It was on the 7th of November, 1519, that the Spaniards arrived at
Iztapalapan; and here they spent the night, lodged in magnificent
palaces built of stone, the timber of which was cedar. From this
position the eye could sweep over the whole expanse of the Tezcucan
lake. Canoes of all sizes might be seen skimming along its surface,
either near the middle, or close to the banks, where the thick woods
came down to the water’s edge. Here also, moving slowly along the
margin of the lake, might be seen a still stranger sight――the
_chinampas_, or floating-gardens――little islands consisting of earth
laid on rafts, planted with flowers, shrubs, and fruit-trees, and
containing a small hut or cottage in the centre, occupied by the
proprietor, who, by the means of a long pole, which he pushed against
the bottom, could shift his little domain from place to place. But
what fixed the eyes of the Spaniards above all else was the glittering
spectacle which rose from the centre of the lake――the queenly city of
Mexico, the goal of their hopes and wishes for many months past. In a
few hours they would be within its precincts――a few hundred men shut
up in the very heart of the great Mexican empire! What might be their
fate there!
The islet on which Mexico was built was connected with the mainland by
three distinct causeways of stone, constructed with incredible labor
and skill across the lake, and intersected at intervals by
drawbridges, through which canoes might pass and repass with ease. The
causeway by which the Spaniards must pass connected the island with
the southern bank of the lake, about half way across to which it
branched off into two lines, one leading to the city of Cojohuacan,
the other meeting the mainland at a point not far from Iztapalapan,
where the Spaniards were quartered. This causeway was about eight
yards wide, and capable of accommodating ten or twelve horsemen riding
abreast. It was divided, as before-mentioned, by several drawbridges;
a circumstance which the Spaniards observed with no small alarm, for
they saw that, by means of these drawbridges, their communication with
the mainland could be completely cut off by the Mexicans.
On the morning of the 8th of November, 1519, the army left
Iztapalapan, and advanced along the causeway towards the capital.
First went Cortez, with his small body of horse; next came the Spanish
foot, amounting to not more than four hundred men; after them came the
Indian _tamanes_, carrying the baggage; and last of all came the
Tlascalan warriors, to the number of about five thousand. As they
moved along the causeway, the inhabitants of the city crowded in
myriads to gaze at them, some finding standing-room on the causeway
itself, others skimming along the lakes in canoes, and clambering up
the sides of the causeway. A little more than half way across, and at
a distance of a mile and a half from the city, the branch of the
causeway on which the Spaniards were marching was joined by the other
branch; and here the causeway widened for a small space, and a fort or
gateway was erected, called the Fort of Xoloc. On arriving at the
gateway, the army was met by a long procession of Aztec nobles, richly
clad, who came to announce the approach of the emperor himself to
welcome the Spaniards to his capital. Accordingly, when the remainder
of the causeway had been almost traversed, and the van of the army was
near the threshold of the city, a train was seen advancing along the
great avenue. ‘Amidst a crowd of Indian nobles, preceded by three
officers of state bearing golden wands, the Spaniards saw the royal
palanquin of Montezuma, blazing with burnished gold. It was borne on
the shoulders of nobles, and over it a canopy of gaudy featherwork,
powdered with jewels, and fringed with silver, and was supported by
four attendants of the same rank. They were barefooted, and walked
with a slow measured pace, and with eyes bent on the ground. When the
train had come within a convenient distance, it halted; and Montezuma,
descending from his litter, came forward, leaning on the arms of the
lords of Tezcuco and Iztapalapan――the one his nephew, the other his
brother. As the monarch advanced under the canopy, the obsequious
attendants strewed the ground with cotton tapestry, that his imperial
feet might not be contaminated by the rude soil. His subjects, of high
and low degree, who lined the sides of the causeway, bent forward with
their eyes fastened on the ground as he passed, and some of the
humbler class prostrated themselves before him.’
Cortez and the Mexican emperor now stood before each other. When
Cortez was told that the great Montezuma approached, he dismounted
from his horse, and advanced towards him with much respect. Montezuma
bade him welcome, and Cortez replied with a suitable compliment. After
some ceremonies, and the exchange of presents, Montezuma and his
courtiers withdrew, the Spaniards following. Advancing into the city,
wondering at all they saw――the long streets, the houses which, in the
line along which they passed, belonged mostly to the noble and wealthy
Mexicans, built of red stone, and surmounted with parapets or
battlements; the canals which here and there intersected the streets,
crossed by bridges; and the large open squares which occurred at
intervals――the Spaniards were conducted to their quarters, situated in
an immense square in the centre of the city, adjoining the temple of
the great Mexican war-god. Montezuma was waiting to receive them; and
the Spaniards were surprised and delighted with the princely
generosity with which he supplied their wants.
Next day Cortez paid a visit to Montezuma in his palace, attended by
some of his principal officers. In the conversation which ensued,
Cortez broached the topic of religion, and informed Montezuma ‘that we
were all brothers, the children of Adam and Eve, and that as such, our
emperor, lamenting the loss of souls in such numbers as those which
were brought by the Mexican idols into everlasting flames, had sent us
to apply a remedy thereto by putting an end to the worship of these
false gods.’ These remarks seemed to displease Montezuma, who,
however, made a polite reply. Day after day the intercourse between
Cortez and Montezuma was renewed; the Spanish soldiers also became
gradually familiar with the Mexicans. Bernal Diaz, the old soldier of
Cortez, to whom we are indebted for the most minute and interesting
account of the Conquest, thus describes Montezuma and his household:
‘The great Montezuma was at this time aged about forty years, of good
stature, well-proportioned, and thin; his complexion was much fairer
than that of the Indians; he wore his hair short, just covering his
ears, with very little beard, well arranged, thin, and black. His face
was rather long, with a pleasant countenance, and good eyes; gravity
and good-humor were blended together when he spoke. He was very
delicate and clean in his person, bathing himself every evening. He
had a number of mistresses of the first families, and two princesses,
his lawful wives. He had two hundred of his nobility as a guard, in
apartments adjoining his own. They entered his apartment barefooted,
their eyes fixed on the ground, and making three inclinations of the
body as they approached him. In addressing him, they said, ‘Lord; my
lord; great lord.’ His cooks had upward of thirty different ways of
dressing meat, and they had earthen vessels so contrived as to keep it
always hot. For the table of Montezuma himself above three hundred
dishes were dressed, and for his guards above a thousand. It is said
that at times the flesh of young children was dressed for him; but the
ordinary meats were domestic fowls, pheasants, geese, partridges,
quails, venison, Indian hogs, pigeons, hares, and rabbits, with many
other animals and birds peculiar to the country. At his meals, in the
cold weather, a number of torches of the bark of a wood which makes no
smoke, and has an aromatic smell, were lighted; and, that they might
not throw too much heat, screens ornamented with gold, and painted
with figures of idols, were placed before them. Montezuma was seated
on a low throne or chair, at a table proportioned to the height of his
seat. The table was covered with white cloths and napkins, and four
beautiful women presented him with water for his hands. Then two other
women brought small cakes of bread; and when the king began to eat, a
large screen of wood gilt was placed before him, so that people should
not, during that time, see him. He was served on earthenware of
Cholula, red and black. While the king was at table, no one of his
guards, or in the vicinity of his apartment, dared for their lives
make any noise. Fruit of all the kinds that the country produced was
laid before him; he ate very little; but from time to time a liquor,
prepared from cocoa, and of a stimulative quality, as we were told,
was presented to him in golden cups. At different intervals during the
time of dinner there entered certain Indians, hump-backed, very
deformed and ugly, who played tricks of buffoonery; and others who,
they said, were jesters. There was also a company of singers and
dancers, who afforded Montezuma much entertainment. During the time
Montezuma was at dinner, two very beautiful women were busily employed
making small cakes with eggs, and other things mixed therein. These
were delicately white; and when made, they presented them to him on
plates covered with napkins. After he had dined, they presented to him
three little canes, highly ornamented, containing liquid amber, mixed
with an herb they call _tobacco_; and when he had sufficiently viewed
and heard the singers, dancers, and buffoons, he took a little of the
smoke of one of these canes, and then laid himself down to sleep; and
thus his principal meal concluded.’
After describing other parts of Montezuma’s household, including a
great aviary or collection of birds, and a menagerie, the chronicler
gives us an account of Cortez’s first tour through the city,
accompanied by Montezuma. They first visited the great bazaar or
market, held in the western part of the city. ‘When we arrived there,
we were astonished at the crowds of people, and the regularity which
prevailed, as well as at the vast quantities of merchandise which
those who attended us were assiduous in pointing out. Each kind had
its particular place of sale, which was distinguished by a sign. The
articles consisted of gold, silver, jewels, feathers, mantles,
chocolate, skins, dressed and undressed, sandals, and other
manufactures of the roots and fibres of nequen, and great numbers of
male and female slaves, some of whom were fastened by the neck in
collars to long poles. The meat market was stocked with fowls, game,
and dogs. Vegetables, fruits, articles of food ready dressed, salt,
bread, honey, and sweet pastry made in various ways, were also sold
here. Other places in the square were appropriated to the sale of
earthenware, wooden household furniture, such as tables and benches,
firewood, paper, sweet canes filled with tobacco, mixed with liquid
amber, copper axes and working-tools, and wooden vessels highly
painted. Numbers of women sold fish, and little loaves made of a
certain mud which they find in the lake, and which resembles cheese.
The makers of stone-blades were busily employed shaping them out of
the rough material; and the merchants who dealt in gold had the metal
in grains, as it came from the mines, in transparent tubes, so that
they could be reckoned; and the gold was valued at so many mantles, or
so many xiquipils of cocoa, according to the size of the quills. The
entire square was enclosed in piazzas, under which great quantities of
grain were stored, and where were also shops for various kinds of
goods. Courts of justice, where three judges sat to settle disputes
which might arise in the market, occupied a part of the square, their
under-officers, or policemen, being in the market inspecting the
merchandise.’
Proceeding from the market-place through various parts of the city,
the Spaniards came to the great _teocalli_, or temple, in the
neighborhood of their own quarters. It was a huge pyramidal structure,
consisting of five stories, narrowing above each other like the tubes
of an extended spy-glass (only square in shape), so as to leave a
clear pathway round the margin of each story. The ascent was by means
of a stone stair, of a hundred and fourteen steps. Arrived at the
summit, Cortez and his companions found it to be a large flat area,
laid with stone; at one end of which they shuddered as they saw a
block of jasper, which they were told was the stone on which the human
victims were laid when the priests tore out their hearts to offer to
their idols: at the other end was a tower of three stories, in which
were the images of the two great Mexican deities Huitzilopochtli and
Tezcatlipoca, and a variety of articles pertaining to their worship.
‘From the top of the temple,’ says Bernal Diaz, ‘we had a clear
prospect of the three causeways by which Mexico communicated with the
land, and we could now perceive that in this great city, and all the
others of the neighborhood which were built in the water, the houses
stood separate from each other, communicating only by small
drawbridges and by boats, and that they were built with terraced tops.
The noise and bustle of the market-place below us could be heard
almost a league off; and those who had been at Rome and Constantinople
said that, for convenience, regularity, and population, they had never
seen the like.’ At the request of Cortez, Montezuma, though with
apparent reluctance, led the Spaniards into the sanctuary or tower
where the gods were. ‘Here,’ says Diaz, ‘were two altars, highly
adorned with richly-wrought timbers on the roof, and over the altars
gigantic figures resembling very fat men. The one on the right was
their war-god, with a great face and terrible eyes. This figure was
entirely covered with gold and jewels, and his body bound with golden
serpents; in his right hand he held a bow, and in his left a bundle of
arrows. Before the idol was a pan of incense, with three hearts of
human victims, which were burning, mixed with copal. The whole of that
apartment, both walls and floor, was stained with human blood in such
quantity as to cause a very offensive smell. On the left was the other
great figure, with a countenance like a bear, and great shining eyes
of the polished substance whereof their mirrors are made. The body of
this idol was also covered with jewels. An offering lay before him of
five human hearts. In this place was a drum of most enormous size, the
head of which was made of the skins of large serpents: this
instrument, when struck, resounded with a noise that could be heard to
the distance of two leagues, and so doleful, that it deserved to be
named the music of the infernal regions.’
This state of things could not last. Cortez, of course, had no
intention of leaving Mexico, now that he had made good his quarters in
it; but as it was not to be expected that Montezuma and his subjects
would continue their friendly intercourse with him if they supposed
that he purposed to remain, he saw the necessity of taking some
decided step to secure himself and his men against any outbreak which
might occur. The step which he resolved upon in his own mind was the
seizure of Montezuma. By having him in their power, he would be able,
he imagined, to maintain a control over the whole population of the
city――amounting, it is believed, to nearly three hundred thousand. Nor
was a pretext wanting to give an appearance of justice to the daring
act which they contemplated. Cortez had just received intelligence
that a battle had been fought between the garrison which he had left
at Villa Rica, and a body of Mexicans under the command of the Mexican
governor of a province adjacent to the Spanish settlement. Although
Cortez cared little for this occurrence, he resolved to avail himself
of it for his purpose; so, after a night spent in prayer for the
blessing of God on what he was about to do, he proceeded with five of
his officers and the two interpreters, Donna Marina and Aguilar, to
Montezuma’s palace. The monarch, as usual, received him kindly; but
when Cortez, after upbraiding him with being the cause of the attack
made on the Spanish garrison of Villa Rica, as well as with the
attempt made by the Cholulans to arrest his own progress towards
Mexico, informed him that he had come to make him prisoner, he could
no longer contain him self, but gave full vent to his rage and
astonishment. But the rage of an Indian prince was impotent against
the stern resolutions of the European general; and as the helpless
monarch gazed on the unyielding countenances of his visitors, whose
fingers were playing with the hilts of their swords, his anger changed
into terror: he was seized with a fit of trembling, and the tears
gushed into his eyes. Without any resistance, he was removed in his
royal litter to the Spanish quarters, giving it out to his nobles and
subjects that he went voluntarily, on a visit to Cortez, and desiring
them to remain quiet.
Another degradation awaited the unhappy monarch. He was obliged to
surrender the governor and three other chiefs, who had led the attack
on the garrison of Villa Rica; and these were burned alive, by the
orders of Cortez, in front of Montezuma’s palace, the emperor himself
being kept in irons while the execution was going on.
All this took place within ten days of the arrival of the Spaniards in
Mexico; and for three or four months Montezuma continued a prisoner in
the Spanish quarters. Here he was attended with the most profound
respect, Cortez himself never approaching him without taking off his
cap, and punishing severely every attempt on the part of any of his
soldiers to insult the royal captive. Such instances, however, were
very rare; for the kindly demeanor of Montezuma, his gentleness under
his misfortunes, and, above all, his liberality to those about him,
won the hearts of the Spaniards, and made him a general favorite. Nor
did Montezuma make any attempt to regain his liberty. Attended by his
officers as usual, he received deputations, and transacted business;
amused himself by various Mexican games, and appeared to delight in
the society of some of the Spaniards, for whom he had contracted a
particular partiality.
The Spanish general was now absolute in Anahuac; Montezuma acted under
his instructions; and officers were sent out in different directions
to survey the country, and ascertain the situation and extent of the
gold and silver mines, as if all belonged to the king of Spain. Nor
was the formal cession of the kingdom by Montezuma long delayed.
Assembling all his nobles at the instigation of Cortez, the Indian
monarch addressed them, desiring them to concur with him in
surrendering their empire to the Spaniards, who were to come from the
rising sun. ‘“For eighteen years,” he said, “that I have reigned, I
have been a kind monarch to you, and you have been faithful subjects
to me; indulge me, then, with this last act of obedience.” The
princes, with many sighs and tears, promised Montezuma, who was still
more affected, that they would do whatever he desired. He then sent a
message to Cortez, telling him that, on the ensuing day, he and his
princes would tender their allegiance to his majesty, our emperor.
This they accordingly did at the time appointed, in the presence of
all our officers and many of our soldiers, not one of whom could
refrain from weeping on beholding the agitation and distress of the
great and generous Montezuma.’
Montezuma accompanied the surrender of his kingdon with the gift of an
immense treasure, which he had concealed in an apartment within their
quarters, desiring it to be sent to Spain, as tribute-money to King
Charles from his vassal Montezuma. The sight of this treasure roused
the avaricious passions of the Spanish soldiers, and they clamored for
a division of the wealth which had been collected since their entrance
into Mexico, Cortez was obliged to yield to their demand. The whole
wealth amassed during their residence in Mexico amounted, according to
Mr. Prescott’s calculation, to about seven millions of dollars of our
money, including not only the gold cast into ingots, but also the
various articles of jewelry, which were of too fine workmanship to be
melted down. The mode of division was this:――First, his majesty’s
fifth was set aside; next, a fifth of the remainder was set aside for
Cortez; after that, all the debts of the expedition were to be
discharged, excluding the amount vested in the expedition by
Velasquez, the payment of agents in Spain, etc.; then the losses
incurred in the expedition were to be made good, including the expense
of the ships sunk off Villa Rica, the price of the horses killed,
etc.; and lastly, certain individuals in the army, as the clergyman
and the captains, were to receive larger allowances than the rest. ‘By
the time all these drafts were made,’ says Bernal Diaz, ‘what remained
for each soldier was hardly worth stooping for;’ in other words,
instead of amounting to two or three thousand pounds, as they had
expected, each soldier’s share came only to about three hundred
pounds. Many refused to take their shares, complaining of injustice in
the division, and it required all the skill and management of Cortez
to soothe the spirits of the discontented. Not a few, it appeared in
the end, were no richer for all the prize money they had obtained than
when they left Cuba; for, as Bernal Diaz tells us, ‘deep gaming went
on day and night with cards made out of the heads of drums.’
Only one source of discomfort now remained to Cortez. This was the
continuance of the idolatrous worship of the Mexicans. This subject
occupied his thoughts incessantly; and he could not persuade himself
that his efforts would be meritorious in the eyes of God, or even that
he could hope for permanent success, until the false gods of the
Mexicans had been shattered in pieces, and their temples converted
into Christian sanctuaries. Not only as a devout Catholic did he
abominate the existence of a false worship in a country over which he
had control, but, as a man, as a native of a civilized country, he
shrunk in abhorrence from the bloody and sickening rites which formed
part of the religion of the Mexicans――their human sacrifices――accompanied
strangely enough, among a people so polished and so advanced in
ingenious arts, by the practice of cannibalism. At length Cortez
announced to Montezuma that he must allow at least a part of the great
temple to be converted into a Christian place of worship. Montezuma
had been a priest, and the proposal was perhaps the most shocking that
could have been made to him. He gave his consent, however, and one of
the sanctuaries on the top of the temple was purified, and an altar
and a crucifix erected in it.
This last act filled up the measure of Mexican endurance. To see
their monarch a prisoner, to surrender their kingdom and its
treasures――these they could submit to; but could they sit tamely under
an insult offered to their gods? Hither and thither though the city
ran the priests, with haggard faces, and hair clotted with blood,
stirring up the zeal of the inhabitants, and denouncing woes unless
the Spaniards were expelled. The crisis was imminent, and every
possible precaution was used to prevent a sudden surprise by the
excited Mexicans.
It was now the month of May, 1520, and the Spaniards had been six
months in the Mexican capital. Suddenly the little army was thrown
into consternation by intelligence of an unexpected kind received by
Cortez.
It will be remembered that, before advancing into the interior of the
country, Cortez had dispatched a vessel to Spain with letters to the
emperor, Charles V, and a quantity of treasures. Contrary to the
instructions of Cortez, the vessel touched at Cuba on its voyage; and
a sailor escaping, conveyed to Velasquez an account of all that had
taken place in the expedition, down to the foundation of Villa Rica.
The rage of Velasquez exceeded all bounds. He wrote letters to the
home government, and also to the court of colonial affairs established
in Hispaniola; and not content with this, he instantly began to fit
out a second expedition, which was to proceed to Mexico, depose or
decapitate Cortez, and seize the country for the Spanish sovereign in
the name of the governor of Cuba. The fleet was larger, with one
exception, than any yet fitted out for the navigation of the seas of
the new world. It consisted of nineteen vessels, carrying upwards of a
thousand foot soldiers, twenty cannons, eighty horsemen, a hundred and
sixty musketeers and cross-bowmen, besides a thousand Indian
servants――a force sufficient, as it seemed, to render all resistance
on the part of Cortez hopeless. Velasquez at first intended to command
the expedition in person; but, as he was too old and too unwieldy for
such a laborious task, he intrusted it to Don Pamfilo de Narvaez,
described as a man, about forty-two years of age, of tall stature, and
large limbs, full face, red beard, and agreeable presence; very
sonorous and lofty in his speech, as if the sound came out of a vault;
a good horseman, and said to be valiant.’
The fleet anchored off the coast of Mexico, at St. Juan de Ulua, on
the 23d of April, 1520. Here Narvaez received information which
astonished him――that Cortez was master of the Mexican capital; that
the Mexican emperor was his prisoner; that the country and its
treasures had been surrendered to the Spanish sovereign; and that at
present his rival was as absolute in it as if he were its monarch.
This information only increased his anxiety to come to a collision
with Cortez; and, with singular imprudence, he went about among the
Indians, declaring, in a blustering manner, that Cortez was a rebel
against his sovereign, and that he had come to chastise him, and to
set Montezuma free.
Narvaez’s first step was to send three messengers, one of them a
priest, to the garrison of Villa Rica, to summon them to surrender.
The commandant of the garrison, appointed shortly after the death of
Juan de Escalante, was Gonsalvo de Sandoval, a young officer, a native
of the same town as Cortez, and who had already won the esteem of his
general and of the whole army by his valor and services. When the
messengers of Narvaez, arriving at Villa Rica, presented a copy of
Narvaez’s commission, and summoned the garrison to surrender,
Sandoval, without any ceremony, caused them to be seized, strapped to
the backs of Indian porters, and instantly sent across the country to
Mexico in charge of one or two soldiers, who carried a note to Cortez,
informing him of what had happened. Cortez, after thoroughly gaining
them over by kind words and presents, sent them back to sow the seeds
of dissension in Narvaez’s army. At the same time he entered into a
correspondence with Narvaez, which led to no definite result. As there
was great danger that Narvaez would succeed in alienating the
Cempoallans from Cortez, if he were permitted to remain in his present
position, Cortez resolved to leave Mexico with a part of his men,
march to the sea-coast, and, if necessary, give battle to Narvaez.
This was a perilous step; but, in the circumstances, it was absolutely
necessary.
Leaving a garrison of a hundred and forty men in Mexico, under the
command of Pedro de Alvarado, who appeared by far the fittest person
for so responsible a post, Cortez set out with the rest of his force,
amounting to less than two hundred soldiers, only five of whom were
cavalry, and by rapid marches reached the Totonac territories, where
he was reinforced by Sandoval and his small body of men. Altogether,
Cortez’s army did not amount to more than a fifth part of that of
Narvaez. They were veterans in service, however, and, under such a
leader as Cortez, were prepared to attempt impossibilities. Narvaez,
in the meantime, was in close quarters at Cempoalla, aware that his
rival was on his march, but little suspecting that he was so near. On
the night of the 26th of May, 1520, Cortez and his brave little band,
crossing with difficulty a swollen river which lay between them and
their countrymen, advanced stealthily towards Narvaez’s quarters,
surprised the sentinels, and shouting the watchword, ‘Espiritu Santo!’
dashed in among the half-awakened, half-armed foe. The struggle did
not last long; for Sandoval, with a small body of picked men,
springing up the stairs of the house where Narvaez was lodged,
succeeded, after a hand to hand fight with the general and his
followers, in making him prisoner, after he had lost an eye, and been
otherwise severely wounded. On learning the fall of their leader, the
rest yielded; and when daylight came, Cortez, ‘seated in an arm-chair,
with a mantle of an orange color thrown over his shoulders, and
surrounded by his officers and soldiers,’ received the salutations and
the oaths of allegiance of all the followers of Narvaez. In his
treatment of these new friends his usual policy was conspicuous: he
plied them with flatteries, and loaded them with gifts, till his own
veterans began to be envious. Thus, by a single bold stroke, which
cost him but a few men, Cortez had crushed a formidable enemy, and
increased his own force sixfold. Fortune favors the brave! His army
now amounted to thirteen hundred men, exclusive of the garrison he had
left in Mexico; and of these thirteen hundred nearly a hundred were
cavalry. With such a force, he might now prosecute his designs in
Mexico with every prospect of success, and bid defiance to all the
efforts of the Mexicans to regain their independence.
He was disagreeably roused from these self-congratulations by
intelligence from Mexico. Some difference had occurred between Pedro
de Alvarado and the Mexicans, in consequence of which the latter had
risen _en masse_, and were besieging the Spaniards in their quarters.
Without loss of time he commenced his march towards the capital,
leaving a hundred men at Villa Rica. At Tlascala he was joined by two
thousand of his faithful mountain allies; and the whole army then
pushed on for the Mexican valley, anxious to relieve Alvarado, whom
the Mexicans were now trying to reduce by blockade. On the 24th of
June they reached the great lake, and marched along the causeway
without opposition, but amidst an ominous stillness. Alvarado clasped
his general in his arms for joy; and now for the first time Cortez
learned the origin of the revolt. Alvarado, suspecting some conspiracy
among the Aztec nobles, had treacherously massacred a number of them
collected at a religious festival, and the inhabitants had risen to
take vengeance for the injury. Cortez sharply rebuked his officer for
his misconduct; but the evil was already done, and to punish Alvarado
would have been attended with no good effect. Moodily and bitterly,
therefore, Cortez expended his vexation on the unhappy Mexican
monarch, accusing him of being concerned in the insurrection, and
calling upon him to check it, and procure provisions for the
Spaniards. Montezuma complied as far as lay in his power: Cortez also
used his best endeavors to allay the storm; and for a while it
appeared as if their efforts were successful.
The calm was only temporary. The day after the arrival of Cortez, a
soldier, who had been sent on an errand by Cortez, returned breathless
and bloody to the Spanish quarters. He had been fallen upon by a
multitude of Mexicans, who endeavored to drag him away in their canoes
for sacrifice, and he had only escaped after a desperate struggle. The
whole city, he said, was in arms; the drawbridges were broken down:
and they would soon attack the Spaniards in their strong hold.
The news was too true. The Aztecs poured along the streets like a
flood, approaching the square where the Spaniards were lodged, while
the terraced roofs of all the houses in the vicinity were crowded with
slingers and archers, ready to shower their missiles upon the
besieged. And now commenced a struggle which lasted seven days and to
which there is no parallel in history. Day after day the fighting was
renewed, the Spaniards either making a sally upon the besiegers, or
beating them back when they advanced to storm or set fire to their
quarters. The only relaxation was at night, when the Mexicans
generally drew off. The Spaniards were always victorious; but their
losses were considerable in every action, and the perseverance of the
Mexicans alarmed them. Instead of yielding to their first defeats,
they seemed to act on the conviction that they must be defeated
continually until the Spaniards were all slain. This resolution
astonished Cortez, who till now had undervalued the courage of the
Aztecs. His soldiers, especially those who had come into the country
with Narvaez, heaped reproaches upon him; although when they saw his
conduct in the fray――the bravery with which he would spur his horse
into the thickest of the enemy, the generosity with which he would
risk his own life to rescue a comrade from the hands of a crowd of
Aztecs――their reproaches were lost in admiration.
Wearied out by his incessant efforts, and perceiving the hopelessness
of continuing a contest against so many myriads of enemies――for
recruits were flocking in from the neighboring country to assist the
Mexicans against the common foe――Cortez resolved to try the effects of
negotiation, and to employ Montezuma as his intercessor. At his
request, therefore, Montezuma, dressed in his imperial robes, appeared
on a terraced roof, where he was visible to the multitude gathered in
the great square. A silence ensued, and Montezuma was parleying with
four nobles who approached him, when suddenly a shower of stones and
arrows fell on the spot where he was standing. The Spanish soldiers
tried to interpose their bucklers; but it was too late; Montezuma fell
to the ground, his head bleeding from the effects of a blow with a
stone. He was immediately removed, and every means used for his
recovery: nor was the wound of itself dangerous. But his kingly spirit
had received a wound which no words could heal; he had been reviled
and struck by his own subjects, among whom hitherto he had walked as a
sacred being: he refused to live any longer. He tore the bandages from
his head, and rejected all nourishment; and in a short time the
Spaniards were informed that their unhappy prisoner was dead. Cortez
and many of the men could not refrain from weeping; and the body was
surrendered to the Mexicans with every testimony of respect.
The fighting was now commenced with greater fury, and prodigies of
valor were performed by the Spaniards; but all to no purpose. Another
attempt was made to induce the enemy to come to terms. The only answer
was the threat that they would all be sacrificed to the gods, and the
appalling information, ‘You cannot escape; the bridges are broken
down.’ At last, as death was before their eyes, it was determined by
Cortez, and all the officers and soldiers, to quit the city during the
night as they hoped at that time to find the enemy less alert.
Towards midnight, on the 1st of July 1520, they left their quarters
secretly, most of the soldiers loading themselves with the gold which
remained over and above the royal share, and proceeded as silently as
possible towards the western causeway leading to Tlacopan, by which,
as being the shortest of the three (two miles long), they thought it
would be the easiest to effect a passage. In this causeway there were
three drawbridges, separated by intervals nearly equal; and aware that
these had been destroyed by the Mexicans, Cortez had provided a
portable bridge, made of timber, the carriage of which he intrusted to
forty picked soldiers. The van of the army was led by Sandoval, with
two hundred foot and a body of horse under his command; the baggage,
large guns and prisoners came next, guarded by Cortez and a band of
veterans; and the rear was brought up by Pedro de Alvarado and
Valasquez de Leon, commanding the strength of the infantry.
The night was dark and rainy. The Spaniards reached the causeway
without being interrupted. The portable bridge was laid across the
first moat or gap, and a great part of the army had gone over it in
safety, and were already approaching the second gap, when, through the
stillness of the night, there was heard the boom of the great drum
from the top of the Mexican war temple, the rushing of myriads of
pursuers along the causeway from behind, and the splashing of the oars
of thousands of canoes full of warriors, which were advancing through
the lake on both sides of the causeway. Showers of arrows fell on the
rearguard as they were passing over the portable bridge; and the
Aztecs, clambering up the sides of the causeway, grappled with the
soldiers, and tried to drag them into the water. Throwing off these
assailants by main strength, Alvarado and his men steadily and
expeditiously moved on. Meanwhile the vanguard under Sandoval having
reached the second gap, were waiting until the portable bridge should
be brought up to enable them to cross it. Goaded with the arrows which
were discharged upon them in clouds from the Aztec canoes, they grew
impatient of the delay, and began to cast anxious glances backward
along the causeway for the appearance of the bridge. Suddenly the
appalling news was passed along that the bridge had stuck so fast at
the first opening that it could not be pulled up. The weight of the
men and heavy baggage crossing it had fastened it into the earth so
firmly as to defy extrication. When this awful intelligence reached
the vanguard, order and command were at an end; uproar and confusion
ensued; and, seized with the instinct of self-preservation, each man
tried to shift for himself. Flinging themselves headlong into the gap,
they struggled with the Mexican warriors in the water, upsetting their
canoes in their drowning agonies. Rank after rank followed, each
trampling upon the bodies of its predecessors, and floundering among
the canoes which lay between them and the opposite side. Sandoval and
a few of the cavalry swam their horses across; some of the foot also
were able to reach the side of the causeway and climb up; but of the
vanguard, the great majority were drowned, or slain, or carried off
wounded in the Mexican canoes. Meanwhile on came the rest of the army;
men, carriages, guns, baggage, all were swept into the trench, which
was soon choked up by the wreck. Over this bridge of broken wagons,
bales of cotton, and the dead bodies of their companions and enemies,
Cortez and his veterans were able to reach the other side of the
trench with less difficulty. Here, joining Sandoval and the few
survivors of his band, they dashed along the causeway towards the
third and last opening, regardless of the darts and arrows which the
Mexicans discharged among them from their canoes. Reaching the third
trench, they crossed it in the same manner as the last, but without so
much loss, and were rapidly approaching the mainland, when looking
back through the dim morning light, they saw Alvarado and his
rearguard pent up on the causeway between the second and third
bridges, and almost overborne by the Mexicans who surounded them.
Cortez, Sandoval, and a few of the horse instantly wheeled round to
the rescue; and recrossing the third gap, shouted their battle-cry,
and interposed between the Spaniards and their pursuers. This timely
succor enabled most of the infantry to escape; and at length all had
crossed the opening except Cortez, Sandoval, Alvarado, and a few
others. Cortez, Sandoval, and the rest soon followed, carried through
by their horses; and only one man remained upon the Mexican extremity
of the causeway. It was Pedro de Alvarado; his horse was slain; and he
was standing on the brink, surrounded by enemies ready drag him off,
should he plunge into the trench. Five or six warriors were already
advancing from behind to seize him, when, casting one glance at the
opposite edge where his countrymen were waiting him, he planted one
end of his long lance among the rubbish which choked up the gap, and,
rising in the air, cleared it at a bound. The spot where this
tremendous feat was executed still bears the name of _Alvarado’s
Leap_.
The Mexicans now desisted from the pursuit; and the relics of the
Spanish army, advancing along the remainder of the causeway, entered
Tlacopan. Here they did not remain long, being anxious to place
themselves beyond the reach of the Mexicans, and to arrive at
Tlascala, the city of their faithful allies. They were now able to
count the losses which they had sustained during the night. About four
hundred and fifty Spaniards, and nearly four thousand Tlascalans, had
been drowned, slain, or made prisoners during the passage along the
causeway; a loss which, added to the numbers killed in the battles
within the city, reduced the army to little more than a fourth of what
it had been when it entered Mexico ten days before. But the most
deplorable part was the loss of all the artillery, firearms, and
ammunition, not so much as a musket remaining among the five hundred
who survived. Still, under this accumulation of misfortunes, his heart
did not sink; and his resolution was taken not to leave the country
till he had regained his former footing in it, and annexed it as a
province to the dominions of his sovereign.
His first object was to reach Tlascala, where he might recruit the
strength of his men――almost all of whom were stiff with wounds――and
arrange his future proceedings. After many difficulties, and another
great battle, in which he defeated the Mexicans, he reached it on the
9th of July, 1520. They were kindly received by the generous
mountaineers, who withstood all the solicitations of the Mexican
sovereign, Cuitlahua, Montezuma’s brother and successor, that they
would assist him in driving the Spaniards out of the country.
It was early in autumn before Cortez left Tlascala. His intention was
first to punish several states of Anahuac which had revolted during
his absence in Mexico, especially the districts of Tepeaca and
Cachula; and then, after having reduced the whole country east of the
Mexican valley, to return to the capital itself, and take it by storm.
With a force so reduced as his, without cannons or other firearms,
this was an apparently hopeless enterprise; but _hopeless_ was a word
of which Cortez did not know the meaning. Fortunately, while engaged
in subduing the eastern districts of Anahuac, he received
reinforcements which he never anticipated. Velasquez, ignorant of the
fate of the expedition which he had sent under Narvaez, and supposing
that Cortez was by this time a prisoner in the hands of his rival, had
despatched a ship with stores, arms, and ammunition to the colony of
Villa Rica. The vessel touched at the port; the captain and his men
disembarked, suspecting nothing, and were instantly seized by the
officer of Cortez; nor did it require much persuasion to induce the
whole crew to enlist under the standard of a man of whom they had
heard so many eulogies. A second vessel sent by Velasquez soon
afterwards shared the same fate; three ships sent by the governor of
Jamaica to prosecute discoveries, and plant colonies in central
America, chancing also to land at Villa Rica, their crews joined the
army of Cortez; and lastly, a merchant vessel, loaded with provisions
and all the necessaries of war, arrived at the Mexican coast, and was
purchased by Cortez――sailors, cargo, and all.
Having completely subjugated all Anahuac to the east of the Mexican
valley, Cortez resolved to found a second Spanish colony in the
interior of the country, which should form a half-way station between
Villa Rica and the city of Mexico. The site chosen was Tepeaca, and
the name given to the settlement was Segura de la Frontera. From this
spot Cortez wrote a second letter to Charles V, giving an account of
the expedition from the date of the last letter down to the foundation
of Segura, and announcing his intention of marching immediately to
reconquer Mexico.
It was five months after the date of their expulsion from Mexico
before the Spaniards were in a condition once more to march against
it. Part of the necessary preparations consisted, as we have seen, in
the subjugation of those parts of Anahuac which adjoined the Mexican
valley on the east; but another cause of delay was the construction of
thirteen brigantines at Tlascala, under the direction of Martin Lopez,
a skillful shipwright, who had accompanied Cortez. These vessels were
to be taken to pieces, and transported, together with the iron-work
and cordage belonging to the ships which Cortez had destroyed off
Villa Rica, across the mountains to the great Mexican lake. At length
all was ready, and on the 28th of December 1520 the whole army left
Tlascala on its march towards Mexico. It consisted of about six
hundred Spaniards, with nine cannons, and forty horses, accompanied by
an immense multitude of native warriors, Tlascalans, Tepeacans, and
Cholulans, amounting probably to sixteen thousand men, besides the
_tamanes_, who were employed in transporting the brigantines.
Garrisons had of course been left at Villa Rica and Segura.
No opposition was offered to the invaders on their march, the Mexicans
fleeing at their approach; and on the 1st of January, 1521, they took
possession of the city of Tezcuco. Cuitlahua, Montezuma’s successor on
the throne, was now dead, and his place was occupied by his nephew,
Guatemozin, yet a young man, but the most heroic and patriotic of all
the Mexicans. The policy of Cortez was first to subdue all the states
and cities on the margin of the five lakes, so as to leave Mexico
without protection or assistance, and then to direct his whole force
to the final reduction of the capital. For four months, therefore,
Cortez, Sandoval, Alvarado, and his other officers were employed,
sometimes separately, sometimes in concert, in reconnoitering
expeditions into various parts of the Mexican valley――from Chalco, on
the banks of the southernmost, to Xaltocan, an island in the
northernmost lake. Scarcely a day of these four months was passed in
idleness; and it would require far more space than we can afford to do
justice to all the engagements in which the Spaniards were victorious,
or to all the feats of personal valor performed by Cortez, Alvarado,
Olid, Sandoval, and other brave cavaliers. Passing over these, as well
as the account of a conspiracy among his men, which the prudence and
presence of mind of Cortez enabled him to quash, and of the execution
of the Tlascalan chief, Xicotencatl, for deserting the Spaniards, we
hasten to the concluding scene.
On the 10th of May, 1521, the siege commenced. Alvarado, with a
hundred and fifty Spanish infantry, thirty cavalry, and eight thousand
Tlascalans, took up his station at Tlacopan, so as to command the
western causeway; Christoval de Olid, with the same number of cavalry
and Indians, and a hundred and seventy-five infantry, commanded one of
the branches of the southern causeway at Cojohuacan; and Sandoval,
with a force nearly equal, the other branch of the same causeway at
Iztapalapan. Cortez himself took the command of the flotilla of
brigantines. For several days the three captains conducted operations
more or less successfully at their respective stations, one of
Alvarado’s services having consisted in destroying the pipes which
supplied the Mexicans with fresh water, so that, during the rest of
the siege, they had no other way of procuring a supply than by means
of canoes. The brigantines, when they were launched, did immense
service in overturning and dispersing the Mexican canoes, and also in
protecting the flanks of the causeways on which the other detachments
were pursuing their operations. At length, after much resistance on
the part of the Mexicans, the two causeways, the western and the
southern, were completely occupied by the Spaniards; and Sandoval
having, by Cortez’s orders, made a circuit of the lake, and seized the
remaining causeway of Tepejeca, the city was in a state of blockade.
But so impatient were the Spaniards of delay, that Cortez resolved on
a general assault on the city by all the three causeways at once.
Cortez was to advance into the city from Xoloc, Alvarado from his camp
on the western causeway, and Sandoval from his camp on the northern,
and the three detachments, uniting in the great square in the centre
of the city, were to put the inhabitants to the sword. The plan had
nearly succeeded. The vanguard of Cortez’s party had chased the
retreating Mexicans into the city, and were pushing their way to the
great square, when the horn of Guatemozin was heard to sound, and the
Aztecs rallying, commenced a furious onset. The neglect of Cortez to
fill up a trench in one of the causeways impeded the retreat of the
Spaniards in such a way as to cause a dreadful confusion, and it was
only by efforts almost superhuman that they were able to regain their
quarters. Their loss amounted to upwards of a hundred men, of whom
about sixty had been taken alive.
This triumph elated the Mexicans as much as it depressed the Spaniards
and their allies. It was prophesied by the Mexican priests that in
eight days all the Spaniards should be slain; the gods, they said, had
decreed it. This prediction, reported in the quarters of the
besiegers, produced an extraordinary effect on the allies. They
regarded the Spaniards as doomed men, refused to fight with them, and
withdrew to a little distance from the lake. In this dilemma Cortez
showed his wonderful presence of mind, by ordering a total cessation
of hostilities for the period specified by the Mexican gods. When the
eight days were passed, the allies, ashamed of their weakness,
returned to the Spanish quarters, and the siege recommenced. These
eight days, however, had not been without their horrors. From their
quarters the Spaniards could perceive their fellow-countrymen who had
been taken prisoners by the Mexicans dragged to the top of the great
war temple, compelled to dance round the sanctuary of the gods, then
laid on the stone of sacrifice, their hearts torn out, and their
bleeding bodies flung down into the square beneath.
Famine now assisted the arms of the Spaniards; still, with that
bravery of endurance for which their race is remarkable, the Mexicans
continued the defense of the city, and it was not till it had been
eaten into, as it were, on all sides, by the Spaniards, that they
ceased to fight. On the 14th of August a murderous assault was
commenced by the besiegers. It lasted two days; and on the evening of
the second some canoes were seen to leave the city, and endeavor to
reach the mainland. They were chased, and captured; and on board of
one of them was found Guatemozin, with his family and his principal
nobles. Guatemozin’s capture was the signal of complete defeat; and on
the 16th of August, 1521, the city was surrendered to the Spaniards.
The population was reduced to about forty thousand, and in a few days
all these had disappeared, no one knew whither. The city was in ruins,
like some huge churchyard with the corpses disinterred and the
tombstones scattered about.
Thus was the ancient and beautiful city of Mexico destroyed, and its
inhabitants slain or dispersed. A monstrous act of unjustifiable
aggression had been completed. Following up this great blow, Cortez
pursued the conquest of the country generally; and in this, as well as
in organizing it into a colony of Spain, he did not experience any
serious difficulty. On proceeding to Spain, he was received with honor
by Charles V. He returned to Mexico in 1530; and again revisiting
Spain in 1540, for the purpose of procuring the redress of real or
alleged grievances, he died in 1547, in the sixty-third year of his
age. It is very much to be lamented that, in the execution of his
purposes of colonization, the monuments of Mexican civilization were
everywhere destroyed, leaving nothing to future generations but the
broken relics of palaces, temples, and other objects of art, scattered
amidst the wilderness. Some of these ruined monuments, recently
explored by Stephens and other travelers, show that the ancient
Mexicans had made remarkable advances in social life as well as in the
arts, more particularly architecture; and what renders all such relics
the more interesting to the archæologist, is the growing conviction,
that the old Mexican civilization was of an original type――a thing
noway derived from, or connected with, the civilization of Egypt, or
any other nation in the eastern hemisphere.
It is consolatory to know that the Spaniards have not succeeded in
making Mexico a perpetual tributary of their rapacious monarchy. The
cruelties they committed seem to have contained in themselves the
elements of retribution. After a career of indolence, oppression, and
bigotry, extending to comparatively recent times, their yoke has been
thrown off; and their feeble and ignorant successors may be said to be
in the course of coming under the thraldom of their Anglo-Saxon
neighbors. It is difficult to compassionate the fate which appears to
await the slothful and proud race whose ancestors laid the ancient
empire of Mexico in ruins.