RENEWING his march, in a little time Cortes reached Xalacingo, on the
borders of the Tlascalan dominions, and immediately prepared to send
messengers into their country, to tell them of his arrival. Four
Chempoallans of high rank were chosen for this purpose. Dressed after
the manner of ambassadors (with cotton mantles full of knots at the
ends), and bearing a long arrow tipped with white feathers, the symbol
of peace,[7] they departed. Contrary to all expectation, they were
received unkindly. The Tlascalans at once seized them, and prepared to
sacrifice them to their gods. Fortunately, through the neglect of the
guard placed over them, they managed to escape, and hurried back to the
Spanish camp with their awful story. The Tlascalans were angry, and
swore that they would sacrifice the Spaniards, and all who should assist
them, to the gods; and were now gathering in vast numbers to stop their
progress.
This news surprised Cortes. He had supposed that the warlike Tlascalans
would have welcomed him as a strong ally to aid them in their opposition
to Montezuma; and that, at least, their friendship with the Chempoallans
and Totonacas would have made them his friends. He was at a loss to know
the meaning of their conduct: perhaps his messengers had proved
treacherous; possibly the Tlascalans might have supposed that he was a
secret friend to Montezuma; or it might be that they had heard of what
he had done in the temple at Chempoalla, and were determined upon
revenge. These thoughts passed rapidly through his mind; but the truth
is, he was wrong in all: he had mistaken the character of the
Tlascalans. They were a warlike, independent people. They had once been
governed by kings, but had shaken off the yoke, and formed themselves
into a sort of republic. They had divided themselves into districts:
each district had its separate ruler, who was elected by the people, and
who represented his province in the general senate of Tlascala. It was
not to be supposed that people who had thus struggled for independence
and made a government of their own, would receive a band of armed
strangers kindly; and had Cortes known as much of them, he would hardly
have expected it.
But surprise could not help him. He knew that a struggle was before him,
and, without a sign of fear, he rallied his men for their march into
Tlascala. Particular instructions were given to the different troops of
his army, and then their beautiful standard was raised before them.
Cortes, pointing to the banner, cried out, “Spaniards! follow boldly the
standard of the Holy Cross, through which we shall conquer;” and the
soldiers with one accord shouted, “On! on! in the name of God, in whom
alone we place our trust.”
After a march of two leagues, the Spaniards came to a stone wall, which
in former days had been thrown up by the Tlascalans to stop the invaders
from Mexico. Finding no enemy, they easily crossed the wall and pressed
on. It was not long now before the advanced guard of the army saw some
of the Tlascalan troops, and had a slight skirmish. In a little time, as
Cortes came forward with the main body, three thousand Tlascalans rushed
from an ambush and poured in their arrows upon them. The Spaniards met
this valiantly. After an obstinate struggle, the Indians were forced to
give way and make their retreat. Yet Cortes marked that their retreat
was made in an orderly and fearless manner, unlike the flight of most of
the savages whom he had met; and he felt at once that he had to deal
with no common Indians. He began therefore to be very particular in
choosing the spots where his army should halt, and guarding the
encampments through the night; and gave special command to the troops by
no means to separate on their marches, but to proceed in solid and
compact order.
The next day he was met by six thousand Tlascalans. These instantly
attacked him, filling the air with their arrows, and making the plain
echo with their yells, drums, and trumpets. But the cannons made sad
havoc among them, and in a little time they gladly retreated to the top
of a hill in the distance, from which they soon disappeared. Following
on, Cortes reached at length the same height, when the whole Tlascalan
army burst upon his sight. The plain far and wide was covered with the
multitude. Forty thousand men were there, under the command of
Xicotencatl, the general-in-chief of the Tlascalan republic. Undismayed
by the numbers, he commanded his men to keep together at all hazards,
and commenced at once descending the hill, amid flights of stones and
arrows. They reached the plain: the cavalry and artillery were fairly
brought into the action, and once more, after an hour’s hard fight, the
Tlascalans retreated before them. This was an unfortunate day for the
Tlascalans; multitudes of their men were slain--how many, it is
impossible to say, for, like all Indians, they carried off their dead
to conceal their losses. Eight of their chiefs fell, while two were made
prisoners. The Spaniards had fifteen men wounded, of whom only one died.
One of their horses, however, was killed. The Indians carried the body
away in triumph, and, cutting it in pieces, sent parts of it to all the
cities of Tlascala.
Though victorious, Cortes was not satisfied with this hard struggle. The
loss of one man was sorely felt by him; and he felt, moreover, that if
other nations should by any chance join the Tlascalans, there was no
hope of success to his enterprise. He desired peace, therefore, and
accordingly sent his two prisoners to their countrymen with offers of
peace. To this friendly message, Xicotencatl only sent back this bold
answer:--“Bid them proceed to Tlascala, where the peace they shall meet
from us shall be displayed by the sacrifice of their hearts and blood to
the gods, and of their bodies to our feasts.”
Cortes now very coolly informed his men that they were to make ready for
another battle; and all that night they were busy in preparing their
arms, ammunition, &c., and in making confession of their sins, and other
acts of devotion. When morning dawned, they resumed their march, even
the wounded men taking their places in the ranks. Ere long, they came
again in sight of the Tlascalan army. It covered the plain for two
leagues: there were no less than fifty thousand men now gathered to
oppose them; the army was made up of five divisions, each division being
under the command of a chief, and the whole led on by the general
Xicotencatl. His banner, bearing a large white bird like a spread
ostrich, was proudly carried before him. As the Spaniards came near, the
Indians commenced the battle with a tremendous discharge of arrows,
darts, and stones, and then, amid shouts and yells as usual, rushed
directly upon them. The artillery-men at once opened their cannons upon
them, while the musketeers and crossbow-men kept up a continual fire,
literally cutting down the multitude in heaps. Still the raging
Tlascalans pushed onward without fear, and succeeded, for a moment, in
breaking through the Spanish lines. It required all the courage and
skill of Cortes to bring his men back to their position. The cavalry now
rushed over the plain, sweeping down masses before them. Yet the brave
Tlascalans pressed on with their numbers. Wherever a man fell dead, it
seemed another arose with fiercer spirit to revenge his death. Thus the
battle raged furiously on both sides. At length it was seen by the
Tlascalans that one of their divisions kept out of the fight, nor could
be pressed into it--the chief who headed it being provoked with
Xicotencatl. This discouraged them: they began to fall back, when one
of their principal chiefs fell dead, and they were completely
dismayed--the battle was ended. But for these circumstances, with all
his skill and courage, Cortes had hardly prevailed against such numbers.
It is very remarkable that in this fierce struggle the Spaniards had
only one man killed. Seventy of their men, however, together with all
their horses, were wounded. Some died of their wounds afterwards.
On the next morning, Cortes sent another message to the Tlascalans,
demanding that he should be allowed to pass quietly through their
territory, and threatening to desolate their whole country if they
refused. But their fierce chiefs were not frightened: they did not yet
feel that they were conquered, and determined to try his strength again.
They now called together their priests, and demanded of them what could
be the cause of their terrible defeat, and in what way they were to
drive the invaders from their country. After performing many rites and
sacrifices, the priests came forward and declared that the Spaniards
were men like themselves, but were created by the heat of the sun in the
regions of the East; that during the day they were not to be conquered,
because they were guarded by the sun: at night they were not thus
protected, and might then be easily overcome.
The Tlascalans made ready again. Numbers soon gathered themselves, under
the command of Xicotencatl, for an attack at night. As they drew near
the Spanish camp, the sentinels marked them, the alarm was given, the
cavalry rushed forth, and after another fight the astonished Tlascalans
fled in dismay. They were now convinced that the Spaniards were
_Teules_--the multitudes began to cry out that it was time to make
peace; that the Spaniards were invincible. Another fierce message came
from Cortes, and the senate was willing to have peace. Xicotencatl, in a
rage, refused for a long time to come to any terms; he was not used to
being conquered; but at last his proud spirit bent, and he consented to
lay down his arms.
They were now at a loss to settle how they should approach the Spanish
chief; they did not know what to think of him. He must be gentle and
kind, for he sometimes released his prisoners of war, contrary to their
way of sacrificing and eating them; then again they thought he must be
cruel and bloodthirsty, for they remembered that fifty spies sent out by
Xicotencatl had once approached his camp too closely, and, by his order,
their hands were instantly cut off. Then, too, his fierce messages, and
the tremendous slaughter that he had made among them, were calculated to
frighten them. At length, forty of their chief men were started off,
loaded with a variety of presents, some of which they hoped might please
him, whatever he might be. As they came near, one of them advanced to
Cortes, and said: “If you are _Teules_, as it is said, and desire human
sacrifices, take the flesh of these slaves and eat: shed their blood and
drink. If you are gods of a kind nature, here is a gift of incense and
feathers; and if you are men, we bring you meat and bread for your
nourishment.” Soon after this, a large number of Tlascalans were seen
approaching. Cortes supposed that they were coming for purposes of
peace, yet instantly ordered his men to arms. Four of them now came
forward with marks of profound respect, and offered him incense. They
came, on the part of the Tlascalan senate, to make peace with him and
his people. The Tlascalans (they declared) had opposed them only because
they thought they were the friends of the cruel tyrant Montezuma, and
were now sorry for it: they begged that they might be taken under the
protection of Cortes. The Spanish chief quickly accepted their terms,
and offered his protection and friendship to the whole republic. On the
23d of September (thirty-four days after reaching their territory), he
triumphantly entered the city of Tlascala, the capital of their empire.
It was fortunate for Cortes that the war was thus ended, for some of his
men were beginning to be dissatisfied; they had borne very cruel
hardships. Every night half of them were on guard, while the other half
only slept on their armor, ready to start up at any cry of danger.
Fifty-five had perished since they entered the country, many were sick
with diseases of the climate, and many were suffering from their wounds.
Cortes was himself unwell, though he did not confess it. The number and
fierceness of the Tlascalans, while it surprised all, had alarmed some,
and these lived in the continual fear that they would be taken and
sacrificed to the gods. It is not surprising, therefore, that murmurings
commenced, and that many begged that they might return to Cuba. But when
the Tlascalans surrendered, all were animated with new courage. Then the
earnest friendship and submission of the Tlascalans (for Cortes was
received very warmly in their capital) roused their drooping spirits the
more. It is said that these Indians even reverenced the Spaniards now,
saying that they were born in heaven. Certain it is that the horses and
riders were looked upon as supernatural monsters: they believed that
these monsters devoured men in battle, and that the neighing of the
horses was their call for prey. Even when all was explained to them,
they still held this belief. Their kindness and fears together drove
away all discontent from the murmurers. No man sighed longer for the
home left behind: all were greedy for the glory before them.
The submission of the Tlascalans prompted Cortes to speak to them about
giving up their religion, with all its bloody rites; for, strange as it
may seem when we look at some of his acts, Cortes never lost sight of
the thought that the spread of the gospel was a part of the business of
his enterprise. The Tlascalans refused, saying that while “the God of
the Spaniards might be very great, they trusted in the gods of their
forefathers.” Upon this he was angry, and instantly prepared to carry
out such a plan as before in the temple at Chempoalla. But Father Olmedo
entreated that this might not be done. He declared that this was not the
way to spread the gospel, and that he had looked on with horror at the
scene in Chempoalla. Alvarado, Velasquez de Leon, and Lugo joined in the
entreaty, and Cortes was at last persuaded not to attempt it. His anger,
however, served one good purpose. In the temples there were some poor
wretches kept in cages, fattening for sacrifices, and Cortes caused all
these to be set free.
Having allowed his men sufficient time to rest at Tlascala, Cortes
determined to resume his march for Mexico. Some Mexicans now came
forward and urged him to march through Cholula, a large town, where he
would be kindly received. But the Tlascalans were opposed to this; they
declared that the Cholulans were a treacherous people, devoted entirely
to the interests of Montezuma, and that he would necessarily find
himself there in the midst of enemies. Still Cortes resolved to pass
through Cholula. He was anxious to please the Mexicans, and at the same
time to teach the Tlascalans that he feared no enemy, whether concealed
or open. With six thousand Tlascalans, therefore, in addition to his
former numbers, he started for Cholula.
This town of Cholula was greatly celebrated for the temple of
Quetzalcoatl that stood there. It was looked upon as the most sacred
temple of the empire. Multitudes of pilgrims continually went there, and
the sacrifices were almost daily. It is said that the Indians believed
that this temple was built over secret springs of water, and that by
pulling it down, these springs would burst forth into great rivers, and
flood the whole surrounding country.[8] Some have supposed that this
belief prompted the Mexicans to advise Cortes to go there: the secret
springs of Quetzalcoatl were to be let loose, and prove the sure
destruction of himself and his army.
As Cortes came near this town, the chiefs and priests marched out to
meet him, bearing censers in their hands, and accompanied by a band of
music. They received the Spaniards with profound respect; but when they
saw the Tlascalans, they told Cortes plainly that all might enter their
city except these, their old and bitter enemies. Cortes did not object
to this; and at once ordering the Tlascalans to remain encamped outside,
with great ceremony he entered Cholula. It was not a great while now
before he began to be dissatisfied, and to suspect that the Tlascalans
were right as to the character of these people; supplies of provisions
began to be scantily furnished, and at last the Spaniards were left with
nothing but wood and water. Ere long, some of the Chempoallans came to
him and said that they had found secret pitfalls near the Spanish camp.
These were large holes dug in the ground, having sharp stakes at the
bottom, and covered over loosely with earth. Then some of the Tlascalans
entered the city in disguise, and informed him that they had seen large
numbers of women and children, loaded with valuable things, leaving the
city by night; moreover, that six children had just been sacrificed in
the temple, and this was a sure sign that the Cholulans intended
something. Besides this, they had observed that many stones and darts
had been collected on the tops of the temples. All this roused his
suspicions very strongly. At length, Doña Marina came to him with
certain information. She had learned the whole plan of the conspiracy.
It seems that a Cholulan lady of high rank had become attached to her,
and, desirous of saving Her life, told her of the plot, that she might
escape. Twenty thousand Mexicans were at a short distance from the city,
ready at a certain signal to join the Cholulans in the general massacre
of the Spaniards. Cortes instantly ordered some of the chief priests to
be seized; and when they discovered that the Spaniards, or _Teules_, as
they called them, knew everything, they confessed the whole. The enmity
and treachery of the Cholulans were now certain.
In his indignation and rage, at the first moment, Cortes was at a loss
what to do; at the next, he resolved upon signal vengeance. No time was
to be lost. His principal officers were at once called together and told
of the danger which threatened them, and his determination to be
revenged. Some were for retreating to Tlascala, but most of them were
ready heart and hand to join Cortes in his plan. He immediately ordered
the Tlascalans to storm the city at the dawn of the next day, and to
spare nothing but the women and children; and then informed the
Cholulans that he intended to resume his march on the following morning.
These last were greatly delighted on hearing this, and they made haste
to carry out their plot. At the break of day, the chiefs, with forty
Cholulans, came into the open square in front of the Spanish encampment,
and presently an immense number of troops rushed in and joined them.
Cortes now mounted his horse and addressed them, telling them of the
blackness and extent of their treachery. He knew all about it: the
Spaniards (he said) had entered their city under a promise of
friendship, and since their entrance had not done one unkind act towards
the Cholulans; that they had behaved peaceably, and in every way proved
that they meant no harm; that at their request he had even ordered a
part of his army (the Tlascalans) to keep outside of the city; and he
now understood very well what they meant by that request--it was only
made to separate the Spaniards from their friends, that they might the
more easily destroy them. “If (cried Cortes) you had a natural hatred to
men from whom you had received no wrong, why not oppose us manfully and
bravely in the field, like the Tlascalans, instead of resorting to means
so cowardly and so treacherous to show your hatred and effect our
destruction? The victory which your gods have promised you, is beyond
their power; the bloody sacrifices which you expected to offer up to
them, cannot be accomplished; and the end of this dark plot will only be
to turn the intended ruin against the guilty heads of its contrivers.”
The chiefs were completely confounded; they did not deny what he said,
but at once commenced making excuses, saying that all was done by the
order of Montezuma. But Cortes would have no excuse. He instantly
ordered a musket to be fired; this was the signal to his men. The
Spaniards sprang upon them, and the slaughter commenced; the whole
square was soon a scene of horror. Multitudes were slain upon the spot,
while some who fled only fell into the hands of the enraged Tlascalans,
who were now pouring into the city. Some rushed to the temple of
Quetzalcoatl and razed it to the ground, hoping that the waters would
burst out and drown the Spaniards. But the rivers would not flow. They
were in despair. Other temples were filled with crowds, entreating the
gods to save them. The Spaniards now sallied from their quarters, and
swept the streets with their artillery, literally piling them with the
dead. Then they rushed to the temples, and demanded the poor wretches
there to surrender. A proud and scornful answer was sent back to the
summons: the temples were soon wrapped in flames; the Spaniards pressed
on, and fire and sword soon completed the massacre. It is said that only
one man surrendered; the rest choosing even to perish in the flames, or
to throw themselves from the tops of the temples. Cholula was desolate:
the streets rolled with the blood of six thousand men; dead bodies and
half-burnt corpses lay scattered throughout them.
This horrid slaughter being ended, the Spaniards and Tlascalans now
commenced plundering the houses and stripping the temples of all that
was left. The savage ferocity of these last was almost beyond bounds. At
length the heart of Cortes was moved with pity; he looked upon the scene
of havoc with horror. He now ordered Xicotencatl, who was there with
twenty thousand men, to leave the place, as he should need him no
longer; and then issued his proclamation, promising pardon to all who
had escaped the massacre, and inviting them to return to their homes.
Some were now seen creeping from the masses of the dead, where they had
lain wounded, and women and children came in from the mountains where
they had fled. The Tlascalans were made to deliver up all their
prisoners, and peace was established between them and the Cholulans,
Cortes then appointed a brother of the late Cacique (who had been killed
in the massacre) to rule over the city, and in sorrow declared to the
Cholulans who were left, that the treacherous conduct of their people
had alone forced him to this terrible work of slaughter.
Well might Cortes be sorry for what was done. Six thousand of his
fellow-beings lay butchered before him.[9] All that can be said for him
is, that he may have thought his conduct necessary for his own safety,
and perhaps the Tlascalans carried the slaughter further than he
intended. Yet this, which is all, is but a poor excuse for him. Perhaps
it was his sorrow which prompted him earnestly to beg the Cholulans to
leave off their bloody sacrifices and receive the Christian religion,
and when they refused, to violate their temples no further than by
setting free the poor wretches fastened in the cages for sacrifices.