_How we are attacked by all the caziques of Tabasco, and the whole
armed force of this province, and what further took place._
The Indians were already moving forward in search of us, when we came up
with them: every one had a large bunch of feathers on his head, a cotton
cuirass on, and their faces were daubed with white, black, and red
colours. Besides having drums and trumpets, they were armed with huge
bows and arrows, shields, lances, and large broadswords; they had also
bodies of slingers, and others armed with poles hardened in the fire.
The Indians were in such vast numbers that they completely filled the
bean fields, and immediately fell upon us on all sides at once, like
furious dogs. Their attack was so impetuous, so numerous were the
arrows, stones, and lances with which they greeted us, that above
seventy of our men were wounded in no time, and one named Saldana, was
struck by an arrow in the ear, and instantly dropt down dead. With like
fury they rushed at us with their pikes, at the same time pouring forth
showers of arrows, and continually wounding our men. However, we fully
repaid them with our crossbows, muskets, and heavy cannon, cutting right
and left among them with our swords. By this means we forced them to
give ground a little, but only that they might shower forth their arrows
at a greater distance, where they thought themselves more secure from
our arms. Even then our artilleryman Mesa made terrible havoc among
them, standing as they did crowded together and within reach of the
cannon, so that he could fire among them to his heart's content.
Notwithstanding the destruction we made among their ranks, we could not
put them to flight. I now remarked to our commander Diego de Ordas that
we should rush forward upon the Indians and close with them. My motive
for advising this was, because I saw that they merely retreated from
fear of our swords, but still continued to annoy us at a distance with
arrows, lances, and large stones. De Ordas, however, considered this not
expedient, as the enemy's numbers were so vast that every single man of
us would have had to encounter 300 of the enemy at once.
My advice, however, was at length followed up, and we fell so heavily
upon them that they retreated as far as the wells. All this time Cortes
still remained behind with the cavalry, though we so greatly longed for
that reinforcement: we began to fear that some misfortune might also
have befallen him. I shall never forget the piping and yelling which the
Indians set up at every shot we fired, and how they sought to hide their
loss from us by tossing up earth and straw into the air, making a
terrible noise with their drums and trumpets, and their war-whoop _Ala
lala_.[11]
In one of these moments Cortes came galloping up with the horse. Our
enemies being still busily engaged with us, did not immediately observe
this, so that our cavalry easily dashed in among them from behind. The
nature of the ground was quite favorable for its manoeuvres; and as it
consisted of strong active fellows, most of the horses being, moreover,
powerful and fiery animals, our small body of cavalry in every way made
the best use of their weapons. When we, who were already hotly engaged
with the enemy, espied our cavalry, we fought with renewed energy, while
the latter, by attacking them in the rear at the same time, now obliged
them to face about. The Indians, who had never seen any horses before,
could not think otherwise than that horse and rider were one body. Quite
astounded at this to them so novel a sight, they quitted the plain and
retreated to a rising ground.
Cortes now related why he had not come sooner. First, he had been
delayed by the morass; then again he was obliged to fight his way
through other bodies of the enemy whom he had met, in which five men and
eight horses were wounded.
Having somewhat rested from our fatigue under the trees which stood on
the field of battle, we praised God and the holy Virgin, and thanked
them with uplifted hands for the complete victory they had granted us:
and, as it was the feast of the annunciation to the holy Virgin, the
town which was subsequently built here in memory of this great victory,
was named Santa Maria de la Vitoria. This was the first battle we fought
under Cortes in New Spain.
After this pious solemnity we bandaged the wounds of our men with linen,
which was all we had for that purpose. Those of our horses we dressed
with melted fat, which we cut from the dead bodies of the Indians. We
likewise took this opportunity of counting the number of killed left by
the enemy on the field of battle. We found above eight hundred, numbers
still showing signs of life. Our swords had done the most carnage among
them, though many were killed by our cannon. Wherever the cavalry made
its appearance the enemy had most work to do. The fighting lasted about
an hour; and our enemies maintained their ground so well, that they did
not quit the field of battle until our horse broke in among them. There
were two caziques among the five prisoners we made.
As we were quite fatigued and hungry we returned to our quarters, buried
the two soldiers, one of whom had been shot in the neck and the other in
the ear, posted strong watches, then ate our supper and retired to rest.
Francisco Lopez de Gomara, in his account of this battle, says, that
previous to the arrival of Cortes with the cavalry, the holy apostle St.
Jacob or St. Peter in person had galloped up on a gray-coloured horse
to our assistance. I can only say, that for the exertion of our arms
and this victory, we stand indebted to our Lord Jesus Christ; and that
in this battle every individual man among us was set upon by such
numbers of the enemy, that if each of them had merely thrown a handful
of earth upon us we should have been buried beneath it. Certain it is,
therefore, that God showed his mercy to us here, and it may, indeed,
have been one of the two glorious apostles St. Jacob or St. Peter who
thus came to our assistance. Perhaps on account of my sins I was not
considered worthy of the good fortune to behold them; for I could only
see Francisco de Morla on his brown horse galloping up with Cortes, and
even at this very moment, while I am writing this, I can fancy I see all
passing before my eyes just as I have related it; although I, an
unworthy sinner, was not considered worthy of beholding one of the
glorious apostles face to face: yet again I never heard any of the four
hundred soldiers, nor ever Cortes himself, nor any of the many
cavaliers, mention this wonder, or confirm its truth. We should
certainly have built a church, and have called the town _Santiago_, or
_San Pedro de la Vitoria_, and not _Santa Maria de la Vitoria_. If,
therefore, what Gomara relates is true, then we must indeed have been
bad Christians not to have paid greater respect to the assistance which
God sent us in the person of his holy apostles, and for having omitted
to thank him daily for it in his own church. Nevertheless, I should feel
delighted if this historian has spoken the truth, although I must
confess that I never heard this wonder mentioned before reading his
book, nor have I ever heard any of the conquistadores speak of it who
were present at the battle.
[11] Ala lala. What a striking similarity there is between this cry and
the Turkish Alla il Allah, of which, as Byron says, in one of his notes
to the 'Bride of Abydos,' the Turks are very profuse in battle! (p. 75.)