
large aviary was filled with birds of gorgeous plumage and sweet song.
A stone reservoir, of ample dimensions, contained water to irrigate
the grounds, and it was also abundantly stored with fish. Many of the
chiefs of the neighboring cities had assembled here to meet Cortez.
They received him with courtesy, with hospitality, but with reserve.
He was now but a few miles from the renowned metropolis of Montezuma,
and the turrets of the lofty temples of idolatry which embellished the
capital glittered in the sunlight before him.
Another night passed away, and, as another morning dawned, the Spanish
army was again on the march. It was the 8th of November, 1519. When
they drew near the city, they were first met by a procession of a
thousand of the principal inhabitants, adorned with waving plumes, and
clad in finely-embroidered mantles. They announced that their renowned
Emperor Montezuma was advancing to welcome the strangers. They were
now upon the causeway which led from the main land to the island city.
The long and narrow way was thronged with crowds which could not be
numbered, while on each side the lake was darkened with boats. Soon
the glittering train of the emperor appeared in the distance.
Montezuma was accompanied by the highest possible pomp of
semi-barbarian etiquette and splendor. He was seated in a gorgeous
palanquin, waving with plumes and glittering with gold, and was borne
on the shoulders of four noblemen. Three officers, each holding a
golden rod, walked before him. Others supported over his head, by
four posts, to shelter him from the sun, a canopy of beautiful
workmanship, richly embellished with green feathers, and gold,
and precious gems. The monarch wore upon his head a golden crown,
surmounted by a rich head-dress of plumes. A mantle, richly
embroidered with the most costly ornaments, was folded gracefully upon
his shoulders. Buskins, fringed with gold, fitted closely to his legs,
and the soles of his shoes were of gold. He was tall, well formed, and
a peculiarly handsome man.
As the monarch drew near, Cortez dismounted, and advanced on foot to
meet him. At the same time Montezuma alighted from his palanquin, and,
leaning upon the arms of two of the highest members of his court, with
great dignity approached his dreaded guest. His attendants in the mean
time spread before their monarch rich carpets, that his sacred feet
might not come in contact with the ground. An expression of anxiety
and of deep melancholy overspread the countenance of the sovereign.
[Illustration: THE MEETING OF CORTEZ AND MONTEZUMA.]
The Mexican emperor and the Spanish marauder met in the interchange of
all Mexican and Castilian courtesies. After the exchange of a few
words, the whole blended cortège marched through the immense crowd,
which opened before them, and entered the imperial city. "Who,"
exclaims Diaz, "could count the number of men, women, and children
which thronged the streets, the canals, and terraces on the tops of
the houses on that day? The whole of what I saw on this occasion is
so strongly imprinted on my memory that it appears to me as if it had
happened only yesterday. Glory to our Lord Jesus Christ, who gave us
courage to venture upon such dangers, and brought us safely through
them."
Montezuma himself conducted Cortez to the quarters which he had
prepared for his reception in the heart of the metropolis. With
refinement of politeness which would have done honor to the court
of Louis XIV., he said, on retiring,
"You are now, with your brothers, in your own house. Refresh
yourselves after your fatigue, and be happy until I return."
The spot assigned to the Spaniards was an immense palace, or, rather,
range of mansions, in the very centre of the metropolis, erected by
the father of Montezuma. The buildings inclosed an immense court-yard.
The whole was surrounded by a strong stone wall, surmounted with
towers for defense and ornament. Cortez could not have constructed
for himself a more admirable citadel for the accomplishment of his
ambitious and violent purposes. The apartment assigned to the Spanish
chieftain was tapestried with the finest embroidered cotton. The rooms
and courts were so large as to afford ample accommodations for the
whole Spanish army.
"This edifice was so large," writes one of the historians of
that day, "that both the Spaniards and their allies, who,
together with the women and the servants whom they brought
with them, exceeded seven thousand in number, were lodged
in it. Every where there was the greatest cleanliness and
neatness. Almost all the chambers had beds of mats, of
rushes, and of palm, according to the custom of the people,
and other mats, in a round form, for pillows. They had
coverlets of fine cotton, and chairs made of single pieces of
wood. Some of the chambers were also carpeted with mats, and
the walls were hung with tapestry beautifully colored."
Cortez, with vigilance which never slept, immediately fortified his
quarters, so as to guard against any possible surprise. Artillery was
planted to sweep every avenue. Sentinels were posted at important
points, with orders to observe the same diligence by night and by day
as if they were in the midst of hostile armies. A large division of
the troops was always on guard, prepared for every possible emergency.
In the evening, Montezuma returned, with great pomp, to visit his
terrible guests, and to inquire if they were provided with every thing
which could promote their comfort. He brought with him presents of
great value for Cortez and his officers, and also for each one of the
privates in the Spanish camp. A long conference ensued, during which
Montezuma betrayed his apprehension that the Spaniards were the
conquerors indicated by tradition and prophecy as decreed to overthrow
the Mexican power. Cortez artfully endeavored to frame his reply so as
to encourage this illusion. He expatiated at great length upon the
wealth and the resistless power of the emperor whom he served. "My
master wishes," said he, "to alter certain laws and customs in this
kingdom, and particularly to present to you a religion far superior to
the bloody creed of Mexico." He then, with great earnestness, unfolded
to the respectful monarch the principal doctrines of Christianity--the
one living and true God--the advent of the Savior, his atonement, and
salvation through faith in him--the rites of baptism and of the Lord's
Supper--the eternal rewards of the righteous, and the unending woes of
the wicked. To these remarks Cortez added an indignant remonstrance
against the abomination of human sacrifices, and of eating the flesh
of the wretched victims. By way of application to this sermon, which
was truthful in its main sentiments, and unquestionably sincere, this
most singular of missionaries called out the artillery. We would
not speak lightly of sacred things in stating the fact that Cortez
considered gunpowder as one of the most important of the means of
grace. He judged that the thunder of his cannon, reverberating through
the streets of the astounded capital, would exert a salutary influence
upon the minds of the natives, and produce that pliancy of spirit,
that child-like humility, so essential both to voluntary and
involuntary conversion. The most important truth and the most
revolting falsehood here bewilderingly meet and blend.
The sun had now gone down, and the short twilight was fading away
into the darkness of the night, when, at a given signal, every cannon
was discharged. The awful roar rolled through the streets of the
metropolis, and froze the hearts of the people with terror. Were these
strange beings, they inquired among themselves, who thus wielded the
heaviest thunders of heaven, gods or demons? Volley after volley, in
appalling peals, burst from the city, and resounded over the silent
lake. Dense volumes of suffocating smoke, scarcely moved by the
tranquil air, settled down upon the streets. Silence ensued. The voice
of Cortez had been heard in tones never to be forgotten. The stars
came out in the serene sky, and a brilliant tropical night enveloped
in its folds the fearless Spaniard and the trembling Mexican.
It was the night of the 8th of November. But seven months had elapsed
since the Spaniards landed in the country. The whole Spanish force,
exclusive of the natives whom they had induced to join them, consisted
of but four hundred and fifty men. They were now two hundred miles
from the coast, in the very heart of an empire numbering many
millions, and by sagacity, courage, and cruelty, they had succeeded in
bringing both monarch and people into almost entire submission to
their sway. The genius of romance can narrate few tales more
marvelous.