The Spaniards Lose Heavily in Battle—The Prisoners are Sacrificed—Some
of Cortes’ Allies Desert but Soon Return—The City of Mexico
Captured—Guatemozin Attempts Flight but is Taken
Cortes, realizing that the battle could not be continued in this wise,
decided to end the long and wearisome struggle with one bold venture. He
arranged for a general attack at a designated time (this was about the
end of May, 1521) and ordered each of his commanders to advance into the
city with his division, in spite of all obstacles, and post himself
there. He himself took command of the force which was to attack the
causeway of Cojohuacan, determined to let nothing stop him from reaching
the city. The eventful day came. The leaders placed themselves at the
head of their troops and the tragedy began. It was a thrilling
spectacle, the irresistible advance of the Spaniards and the stubborn
resistance of the Mexicans. Nothing could withstand the onset of Cortes.
He carried one defence after the other in desperate charges, cut down or
shot down everything before him, and pursued the flying enemy into the
city.
Guatemozin, who had been informed of all that was transpiring, rejoiced
at the imprudence of the enemy as he realized the advantage it placed in
his hands. He immediately ordered several strong detachments to march by
different roundabout ways to the abandoned causeways, enlarge the
openings as much as possible, and hold their positions there. The rest
of his warriors, who were engaged in a hand to hand struggle with the
enemy, gradually fell back in order to lure the excited Spaniards
farther into the city. His cunning scheme was successful. Assuming that
his orders had been executed, Cortes without hesitation drove the enemy
from one street to another and at last reached the very place where
Guatemozin was awaiting him with the flower of his warriors.
Suddenly, at a signal from the Emperor, the hollow boom of the war god’s
sacred drum was heard from the adjacent temple—a sound which always
filled the Mexican with indescribable rage and utter contempt of death.
In an instant the Spaniards, to their astonishment, found themselves
attacked on all sides so furiously that with all their courage and skill
they were unable to withstand it. They began falling back slowly in
close ranks and maintaining the defensive, but as the numbers of the
enemy increased every moment and their attack grew more furious, they
gradually began to seek safety in flight. At last their ranks broke.
All, Spaniards and Tlaxcalans, foot-soldiers and horsemen, fled in
disorder to the nearest causeway where their terror was still further
increased by finding the enemy in possession.
Cortes vainly sought by commands and entreaties to check the disorderly
flight and restore order. They neither saw nor heard anything. Their
only impulse was to save themselves in any way they could. They jumped
into the openings in squads. Many of them were drowned and others were
captured or killed by the enemy in their canoes, for unfortunately this
part of the lake was too shallow to allow the Spanish vessels to come to
their assistance. Cortes was greatly alarmed at the danger of his troops
but gave not a thought to his own. While striving to rescue some from
the water and others from the hands of the enemy, he was suddenly seized
by six stout Mexican chiefs and dragged away in triumph. Two of his
officers, seeing what had happened, determined to save their commander
by sacrificing themselves. They dashed into the midst of the enemy,
struggled and fell, but not until they had killed those who were holding
Cortes. He was freed and made his escape, although pitifully disfigured
and at the cost of his officers’ lives, which pained him more than his
wounds. A thousand Tlaxcalans and over sixty Spaniards were lost, many
were captured, while among those who escaped there was hardly one who
was not injured in some way.
Cortes’ position was now most critical. His people were completely
discouraged and the enemy was correspondingly encouraged. They grew so
bold indeed that on the next morning they ventured an attack upon the
headquarters, which the Spaniards and their allies had great difficulty
in resisting. Guatemozin at this junction conceived of another cunning
project for the discomfiture of his enemy. He sent the heads of the
slaughtered Spaniards through the provinces and everywhere proclaimed
that the blood of these enemies had appeased the wrath of the war god
and that he had declared that in eight days all the hated foreigners
would be destroyed. The news created general consternation among Cortes’
Indian allies. Their superstition was so great that they did not doubt
for an instant the threat of their war god would be executed. They
determined to abandon all association with people whom the Heavens had
doomed to destruction. Some of the Tlaxcalans themselves were recreant
and began to desert. But Cortes discovered a plan for preventing this
withdrawal, which met with success. He suspended hostilities for eight
days, meanwhile covering his well intrenched army with his vessels, and
quietly awaited the expiration of the time set for his destruction. When
it passed and the Spaniards had not suffered the least injury, the
allies began to open their eyes. They realized they had been deceived,
grew ashamed of their credulity, and came back more determined than ever
to assist the Spaniards in the complete overthrow of the hated Mexican
Empire. Others, who had not really believed the deceitful announcement
came from their war god, were all the more grateful that the deception
now made the downfall of the Mexicans inevitable. The accessions of old
and new allies were so great that in a few days Cortes had an army of
one hundred and fifty thousand natives. Instead, however, of being
misled by this astonishing increase of his strength, he proceeded more
cautiously than ever. He made several tenders of peace to the Mexicans,
but Guatemozin, who was thoroughly convinced that any alliance with the
Spaniards would result in the servitude of himself and his people,
rejected the offers with scorn, being still determined either to rescue
the fatherland or die in the attempt.
Hostilities were resumed. The city was now so closely shut in that
supplies were entirely cut off. This produced a dire famine, followed as
usual by a pestilence, which swept away the poor natives in great
numbers. Meanwhile the Spaniards daily approached nearer the city by the
three causeways. In pursuance of Cortes’ new plans every advance was
accompanied by preparations for a safe retreat to the mainland in case
of necessity. By continuing this policy the city was reached on all
three sides and the noble, brave Guatemozin at last fought the Spaniards
upon a hand-breadth of land. The latter continued advancing, setting on
fire the section of the city already captured, and maintaining their
strongly intrenched position. The great marketplace was the objective
point for all three divisions. Alvarado was the first to reach it.
Cortes quickly followed at the head of the division led by Olid, driving
the Mexicans before him at the point of the sword. Sandoval also joined
them and the slaughter was terrible. Three-fourths of the city was now
captured and almost reduced to ashes. Guatemozin had intrenched himself
in the remaining part with the flower of his soldiers. The Spaniards
were about to attack him, but Cortes, who was anxious to save further
bloodshed, and flattered himself that Guatemozin could hold out no
longer, stayed further hostilities and again made offers of peace.
Seemingly the Emperor was ready to accept them and a short cessation of
fighting followed without any expressed agreement. Meanwhile the two
parties confronted each other, separated only by a trench. Absolute
quiet prevailed on both sides. Guatemozin meanwhile put off the
Spaniards from day to day with the assurance that he would personally
appear and conduct negotiations. This was only a pretext to lull the
Spaniards into security, and conceal his own purpose. Acting upon the
entreaties of his nobles, he had decided to save himself from death or
capture by flight to distant provinces of his Empire, there to raise a
new army and make head against his enemies. The necessary preparations
were all made. The Mexican nobles were ready to give up their lives for
their loved Emperor. They had a great number of canoes in readiness and
a bold attack was made upon the vessels while Guatemozin, the object of
their tender solicitude, was being conveyed across the lake. Sandoval,
who was in command of the vessels, vainly attempted to drive them back
by firing his heavy cannon. They despised death and wounds and rowed
about unterrified, seeking to come to a hand to hand struggle.
[Illustration: _THE ENTRY OF CORTES INTO MEXICO CITY_]
Suddenly Sandoval observed a strongly manned canoe being rowed with
great speed directly across the lake. He also observed what the canoe
contained and at once gave chase. Holquin, whose vessel was the fastest,
reached it first, but as soon as the rowers found that he was about to
open fire, they dropped their oars and begged him to spare the life of
the Emperor. Overjoyed at the honor his good fortune had brought him,
Holquin sprang with drawn sword into the canoe. Guatemozin met him nobly
and fearlessly, and said he was his prisoner and ready to follow him,
praying only that his wife and her attendant should meet with honorable
treatment. He turned to the latter, spoke a few words of encouragement,
and then extended his hand to conduct them to the vessel. That moment—it
was the thirteenth of August, 1521—decided the fate of the whole Mexican
Empire which in the person of its Emperor was delivered into the hands
of the Spaniards.
Holquin hastened to conduct his prisoner to Cortes who received him upon
the shore of the lake with the respect due to his position and his
virtues. The unfortunate Guatemozin seemed to accept the courtesy of his
conqueror with a certain pleasure and accompanied him with great
self-command to his quarters. He seated himself for a moment, then rose
and said to Cortes, with the interpreter’s help: “I have done what my
duty demanded. I am of no more importance, and a prisoner like me must
be a burden to his captor. Rise! take this dagger (placing it in Cortes’
hand) and plunge it into my heart and put an end to my useless life.”
His wife wept aloud at these words and Cortes was much agitated. He
besought the unfortunate man to calm himself and thereupon left him so
as not to increase their trouble by his presence.
As soon as it was known that Guatemozin had been captured, the Mexicans
laid down their arms and the Spaniards were masters of the city. The
first few days were spent in rejoicing over the fortunate outcome of
their undertaking, but before long rejoicing changed to discontent at
the sight of the small compensation they were likely to receive after so
many dangers and hardships. The larger part of the houses were consumed
with all their treasures, and when Guatemozin had found that the safety
of his capital was doubtful, everything of value in the royal treasury
had been thrown into the lake. The booty which was collected was so
inconsiderable that many of the Spaniards threw away with contempt the
portion assigned to them. They soon began loudly to denounce Guatemozin
and next their general, whom they were bold enough to declare had taken
the largest part of the treasures.
Cortes vainly tried to quiet them. Aldereto, who had been appointed
royal treasurer, espoused the cause of the malcontents and demanded by
virtue of his office that the Emperor and his premier should be
delivered over to him to reveal in what part of the lake the treasures
were sunk. Cortes, who had faced so many storms, was this time weak and
inhuman enough to yield to this monster. Guatemozin and his loyal
premier were stretched upon the rack. The Emperor bore all the torments
which the brute could devise with wonderful firmness. His premier
imitated his example, but when they proceeded to put him to still more
inhuman torture, he uttered a loud cry and turned his eyes to his master
as if asking permission to confess what he knew. Guatemozin understood
the look and said with the utmost composure, “Am I lying upon a bed of
roses?” His words went to the heart of his faithful servant. Not a loud
sound escaped his lips again as he expired before the eyes of his
tortured master with the sublime steadfastness of a hero and the
tranquillity of a saint.
Cortes, who had heard from a distance the outcry of the poor man,
overcome by remorse and shame, rushed to the apartment and saved the
life of the tortured Emperor.