THE SINKING OF THE FLEET.
JULY-AUGUST, 1519.
DIEGO VELAZQUEZ ONCE MORE—HIS SUPPORTERS IN THE CAMP OF
CORTÉS—THEY ATTEMPT ESCAPE—ARE DISCOVERED—THE LEADERS
ARE SEIZED AND EXECUTED—CORTÉS’ RIDE TO CEMPOALA, AND
WHAT CAME OF IT—HE DETERMINES ON THE DESTRUCTION OF
THE FLEET—PRELIMINARY STRATAGEMS—SEVERAL OF THE SHIPS
PRONOUNCED UNSEAWORTHY—THE MATTER BEFORE THE SOLDIERS—THE
FLEET SUNK—INDIGNATION OF THE VELAZQUEZ FACTION—ONE VESSEL
REMAINING—IT IS OFFERED TO ANY WISHING TO DESERT—IT IS
FINALLY SUNK—FRANCISCO DE GARAY’S PRETENSIONS—SEIZURE OF SOME
OF HIS MEN.
To the top of a fir-tree, which he curbed and then let spring,
Theseus fastened the robber Sinis, who had been accustomed himself
to kill travellers in that way. In a hollow brazen bull, which he
had made for the Sicilian tyrant to roast his victims in, Perillus
the inventor was roasted. A famous detective was hanged at last for
house-breaking. Matthew Hopkins, the witch-finder, who about the middle
of the seventeenth century travelled the country over to discover and
bring witches to punishment, was finally, with pronounced effect,
subjected to one of his own tests. Witches, he had said, would not
sink in water. This was a safe proposition for the prosecution; for
if they sank they were drowned, and if they did not sink they were
burned. Being at length himself charged with witchcraft, the people
seized and threw him into a river; and as he floated, by his own law
he was declared a witch, and put to death accordingly. In more ways
than one, he who invents a guillotine is often the first to suffer
by it. It is not wise to sow dragons’ teeth, and expect therefrom a
happy harvest.
Now Diego Velazquez had all his life been sowing dragons’ teeth, and
hunting witches, and building guillotines, and brazen bulls. Starting
from Spain in the guise of a noble old soldier, as he advertised
himself, though some said of him that his sword was bloodless and
his bravery bravado, he served the usual apprenticeship in the New
World, chasing, and mutilating, and murdering, and enslaving natives,
working to death on his plantations those saved for this most cruel
fate. For this and similar service Diego Colon, then ruling the
Indies at Española, sent him to Cuba to play governor there over
those inoffensive and thrice unlucky savages. Fraud being native
to his character, no sooner was he fairly seated than he repudiated
his late master and benefactor, and reported directly to the king,
even as his own captain of the Mexican expedition was now doing.
Another of his guillotines was the vile treatment of Grijalva for
not disobeying orders, on which score he could not complain against
Grijalva’s successor. Yet, as head and heart frosted with time the
Cuban governor was not happy: misdeeds never bring true or lasting
happiness. His bitterness, however, was but in the bloom; the full
fruit of his folly would come only after the consummation of events
upon the continent, grand as yet beyond conception. Ordinarily it
is much easier to kill a man than to create one; in this instance it
was extremely difficult to kill the man that he had made.
If among the New World cavaliers such a thing as poltroon or coward
could be, Diego Velazquez was that thing, notwithstanding he had
participated in so much fighting. Yet I do not call him coward, for
my pen refuses to couple such a term with that of sixteenth-century
Spaniard. Certain it is, however, that few men in those days preferred
conquering new lands by deputy to winning glory in person, and if
this soldier and governor was not a coward, there was little of the
manly or chivalrous in his bravery. He was cautious, yet frequently
his cupidity overcame his caution; and when he adventured his gold—for
he seldom risked his life, either for fame which he dearly loved,
or for gold which he loved still dearer—it was under restrictions
ruinous to almost any enterprise. In his ordinary mood he played
fairly enough the statesman and hero, but in truth his statesmanship
was superficial, and his heroism theatrical. Las Casas calls him
a terrible fellow for those who served him, and Gomara says he had
little stomach for expenditures. This much allowance, however, should
be made in any statements of historians respecting the governor of
Cuba: in their drama of the conquest Diego Velazquez plays the part
of chief villain to the hero Hernan Cortés, when as a matter of fact
Cortés was the greater villain of the two, principally because he
was the stronger.
Even the priests praise Cortés, though many of his acts were
treacherous; and timidity in a leader was accounted the most heinous
of crimes. On the whole, I agree with Torquemada that the governor
should have gone against Montezuma in person, if it was necessary
he should go on such dastardly work at all; but we may be sure that
Velazquez would not himself venture upon this sea of high exploit,
though Æolus with a silver cord had tied up the winds in an ox-hide,
as he did for Ulysses. And now from this time forth, and indeed from
the moment the unrestrainable Estremaduran embarked defying him,
the sulphurous fire of hatred and revenge burned constant in the old
man’s breast.
* * * * *
Never was villainy so great that if united with high station or ability
it could not find supporters; for most men are rascals at heart in
one direction or another. The pretty pair, Velazquez the governor,
and Cortés the adventurer—so well pitted that the difference between
them consists chiefly in setting off the position of one against
the native strength of the other, the manners and pusillanimity of
the one against the fate-defying chivalry of the other—had each his
active workers not only in Spain, but in America, those of Velazquez
being some of them in the very camp of Cortés. Since the royal grant
of superior powers to Velazquez, this faction has lifted its head.
And now its brain works.
The messengers for Spain had scarcely left the port before these
malcontents form a plot, this time not with the sole desire to return
to a more comfortable and secure life, but with a view to advise
Velazquez of the treasure ship so close at hand. Amongst them are
to be found the priest Juan Diaz; Juan Escudero, the alguacil of
Baracoa, who beguiled and surrendered Cortés into the hands of the
authorities; Diego Cermeño and Gonzalo de Umbría, pilots; Bernardino
de Coria, and Alonso Peñate, beside several leading men who merely
countenanced the plot.[252] They have already secured a small vessel
with the necessary supplies, and the night of embarkment is at hand,
when Coria repents and betrays his companions.
Cortés is profoundly moved. It is not so much the hot indignation
that stirs his breast against the traitors as the light from afar that
seems to float in upon his mind like an inspiration, showing him more
vividly than he had ever seen it before, his situation. So lately
a lax and frivolous youth, apparently of inept nature, wrought to
stiffer consistency by some years of New World kneading, by a stroke
of the rarest fortune he suddenly finds himself a commander of men,
in a virgin field of enterprise fascinating beyond expression, and
offering to the soldier possibilities excelled by nothing within the
century. As the mind enlarges to take in these possibilities, the
whole being seems to enlarge with it, the unstable adventurer is a
thing of the past, and behold a mighty rock fills the place. Against
it heads shall beat unprofitably. The momentous question of to be or
not to be is forever determined; it is an affair simply of life now.
Life and the power of which he finds himself possessed shall rise
or fall together; and if his life, then the lives of others. No life
shall be more precious to him than his own; no life shall be accounted
precious at all that stands in the way of his plans. To a lady who
complained of the burning of the Palatinate by Turenne, Napoleon
answered: “And why not, madame, if it was necessary to his designs?”
The Palatinate! ay, and a hundred million souls flung into the same
fire, ere the one omnipotent soul shall suffer the least abridgment.
It was a small matter, and he would do it; all the islands of the
Western Inde he would uproot and fling into the face of the Cuban
governor before he would yield one jot of his stolen advantage. Each
for himself were Velazquez, Columbus, and Charles, and the rest of
this world’s great and little ones, and Cortés would be for himself.
Henceforth, like Themistocles, though he would die for his country he
would not trust her. Return to Cuba he well knew for him was death,
or ignominy worse than death. His only way was toward Mexico. As
well first as last. All the past life of Cortés, all his purposes
for the future, concentred in these resolves to make them the pivot
of his destiny. Cortés, master of kings, arbiter of men’s lives! As
for these traitors, they shall die; and if other impediments appear,
as presently we shall see them appear, be they in the form of eye or
right hand, they shall be removed. Tyrant, he might be branded; ay,
as well that as another name, for so are great ends often brought to
pass by small means. Unpleasant as it may be, the survivors may as
well bear in mind that it will be less difficult another time.
So the conspirators are promptly seized and sentenced, Escudero and
Cermeño to be hanged, Umbría to lose his feet, and others to receive
each two hundred lashes.[253] Under cover of his cloth Padre Diaz,
the ringleader and most guilty of them all, escapes with a reprimand.
As for the rest, though among them were some equally guilty, they
were treated with such dissembling courtesy and prudence as either
to render them harmless or to convert them into friends. “Happy the
man who cannot write, if it save him from such business as this!”
exclaimed the commander, as he affixed his name to the death-warrants.
For notwithstanding his inexorable resolve he was troubled, and would
not see his comrades die though they would have sacrificed him. On
the morning of the day of execution he set off at breakneck speed
for Cempoala, after ordering two hundred soldiers to follow with
the horses and join a similar force which had left three days before
under Alvarado.[254]
Cortés’ brain was in a whirl during that ride. It was a horrible
thing, this hanging of Spaniards, cutting off feet, and flogging.
Viewed in one light it was but a common piece of military discipline;
from another stand-point it was the act of an outlaw. The greater
part of the little army was with the commander; to this full extent
the men believed in him, that on his valor and discretion they would
adventure their lives. With most men beliefs are but prejudices, and
opinions tastes. These Spaniards not only believed in their general,
but they held to a most impetuous belief in themselves. They could
do not only anything that any one else ever had done or could do,
but they could command the supernatural, and fight with or against
phantoms and devils. They were a host in themselves; besides which
the hosts of Jehovah were on their side. And Cortés measured his men
and their capabilities, not as Xerxes measured his army, by filling
successively a pen capable of holding just ten thousand; he measured
them rather by his ambition, which was as bright and as limitless as
the firmament. Already they were heroes, whose story presently should
vie in thrilling interest with the most romantic tales of chivalry
and knight-errantry, and in whom the strongest human passions were so
blended as to lift them for a time out of the hand of fate and make
their fortunes their own. The thirst for wealth, the enthusiasm of
religion, the love of glory, united with reckless daring and excessive
loyalty, formed the most powerful incentives to action. Life to them
without the attainment of their object was valueless; they would do or
die; for to die in doing was life, whereas to live failing was worse
than death. Cortés felt all this, though it scarcely lay on his mind
in threads of tangible thought. There was enough however that was
tangible in his thinkings, and exceedingly troubling. Unfortunately
the mind and heart of all his people were not of the complexion he
would have them. And those ships. And the disaffected men lying so
near them, looking wistfully at them every morning, and plotting,
and plotting all the day long. Like the Palatinate to Turenne, like
anything that seduced from the stern purposes of Cortés, it were
better they were not.
This thought once flashed into his mind fastened itself there. And
it grew. And Cortés grew with it, until the man and the idea filled
all that country, and became the wonder and admiration of the world.
Destroy the ships! Cut off all escape, should such be needed in case of
failure! Burn the bridge that spans time, and bring to his desperate
desire the aid of the eternities! The thought of it alone was daring;
more fearfully fascinating it became as Cortés dashed along toward
Cempoala, and by the time he had reached his destination the thing
was determined, and he might with Cæsar at the Rubicon exclaim, _Jacta
est alea_! But what would his soldiers say? They must be made to feel
as he feels, to see with his eyes, and to swell with his ambition.
The confession of the conspirators opened the eyes of Cortés to a fact
which surely he had seen often enough before, though by reason of his
generous nature which forgot an injury immediately it was forgiven, it
had not been much in his mind of late, namely, that too many of his
companions were lukewarm, if not openly disaffected. They could not
forget that Cortés was a common man like themselves, their superior in
name only, and placed over them for the accomplishment of this single
purpose. They felt they had a right to say whether they would remain
and take the desperate chance their leader seemed determined on, and
to act on that right with or without his consent. And their position
assuredly was sound; whether it was sensible depended greatly on
their ability to sustain themselves in it. Cortés was exercising the
arbitrary power of a majority to drive the minority as it appeared to
their death. They had a perfect right to rebel; they had not entered
the service under any such compact. Cortés himself was a rebel; hence
the rebellion of the Velazquez men, being a rebelling against a rebel,
was in truth an adherence to loyalty. Here as everywhere it was might
that made right; and, indeed, with the right of these matters the
narrator has little to do.
Success, shame, fear, bright prospects, had all lent their aid to
hold the discontented in check, but in these several regards feeling
and opinion were subject to daily fluctuations. Let serious danger
or reverses come, and they would flee in a moment if they could.
And the fleet lying so near was a constant temptation. Cut that
off, and the nerves of every man there would be freshly strung.
The meanest would suddenly become charged with a kind of nobility;
they would at once become inspired with the courage that comes from
desperation. Often those least inclined to fight when forced to it
are the most indifferent to death. Other dormant elements would be
brought out by the disappearance of those ships; union, fraternity,
complete community, not only of interest but of life. Their leader
with multiplied power would become their god. On him they would be
dependent for all things; for food and raiment, for riches, glory,
and every success; for life itself. Cortés saw all this, pondered
it well, and thought it would be very pretty to play the god awhile.
He would much prefer it to confinement in old Velazquez’ plaza-pen,
or even in a Seville prison. Cortés was now certain in his own mind
that if his band remained unbroken either by internal dissension
or by white men yet to arrive, he would tread the streets of the
Mexican capital before he entered the gates of the celestial city.
If Montezuma would not admit him peaceably, he would gather such a
force of the emperor’s enemies as would pull the kingdom down about
his ears. It would be necessary on going inland to leave a garrison
at Villa Rica; but it would be madness to leave also vessels in which
they could sail away to Cuba or elsewhere. And finally, if the ships
were destroyed, the sailors, who otherwise would be required to care
for them, might be added to the army. Such were the arguments which
the commander would use to win the consent of his people to one of
the most desperate and daring acts ever conceived by a strategist of
any age or nation.
Not that such consent was necessary. He might destroy the ships and
settle with the soldiers afterward. The deed accomplished, with or
without their consent, there would be but one course open to them.
Nevertheless he preferred they should think themselves the authors
of it rather than feel that they had been tricked, or in any way
unfairly dealt with. And with the moral he would shift the pecuniary
responsibility to their shoulders. So he went to work as usual, with
instruments apparently independent, but whose every step and word
were of his directing. One day quickly thereafter it came to pass
that the masters of several of the largest ships appeared before
the captain-general with lengthened faces well put on, with the sad
intelligence that their respective craft were unseaworthy; indeed one
of them had sunk already. They did not say they had secretly bored
holes in them according to instructions. Cortés was surprised, nay
he was painfully affected; Roscius himself could not have performed
the part better; “for well he could dissemble when it served his
purpose,” chimes in Las Casas. With Christian fortitude he said:
“Well, the will of God be done; but look you sharply to the other
ships.” Barnacles were then freely discussed, and teredos. And so
well obeyed the mariners their instructions that soon they were
able to swear that all the vessels save three were unsafe, and even
these required costly repairs before they would be seaworthy.[255]
Thus as by the hand of providence, to the minds of the men as they
were able to bear it, the deed unfolded. Soon quite apparent became
the expediency of abandoning such vessels as were leaking badly;
there was trouble and no profit in attempting to maintain them,
for they would surely have to be abandoned in the end. “And indeed,
fellow-soldiers,” continued Cortés, “I am not sure but it were best
to doom to destruction also the others, and so secure the coöperation
of the sailors in the coming campaign, instead of leaving them in
idleness to hatch fresh treachery.” This intimation was successful,
as had been foreordained by the ruler of these events it should be.
It was forthwith resolved to scuttle all the ships but one, the one
brought by Salcedo. Accordingly Escalante, the alguacil mayor, a brave
and able officer wholly devoted to Cortés, was sent down to Villa
Rica to carry out the order, with the aid of the picked soldiers
there stationed. Sails, anchors, cables, and everything that could
be utilized were removed, and a few hours later some small boats were
all that remained of the Cuban fleet.[256]
It was then the community first realized its situation. The followers
of Cortés, with unbounded faith in their leader, did not so much care,
but the partisans of Velazquez, few of whom knew that the affair had
been coolly predetermined, were somewhat agitated. And when on closer
inquiry they were enlightened by certain of the mariners, the cry
arose that they were betrayed; they were lambs led to the slaughter.
Cortés promptly faced the now furious crowd. What did they want? Were
their lives more precious than those of the rest? “For shame! Be men!”
he cried, in conclusion. “You should know ere this how vain are the
attempts to thwart my purpose. Look on this magnificent land with
its vast treasures, and narrow not your vision to your insignificant
selves. Think of your glorious reward, present and to come, and trust
in God, who, if it so please him, can conquer this empire with a single
arm. Yet if there be one here still so craven as to wish to turn his
back on the glories and advantages thus offered; if there be one here
so base, so recreant to heaven, to his king, to his comrades, as to
slink from such honorable duty, in God’s name let him go. There is
one ship left, which I will equip at my own charge to give that man
the immortal infamy he deserves.” This he said and much more, and
to the desired effect. The speaker knew well how to play upon his
men, as on an instrument, so that they would respond in any tune he
pleased. Cheers rent the air as he concluded, in which the opposition
were forced to join through very shame. Seeing which Cortés gently
intimated, “Would it not be well to destroy the remaining vessel, and
so make a safe, clean thing of it?” In the enthusiasm of the moment
the act was consummated with hearty approval.[257]
“To Mexico!” was now the cry, and preparations for the march were at
once made. Escalante, whose character and services had endeared him
to Cortés, was placed in command of Villa Rica. The native chiefs
were directed to regard him as the representative of the general,
and to supply him with every requirement.[258]
Some nine days after the sinking of the fleet a messenger arrived
from Escalante, announcing that four vessels[259] had passed by the
harbor, refusing to enter, and had anchored three leagues off, at
the mouth of a river. Fearing the descent upon him of Velazquez,
Cortés hurried off with four horsemen, after selecting fifty soldiers
to follow. Alvarado and Sandoval were left jointly in charge of the
army, to the exclusion of Ávila, who manifested no little jealousy of
the latter. Cortés halted at the town merely to learn particulars,
declining Escalante’s hospitality with the proverb, “A lame goat
has no rest.” On the way to the vessels they met a notary with two
witnesses,[260] commissioned to arrange a boundary on behalf of
Francisco de Garay, who claimed the coast to the north as first
discoverer, and desired to form a settlement a little beyond Nautla.
It appeared that Garay, who had come out with Diego Colon, and had
risen from procurador of Española to become governor of Jamaica, had
resolved to devote his great wealth to extending his fame as explorer
and colonizer. On learning from Alaminos and his fellow voyagers of
the coasts discovered in this direction, he resolved to revive the
famed projects of Ponce de Leon, and with this view despatched a
small fleet in 1518, under Diego de Camargo.[261] Driven back by the
Floridans with great slaughter, says Gomara, the expedition sailed
down to Pánuco River, again to be repulsed, with the loss of some
men, who were flayed and eaten. Torralba, steward of Garay, was then
sent to Spain, and there, with the aid of Garay’s friends, obtained
for him a commission as adelantado and governor of the territories
that he might discover north of Rio San Pedro y San Pablo.[262]
Meanwhile a new expedition was despatched to Pánuco, under Alonso
Álvarez Pineda, to form a settlement and to barter for gold. After
obtaining some three thousand pesos, Pineda sailed southward to take
possession and to select a site for the colony.[263]
And now while the notary is endeavoring to arrange matters with
Cortés, Pineda waits for him a little distance from the shore. At
that moment Cortés cared little for Garays or boundaries; but he
would by no means object to a few more Spaniards to take the place
of those he had hanged, and of others whom he might yet be obliged
to hang. To this end he converted perforce to his cause the notary
and his attendants. Then learning from them that Pineda could on no
account be prevailed on to land for a conference, Cortés signalled
to the vessels with the hope that more men would come on shore. This
failing, he bethought himself of letting three of his men exchange
clothes with the new-comers and approach the landing, while he marched
back with the rest in full view of the vessels. As soon as it grew
dark, the whole force returned to hide near the spot. It was not till
late the following morning that the suspicious Pineda responded to
the signals from shore, and sent off a boat with armed men. The trio
now withdrew behind some bushes, as if for shade. Four Spaniards and
one Indian landed, armed with two firelocks and two cross-bows, and
on reaching the shrubbery they were pounced upon by the hidden force,
while the boat pushed off to join the vessels all ready to sail.[264]
FOOTNOTES
[252] The names vary somewhat in different authorities,
Bernal Diaz including instead of Peñate, a number of the
Gibraltar sailors known as Peñates, who were lashed at
Cozumel for theft. The plot was hatched ‘Desde â quatro dias
que partieron nuestros Procuradores.’ _Hist. Verdad._, 39.
Cortés mentions only four ‘determinado de tomar un bergantin
... y matar al maestre dél, y irse á la isla Fernandina.’
_Cartas_, 53-4. Gomara assumes them to be the same who last
revolted on setting out for Tizapantzinco. _Hist. Mex._,
64. ‘Pusieron ... por obra de hurtar un navío pequeño,
é salir á robar lo que llevaban para el rey.’ _Tapia_,
_Relacion_, in _Icazbalceta_, _Col. Doc._, ii. 563. Peter
Martyr jumbles the names, dec. v. cap. i.
[253] Thus Cortés had his revenge on the alguacil. ‘Y no
le valiò el ser su Compadre,’ says Vetancvrt, with a hasty
assumption which is not uncommon with him. _Teatro Mex._,
pt. iii. 119. Gomara mentions no mutilation. ‘Parece claro
ser aquestas obras, ... propias de averiguado tirano,’ says
Las Casas, _Hist. Ind._, iv. 496, which may be regarded as
a singularly mild expression for the bishop. Herrera dwells
upon Cermeño’s extraordinary skill with the leaping-pole;
he could also smell land fifteen leagues off the coast,
dec. ii. lib. v. cap. xiv. ‘Coria, vezino que fue despues
de Chiapa.’ _Bernal Diaz_, _Hist. Verdad._, 39.
[254] ‘Embiado ... por los pueblos de la sierra, porque
tuuiessen que comer; porque en nuestra Villa passauamos
mucha necessidad de bastimentos.’ _Id._ This seems unlikely,
since the Totonacs were not only willing, but bound, to
provide supplies.
[255] _Testimonio de Montejo y Puertocarrero_, in _Col.
Doc. Inéd._, i. 489, 494. ‘Viniesen á él, cuando estuviese
mucha gente con él junta, y le denunciasen como no podian
vencer el agua de los navíos.’ _Las Casas_, _Hist. Ind._,
iv. 497. ‘Tuuo forma para que los soldados mas aficionados
que tenia se lo pidiessen.... Los soldados se lo pidieron,
y dello se recibio auto por ante escriuano.’ _Herrera_,
dec. ii. lib. v. cap. xiv. ‘Le aconsejamos los que eramos
sus amigos, que no dexasse Nauio en el Puerto.’ _Bernal
Diaz_, _Hist. Verdad._, 39.
[256] ‘Los Pilotos, ê Maestres viejos, y marineros, que
no erã buenos para ir â la guerra, que se quedassen en la
Villa, y cõ dos chinchorros que tuuiessen cargo de pescar
... y luego se vino (Escalante) â Cempoal con vna Capitania
de hombres de la mar, que fuessen los que sacaron de los
Nauios, y salieron algunos dellos muy buenos soldados.’
_Bernal Diaz_, _Hist. Verdad._, 40.
[257] It is generally admitted that Cortés suggested the
idea of destroying the fleet, for even Bernal Diaz, who at
first gives the credit to the men by saying, ‘le aconsejamos
los que eramos sus amigos,’ confesses on the following
page that ‘el mismo Cortès lo tenia ya concertado.’ _Hist.
Verdad._, 39-40. The preponderating testimony also shows
that the masters made their report in public, with the
evident object, as the best authorities clearly indicate,
of obtaining the consent of the responsible majority for
the scuttling. During the partition of treasures at Mexico,
large shares were set aside for Cortés and Velazquez to
cover the cost of the fleet and the outfit, ‘que dimos
al traues con ellos, pues todos fuimos en ellos,’ _Bernal
Diaz_, _Hist. Verdad._, 84, which is proof, in addition to
the reliable assertion that the deed was agreed upon by
the majority. Cortés’ expression, ‘los eché á la costa,’
_Cartas_, 54, is merely that of a leader of that party or
majority, who besides really gives credit to others. Hence
the conclusion of Prescott and others, that the scuttling
was done on his own responsibility, is not well founded.
Cortés was clever enough always to have those present who
were ready to take any responsibility for him that he might
wish. The phrase, ‘his was the greatest sacrifice, for they
(the vessels) were his property,’ _Prescott’s Mex._, i. 374,
is also wrong, for he was compensated by the army. And it
is an exaggeration to say that the execution of the measure
‘in the face of an incensed and desperate soldiery, was
an act of resolution that has few parallels in history,’
_Id._, 376, since his party supported him. According to
Gomara the pilots bore holes in the vessels, and bring
their report, whereupon five vessels are first sunk; shortly
afterward the remainder except one are scuttled. The offer
of this vessel to those who wished to return was made with
a view to learn who were the cowards and malcontents. Many
indeed did ask for leave, but half of them were sailors.
Others kept quiet out of shame. _Hist. Mex._, 65. It was
never Cortés’ policy to mark the disaffected, however.
This author is followed by Torquemada, ‘porque asi se ha
platicado siempre entre las Gentes, que mas supieron de esta
Jornada,’ i. 409, and on the strength of this the latter
argues that Herrera’s version, dec. ii. lib. v. cap. xiv.,
which adheres chiefly to Bernal Diaz’, must be wrong. Tapia,
_Relacion_, in _Icazbalceta_, _Col. Doc._, ii. 563, conforms
chiefly to Gomara. Robertson, after following Bernal Diaz,
takes the trouble of having the ships ‘drawn ashore and
... broke in pieces.’ _Hist. Am._, ii. 33-4; _Clavigero_,
_Storia Mess._, iii. 35-6; _Oviedo_, _Hist. Gen._, iii.
262; _Sandoval_, _Hist. Carlos V._, i. 171; _Peter Martyr_,
dec. v. cap. i. Peralta has them burned by secret agents
of Cortés. _Nat. Hist._, 76. Solis, ever zealous for his
hero, objects to Bernal Diaz’ attempt to pluck any of the
glory, and scouts the idea that fears of pecuniary liability
could have influenced Cortés to gain the approval of others
for his act. ‘Tuvo á destreza de historiador el penetrar
lo interior de las acciones,’ is the complacent tribute to
his own skill in penetrating the question. _Hist. Mex._, i.
214-15. The view of the foundering fleet, appended to some
editions of his work, has been extensively copied. One is
given in the Antwerp edition of 1704, 141. A still finer
view, with the men busy on shore, and the sinking vessels in
the distance, is to be found in the Madrid issue of 1783,
i. 213. The destruction of the fleet has been lauded in
extravagant terms by almost every authority, from Gomara
and Solis to Robertson and Prescott, as an unparalleled
deed. Of previous examples there are enough, however, even
though the motives and the means differ. We may go back to
Æneas, to whose fleet the wives of the party applied the
torch, tired of roaming; or we may point to Agathocles,
who first fired his soldiers with a resolution to conquer
or to die, and then compelled them to keep their word by
firing the vessels. Julian offered a tamer instance during
his campaign on the Tigris; but the deed of the terrible
Barbarossa in the Mediterranean, only a few years before
the Mexican campaign, was marked by reckless determination.
Still examples little affect the greatness of an act;
motives, means, and results afford the criteria. ‘Pocos
exemplos destos ay, y aquellos son de grandes hombres.’
_Gomara_, _Hist. Mex._, 65. ‘Una de las acciones en que mas
se reconoce la grandeza de su ánimo.... Y no sabemos si de
su género se hallará mayor alguna en todo el campo de las
Historias.’ _Solis_, _Hist. Mex._, i. 213. ‘An effort of
magnanimity, to which there is nothing parallel in history.’
_Robertson_, _Hist. Am._, ii. 34. ‘Un’impresa, che da per
se sola basterebbe a far conoscere la sua magnanimità, e ad
immortalare il suo nome.’ _Clavigero_, _Storia Mess._, iii.
35; Prescott, _Mex._, i. 375-6, is equally carried away,
and he finds more words for his admiration. He is wrong in
supposing that one of the vessels in the harbor was left
intact; the exempt ship referred to by a chronicler was
the one carrying the messengers to Spain.
* * * * *
Antonio de Solis y Ribadeneyra is remarkable as the first
Spanish historian of the conquest. It appears to us strange
that an episode so glorious to the fame of Castilians
should have been allowed to lie so long neglected in the
musty pages of their chroniclers. True, these were worthy,
zealous men, who conscientiously narrated every occurrence
of any note, but their standard for historic truth and
dignity caused them to clothe facts, however striking, in
a garb of dreary gravity, dryness of detail, and ambiguous
confusion, which discouraged even the student. It required
the dramatic eye of the composer and the imagination
of the poet to appreciate the picturesque sketches of a
strange people now fading into oblivion, the grandeur of a
semi-savage pageantry, the romantic exploits that recalled
the achievements of the Cid. This faculty was innate in
Solis, developed besides by a long and successful career in
letters. He had profited also by the advantages opened to
him as the secretary of Conde de Oropesa, Viceroy of Navarre
and of Valencia, who Mæcenas-like fostered the talents and
aided in the promotion of the promising savant, for as such
he already ranked. Cradled in the famous college town of
Alcalá de Henares, he had given early evidence of talent,
and at Salamanca university he had signalized himself in
his seventeenth year by producing a comedy of considerable
merit. While pursuing with energy the study of law and moral
philosophy, he cultivated with hardly less ardor the muses,
to which end he was no doubt impelled also by his intimacy
with the illustrious Calderon. Several of his dramas were
received with acclamation, and one was translated into
French, while his miscellaneous poems, reprinted in our
days, are marked by a vivid imagination and an elegance
which also adorns his letters. Talents so conspicuous did
not wait long for recognition, and with the aid of his
patron he advanced to the dignities of royal secretary and
chief chronicler of the Indies. When 56 years old his mind
underwent a change, and entering the church he abandoned
forever the drama and light literature. The pen changed
only its sphere, however, for it served the historiographer
zealously, achieving for him the greatest fame; and fame
alone, for at his death, in April, 1686, at the age of 76,
deep poverty was his companion. When he entered on this
office the Indies had lapsed into the dormant quietude
imposed by a strict and secluding colonial régime. There
were no stirring incidents to reward the efforts of the
historian, save those connected with free-booter raids,
which offered little that could flatter Spanish pride. To
achieve fame he must take up some old theme, and present
it in a form likely to rouse attention by its contrast.
Thus it was that he selected the thrilling episode of the
conquest of Mexico, with the determination to rescue it
from the unskilful arrangement and repetitions, the want of
harmony and consistency, the dryness and faulty coloring,
to which it had hitherto been subjected, and to expend
upon it the effects of elegant style and vast erudition.
When the work appeared at Madrid, in 1684, its superior
merits were instantly recognized, and although the sale
at first was not large, editions have multiplied till our
day, the finest and costliest being the illustrated issue
of 1783-4, in two volumes, which I quote, while consulting
also the notes of several others. So grand and finely
elaborated a subject, and that from a Spanish historian who
was supposed to have exhausted all the available resources
of the Iberian archives, could not fail to rouse general
attention throughout Europe, and translations were made
into different languages. Robertson, among others, while
not failing to point out certain blemishes, has paid the
high compliment of accepting Solis for almost sole guide
on the conquest, and this with a blindness which at times
leads him into most amusing errors. Even Prescott warms to
his theme in a review of six closely printed pages, wherein
eulogy, though not unmingled with censure, is stronger than
a clearer comprehension of the theme would seem to warrant.
But in this he is impelled to a great extent by his oft
displayed tendency to hero worship.
Solis deserves acknowledgment for bringing order out of
chaos, for presenting in a connected form the narrative of
the conquest, and for adorning it with an elegant style.
But he has fulfilled only a part of the promises made
in his preface, and above all has he neglected to obtain
information on his topic beyond that presented in a few
of the generally accessible works, even their evidence
being not very closely examined. He has also taken great
liberties with the text, subordinating facts to style and
fancy, seizing every possible opportunity to manufacture
speeches for both native and Spanish heroes, and this with
an amusing disregard for the consistency of language with
the person and the time. His religious tendencies seriously
interfere with calm judgment, and impel him to rave with
bigoted zeal against the natives. The hero worship of the
dramatist introduces itself to such an extent as frequently
to overshadow everything else, and to misrepresent. ‘Sembra
più un panegirico, che una istoria,’ says Clavigero, very
aptly. _Storia Mess._, i. 16. His arguments and deductions
are at times most childish, while his estimation of himself
as a historian and thinker is aired in more than one place
with a ridiculous gravity. With regard to style, Solis
had Livy for a model, and belonged to the elder school of
historians; he was its last good representative, in fact.
His language is expressive and elegant, greatly imbued with
a poetic spirit not unsuited to the subject, and sustained
in eloquence, while its pure idiom aids to maintain the
work as classic among Castilians. ‘Ingenio Conceptuoso,
Floridisimo, i Eloquente,’ is the observation in the work
of his historiographic predecessor, Pinelo, _Epitome_, ii.
607. But it lacks in boldness and dignity; the rhapsodies
are often misplaced, and the verboseness is tiresome. Some
of the faults are of course due to the time, but not the
many, and it also becomes only too apparent that Solis is
so conceitedly infatuated with his affected grandiloquence
as to sacrifice facts wherever they interfere with its
free scope. It is said that he intended to continue the
history of Mexico after the conquest, and that death alone
prevented the consummation of the project. But this is
mere conjecture, and it appears just as likely that the
dramatist recognized the effect of closing a great work
at so appropriate a point as the fall of Mexico. The work
was taken up, however, by Salazar y Olarte, who published
in 1743 the second part of the _Conquest_, till the death
of Cortés, abounding in all the faults of the superficial
and florid composition of Solis.
[258] ‘Luego le zahumaron [the chiefs] al Juan de Escalante
con sus inciensos.’ _Bernal Diaz_, _Hist. Verdad._, 40. ‘Dejé
en la villa de la Veracruz ciento y cincuenta hombres con
doze de caballo.’ _Cortés_, _Cartas_, 52-3. One hundred and
fifty Spaniards, with two horses and two fire-arms, were
left here under Pedro de Ircio, _Gomara_, _Hist. Mex._,
65-6, but Bernal Diaz corrects him. ‘Al Pedro de Ircio no
le auian dado cargo ninguno, ni aun de cuadrillero.’ ubi
sup.; _Ixtlilxochitl_, _Hist. Chich._, 291. The force seems
to be altogether too large. Bernal Diaz, _Hist. Verdad._,
51, says 60 old and suffering soldiers were left as garrison.
[259] Bernal Diaz says one vessel; but Cortés and other
authorities mention four.
[260] Bernal Diaz, who appears to have been with the party,
names them as Guillen de la Loa, notary; Andrés Nuñez,
shipwright; Pedro de la Arpa, a Valencian, and a fourth
man. _Hist. Verdad._, 40.
[261] ‘Armo Francisco de Garay tres carauelas en Iamaica,
el año de mil quiniẽtos y deziocho, y fue a tentar la
Florida.’ _Gomara_, _Hist. Ind._, 55. ‘Determinó de enviar
á un hidalgo, llamado Diego de Camargo, á descubrir é
continuar el descubrimiento que Grijalva habia hecho, con
uno ó con dos navios; el cual descubrió la provincia de
Panuco, ó, por mejor decir, comenzó de allí donde Grijalva
se habia tornado, que fué desde Panuco, y anduvo navegando
por la costa cien leguas hácia la Florida.’ _Las Casas_,
_Hist. Ind._, iv. 466; _Herrera_, dec. ii. lib. iii. cap.
xi.; _Galvano’s Discov._, 133-4.
[262] See _Hist. Mex._, i. 29, this series. ‘El Rey se
las concedió el año de 819, estando en Barcelona.’ _Las
Casas_, loc. cit. ‘Torralua ... truxo prouisiones para que
fuesse Adelantado, y Gouernador desde el rio de San Pedro,
y San Pablo, y todo lo que descubriesse: y por aquellas
prouisiones embiò luego tres Nauios con hasta dozientos y
setenta soldados.’ _Bernal Diaz_, _Hist. Verdad._, 41.
[263] Bernal Diaz intimates that Pineda had remained at
Rio Pánuco to colonize, while one vessel was sent down to
take possession where Cortés met the men. After giving an
account of two expeditions in 1518 and 1519, Gomara says:
‘Otros dizen, que no fue mas de vna vez. Sino que como
estuuo mucho alla cuẽtan por dos.’ _Hist. Ind._, 55. But
Las Casas mentions distinctly that it was on the strength of
Camargo’s discoveries, in 1518, that the grant was made to
Garay in the following year, ubi sup. ‘Garai auia corrido
mucha costa en demãda de la Florida, y tocado en vn rio
y tierra, cuyo rey se llamaua Panuco, donde vieron oro,
aun que poco. Y que sin salir de las naues auiã rescatado
hasta tres mil pesos de oro.’ _Gomara_, _Hist. Mex._, 67;
_Cortés_, _Cartas_, 56-7; _Oviedo_, iii. 262-3; _Herrera_,
dec. ii. lib. vi. cap. i.
[264] ‘El uno(of the captured ones) era maestre de la una
nao, é puso fuego á la escopeta, é matara al capitan de la
Veracruz, sino que á la mecha le faltó el fuego.’ _Oviedo_,
iii. 263. Bernal Diaz, in a less intelligent account of
the capture, states that only two men landed. ‘Por manera
que se huuieron de aquel Nauio seis soldados.... Y esto es
lo que se hizo, y no lo que escriue el Coronista Gomara.’
_Hist. Verdad._, 41. But Cortés’ version must surely be the
best, since it was related shortly after the occurrence,
and by an immediate participator in the events.