unostentatious habits, to render himself more agreeable to his English
guests than even Francis had been able to do with all his profuse and
expensive civilities. Not, as some may condemn us, in consequence of
our national fickleness; nor, as others may excuse us, because
Englishmen preferred the plainer manners of the German or the Fleming;
but because in the interview with Francis, in spite of appearances,
there was no real cordiality. A tournament, in fact, was the least
eligible method of promoting friendly feeling; it was more likely to
engender unpleasant disputes and jealousies. To enforce the rules laid
down for preserving order and fair play among the combatants was not an
easy or a popular task. National rivalry was apt to break out, and it
was hard for the judges to escape the imputation of partiality. Nor did
the English, it must be admitted, return from the field in much good
humor. With a feeling of complacency engendered by their insular
position and their long isolation from the Continent, they had been wont
to consider themselves as far superior to the French in all exercises of
strength and agility. The French knights had shown themselves fully
equal to their English opponents; the French King was not inferior in
personal courage and activity to his English rival. Then rumors, such as
spring up like the dragon's teeth in vast and motley multitudes,
evidently fanned and fostered by Flemish emissaries, continually
represented the French as engaged in contriving some act of treachery
against the English King and nation. Among the nobles, also, the Dukes
of Suffolk and Buckingham, the lord Abergavenny, and others were glad of
any pretext for maligning a pageant of which Wolsey had the prime
direction.
Francis still hovered on the frontier in the fruitless hope of being
invited to take part in this interview with the Emperor. The day before
Charles left Ghent, the Lady Vendome and the Duchess her daughter-in-law
contrived to have business in that town, but their artifice was not
successful. Francis was obliged to content himself with the assurance
that the visage and countenance of his English ally appeared "not to be
so replenished with joy" as at the valley of Ardres, and that he had
given proofs of undiminished affection by riding a courser that Francis
had given him. With an impressiveness intended to be candid, he told Sir
Richard Wingfield, who had succeeded as English resident at the French
court, that "if the King Catholic were a prince of like faith unto the
King his brother [Henry], and that he might perceive from Wolsey that
his coming thither [to Calais] might be the cause of any good conclusion
between them" (that is, between himself and the Emperor), "he would not
fail to come in post, and not to have looked for rank and place to him
belonging, but would have put him into the King's chamber as one of the
number of the same." But neither his extreme humility nor his flattering
proposal that Henry and himself, "the chief pillars of Christendom,"
should handle the Pope, whom Francis knew "to be at some season the
fearfulest creature of the world, and at some other to be as brave," nor
the schemes and blandishments of the ladies, availed. He chafed under
disappointment; still more at his ill-success in counteracting the
growing intimacy of Henry and the Emperor. He had exhausted, to little
purpose, "that liberal and unsuspicious confidence" which too credulous
historians are apt to think characterized his proceedings at the Field
of the Cloth of Gold, to the disadvantage of his less attractive and
engaging contemporary. He could neither prevent the meetings of his two
rivals nor penetrate their secrets. He was utterly foiled, yet dared not
show his resentment. While the Pope and the Spaniards, unable to
penetrate beneath the surface or read the signs of the times, were
puzzled and scandalized at the Emperor's condescension, the world looked
on with astonishment, as well it might, to see the two monarchs of the
West thus anxiously soliciting the Cardinal's good graces. What could
there be in the son of a butcher to command such deference?
Of the projects discussed at this interview we are not precisely
informed. The English version, intended for the meridian of the French
court, and to lull the suspicions of Francis, is the only account we
possess. If any credit be due to a statement prepared under such
circumstances and calculated to alienate the French King irrecoverably
from the Emperor, we are to believe that the imperial ambassadors had
already proposed to Henry to break off his matrimonial engagement with
France, and transfer the hand of the princess Mary to the Emperor. As an
inducement for the King to coincide in this arrangement, the Emperor
undertook to make war on France by sea and land, and not desist until
Henry "had recovered his right and title in the same." The King,
according to the same document, rejected such a treacherous overture
with the utmost horror, vehemently protesting against its immorality and
perfidiousness. That such a proposal was made, though probably not by
Chievres, to whom it is attributed--that it was accepted by England, but
with none of the indignation described in the document--is clear beyond
dispute. Long before any interruption had occurred in the amicable
relations between the two countries, before even the landing of Charles
at Canterbury, or in the interview in the valley of Ardres, it had been
secretly proposed that the French engagement should be set aside, and
the hand of Mary be transferred to the Emperor. The King's horror at
this act of faithlessness--if it had any existence beyond the paper on
which it was written--must have been tardy and gratuitous, seeing that
the chief purpose of the meeting at Calais was to settle the basis of
this matrimonial alliance, and obtain the solemn ratification of the
Emperor.
CORTES CAPTURES THE CITY OF MEXICO
A.D. 1521
WILLIAM H. PRESCOTT
Spain had already begun to conquer and colonize the New
World when in 1519 Hernando Cortes, with about 700 men,
landed in Mexico, having previously served in Espanola
(Haiti) and Cuba. He was born in Medellin, Estremadura,
Spain, in 1485, and was therefore now about thirty-four
years of age. To make the retreat of his force impossible,
he destroyed his ships and marched into the interior and
established himself in the capital city, Tenochtitlan, on
the site of the present city of Mexico.
Cortes found Southern Mexico under the rule of the Aztecs
(more correctly Aztecas), a partly civilized and powerful
branch of Nahuatl Indians of Central Mexico. They had formed
a confederacy with other tribes, and now maintained a
formidable empire in the Mexican valley plateau. Their
emperor was Montezuma II, who sent messengers to remonstrate
against the advance of Cortes. The Spaniard continued his
march, entered the city, and soon made Montezuma his
prisoner, holding him as a hostage. In June, 1520, the
Spaniards were besieged in the city; during a parley
Montezuma was killed; on the night of the 30th the
Spaniards, while trying to leave the city, lost half their
men in a severe fight, and only after another battle (July
7th) escaped into Tlascala.
Reorganizing his force, strengthened by Indian allies and by
ships which he built on the lakes, Cortes, in May, 1521,
began the siege of Mexico, as historians call the Aztec
capital. Guatemotzin, the last of the Aztec emperors, made a
desperate defence, and before its capture the city was
almost destroyed. On August 12th the Spaniards made a strong
assault, which so weakened the defenders that the following
day was to be the last of the once flourishing empire.
Cortes' chief lieutenants were Pedro de Alvarado, Gonzalo de
Sandoval, and Olid, famous Spanish soldiers.
After taking the capital city, Cortes, being empowered by
Guatemotzin, conquered the whole of Mexico, which was called
New Spain, and in 1523 he was appointed governor.
On the morning of August 13, 1521, the Spanish commander again mustered
his forces, having decided to follow up the blow of the preceding day
before the enemy should have time to rally, and at once to put an end to
the war. He had arranged with Alvarado, on the evening previous, to
occupy the market-place of Tlatelolco; and the discharge of an arquebuse
was to be the signal for a simultaneous assault. Sandoval was to hold
the northern causeway, and, with the fleet, to watch the movements of
the Indian Emperor and to intercept the flight to the mainland, which
Cortes knew he meditated. To allow him to effect this would be to leave
a formidable enemy in his own neighborhood, who might at any time kindle
the flame of insurrection throughout the country. He ordered Sandoval,
however, to do no harm to the royal person, and not to fire on the enemy
at all except in self-defence.
It was the day of St. Hippolytus--from this circumstance selected as the
patron saint of modern Mexico--that Cortes led his warlike array for the
last time across the black and blasted environs which lay around the
Indian capital. On entering the Aztec precincts he paused, willing to
afford its wretched inmates one more chance of escape before striking
the fatal blow. He obtained an interview with some of the principal
chiefs, and expostulated with them on the conduct of their Prince. "He
surely will not," said the general, "see you all perish, when he can
easily save you." He then urged them to prevail on Guatemotzin to hold a
conference with him, repeating the assurances of his personal safety.
The messengers went on their mission, and soon returned with the
Cihuacoatl at their head, a magistrate of high authority among the
Mexicans. He said, with a melancholy air, in which his own
disappointment was visible, that "Guatemotzin was ready to die where he
was, but would hold no interview with the Spanish commander"; adding in
a tone of resignation, "It is for you to work your pleasure." "Go,
then," replied the stern conqueror, "and prepare your countrymen for
death. Their hour is come."
He still postponed the assault for several hours. But the impatience of
his troops at this delay was heightened by the rumor that Guatemotzin
and his nobles were preparing to escape with their effects in the
periaguas and canoes which were moored on the margin of the lake.
Convinced of the fruitlessness and impolicy of further procrastination,
Cortes made his final dispositions for the attack, and took his own
station on an azotea which commanded the theatre of operations.
When the assailants came into the presence of the enemy, they found them
huddled together in the utmost confusion, all ages and both sexes, in
masses so dense that they nearly forced one another over the brink of
the causeways into the water below. Some had climbed on the terraces,
others feebly supported themselves against the walls of the buildings.
Their squalid and tattered garments gave a wildness to their appearance
which still further heightened the ferocity of their expression, as they
glared on their enemy with eyes in which hate was mingled with despair.
When the Spaniards had approached within bow-shot, the Aztecs let off a
flight of impotent missiles, showing to the last the resolute spirit,
though they had lost the strength, of their better days. The fatal
signal was then given by the discharge of an arquebuse--speedily
followed by peals of heavy ordnance, the rattle of fire-arms, and the
hellish shouts of the confederates as they sprang upon their victims.
It is unnecessary to stain the page with a repetition of the horrors of
the preceding day. Some of the wretched Aztecs threw themselves into the
water and were picked up by the canoes. Others sank and were suffocated
in the canals. The number of these became so great that a bridge was
made of their dead bodies, over which the assailants could climb to the
opposite banks. Others again, especially the women, begged for mercy,
which, as the chroniclers assure us, was everywhere granted by the
Spaniards, and, contrary to the instructions and entreaties of Cortes,
everywhere refused by the confederates.
While this work of butchery was going on, numbers were observed pushing
off in the barks that lined the shore, and making the best of their way
across the lake. They were constantly intercepted by the brigantines,
which broke the flimsy array of boats, sending off their volleys to the
right and left as the crews of the latter hotly assailed them. The
battle raged as fiercely on the lake as on the land. Many of the Indian
vessels were shattered and overturned. Some few, however, under cover of
smoke, which rolled darkly over the waters, succeeded in clearing
themselves of the turmoil, and were fast nearing the opposite shore.
Sandoval had particularly charged his captains to keep an eye on the
movements of any vessel in which it was at all probable that Guatemotzin
might be concealed. At this crisis, three or four of the largest
periaguas were seen skimming over the water and making their way rapidly
across the lake. A captain, named Garci Holguin, who had command of one
of the best sailors in the fleet, instantly gave them chase. The wind
was favorable, and every moment he gained on the fugitives, who pulled
their oars with a vigor that despair alone could have given. But it was
in vain; and after a short race, Holguin, coming alongside of one of the
periaguas, which, whether from its appearance or from information he had
received, he conjectured might bear the Indian Emperor, ordered his men
to level their cross-bows at the boat. But, before they could discharge
them a cry arose from those in it that their lord was on board. At the
same moment a young warrior, armed with buckler and _maquahuitl_, rose
up, as if to beat off the assailants. But, as the Spanish captain
ordered his men not to shoot, he dropped his weapons and exclaimed: "I
am Guatemotzin. Lead me to Malintzin;[33] I am his prisoner, but let no
harm come to my wife and my followers."
Holguin assured him that his wishes should be respected, and assisted
him to get on board the brigantine, followed by his wife and attendants.
These were twenty in number, consisting of Coanaco, the deposed Lord of
Tlacopan, the Lord of Tlacopan, and several other caciques and
dignitaries, whose rank, probably, had secured them some exemption from
the general calamities of the siege. When the captives were seated on
the deck of the vessel Holguin requested the Aztec Prince to put an end
to the combat by commanding his people in the other canoes to surrender.
But with a dejected air he replied: "It is not necessary. They will
fight no longer when they see their Prince is taken." He spoke the
truth. The news of Guatemotzin's capture spread rapidly through the
fleet and on shore, where the Mexicans were still engaged in conflict
with their enemies. It ceased, however, at once. They made no further
resistance; and those on the water quickly followed the brigantines,
which conveyed their captive monarch to land. It seemed as if the fight
had been maintained thus long the better to divert the enemy's attention
and cover their master's retreat.
Meanwhile, Sandoval, on receiving tidings of the capture, brought his
own brigantine alongside of Holguin's and demanded the royal prisoner to
be surrendered to him. But the captain claimed him as his prize. A
dispute arose between the parties, each anxious to have the glory of the
deed, and perhaps the privilege of commemorating it on his escutcheon.
The controversy continued so long that it reached the ears of Cortes,
who, in his station on the azotea, had learned with no little
satisfaction the capture of his enemy. He instantly sent orders to his
wrangling officers to bring Guatemotzin before him, that he might adjust
the difference between them. He charged them, at the same time, to treat
their prisoner with respect. He then made preparations for the
interview, caused the terrace to be carpeted with crimson cloth and
matting, and a table to be spread with provisions, of which the unhappy
Aztecs stood so much in need. His lovely Indian mistress, Dona Marina,
was present to act as interpreter. She stood by his side through all the
troubled scenes of the conquest, and she was there now to witness its
triumphant termination.
Guatemotzin, on landing, was escorted by a company of infantry to the
presence of the Spanish commander. He mounted the azotea with a calm and
steady step, and was easily to be distinguished from his attendant
nobles, though his full, dark eye was no longer lighted up with its
accustomed fire, and his features wore an expression of passive
resignation, that told little of the fierce and fiery spirit that burned
within. His head was large, his limbs well proportioned, his complexion
fairer than that of his bronze-colored nation, and his whole deportment
singularly mild and engaging.
Cortes came forward with a dignified and studied courtesy to receive
him. The Aztec monarch probably knew the person of his conqueror, for he
first broke silence by saying: "I have done all that I could to defend
myself and my people. I am now reduced to this state. You will deal with
me, Malintzin, as you list." Then, laying his hand on the hilt of a
poniard stuck in the General's belt, he added with vehemence, "Better
despatch me with this, and rid me of life at once." Cortes was filled
with admiration at the proud bearing of the young barbarian, showing in
his reverses a spirit worthy of an ancient Roman. "Fear not," he
replied; "you shall be treated with all honor. You have defended your
capital like a brave warrior. A Spaniard knows how to respect valor even
in an enemy." He then inquired of him where he had left the Princess his
wife; and, being informed that she still remained under protection of a
Spanish guard on board the brigantine, the General sent to have her
escorted to his presence.
She was the youngest daughter of Montezuma, and was hardly yet on the
verge of womanhood. On the accession of her cousin Guatemotzin to the
throne, she had been wedded to him as his lawful wife. She is celebrated
by her contemporaries for her personal charms; and the beautiful
Princess Tecuichpo is still commemorated by the Spaniards, since from
her by a subsequent marriage are descended some of the illustrious
families of their own nation. She was kindly received by Cortes, who
showed her the respectful attentions suited to her rank. Her birth, no
doubt, gave her an additional interest in his eyes, and he may have felt
some touch of compunction as he gazed on the daughter of the unfortunate
Montezuma. He invited his royal captives to partake of the refreshments
which their exhausted condition rendered so necessary. Meanwhile the
Spanish commander made his dispositions for the night, ordering Sandoval
to escort the prisoners to Cojohuacan, whither he proposed himself
immediately to follow. The other captains, Olid and Alvarado, were to
draw off their forces to their respective quarters.
It was impossible for them to continue in the capital, where the
poisonous effluvia from the unburied carcasses loaded the air with
infection. A small guard only was stationed to keep order in the wasted
suburbs. It was the hour of vespers when Guatemotzin surrendered, and
the siege might be considered as then concluded. The evening set in
dark, and the rain began to fall before the several parties had
evacuated the city.
During the night a tremendous tempest, such as the Spaniards had rarely
witnessed, and such as is known only within the tropics, burst over the
Mexican valley. The thunder, reverberating from the rocky amphitheatre
of hills, bellowed over the waste of waters, and shook the _teocallis_
and crazy tenements of Tenochtitlan--the few that yet survived--to their
foundations. The lightning seemed to cleave asunder the vault of heaven,
as its vivid flashes wrapped the whole scene in a ghastly glare for a
moment, to be again swallowed up in darkness. The war of elements was in
unison with the fortunes of the ruined city. It seemed as if the deities
of Anahuac,[34] scared from their ancient bodies, were borne along
shrieking and howling in the blast, as they abandoned the fallen capital
to its fate.
FOOTNOTES:
[33] A name given by the Indians to Cortes.
[34] The low water-bordered coastal region of Mexico. The name is now
applied to a part of the table-land near the city of Mexico.--ED.
LIBERATION OF SWEDEN
A.D. 1523
ERIC GUSTAVE GEIJER[35]
Gustavus Vasa, son of Eric Johanson, and hence called
Gustavus Ericson, was descended from the house of Vasa, and
before the beginning of his long reign (1523-1560) as king
of Sweden had served his country against the Danes, who were
the controlling power in the union with Sweden and Norway.
In a battle fought at the Brennkirk, July 22, 1518,
Gustavus, then twenty-two years old, bore the Swedish
banner. This battle resulted in the defeat of Christian II
of Denmark. Gustavus was given as a hostage to Christian
during his interview with the Swedish administrator, and the
Dane treacherously carried the young patriot off to Denmark.
In the following year he escaped in the disguise of a
peasant.
Sweden was conquered by Christian in 1520, and in the same
year, having taken Stockholm, he ordered there the massacre
of the nobility, known as the "Blood-bath." Ninety of the
leading men of Sweden, including the father of Gustavus,
were put to death. This outrage provoked an uprising, in
which the province of Dalecarlia bore the leading part, and
its people followed Gustavus in a movement for independence.
He soon gathered an army of his adherents, called
"Dalesmen"--men of the dales--strong enough to meet the
enemy.
Gustavus Vasa is not only famed as the deliverer of Sweden,
but also as the promoter of popular education in his
country, and for the support which he gave to the
Reformation, he himself having early embraced the doctrines
of Luther.
The heroic aspects of this Scandinavian patriot and King
have alike endeared his memory to his own people and made
his fame to endure in the world annals of mankind. His last
appearance and address before the estates of his kingdom, in
the closing year of his life, have been finely commemorated
in art, with a commingling of power and pathos, the aged
monarch taking leave of his people and his throne. "He took
his place in the hall of assemblage, accompanied by all his
sons. The King having saluted the estates, they listened for
the last time to the accents of that eloquence so well liked
by the people."
[Illustration: Gustavus I (Vasa) addressing his last meeting of the
Estates
Painting by L. Hersent]
The most influential yeomen of all the parishes in the eastern and
western dales elected Gustavus to be "lord and chieftain over them and
the commons of the realm of Sweden." Some scholars who had arrived from
Westeras brought with them new accounts of the tyranny of Christian.
Gustavus placed them amid a ring of peasants to tell their story and
answer the questions of the crowd. Old men represented it as a
comfortable sign for the people, that as often as Gustavus discoursed to
them the north wind always blew, "which was an old token to them that
God would grant them good success." Sixteen active peasants were
appointed to be his bodyguard; and two hundred more youths who joined
him were called his foot-goers. The chronicles reckon his reign from
this small beginning; while the Danes and their abettors in Stockholm
long continued to speak of him and his party as a band of robbers in the
woods.
Thus the Dalesmen swore fidelity to Gustavus--the inhabitants, namely,
of the upper parishes on both arms of the Dal-elf, where a numerous
people, living amid wild yet grand natural scenery and hardened by
privations, is still known by that name. Gustavus came to the Kopparberg
with several hundred men in the early part of February, 1521, there took
prisoner his enemy Christopher Olson, the powerful warden of the mines,
made himself master of the money collected for the crown dues, and of
the wares of the Danish traders on the spot, distributed both the money
and goods among his men--who made their first standard from the silk
stuffs there taken--and then returned to the Dales. Not long afterward,
on a Sunday, when the people of the Kopparberg were at church, Gustavus
again appeared at the head of fifteen hundred Dalesmen. He spoke to the
people after divine service, and now the miners likewise swore fidelity
to his cause. Thereupon the commonalty of the mining districts and the
Dalesmen wrote to the commons of Helsingland, requesting that the
Helsingers might bear themselves like true Swedish men against the
overbearing violence and tyranny of the Danes. Those cruelties which
King Christian had already exercised on the best in the land, they said,
would soon reach every man's door and fill all the houses of Sweden with
the tears and shrieks of widows and orphans; if they would take up arms
and show themselves to be stout-hearted men, there was now good hope for
victory and triumph under a praiseworthy captain, the lord Gustavus
Ericson, whom God had preserved "as a drop of the knightly blood of
Sweden"; wherefore they begged them to give their help for the sake of
the brotherly league by which, since early times, the commonalty of both
countries had been united.