CHAPTER I

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Montezuma Edition

THE WORKS OF WILLIAM H. PRESCOTT

TWENTY-TWO VOLUMES

VOL. II

_The Montezuma Edition of William H. Prescott’s Works is limited to one

thousand copies, of which this is_

No. 345

[Illustration: _Copyright 1904, by J.B. Lippincott Company_ _Goupil &

Cº., Paris_]

[Illustration: THE MEETING OF CORTÉS AND MONTEZUMA

Page 254]

_Montezuma Edition_

HISTORY OF THE

Conquest of Mexico

BY

WILLIAM H. PRESCOTT

EDITED BY

WILFRED HAROLD MUNRO

PROFESSOR OF EUROPEAN HISTORY IN BROWN UNIVERSITY

AND COMPRISING THE NOTES OF THE EDITION BY

JOHN FOSTER KIRK

“Victrices aquilas alium laturus in orbem”

LUCAN, Pharsalia, lib. v., v. 238

VOL. II

PHILADELPHIA AND LONDON

J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY

Copyright, 1843, by WILLIAM H. PRESCOTT

Copyright, 1871, by WILLIAM G. PRESCOTT

Copyright, 1873, by J. B. LIPPINCOTT & CO.

Copyright, 1904, by J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY

Electrotyped and Printed by

J. B. Lippincott Company, Philadelphia, U.S.A.

CONTENTS OF VOL. II

BOOK II

DISCOVERY OF MEXICO

(CONTINUED)

CHAPTER VI

ACCOUNT OF MONTEZUMA--STATE OF HIS EMPIRE--STRANGE

PROGNOSTICS--EMBASSY AND PRESENTS--SPANISH ENCAMPMENT

PAGE

Montezuma then upon the Throne 3

Inaugural Address 4

The Wars of Montezuma 5

His civil Policy 6

Oppression of his Subjects 7

Foes of his Empire 8

Superstition of Montezuma 9

Mysterious Prophecy 10

Portentous Omens 11

Dismay of the Emperor 12

Embassy and presents to the Spaniards 14

Life in the Spanish Camp 15

Rich Present from Montezuma 16

Large gold Wheels 17

Message from Montezuma 18

Effects of the Treasure on the Spaniards 20

Return of the Aztec Envoys 21

Prohibition of Montezuma 22

Preaching of Father Olmedo 23

Desertion of the Natives 23

CHAPTER VII

TROUBLES IN THE CAMP--PLAN OF A COLONY--MANAGEMENT OF

CORTÉS--MARCH TO CEMPOALLA--PROCEEDINGS WITH THE NATIVES--FOUNDATION

OF VERA CRUZ

Discontent of the Soldiery 24

Envoys from the Totonacs 25

Dissensions in the Aztec Empire 26

Proceedings in the Camp 26

Cortés prepares to return to Cuba 27

Army remonstrate 28

Cortés yields 29

Foundation of Villa Rica 30

Resignation and Reappointment of Cortés 31

Divisions in the Camp 32

General Reconciliation 33

March to Cempoalla 34

Picturesque Scenery 35

Remains of Victims 35

Terrestrial Paradise 36

Love of Flowers by the Natives 37

Their splendid Edifices 38

Hospitable Entertainment at Cempoalla 39

Conference with the Cacique 40

Proposals of Alliance 41

Advance of the Spaniards 43

Arrival of Aztec Nobles 44

Artful Policy of Cortés 45

Allegiance of the Natives 46

City of Villa Rica built 47

Infatuation of the Indians 48

CHAPTER VIII

ANOTHER AZTEC EMBASSY--DESTRUCTION OF THE IDOLS--DESPATCHES

SENT TO SPAIN--CONSPIRACY IN THE CAMP--THE FLEET SUNK

Embassy from Montezuma 49

Its Results 50

Severe Discipline in the Army 51

Gratitude of the Cempoallan Cacique 52

Attempt at Conversion 53

Sensation among the Natives 54

The Idols burned 55

Consecration of the Sanctuary 56

News from Cuba 57

Presents for Charles the Fifth 58

First Letter of Cortés 59

Despatches to Spain 61

Agents for the Mission 62

Departure of the Ship 63

It touches at Cuba 64

Rage of Velasquez 64

Ship arrives in Spain 65

Conspiracy in the Camp 66

Destruction of the Fleet 67

Oration of Cortés 69

Enthusiasm of the Army 70

Notice of Las Casas 72

His Life and Character 73

Criticism on his Works 79

BOOK III

MARCH TO MEXICO

CHAPTER I

PROCEEDINGS AT CEMPOALLA--THE SPANIARDS CLIMB THE TABLELAND--PICTURESQUE

SCENERY--TRANSACTIONS WITH THE NATIVES--EMBASSY TO TLASCALA

Squadron off the Coast 83

Stratagem of Cortés 85

Arrangement at Villa Rica 86

Spaniards begin their March 87

Climb the Cordilleras 88

Wild Mountain Scenery 89

Immense Heaps of human Skulls 93

Transactions with the Natives 94

Accounts of Montezuma’s Power 95

Moderation of Father Olmedo 97

Indian Dwellings 99

Cortés determines his Route 100

Embassy to Tlascala 101

Remarkable Fortification 102

Arrival in Tlascala 103

CHAPTER II

REPUBLIC OF TLASCALA--ITS INSTITUTIONS--EARLY HISTORY--DISCUSSIONS

IN THE SENATE--DESPERATE BATTLES

The Tlascalans 104

Their Migrations 105

Their Government 106

Public Games 107

Order of Knighthood 108

Internal Resources 108

Their Civilization 109

Struggles with the Aztecs 110

Means of Defence 111

Sufferings of the Tlascalans 112

Their hardy Character 113

Debates in the Senate 114

Spaniards advance 115

Desperate Onslaught 116

Retreat of the Indians 117

Bivouac of the Spaniards 118

The Army resumes its March 119

Immense Host of Barbarians 120

Bloody Conflict in the Pass 121

Enemy give Ground 122

Spaniards clear the Pass 123

Cessation of Hostilities 124

Results of the Conflict 125

Troops encamp for the Night 126

CHAPTER III

DECISIVE VICTORY--INDIAN COUNCIL--NIGHT ATTACK--NEGOTIATIONS

WITH THE ENEMY--TLASCALAN HERO

Envoys to Tlascala 127

Foraging Party 128

Bold Defiance by the Tlascalans 129

Preparations for Battle 130

Appearance of the Tlascalans 131

Showy Costume of the Warriors 132

Their Weapons 134

Desperate Engagement 136

The Combat thickens 137

Divisions among the Enemy 138

Decisive Victory 139

Triumph of Science over Numbers 140

Dread of the Cavalry 140

Indian Council 142

Night Attack 143

Spaniards victorious 144

Embassy to Tlascala 145

Peace with the Enemy 145

Patriotic Spirit of their Chief 146

CHAPTER IV

DISCONTENT IN THE ARMY--TLASCALAN SPIES--PEACE WITH THE

REPUBLIC--EMBASSY FROM MONTEZUMA

Spaniards scour the Country 147

Success of the Foray 148

Discontent in the Camp 149

Representations of the Malecontents 150

Reply of Cortés 151

Difficulties of the Enterprise 153

Mutilation of the Spies 154

Interview with the Tlascalan Chief 156

Peace with the Republic 158

Embassy from Montezuma 159

Declines to receive the Spaniards 160

They advance towards the City 161

CHAPTER V

SPANIARDS ENTER TLASCALA--DESCRIPTION OF THE CAPITAL--ATTEMPTED

CONVERSION--AZTEC EMBASSY--INVITED TO CHOLULA

Spaniards enter Tlascala 164

Rejoicings on their Arrival 165

Description of Tlascala 166

Its Houses and Streets 166

Its Fairs and Police 167

Divisions of the City 167

Wild Scenery round Tlascala 168

Character of the Tlascalans 169

Vigilance of Cortés 169

Attempted Conversion 170

Resistance of the Natives 170

Zeal of Cortés 171

Prudence of the Friar 171

Character of Olmedo 172

Mass celebrated in Tlascala 173

The Indian Maidens 174

Aztec Embassy 175

Power of Montezuma 176

Embassy from Ixtlilxochitl 177

Deputies from Cholula 178

Invitation to Cholula 178

Prepare to leave Tlascala 179

CHAPTER VI

CITY OF CHOLULA--GREAT TEMPLE--MARCH TO CHOLULA--RECEPTION

OF THE SPANIARDS--CONSPIRACY DETECTED

City of Cholula 180

Its History 181

Religious Traditions 182

Its ancient Pyramid 183

Temple of Quetzalcoatl 184

Holy City 185

Magnificent Scenery 187

Spaniards leave Tlascala 188

Indian Volunteers 189

Army enters Cholula 190

Brilliant Reception 191

Envoys from Montezuma 192

Suspicions of Conspiracy 193

Fidelity of Marina 194

Alarming Situation of Cortés 195

Intrigues with the Priests 196

Interview with the Caciques 197

Night-watch of the Spaniards 198

CHAPTER VII

TERRIBLE MASSACRE--TRANQUILLITY RESTORED--REFLECTIONS ON

THE MASSACRE--FURTHER PROCEEDINGS--ENVOYS FROM MONTEZUMA

Preparations for a secret Assault 200

Natives collect in the Square 200

The Signal given 201

Terrible Massacre 202

Onset of the Tlascalans 203

Defence of the Pyramid 204

Division of the Spoil 205

Restoration of Order 206

Reflections on the Massacre 207

Right of Conquest 208

Missionary Spirit 209

Policy of Cortés 211

His perilous Situation 212

Cruelty to be charged on him 212

Terror of “the White Gods” 215

The Cross raised in Cholula 217

Victims liberated from the Cages 217

Christian Temple reared on the Pyramid 217

Embassy from Montezuma 218

Departure of the Cempoallans 219

CHAPTER VIII

MARCH RESUMED--ASCENT OF THE GREAT VOLCANO--VALLEY OF

MEXICO--IMPRESSION ON THE SPANIARDS--CONDUCT OF MONTEZUMA--THEY

DESCEND INTO THE VALLEY

Spaniards leave Cholula 221

Signs of Treachery 222

The Army reaches the Mountains 223

Wild Traditions 223

The great Volcano 224

Spaniards ascend its Sides 225

Perils of the Enterprise 226

Subsequent Ascent 227

Descent into the Crater 228

The Troops suffer from the Tempest 229

First View of the Valley 230

Its Magnificence and Beauty 230

Impression on the Spaniards 232

Disaffection of the Natives to Montezuma 233

Embassy from the Emperor 234

His gloomy Apprehensions 234

Silence of the Oracles 235

Spaniards advance 236

Death of the Spies 237

Arrival of the Tezcucan Lord 238

Floating Gardens 240

Crowds assembled on the Roads 241

Army reaches Iztapalapan 242

Its celebrated Gardens 243

Striking View of Mexico 245

CHAPTER IX

ENVIRONS OF MEXICO--INTERVIEW WITH MONTEZUMA--ENTRANCE

INTO THE CAPITAL--HOSPITABLE RECEPTION--VISIT TO THE

EMPEROR

Preparations to enter the Capital 246

Army enters on the great Causeway 247

Beautiful Environs 248

Brilliant Procession of Chiefs 249

Splendid Retinue of Montezuma 250

Dress of the Emperor 252

His Person 252

His Reception of Cortés 253

Spaniards enter the Capital 254

Feelings of the Aztecs 256

Hospitable Reception 258

The Spanish Quarters 259

Precaution of the General 259

Visited by the Emperor 260

His rich Presents 261

Superstitious Terrors 262

Royal Palace 263

Description of its Interior 264

Cortés visits Montezuma 265

Attempts to convert the Monarch 265

Entire Failure 266

His religious Views 267

Montezuma’s Eloquence 268

His courteous Bearing 269

Reflections of Cortés 270

Notice of Herrera 272

Criticism on his History 274

Life of Toribio 274

Peter Martyr 277

His Works 278

BOOK IV

RESIDENCE IN MEXICO

CHAPTER I

TEZCUCAN LAKE--DESCRIPTION OF THE CAPITAL--PALACES AND

MUSEUMS--ROYAL HOUSEHOLD--MONTEZUMA’S WAY OF LIFE

Lake of Tezcuco 281

Its Diminution 282

Floating Islands 283

The ancient Dikes 284

Houses of ancient Mexico 285

Its Streets 286

Its Population 288

Its Aqueducts and Fountains 292

The imperial Palace 293

Adjoining Edifices 294

Magnificent Aviary 294

Extensive Menagerie 295

Collection of Dwarfs 296

Gardens 297

Royal Hill of Chapoltepec 298

Wives of Montezuma 299

His Meals 300

Luxurious Dessert 303

Custom of Smoking 304

Ceremonies at Court 305

Economy of the Palace 306

Oriental Civilization 308

Reserve of Montezuma 309

Symptoms of Decline of Power 309

CHAPTER II

MARKET OF MEXICO--GREAT TEMPLE--INTERIOR SANCTUARIES--SPANISH

QUARTERS

Mexican Costume 311

Great Market of Mexico 312

Quarter of the Goldsmiths 313

Booths of the Armorers 314

Provisions for the Capital 315

Throngs in the Market 317

Aztec Money 318

The great Temple 319

Its Structure 320

Dimensions 321

Instruments of Worship 322

Grand View from the Temple 323

Shrines of the Idols 325

Imprudence of Cortés 327

Interior Sanctuaries 328

Mound of Skulls 329

Aztec Seminaries 330

Impression on the Spaniards 332

Hidden Treasures 333

Mass performed in Mexico 334

CHAPTER III

ANXIETY OF CORTÉS--SEIZURE OF MONTEZUMA--HIS TREATMENT

BY THE SPANIARDS--EXECUTION OF HIS OFFICERS--MONTEZUMA

IN IRONS--REFLECTIONS

Anxiety of Cortés 335

Council of War 336

Opinions of the Officers 337

Bold Project of Cortés 337

Plausible Pretext 338

Interview with Montezuma 341

Accusation of Montezuma 342

His Seizure 345

He is carried to the Spanish Quarters 346

Tumult among the Aztecs 346

Montezuma’s Treatment 347

Vigilant Patrol 348

Trial of the Aztec Chiefs 350

Montezuma in Irons 351

Chiefs burnt at the Stake 351

Emperor allowed to return 352

Declines this Permission 353

Reflections on these Proceedings 354

Views of the Conquerors 356

CHAPTER IV

MONTEZUMA’S DEPORTMENT--HIS LIFE IN THE SPANISH QUARTERS--MEDITATED

INSURRECTION--LORD OF TEZCUCO SEIZED--FURTHER MEASURES OF CORTES

Troubles at Vera Cruz 358

Vessels built on the Lake 359

Montezuma’s Life in the Spanish Quarters 360

His Munificence 361

Sensitive to Insult 362

The Emperor’s Favorites 363

Spaniards attempt his Conversion 364

Brigantines on the Lake 365

The Royal Chase 365

Lord of Tezcuco 366

Meditated Insurrection 368

Policy of Cortés 369

Tezcucan Lord in Chains 370

Further Measures of Cortés 371

Surveys the Coast 372

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

PAGE

THE MEETING OF CORTÉS AND MONTEZUMA _Frontispiece_

From a painting especially made for this edition by L. Kowalsky.

CORTÉS RECEIVING THE EMBASSY OF MONTEZUMA 14

After the painting in the National Museum at Mexico.

CORTÉS SINKING HIS SHIPS 70

After the painting by F. Sans.

AUDIENCE OF CORTÉS WITH MONTEZUMA 260

After the painting in the National Museum at Mexico.

MAP OF THE VALLEY OF MEXICO AT THE PERIOD OF THE CONQUEST 281

MONTEZUMA 304

After the portrait published by Fray Prudentio Sandoval in

his “History of Charles V.,” edition of 1614.

BOOK II

DISCOVERY OF MEXICO

(CONTINUED)

CONQUEST OF MEXICO

CHAPTER VI

ACCOUNT OF MONTEZUMA--STATE OF HIS EMPIRE--STRANGE

PROGNOSTICS--EMBASSY AND PRESENTS--SPANISH ENCAMPMENT

1519

We must now take leave of the Spanish camp in the _tierra caliente_, and

transport ourselves to the distant capital of Mexico, where no little

sensation was excited by the arrival of the wonderful strangers on the

coast. The Aztec throne was filled at that time by Montezuma the Second,

nephew of the last, and grandson of a preceding monarch. He had been

elected to the regal dignity{*} in 1502, in preference to his brothers,

for his superior qualifications both as a soldier and a priest,--a

combination of offices sometimes found in the Mexican candidates, as it

was more frequently in the Egyptian. In early youth he had taken an

active part in the wars of the empire, though of late he had devoted

himself more exclusively to the services of the temple; and he was

scrupulous in his attentions to all the burdensome ceremonial of the

Aztec worship. He maintained a grave and reserved demeanor, speaking

little and with prudent deliberation. His deportment was well calculated

to inspire ideas of superior sanctity.[1]

{*} [“Chief of men.”--M.]

When his election was announced to him, he was found sweeping down the

stairs in the great temple of the national war-god. He received the

messengers with a becoming humility, professing his unfitness for so

responsible a station. The address delivered as usual on the occasion

was made by his relative Nezahualpilli, the wise king of Tezcuco.[2] It

has, fortunately, been preserved, and presents a favorable specimen of

Indian eloquence. Towards the conclusion, the orator exclaims, “Who can

doubt that the Aztec empire has reached the zenith of its greatness,

since the Almighty has placed over it one whose very presence fills

every beholder with reverence? Rejoice, happy people, that you have now

a sovereign who will be to you a steady column of support; a father in

distress, a more than brother in tenderness and sympathy; one whose

aspiring soul will disdain all the profligate pleasures of the senses

and the wasting indulgence of sloth. And thou, illustrious youth, doubt

not that the Creator, who has laid on thee so weighty a charge, will

also give strength to sustain it; that He, who has been so liberal in

times past, will shower yet more abundant blessings on thy head, and

keep thee firm in thy royal seat through many long and glorious years.”

These golden prognostics, which melted the royal auditor into tears,

were not destined to be realized.[3]

Montezuma displayed all the energy and enterprise in the commencement of

his reign which had been anticipated from him. His first expedition

against a rebel province in the neighborhood was crowned with success,

and he led back in triumph a throng of captives for the bloody sacrifice

that was to grace his coronation. This was celebrated with uncommon

pomp. Games and religious ceremonies continued for several days, and

among the spectators who flocked from distant quarters were some noble

Tlascalans, the hereditary enemies of Mexico. They were in disguise,

hoping thus to elude detection. They were recognized, however, and

reported to the monarch. But he only availed himself of the information

to provide them with honorable entertainment and a good place for

witnessing the games. This was a magnanimous act, considering the

long-cherished hostility between the nations.

In his first years, Montezuma was constantly engaged in war, and

frequently led his armies in person. The Aztec banners were seen in the

farthest provinces on the Gulf of Mexico, and the distant regions of

Nicaragua and Honduras. The expeditions were generally successful; and

the limits of the empire were more widely extended than at any preceding

period.

Meanwhile the monarch was not inattentive to the interior concerns of

the kingdom. He made some important changes in the courts of justice,

and carefully watched over the execution of the laws, which he enforced

with stern severity. He was in the habit of patrolling the streets of

his capital in disguise, to make himself personally acquainted with the

abuses in it. And with more questionable policy, it is said, he would

sometimes try the integrity of his judges by tempting them with large

bribes to swerve from their duty, and then call the delinquent to strict

account for yielding to the temptation.

He liberally recompensed all who served him. He showed a similar

munificent spirit in his public works, constructing and embellishing the

temples, bringing water into the capital by a new channel, and

establishing a hospital, or retreat for invalid soldiers, in the city of

Colhuacan.[4]

These acts, so worthy of a great prince, were counterbalanced by others

of an opposite complexion. The humility, displayed so ostentatiously

before his elevation, gave way to an intolerable arrogance. In his

pleasure-houses, domestic establishment, and way of living, he assumed a

pomp unknown to his predecessors. He secluded himself from public

observation, or, when he went abroad, exacted the most slavish homage;

while in the palace he would be served only, even in the most menial

offices, by persons of rank. He, further, dismissed several plebeians,

chiefly poor soldiers of merit, from the places they had occupied near

the person of his predecessor, considering their attendance a dishonor

to royalty. It was in vain that his oldest and sagest counsellors

remonstrated on a conduct so impolitic.

While he thus disgusted his subjects by his haughty deportment, he

alienated their affections by the imposition of grievous taxes. These

were demanded by the lavish expenditure of his court. They fell with

peculiar heaviness on the conquered cities. This oppression led to

frequent insurrection and resistance; and the latter years of his reign

present a scene of unintermitting hostility, in which the forces of one

half of the empire were employed in suppressing the commotions of the

other. Unfortunately, there was no principle of amalgamation by which

the new acquisitions could be incorporated into the ancient monarchy as

parts of one whole.{*} Their interests, as well as sympathies, were

different. Thus the more widely the Aztec empire was extended, the

weaker it became; resembling some vast and ill-proportioned edifice,

whose disjointed materials, having no principle of cohesion, and

tottering under their own weight, seem ready to fall before the first

blast of the tempest.

{*} [They were held as subject pueblos. See note, p. 23, vol. i.--M.]

In 1516 died the Tezcucan king, Nezahualpilli; in whom Montezuma lost

his most sagacious counsellor. The succession was contested by his two

sons, Cacama and Ixtlilxochitl. The former was supported by Montezuma.

The latter, the younger of the princes, a bold, aspiring youth,

appealing to the patriotic sentiment of his nation, would have persuaded

them that his brother was too much in the Mexican interests to be true

to his own country. A civil war ensued, and ended by a compromise, by

which one half of the kingdom, with the capital, remained to Cacama, and

the northern portion to his ambitious rival. Ixtlilxochitl became from

that time the mortal foe of Montezuma.[5]

A more formidable enemy still was the little republic of Tlascala,{*}

lying midway between the Mexican Valley and the coast. It had maintained

its independence for more than two centuries against the allied forces

of the empire. Its resources were unimpaired, its civilization scarcely

below that of its great rival states, and for courage and military

prowess it had established a name inferior to none other of the nations

of Anahuac.

{*} [Tlascala was not a republic but a pueblo. It was divided into four

phratries. Clavigero says (Storia Ant. del Messico, tom. i. p. 155) that

it was divided into four parts, each division having its lord.--M.]

Such was the condition of the Aztec monarchy on the arrival of

Cortés;--the people disgusted with the arrogance of the sovereign; the

provinces and distant cities outraged by fiscal exactions; while potent

enemies in the neighborhood lay watching the hour when they might assail

their formidable rival with advantage. Still the kingdom was strong in

its internal resources, in the will of its monarch, in the long habitual

deference to his authority,--in short, in the terror of his name, and in

the valor and discipline of his armies, grown gray in active service,

and well drilled in all the tactics of Indian warfare. The time had now

come when these imperfect tactics and rude weapons of the barbarian were

to be brought into collision with the science and enginery of the most

civilized nations of the globe.

During the latter years of his reign, Montezuma had rarely taken part in

his military expeditions, which he left to his captains, occupying

himself chiefly with his sacerdotal functions. Under no prince had the

priesthood enjoyed greater consideration and immunities. The religious

festivals and rites were celebrated with unprecedented pomp. The oracles

were consulted on the most trivial occasions; and the sanguinary deities

were propitiated by hecatombs of victims dragged in triumph to the

capital from the conquered or rebellious provinces. The religion, or, to

speak correctly, the superstition of Montezuma proved a principal cause

of his calamities.

In a preceding chapter I have noticed the popular traditions respecting

Quetzalcoatl, that deity with a fair complexion and flowing beard, so

unlike the Indian physiognomy, who, after fulfilling his mission of

benevolence among the Aztecs, embarked on the Atlantic Sea for the

mysterious shores of Tlapallan.[6] He promised, on his departure, to

return at some future day with his posterity, and resume the possession

of his empire. That day was looked forward to with hope or with

apprehension, according to the interest of the believer, but with

general confidence, throughout the wide borders of Anahuac. Even after

the Conquest it still lingered among the Indian races, by whom it was as

fondly cherished as the advent of their king Sebastian continued to be

by the Portuguese, or that of the Messiah by the Jews.[7]

A general feeling seems to have prevailed in the time of Montezuma that

the period for the return of the deity and the full accomplishment of

his promise was near at hand. This conviction is said to have gained

ground from various preternatural occurrences, reported with more or

less detail by all the most ancient historians.[8] In 1510 the great

lake of Tezcuco, without the occurrence of a tempest, or earthquake, or

any other visible cause, became violently agitated, overflowed its

banks, and, pouring into the streets of Mexico, swept off many of the

buildings by the fury of the waters. In 1511 one of the turrets of the

great temple took fire, equally without any apparent cause, and

continued to burn in defiance of all attempts to extinguish it. In the

following years, three comets were seen; and not long before the coming

of the Spaniards a strange light broke forth in the east. It spread

broad at its base on the horizon, and rising in a pyramidal form tapered

off as it approached the zenith. It resembled a vast sheet or flood of

fire, emitting sparkles, or, as an old writer expresses it, “seemed

thickly powdered with stars.”[9] At the same time, low voices were heard

in the air, and doleful wailings, as if to announce some strange,

mysterious calamity! The Aztec monarch, terrified at the apparitions in

the heavens, took counsel of Nezahualpilli, who was a great proficient

in the subtle science of astrology. But the royal sage cast a deeper

cloud over his spirit by reading in these prodigies the speedy downfall

of the empire.[10]

Such are the strange stories reported by the chroniclers, in which it is

not impossible to detect the glimmerings of truth.[11] Nearly thirty

years had elapsed since the discovery of the Islands by Columbus, and

more than twenty since his visit to the American continent. Rumors, more

or less distinct, of this wonderful appearance of the white men, bearing

in their hands the thunder and the lightning, so like in many respects

to the traditions of Quetzalcoatl, would naturally spread far and wide

among the Indian nations. Such rumors, doubtless, long before the

landing of the Spaniards in Mexico, found their way up the grand

plateau, filling the minds of men with anticipations of the near coming

of the period when the great deity was to return and receive his own

again.

In the excited state of their imaginations, prodigies became a familiar

occurrence. Or rather, events not very uncommon in themselves, seen

through the discolored medium of fear, were easily magnified into

prodigies; and the accidental swell of the lake, the appearance of a

comet, and the conflagration of a building were all interpreted as the

special annunciations of Heaven.[12] Thus it happens in those great

political convulsions which shake the foundations of society,--the

mighty events that cast their shadows before them in their coming. Then

it is that the atmosphere is agitated with the low, prophetic murmurs

with which Nature, in the moral as in the physical world, announces the

march of the hurricane:

“When from the shores

And forest-rustling mountains comes a voice,

That, solemn sounding, bids the world prepare!”

When tidings were brought to the capital of the landing of Grijalva on

the coast, in the preceding year, the heart of Montezuma was filled with

dismay. He felt as if the destinies which had so long brooded over the

royal line of Mexico were to be accomplished, and the sceptre was to

pass away from his house forever. Though somewhat relieved by the

departure of the Spaniards, he caused sentinels to be stationed on the

heights; and, when the Europeans returned under Cortés, he doubtless

received the earliest notice of the unwelcome event. It was by his

orders, however, that the provincial governor had prepared so hospitable

a reception for them. The hieroglyphical report of these strange

visitors, now forwarded to the capital, revived all his apprehensions.

He called, without delay, a meeting of his principal counsellors,

including the kings of Tezcuco and Tlacopan, and laid the matter before

them.[13]

There seems to have been much division of opinion in that body. Some

were for resisting the strangers at once, whether by fraud or by open

force. Others contended that, if they were supernatural beings, fraud

and force would be alike useless. If they were, as they pretended,

ambassadors from a foreign prince, such a policy would be cowardly and

unjust. That they were not of the family of Quetzalcoatl was argued from

the fact that they had shown themselves hostile to his religion; for

tidings of the proceedings of the Spaniards in Tabasco, it seems, had

already reached the capital. Among those in favor of giving them a

friendly and honorable reception was the Tezcucan king, Cacama.

But Montezuma, taking counsel of his own ill-defined apprehensions,

preferred a half-way course,--as usual, the most impolitic. He resolved

to send an embassy, with such a magnificent present to the strangers as

should impress them with high ideas of his grandeur and resources; while

at the same time he would forbid their approach to the capital. This was

to reveal at once both his wealth and his weakness.[14]

While the Aztec court was thus agitated by the arrival of the Spaniards,

they were passing their time in the _tierra caliente_, not a little

annoyed by the excessive heats and suffocating atmosphere of the sandy

waste on which they were encamped. They experienced every alleviation

that could be derived from the attentions of the friendly natives.

These, by the governor’s command, had constructed more than a thousand

huts or booths of branches and matting, which they occupied in the

[Illustration: CORTÉS RECEIVING THE EMBASSY OF MONTEZUMA]

[Illustration]

neighborhood of the camp. Here they prepared various articles of food

for the table of Cortés and his officers, without any recompense; while

the common soldiers easily obtained a supply for themselves, in exchange

for such trifles as they brought with them for barter. Thus the camp was

liberally provided with meat and fish dressed in many savory ways, with

cakes of corn, bananas, pine-apples, and divers luscious vegetables of

the tropics, hitherto unknown to the Spaniards. The soldiers contrived,

moreover, to obtain many little bits of gold, of no great value, indeed,

from the natives; a traffic very displeasing to the partisans of

Velasquez, who considered it an invasion of his rights. Cortés, however,

did not think it prudent, in this matter, to balk the inclinations of

his followers.[15]

At the expiration of seven, or eight days at most, the Mexican embassy

presented itself before the camp. It may seem an incredibly short space

of time, considering the distance of the capital was nearly seventy

leagues. But it may be remembered that tidings were carried there by

means of posts, as already noticed, in the brief space of

four-and-twenty hours;[16] and four or five days would suffice for the

descent of the envoys to the coast, accustomed as the Mexicans were to

long and rapid travelling. At all events, no writer states the period

occupied by the Indian emissaries on this occasion as longer than that

mentioned.

The embassy, consisting of two Aztec nobles, was accompanied by the

governor, Teuhtlile, and by a hundred slaves, bearing the princely gifts

of Montezuma. One of the envoys had been selected on account of the

great resemblance which, as appeared from the painting representing the

camp, he bore to the Spanish commander. And it is a proof of the

fidelity of the painting, that the soldiers recognized the resemblance,

and always distinguished the chief by the name of the “Mexican Cortés.”

On entering the general’s pavilion, the ambassadors saluted him and his

officers with the usual signs of reverence to persons of great

consideration, touching the ground with their hands and then carrying

them to their heads, while the air was filled with clouds of incense,

which rose up from the censers borne by their attendants. Some

delicately wrought mats of the country (_petates_) were then unrolled,

and on them the slaves displayed the various articles they had brought.

They were of the most miscellaneous kind: shields, helmets, cuirasses,

embossed with plates and ornaments of pure gold; collars and bracelets

of the same metal, sandals, fans, _panaches_ and crests of variegated

feathers, intermingled with gold and silver thread, and sprinkled with

pearls and precious stones; imitations of birds and animals in wrought

and cast gold and silver, of exquisite workmanship; curtains, coverlets,

and robes of cotton, fine as silk, of rich and various dyes, interwoven

with feather-work that rivalled the delicacy of painting.[17] There

were more than thirty loads of cotton cloth in addition. Among the

articles was the Spanish helmet sent to the capital, and now returned

filled to the brim with grains of gold. But the things which excited the

most admiration were two circular plates of gold and silver, “as large

as carriage-wheels.” One, representing the sun, was richly carved with

plants and animals,--no doubt, denoting the Aztec century. It was thirty

palms in circumference, and was valued at twenty thousand _pesos de

oro_. The silver wheel, of the same size, weighed fifty marks.[18]

The Spaniards could not conceal their rapture at the exhibition of

treasures which so far surpassed all the dreams in which they had

indulged. For, rich as were the materials, they were exceeded--according

to the testimony of those who saw these articles afterwards in Seville,

where they could coolly examine them--by the beauty and richness of the

workmanship.[19]

When Cortés and his officers had completed their survey, the ambassadors

courteously delivered the message of Montezuma. “It gave their master

great pleasure,” they said, “to hold this communication with so powerful

a monarch as the King of Spain, for whom he felt the most profound

respect. He regretted much that he could not enjoy a personal interview

with the Spaniards, but the distance of his capital was too great; since

the journey was beset with difficulties, and with too many dangers from

formidable enemies, to make it possible. All that could be done,

therefore, was for the strangers to return to their own land, with the

proofs thus afforded them of his friendly disposition.”

Cortés, though much chagrined at this decided refusal of Montezuma to

admit his visit, concealed his mortification as he best might, and

politely expressed his sense of the emperor’s munificence. “It made him

only the more desirous,” he said, “to have a personal interview with

him. He should feel it, indeed, impossible to present himself again

before his own sovereign, without having accomplished this great object

of his voyage; and one who had sailed over two thousand leagues of ocean

held lightly the perils and fatigues of so short a journey by land.” He

once more requested them to become the bearers of his message to their

master, together with a slight additional token of his respect.

This consisted of a few fine Holland shirts, a Florentine goblet, gilt

and somewhat curiously enamelled, with some toys of little value,--a

sorry return for the solid magnificence of the royal present. The

ambassadors may have thought as much. At least, they showed no alacrity

in charging themselves either with the present or the message, and, on

quitting the Castilian quarters, repeated their assurance that the

general’s application would be unavailing.[20]

The splendid treasure, which now lay dazzling the eyes of the Spaniards,

raised in their bosom very different emotions, according to the

difference of their characters. Some it stimulated with the ardent

desire to strike at once into the interior and possess themselves of a

country which teemed with such boundless stores of wealth. Others looked

on it as the evidence of a power altogether too formidable to be

encountered with their present insignificant force. They thought,

therefore, it would be most prudent to return and report their

proceedings to the governor of Cuba, where preparations could be made

commensurate with so vast an undertaking. There can be little doubt as

to the impression made on the bold spirit of Cortés, on which

difficulties ever operated as incentives, rather than discouragements,

to enterprise. But he prudently said nothing,--at least in

public,--preferring that so important a movement should flow from the

determination of his whole army, rather than from his own individual

impulse.

Meanwhile the soldiers suffered greatly from the inconveniences of their

position amidst burning sands and the pestilent effluvia of the

neighboring marshes, while the venomous insects of these hot regions

left them no repose, day or night. Thirty of their number had already

sickened and died; a loss that could ill be afforded by the little band.

To add to their troubles, the coldness of the Mexican chiefs had

extended to their followers; and the supplies for the camp were not only

much diminished, but the prices set on them were exorbitant. The

position was equally unfavorable for the shipping, which lay in an open

roadstead, exposed to the fury of the first _norte_ which should sweep

the Mexican Gulf.

The general was induced by these circumstances to despatch two vessels,

under Francisco de Montejo, with the experienced Alaminos for his pilot,

to explore the coast in a northerly direction, and see if a safer port

and more commodious quarters for the army could not be found there.

After the lapse of ten days the Mexican envoys returned. They entered

the Spanish quarters with the same formality as on the former visit,

bearing with them an additional present of rich stuffs and metallic

ornaments, which, though inferior in value to those before brought, were

estimated at three thousand ounces of gold. Besides these, there were

four precious stones, of a considerable size, resembling emeralds,

called by the natives _chalchuites_, each of which, as they assured the

Spaniards, was worth more than a load of gold, and was designed as a

mark of particular respect for the Spanish monarch.[21] Unfortunately,

they were not worth as many loads of earth in Europe.

Montezuma’s answer was in substance the same as before. It contained a

positive prohibition for the strangers to advance nearer to the capital,

and expressed his confidence that, now they had obtained what they had

most desired, they would return to their own country without unnecessary

delay. Cortés received this unpalatable response courteously, though

somewhat coldly, and, turning to his officers, exclaimed, “This is a

rich and powerful prince indeed; yet it shall go hard but we will one

day pay him a visit in his capital!”

While they were conversing, the bell struck for vespers. At the sound,

the soldiers, throwing themselves on their knees, offered up their

orisons before the large wooden cross planted in the sands. As the Aztec

chiefs gazed with curious surprise, Cortés thought it a favorable

occasion to impress them with what he conceived to be a principal object

of his visit to the country. Father Olmedo accordingly expounded, as

briefly and clearly as he could, the great doctrines of Christianity,

touching on the atonement, the passion, and the resurrection, and

concluding with assuring his astonished audience that it was their

intention to extirpate the idolatrous practices of the nation and to

substitute the pure worship of the true God. He then put into their

hands a little image of the Virgin with the infant Redeemer, requesting

them to place it in their temples instead of their sanguinary deities.

How far the Aztec lords comprehended the mysteries of the faith, as

conveyed through the double version of Aguilar and Marina, or how well

they perceived the subtle distinctions between their own images and

those of the Roman Church, we are not informed. There is reason to fear,

however, that the seed fell on barren ground; for, when the homily of

the good father ended, they withdrew with an air of dubious reserve very

different from their friendly manners at the first interview. The same

night every hut was deserted by the natives, and the Spaniards saw

themselves suddenly cut off from supplies in the midst of a desolate

wilderness. The movement had so suspicious an appearance that Cortés

apprehended an attack would be made on his quarters, and took

precautions accordingly. But none was meditated.

The army was at length cheered by the return of Montejo from his

exploring expedition, after an absence of twelve days. He had run down

the Gulf as far as Panuco, where he experienced such heavy gales, in

attempting to double that headland, that he was driven back, and had

nearly foundered. In the whole course of the voyage he had found only

one place tolerably sheltered from the north winds. Fortunately, the

adjacent country, well watered by fresh, running streams, afforded a

favorable position for the camp; and thither, after some deliberation,

it was determined to repair.[22]

CHAPTER VII

TROUBLES IN THE CAMP--PLAN OF A COLONY--MANAGEMENT OF CORTÉS--MARCH

TO CEMPOALLA--PROCEEDINGS WITH THE NATIVES--FOUNDATION OF VERA CRUZ

1519

There is no situation which tries so severely the patience and

discipline of the soldier as a life of idleness in camp, where his

thoughts, instead of being bent on enterprise and action, are fastened

on himself and the inevitable privations and dangers of his condition.

This was particularly the case in the present instance, where, in

addition to the evils of a scanty subsistence, the troops suffered from

excessive heat, swarms of venomous insects, and the other annoyances of

a sultry climate. They were, moreover, far from possessing the character

of regular forces, trained to subordination under a commander whom they

had long been taught to reverence and obey. They were soldiers of

fortune, embarked with him in an adventure in which all seemed to have

an equal stake, and they regarded their captain--the captain of a

day--as little more than an equal.

There was a growing discontent among the men at their longer residence

in this strange land. They were still more dissatisfied on learning the

general’s intention to remove to the neighborhood of the port discovered

by Montejo. “It was time to return,” they said, “and report what had

been done to the governor of Cuba, and not linger on these barren shores

until they had brought the whole Mexican empire on their heads!” Cortés

evaded their importunities as well as he could, assuring them there was

no cause for despondency. “Everything so far had gone on prosperously,

and, when they had taken up a more favorable position, there was no

reason to doubt they might still continue the same profitable

intercourse with the natives.”

While this was passing, five Indians made their appearance in the camp

one morning, and were brought to the general’s tent. Their dress and

whole appearance were different from those of the Mexicans. They wore

rings of gold, and gems of bright blue stone in their ears and nostrils,

while a gold leaf delicately wrought was attached to the under lip.

Marina was unable to comprehend their language; but, on her addressing

them in Aztec, two of them, it was found, could converse in that tongue.

They said they were natives of Cempoalla, the chief town of the

Totonacs, a powerful nation who had come upon the great plateau many

centuries back, and, descending its eastern slope, settled along the

sierras and broad plains which skirt the Mexican Gulf towards the north.

Their country was one of the recent conquests of the Aztecs, and they

experienced such vexatious oppressions from their conquerors as made

them very impatient of the yoke. They informed Cortés of these and other

particulars. The fame of the Spaniards had reached their master, who

sent these messengers to request the presence of the wonderful strangers

in his capital.

This communication was eagerly listened to by the general, who, it will

be remembered, was possessed of none of those facts, laid before the

reader, respecting the internal condition of the kingdom, which he had

no reason to suppose other than strong and united. An important truth

now flashed on his mind, as his quick eye descried in this spirit of

discontent a potent lever, by the aid of which he might hope to overturn

this barbaric empire. He received the mission of the Totonacs most

graciously, and, after informing himself, as far as possible, of their

dispositions and resources, dismissed them with presents, promising soon

to pay a visit to their lord.[23]

Meanwhile, his personal friends, among whom may be particularly

mentioned Alonso Hernandez Puertocarrero, Cristóbal de Olid, Alonso de

Avila, Pedro de Alvarado and his brothers, were very busy in persuading

the troops to take such measures as should enable Cortés to go forward

in those ambitious plans for which he had no warrant from the powers of

Velasquez. “To return now,” they said, “was to abandon the enterprise on

the threshold, which, under such a leader, must conduct to glory and

incalculable riches. To return to Cuba would be to surrender to the

greedy governor the little gains they had already got. The only way was

to persuade the general to establish a permanent colony in the country,

the government of which would take the conduct of matters into its own

hands and provide for the interests of its members. It was true, Cortés

had no such authority from Velasquez. But the interests of the

sovereigns, which were paramount to every other, imperatively demanded

it.”

These conferences could not be conducted so secretly, though held by

night, as not to reach the ears of the friends of Velasquez.[24] They

remonstrated against the proceedings, as insidious and disloyal. They

accused the general of instigating them, and, calling on him to take

measures without delay for the return of the troops to Cuba, announced

their own intention to depart, with such followers as still remained

true to the governor.

Cortés, instead of taking umbrage at this high-handed proceeding, or

even answering in the same haughty tone, mildly replied “that nothing

was further from his desire than to exceed his instructions. He, indeed,

preferred to remain in the country, and continue his profitable

intercourse with the natives. But, since the army thought otherwise, he

should defer to their opinion, and give orders to return, as they

desired.” On the following morning, proclamation was made for the troops

to hold themselves in readiness to embark at once on board the fleet,

which was to sail for Cuba.[25]

Great was the sensation caused by their general’s order. Even many of

those before clamorous for it, with the usual caprice of men whose

wishes are too easily gratified, now regretted it. The partisans of

Cortés were loud in their remonstrances. “They were betrayed by the

general,” they cried, and, thronging round his tent, called on him to

countermand his orders. “We came here,” said they, “expecting to form a

settlement, if the state of the country authorized it. Now it seems you

have no warrant from the governor to make one. But there are interests,

higher than those of Velasquez, which demand it. These territories are

not his property, but were discovered for the sovereigns;[26] and it is

necessary to plant a colony to watch over their interests, instead of

wasting time in idle barter, or, still worse, of returning, in the

present state of affairs, to Cuba. If you refuse,” they concluded, “we

shall protest against your conduct as disloyal to their Highnesses.”

Cortés received this remonstrance with the embarrassed air of one by

whom it was altogether unexpected. He modestly requested time for

deliberation, and promised to give his answer on the following day. At

the time appointed, he called the troops together, and made them a brief

address. “There was no one,” he said, “if he knew his own heart, more

deeply devoted than himself to the welfare of his sovereigns and the

glory of the Spanish name. He had not only expended his all, but

incurred heavy debts, to meet the charges of this expedition, and had

hoped to reimburse himself by continuing his traffic with the Mexicans.

But, if the soldiers thought a different course advisable, he was ready

to postpone his own advantage to the good of the state.”[27] He

concluded by declaring his willingness to take measures for settling a

colony _in the name of the Spanish sovereigns_, and to nominate a

magistracy to preside over it.[28]

For the _alcaldes_ he selected Puertocarrero and Montejo, the former

cavalier his fast friend, and the latter the friend of Velasquez, and

chosen for that very reason; a stroke of policy which perfectly

succeeded. The _regidores_, _alguacil_, treasurer, and other

functionaries were then appointed, all of them his personal friends and

adherents. They were regularly sworn into office, and the new city

received the title of _Villa Rica de Vera Cruz_, “The Rich Town of the

True Cross;” a name which was considered as happily intimating that

union of spiritual and temporal interests to which the arms of the

Spanish adventurers in the New World were to be devoted.[29] Thus, by a

single stroke of the pen, as it were, the camp was transformed into a

civil community, and the whole frame-work and even title of the city

were arranged, before the site of it had been settled.

The new municipality were not slow in coming together; when Cortés

presented himself, cap in hand, before that august body, and, laying the

powers of Velasquez on the table, respectfully tendered the resignation

of his office of Captain-General, “which, indeed,” he said, “had

necessarily expired, since the authority of the governor was now

superseded by that of the magistracy of Villa Rica de Vera Cruz.” He

then, with a profound obeisance, left the apartment.[30]

The council, after a decent time spent in deliberation, again requested

his presence. “There was no one,” they said, “who, on mature reflection,

appeared to them so well qualified to take charge of the interests of

the community, both in peace and in war, as himself; and they

unanimously named him, in behalf of their Catholic Highnesses,

Captain-General and Chief Justice of the colony.” He was further

empowered to draw, on his own account, one-fifth of the gold and silver

which might hereafter be obtained by commerce or conquest from the

natives.[31] Thus clothed with supreme civil and military jurisdiction,

Cortés was not backward in asserting his authority. He found speedy

occasion for it.

The transactions above described had succeeded each other so rapidly

that the governor’s party seemed to be taken by surprise, and had formed

no plan of opposition. When the last measure was carried, however, they

broke forth into the most indignant and opprobrious invectives,

denouncing the whole as a systematic conspiracy against Velasquez.

These accusations led to recrimination from the soldiers of the other

side, until from words they nearly proceeded to blows. Some of the

principal cavaliers, among them Velasquez de Leon, a kinsman of the

governor, Escobar, his page, and Diego de Ordaz, were so active in

instigating these turbulent movements that Cortés took the bold measure

of putting them all in irons and sending them on board the vessels. He

then dispersed the common file by detaching many of them with a strong

party under Alvarado to forage the neighboring country and bring home

provisions for the destitute camp.

During their absence, every argument that cupidity or ambition could

suggest was used to win the refractory to his views. Promises, and even

gold, it is said, were liberally lavished; till, by degrees, their

understandings were opened to a clearer view of the merits of the case.

And when the foraging party reappeared with abundance of poultry and

vegetables, and the cravings of the stomach--that great laboratory of

disaffection, whether in camp or capital--were appeased, good humor

returned with good cheer, and the rival factions embraced one another as

companions in arms, pledged to a common cause. Even the high-mettled

hidalgos on board the vessels did not long withstand the general tide of

reconciliation, but one by one gave in their adhesion to the new

government. What is more remarkable is that this forced conversion was

not a hollow one, but from this time forward several of these very

cavaliers became the most steady and devoted partisans of Cortés.[32]

Such was the address of this extraordinary man, and such the ascendency

which in a few months he had acquired over these wild and turbulent

spirits! By this ingenious transformation of a military into a civil

community, he had secured a new and effectual basis for future

operations. He might now go forward without fear of check or control

from a superior,--at least from any other superior than the crown, under

which alone he held his commission. In accomplishing this, instead of

incurring the charge of usurpation or of transcending his legitimate

powers, he had transferred the responsibility, in a great measure, to

those who had imposed on him the necessity of action. By this step,

moreover, he had linked the fortunes of his followers indissolubly with

his own. They had taken their chance with him, and, whether for weal or

for woe, must abide the consequences. He was no longer limited to the

narrow concerns of a sordid traffic, but, sure of their co-operation,

might now boldly meditate, and gradually disclose, those lofty schemes

which he had formed in his own bosom for the conquest of an empire.[33]

Harmony being thus restored, Cortés sent his heavy guns on board the

fleet, and ordered it to coast along the shore to the north as far as

Chiahuitztla,{*} the town near which the destined port of the new city

was situated; proposing, himself, at the head of his troops, to visit

Cempoalla, on the march. The road lay for some miles across the dreary

plains in the neighborhood of the modern Vera Cruz. In this sandy waste

no signs of vegetation met their eyes, which, however, were occasionally

refreshed by glimpses of the blue Atlantic, and by the distant view of

the magnificent Orizaba, towering, with his spotless diadem of snow, far

above his colossal brethren of the Andes.[34] As they advanced, the

country gradually assumed a greener and richer aspect. They crossed a

river, probably a tributary of the _Rio de la Antigua_, with difficulty,

on rafts, and on some broken canoes that were lying on the banks. They

now came in view of very different scenery,--wide-rolling plains covered

with a rich carpet of verdure and overshadowed by groves of cocoas and

feathery palms, among whose tall, slender stems were seen deer, and

various wild animals with which the Spaniards were unacquainted. Some of

the horsemen gave chase to the deer, and wounded, but did not succeed in

killing them. They saw, also, pheasants and other birds; among them the

wild turkey, the pride of the American forest, which the Spaniards

described as a species of peacock.[35]

{*} [According to Ixtlilxochitl, Hist. Chich., MS., 289, Quiahuiztlan,

_i.e._, Rainy Place.--M.]

On their route they passed through some deserted villages, in which were

Indian temples, where they found censers, and other sacred utensils, and

manuscripts of the _agave_ fibre, containing the picture-writing, in

which, probably, their religious ceremonies were recorded. They now

beheld, also, the hideous spectacle, with which they became afterwards

familiar, of the mutilated corpses of victims who had been sacrificed to

the accursed deities of the land. The Spaniards turned with loathing and

indignation from a display of butchery which formed so dismal a

contrast to the fair scenes of nature by which they were surrounded.

They held their course along the banks of the river, towards its source,

when they were met by twelve Indians, sent by the cacique of Cempoalla

to show them the way to his residence. At night they bivouacked in an

open meadow, where they were well supplied with provisions by their new

friends. They left the stream on the following morning, and, striking

northerly across the country, came upon a wide expanse of luxuriant

plains and woodland, glowing in all the splendor of tropical vegetation.

The branches of the stately trees were gayly festooned with clustering

vines of the dark-purple grape, variegated convolvuli, and other

flowering parasites of the most brilliant dyes. The undergrowth of

prickly aloe, matted with wild rose and honeysuckle, made in many places

an almost impervious thicket. Amid this wilderness of sweet-smelling

buds and blossoms fluttered numerous birds of the parrot tribe, and

clouds of butterflies, whose gaudy colors, nowhere so gorgeous as in the

_tierra caliente_, rivalled those of the vegetable creation; while birds

of exquisite song, the scarlet cardinal, and the marvellous

mocking-bird, that comprehends in his own notes the whole music of a

forest, filled the air with delicious melody. The hearts of the stern

Conquerors were not very sensible to the beauties of nature. But the

magical charms of the scenery drew forth unbounded expressions of

delight, and as they wandered through this “terrestrial paradise,” as

they called it, they fondly compared it to the fairest regions of their

own sunny land.[36]

As they approached the Indian city, they saw abundant signs of

cultivation, in the trim gardens and orchards that lined both sides of

the road. They were now met by parties of the natives, of either sex,

who increased in numbers with every step of their progress. The women,

as well as men, mingled fearlessly among the soldiers, bearing bunches

and wreaths of flowers, with which they decorated the neck of the

general’s charger, and hung a chaplet of roses about his helmet. Flowers

were the delight of this people. They bestowed much care in their

cultivation, in which they were well seconded by a climate of alternate

heat and moisture, stimulating the soil to the spontaneous production of

every form of vegetable life. The same refined taste, as we shall see,

prevailed among the warlike Aztecs, and has survived the degradation of

the nation in their descendants of the present day.[37]

Many of the women appeared, from their richer dress and numerous

attendants, to be persons of rank. They were clad in robes of fine

cotton, curiously colored, which reached from the neck--in the inferior

orders, from the waist--to the ankles. The men wore a sort of mantle of

the same material, _á la Morisca_, in the Moorish fashion, over their

shoulders, and belts or sashes about the loins. Both sexes had jewels

and ornaments of gold round their necks, while their ears and nostrils

were perforated with rings of the same metal.

Just before reaching the town, some horsemen who had ridden in advance

returned with the amazing intelligence “that they had been near enough

to look within the gates, and found the houses all plated with burnished

silver!” On entering the place, the silver was found to be nothing more

than a brilliant coating of stucco, with which the principal buildings

were covered; a circumstance which produced much merriment among the

soldiers at the expense of their credulous comrades. Such ready

credulity is a proof of the exalted state of their imaginations, which

were prepared to see gold and silver in every object around them.[38]

The edifices of the better kind were of stone and lime, or bricks dried

in the sun; the poorer were of clay and earth. All were thatched with

palm-leaves, which, though a flimsy roof, apparently, for such

structures, were so nicely interwoven as to form a very effectual

protection against the weather.

The city was said to contain from twenty to thirty thousand inhabitants.

This is the most moderate computation, and not improbable.[39] Slowly

and silently the little army paced the narrow and now crowded streets of

Cempoalla, inspiring the natives with no greater wonder than they

themselves experienced at the display of a policy and refinement so far

superior to anything they had witnessed in the New World.[40] The

cacique came out in front of his residence to receive them. He was a

tall and very corpulent man, and advanced leaning on two of his

attendants. He received Cortés and his followers with great courtesy,

and, after a brief interchange of civilities, assigned the army its

quarters in a neighboring temple, into the spacious court-yard of which

a number of apartments opened, affording excellent accommodation for

the soldiery.

Here the Spaniards were well supplied with provisions, meat cooked after

the fashion of the country, and maize made into bread-cakes. The general

received, also, a present of considerable value from the cacique,

consisting of ornaments of gold and fine cottons. Notwithstanding these

friendly demonstrations, Cortés did not relax his habitual vigilance,

nor neglect any of the precautions of a good soldier. On his route,

indeed, he had always marched in order of battle, well prepared against

surprise. In his present quarters, he stationed his sentinels with like

care, posted his small artillery so as to command the entrance, and

forbade any soldier to leave the camp without orders, under pain of

death.[41]

The following morning, Cortés, accompanied by fifty of his men, paid a

visit to the lord of Cempoalla in his own residence. It was a building

of stone and lime, standing on a steep terrace of earth, and was reached

by a flight of stone steps. It may have borne resemblance in its

structure to some of the ancient buildings found in Central America.

Cortés, leaving his soldiers in the courtyard, entered the mansion with

one of his officers, and his fair interpreter, Doña Marina.[42] A long

conference ensued, from which the Spanish general gathered much light

respecting the state of the country. He first announced to the chief

that he was the subject of a great monarch who dwelt beyond the waters;

that he had come to the Aztec shores to abolish the inhuman worship

which prevailed there, and to introduce the knowledge of the true God.

The cacique replied that their gods, who sent them the sunshine and the

rain, were good enough for them; that he was the tributary of a powerful

monarch also, whose capital stood on a lake far off among the

mountains,--a stern prince, merciless in his exactions, and, in case of

resistance, or any offence, sure to wreak his vengeance by carrying off

their young men and maidens to be sacrificed to his deities. Cortés

assured him that he would never consent to such enormities; he had been

sent by his sovereign to redress abuses and to punish the oppressor;[43]

and, if the Totonacs would be true to him, he would enable them to throw

off the detested yoke of the Aztecs.

The cacique added that the Totonac territory contained about thirty

towns and villages, which could muster a hundred thousand warriors,--a

number much exaggerated.[44] There were other provinces of the empire,

he said, where the Aztec rule was equally odious; and between him and

the capital lay the warlike republic of Tlascala, which had always

maintained its independence of Mexico. The fame of the Spaniards had

gone before them, and he was well acquainted with their terrible

victory at Tabasco. But still he looked with doubt and alarm to a

rupture with “the great Montezuma,” as he always styled him; whose

armies, on the least provocation, would pour down from the mountain

regions of the West, and, rushing over the plains like a whirlwind,

sweep off the wretched people to slavery and sacrifice!

Cortés endeavored to reassure him, by declaring that a single Spaniard

was stronger than a host of Aztecs. At the same time, it was desirable

to know what nations would co-operate with him, not so much on his

account as theirs, that he might distinguish friend from foe and know

whom he was to spare in this war of extermination. Having raised the

confidence of the admiring chief by this comfortable and politic vaunt,

he took an affectionate leave, with the assurance that he would shortly

return and concert measures for their future operations, when he had

visited his ships in the adjoining port and secured a permanent

settlement there.[45]

The intelligence gained by Cortés gave great satisfaction to his mind.

It confirmed his former views, and showed, indeed, the interior of the

monarchy to be in a state far more distracted than he had supposed. If

he had before scarcely shrunk from attacking the Aztec empire, in the

true spirit of a knight-errant, with his single arm, as it were, what

had he now to fear, when one half of the nation could be thus

marshalled against the other? In the excitement of the moment, his

sanguine spirit kindled with an enthusiasm which overleaped every

obstacle. He communicated his own feelings to the officers about him,

and, before a blow was struck, they already felt as if the banners of

Spain were waving in triumph from the towers of Montezuma! But many a

bloody field was to be fought, many a peril and privation to be

encountered, before that consummation could be attained.

Taking leave of the hospitable Indian, on the following day the

Spaniards took the road to Chiahuitztla,[46] about four leagues distant,

near which was the port discovered by Montejo, where their ships were

now riding at anchor. They were provided by the cacique with four

hundred Indian porters, _tamanes_, as they were called, to transport the

baggage. These men easily carried fifty pounds’ weight five or six

leagues in a day. They were in use all over the Mexican empire, and the

Spaniards found them of great service, henceforth, in relieving the

troops from this part of their duty. They passed through a country of

the same rich, voluptuous character as that which they had lately

traversed, and arrived early next morning at the Indian town, perched

like a fortress on a bold, rocky eminence that commanded the Gulf. Most

of the inhabitants had fled, but fifteen of the principal men remained,

who received them in a friendly manner, offering the usual compliments

of flowers and incense. The people of the place, losing their fears,

gradually returned. While conversing with the chiefs, the Spaniards were

joined by the worthy cacique of Cempoalla, borne by his men on a litter.

He eagerly took part in their deliberations. The intelligence gained

here by Cortés confirmed the accounts already gathered of the feelings

and resources of the Totonac nation.

In the midst of their conference, they were interrupted by a movement

among the people, and soon afterwards five men entered the great square

or market-place, where they were standing. By their lofty port, their

peculiar and much richer dress, they seemed not to be of the same race

as these Indians. Their dark, glossy hair was tied in a knot on the top

of the head. They had bunches of flowers in their hands, and were

followed by several attendants, some bearing wands with cords, others

fans, with which they brushed away the flies and insects from their

lordly masters. As these persons passed through the place, they cast a

haughty look on the Spaniards, scarcely deigning to return their

salutations. They were immediately joined, in great confusion, by the

Totonac chiefs, who seemed anxious to conciliate them by every kind of

attention.

The general, much astonished, inquired of Marina what it meant. She

informed him they were Aztec nobles, empowered to receive the tribute

for Montezuma. Soon after, the chiefs returned with dismay painted on

their faces. They confirmed Marina’s statement, adding that the Aztecs

greatly resented the entertainment afforded the Spaniards without the

Emperor’s permission, and demanded in expiation twenty young men and

women for sacrifice to the gods. Cortés showed the strongest indignation

at this insolence. He required the Totonacs not only to refuse the

demand, but to arrest the persons of the collectors and throw them into

prison. The chiefs hesitated, but he insisted on it so peremptorily that

they at length complied, and the Aztecs were seized, bound hand and

foot, and placed under a guard.

In the night, the Spanish general procured the escape of two of them,

and had them brought secretly before him. He expressed his regret at the

indignity they had experienced from the Totonacs; told them he would

provide means for their flight, and to-morrow would endeavor to obtain

the release of their companions. He desired them to report this to their

master, with assurances of the great regard the Spaniards entertained

for him, notwithstanding his ungenerous behavior in leaving them to

perish from want on his barren shores. He then sent the Mexican nobles

down to the port, whence they were carried to another part of the coast

by water, for fear of the violence of the Totonacs. These were greatly

incensed at the escape of the prisoners, and would have sacrificed the

remainder at once, but for the Spanish commander, who evinced the utmost

horror at the proposal, and ordered them to be sent for safe custody on

board the fleet. Soon after, they were permitted to join their

companions. This artful proceeding, so characteristic of the policy of

Cortés, had, as we shall see hereafter, all the effect intended on

Montezuma. It cannot be commended, certainly, as in the true spirit of

chivalry. Yet it has not wanted its panegyrist among the national

historians![47]

By order of Cortés, messengers were despatched to the Totonac towns to

report what had been done, calling on them to refuse the payment of

further tribute to Montezuma. But there was no need of messengers. The

affrighted attendants of the Aztec lords had fled in every direction,

bearing the tidings, which spread like wildfire through the country, of

the daring insult offered to the majesty of Mexico. The astonished

Indians, cheered with the sweet hope of regaining their ancient liberty,

came in numbers to Chiahuitztla, to see and confer with the formidable

strangers. The more timid, dismayed at the thought of encountering the

power of Montezuma, recommended an embassy to avert his displeasure by

timely concessions. But the dexterous management of Cortés had committed

them too far to allow any reasonable expectation of indulgence from this

quarter. After some hesitation, therefore, it was determined to embrace

the protection of the Spaniards, and to make one bold effort for the

recovery of freedom. Oaths of allegiance were taken by the chiefs to the

Spanish sovereigns, and duly recorded by Godoy, the royal notary.

Cortés, satisfied with the important acquisition of so many vassals to

the crown, set out soon after for the destined port, having first

promised to revisit Cempoalla, where his business was but partially

accomplished.[48]

The spot selected for the new city was only half a league distant, in a

wide and fruitful plain, affording a tolerable haven for the shipping.

Cortés was not long in determining the circuit of the walls, and the

sites of the fort, granary, townhouse, temple, and other public

buildings. The friendly Indians eagerly assisted, by bringing materials,

stone, lime, wood, and bricks dried in the sun. Every man put his hand

to the work. The general labored with the meanest of the soldiers,

stimulating their exertions by his example as well as voice. In a few

weeks the task was accomplished, and a town rose up, which, if not quite

worthy of the aspiring name it bore, answered most of the purposes for

which it was intended. It served as a good _point d’appui_ for future

operations; a place of retreat for the disabled, as well as for the army

in case of reverses; a magazine for stores, and for such articles as

might be received from or sent to the mother-country; a port for the

shipping; a position of sufficient strength to over-awe the adjacent

country.[49]

It was the first colony--the fruitful parent of so many others--in New

Spain. It was hailed with satisfaction by the simple natives, who hoped

to repose in safety under its protecting shadow. Alas! they could not

read the future, or they would have found no cause to rejoice in this

harbinger of a revolution more tremendous than any predicted by their

bards and prophets. It was not the good Quetzalcoatl who had returned to

claim his own again, bringing peace, freedom, and civilization in his

train. Their fetters, indeed, would be broken, and their wrongs be amply

avenged on the proud head of the Aztec. But it was to be by that strong

arm which should bow down equally the oppressor and the oppressed. The

light of civilization would be poured on their land. But it would be the

light of a consuming fire, before which their barbaric glory, their

institutions, their very existence and name as a nation, would wither

and become extinct! Their doom was sealed when the white man had set his

foot on their soil.

CHAPTER VIII

ANOTHER AZTEC EMBASSY--DESTRUCTION OF THE IDOLS--DESPATCHES SENT TO

SPAIN--CONSPIRACY IN THE CAMP--THE FLEET SUNK

1519

While the Spaniards were occupied with their new settlement, they were

surprised by the presence of an embassy from Mexico. The account of the

imprisonment of the royal collectors had spread rapidly through the

country. When it reached the capital, all were filled with amazement at

the unprecedented daring of the strangers. In Montezuma every other

feeling, even that of fear, was swallowed up in indignation; and he

showed his wonted energy in the vigorous preparations which he instantly

made to punish his rebellious vassals and to avenge the insult offered

to the majesty of the empire. But when the Aztec officers liberated by

Cortés reached the capital and reported the courteous treatment they had

received from the Spanish commander, Montezuma’s anger was mitigated,

and his superstitious fears, getting the ascendency again, induced him

to resume his former timid and conciliatory policy. He accordingly sent

an embassy, consisting of two youths, his nephews, and four of the

ancient nobles of his court, to the Spanish quarters. He provided them,

in his usual munificent spirit, with a princely donation of gold, rich

cotton stuffs, and beautiful mantles of the _plumaje_, or feather

embroidery. The envoys, on coming before Cortés, presented him with the

articles, at the same time offering the acknowledgments of their master

for the courtesy he had shown in liberating his captive nobles. He was

surprised and afflicted, however, that the Spaniards should have

countenanced his faithless vassals in their rebellion. He had no doubt

they were the strangers whose arrival had been so long announced by the

oracles, and of the same lineage with himself.[50] From deference to

them he would spare the Totonacs, while they were present. But the time

for vengeance would come.

Cortés entertained the Indian chieftains with frank hospitality. At the

same time, he took care to make such a display of his resources as,

while it amused their minds, should leave a deep impression of his

power. He then, after a few trifling gifts, dismissed them with a

conciliatory message to their master, and the assurance that he should

soon pay his respects to him in his capital, where all misunderstanding

between them would be readily adjusted.

The Totonac allies could scarcely credit their senses, when they

gathered the nature of this interview. Notwithstanding the presence of

the Spaniards, they had looked with apprehension to the consequences of

their rash act; and their feelings of admiration were heightened into

awe for the strangers who, at this distance, could exercise so

mysterious an influence over the terrible Montezuma.[51]

Not long after, the Spaniards received an application from the cacique

of Cempoalla to aid him in a dispute in which he was engaged with a

neighboring city. Cortés marched with a part of his forces to his

support. On the route, one Morla, a common soldier, robbed a native of a

couple of fowls. Cortés, indignant at this violation of his orders

before his face, and aware of the importance of maintaining a reputation

for good faith with his allies, commanded the man to be hung up, at

once, by the roadside, in face of the whole army. Fortunately for the

poor wretch, Pedro de Alvarado, the future conqueror of Quiché, was

present, and ventured to cut down the body while there was yet life in

it. He, probably, thought enough had been done for example, and the loss

of a single life, unnecessarily, was more than the little band could

afford. The anecdote is characteristic, as showing the strict discipline

maintained by Cortés over his men, and the freedom assumed by his

captains, who regarded him on terms nearly of equality,--as a

fellow-adventurer with themselves. This feeling of companionship led to

a spirit of insubordination among them, which made his own post as

commander the more delicate and difficult.

On reaching the hostile city, but a few leagues from the coast, they

were received in an amicable manner; and Cortés, who was accompanied by

his allies, had the satisfaction of reconciling these different branches

of the Totonac family with each other, without bloodshed. He then

returned to Cempoalla, where he was welcomed with joy by the people, who

were now impressed with as favorable an opinion of his moderation and

justice as they had before been of his valor. In token of his gratitude,

the Indian cacique delivered to the general eight Indian maidens, richly

dressed, wearing collars and ornaments of gold, with a number of female

slaves to wait on them. They were daughters of the principal chiefs, and

the cacique requested that the Spanish captains might take them as their

wives. Cortés received the damsels courteously, but told the cacique

they must first be baptized, as the sons of the Church could have no

commerce with idolaters.[52] He then declared that it was a great object

of his mission to wean the natives from their heathenish abominations,

and besought the Totonac lord to allow his idols to be cast down, and

the symbols of the true faith to be erected in their place.

To this the other answered, as before, that his gods were good enough

for him; nor could all the persuasion of the general, nor the preaching

of Father Olmedo, induce him to acquiesce. Mingled with his polytheism,

he had conceptions of a Supreme and Infinite Being, Creator of the

Universe, and his darkened understanding could not comprehend how such a

Being could condescend to take the form of humanity, with its

infirmities and ills, and wander about on earth, the voluntary victim of

persecution from the hands of those whom his breath had called into

existence.[53] He plainly told the Spaniards that he would resist any

violence offered to his gods, who would, indeed, avenge the act

themselves, by the instant destruction of their enemies.

But the zeal of the Christians had mounted too high to be cooled by

remonstrance or menace. During their residence in the land, they had

witnessed more than once the barbarous rites of the natives, their cruel

sacrifices of human victims, and their disgusting cannibal repasts.[54]

Their souls sickened at these abominations, and they agreed with one

voice to stand by their general, when he told them that “Heaven would

never smile on their enterprise if they countenanced such atrocities,

and that, for his own part, he was resolved the Indian idols should be

demolished that very hour, if it cost him his life.” To postpone the

work of conversion was a sin. In the enthusiasm of the moment, the

dictates of policy and ordinary prudence were alike unheeded.

Scarcely waiting for his commands, the Spaniards moved towards one of

the principal _teocallis_, or temples, which rose high on a pyramidal

foundation, with a steep ascent of stone steps in the middle. The

cacique, divining their purpose, instantly called his men to arms. The

Indian warriors gathered from all quarters, with shrill cries and

clashing of weapons; while the priests, in their dark cotton robes, with

dishevelled tresses, matted with blood, flowing wildly over their

shoulders, rushed frantic among the natives, calling on them to protect

their gods from violation! All was now confusion, tumult, and warlike

menace, where so lately had been peace and the sweet brotherhood of

nations.

Cortés took his usual prompt and decided measures. He caused the cacique

and some of the principal inhabitants and priests to be arrested by his

soldiers. He then commanded them to quiet the people, for, if an arrow

was shot against a Spaniard, it should cost every one of them his life.

Marina, at the same time, represented the madness of resistance, and

reminded the cacique that if he now alienated the affections of the

Spaniards he would be left without a protector against the terrible

vengeance of Montezuma. These temporal considerations seem to have had

more weight with the Totonac chieftain than those of a more spiritual

nature. He covered his face with his hands, exclaiming that the gods

would avenge their own wrongs.

The Christians were not slow in availing themselves of his tacit

acquiescence. Fifty soldiers, at a signal from their general, sprang up

the great stairway of the temple, entered the building on the summit,

the walls of which were black with human gore, tore the huge wooden

idols from their foundations, and dragged them to the edge of the

terrace. Their fantastic forms and features, conveying a symbolic

meaning, which was lost on the Spaniards, seemed in their eyes only the

hideous lineaments of Satan. With great alacrity they rolled the

colossal monsters down the steps of the pyramid, amidst the triumphant

shouts of their own companions, and the groans and lamentations of the

natives. They then consummated the whole by burning them in the presence

of the assembled multitude.

The same effect followed as in Cozumel. The Totonacs, finding their

deities incapable of preventing or even punishing this profanation of

their shrines, conceived a mean opinion of their power, compared with

that of the mysterious and formidable strangers. The floor and walls of

the _teocalli_ were then cleansed, by command of Cortés, from their foul

impurities; a fresh coating of stucco was laid on them by the Indian

masons; and an altar was raised, surmounted by a lofty cross, and hung

with garlands of roses. A procession was next formed, in which some of

the principal Totonac priests, exchanging their dark mantles for robes

of white, carried lighted candles in their hands; while an image of the

Virgin, half smothered under the weight of flowers, was borne aloft,

and, as the procession climbed the steps of the temple, was deposited

above the altar. Mass was performed by Father Olmedo, and the impressive

character of the ceremony and the passionate eloquence of the good

priest touched the feelings of the motley audience, until Indians as

well as Spaniards, if we may trust the chronicler, were melted into

tears and audible sobs. The Protestant missionary seeks to enlighten the

understanding of his convert by the pale light of reason. But the bolder

Catholic, kindling the spirit by the splendor of the spectacle and by

the glowing portrait of an agonized Redeemer, sweeps along his hearers

in a tempest of passion, that drowns everything like reflection. He has

secured his convert, however, by the hold on his affections,--an easier

and more powerful hold, with the untutored savage, than reason.

An old soldier named Juan de Torres, disabled by bodily infirmity,

consented to remain and watch over the sanctuary and instruct the

natives in its services. Cortés then, embracing his Totonac allies, now

brothers in religion as in arms, set out once more for the Villa Rica,

where he had some arrangements to complete previous to his departure for

the capital.[55]

He was surprised to find that a Spanish vessel had arrived there in his

absence, having on board twelve soldiers and two horses. It was under

the command of a captain named Saucedo, a cavalier of the ocean, who had

followed in the track of Cortés in quest of adventure. Though a small,

they afforded a very seasonable body of recruits for the little army. By

these men, the Spaniards were informed that Velasquez, the governor of

Cuba, had lately received a warrant from the Spanish government to

establish a colony in the newly-discovered countries.

Cortés now resolved to put a plan in execution which he had been some

time meditating. He knew that all the late acts of the colony, as well

as his own authority, would fall to the ground without the royal

sanction. He knew, too, that the interest of Velasquez, which was great

at court, would, so soon as he was acquainted with his secession, be

wholly employed to circumvent and crush him. He resolved to anticipate

his movements, and to send a vessel to Spain with despatches addressed

to the emperor himself, announcing the nature and extent of his

discoveries, and to obtain, if possible, the confirmation of his

proceedings. In order to conciliate his master’s good will, he further

proposed to send him such a present as should suggest lofty ideas of the

importance of his own services to the crown. To effect this, the royal

fifth he considered inadequate. He conferred with his officers, and

persuaded them to relinquish their share of the treasure. At his

instance, they made a similar application to the soldiers; representing

that it was the earnest wish of the general, who set the example by

resigning his own fifth, equal to the share of the crown. It was but

little that each man was asked to surrender, but the whole would make a

present worthy of the monarch for whom it was intended. By this

sacrifice they might hope to secure his indulgence for the past and his

favor for the future; a temporary sacrifice, that would be well repaid

by the security of the rich possessions which awaited them in Mexico. A

paper was then circulated among the soldiers, which all who were

disposed to relinquish their shares were requested to sign. Those who

declined should have their claims respected, and receive the amount due

to them. No one refused to sign; thus furnishing another example of the

extraordinary power obtained by Cortés over these rapacious spirits,

who, at his call, surrendered up the very treasures which had been the

great object of their hazardous enterprise![56]

He accompanied this present with a letter to the emperor, in which he

gave a full account of all that had befallen him since his departure

from Cuba; of his various discoveries, battles, and traffic with the

natives; their conversion to Christianity; his strange perils and

sufferings; many particulars respecting the lands he had visited, and

such as he could collect in regard to the great Mexican monarchy and its

sovereign. He stated his difficulties with the governor of Cuba, the

proceedings of the army in reference to colonization, and besought the

emperor to confirm their acts, as well as his own authority, expressing

his entire confidence that he should be able, with the aid of his brave

followers, to place the Castilian crown in possession of this great

Indian empire.[57]

This was the celebrated _First Letter_, as it is called, of Cortés,

which has hitherto eluded every search that has been made for it in the

libraries of Europe.[58] Its existence is fully established by

references to it, both in his own subsequent letters, and in the

writings of contemporaries.[59] Its general purport is given by his

chaplain Gomara. The importance of the document has doubtless been much

overrated; and, should it ever come to light, it will probably be found

to add little of interest to the matter contained in the letter from

Vera Cruz, which has formed the basis of the preceding portion of our

narrative. Cortés had no sources of information beyond those open to the

authors of the latter document. He was even less full and frank in his

communications, if it be true that he suppressed all notice of the

discoveries of his two immediate predecessors.[60]

The magistrates of the Villa Rica, in their epistle, went over the same

ground with Cortés; concluding with an emphatic representation of the

misconduct of Velasquez, whose venality, extortion, and selfish devotion

to his personal interests, to the exclusion of those of his sovereigns

as well as of his own followers, they placed in a most clear and

unenviable light.[61] They implored the government not to sanction his

interference with the new colony, which would be fatal to its welfare,

but to commit the undertaking to Hernando Cortés, as the man most

capable, by his experience and conduct, of bringing it to a glorious

termination.[62]

With this letter went also another in the name of the citizen-soldiers

of Villa Rica, tendering their dutiful submission to the sovereigns, and

requesting the confirmation of their proceedings, above all, that of

Cortés as their general.

The selection of the agents for the mission was a delicate matter, as on

the result might depend the future fortunes of the colony and its

commander. Cortés intrusted the affair to two cavaliers on whom he could

rely; Francisco de Montejo, the ancient partisan of Velasquez, and

Alonso Hernandez de Puertocarrero. The latter officer was a near

kinsman of the count of Medellin, and it was hoped his high connections

might secure a favorable influence at court.

Together with the treasure, which seemed to verify the assertion that

“the land teemed with gold as abundantly as that whence Solomon drew the

same precious metal for his temple,”[63] several Indian manuscripts were

sent. Some were of cotton, others of the Mexican _agave_. Their

unintelligible characters, says a chronicler, excited little interest in

the Conquerors. As evidence of intellectual culture, however, they

formed higher objects of interest to a philosophic mind than those

costly fabrics which attested only the mechanical ingenuity of the

nation.[64] Four Indian slaves were added as specimens of the natives.

They had been rescued from the cages in which they were confined for

sacrifice. One of the best vessels of the fleet was selected for the

voyage, manned by fifteen seamen, and placed under the direction of the

pilot Alaminos. He was directed to hold his course through the Bahama

channel, north of Cuba, or Fernandina, as it was then called, and on no

account to touch at that island, or any other in the Indian Ocean. With

these instructions, the good ship took its departure on the 26th of

July, freighted with the treasures and the good wishes of the community

of the Villa Rica de Vera Cruz.

After a quick run the emissaries made the island of Cuba, and, in direct

disregard of orders, anchored before Marien, on the northern side of the

island. This was done to accommodate Montejo, who wished to visit a

plantation owned by him in the neighborhood. While off the port, a

sailor got on shore, and, crossing the island to St. Jago, the capital,

spread everywhere tidings of the expedition, until they reached the ears

of Velasquez. It was the first intelligence which had been received of

the armament since its departure; and, as the governor listened to the

recital, it would not be easy to paint the mingled emotions of

curiosity, astonishment, and wrath which agitated his bosom. In the

first sally of passion, he poured a storm of invective on the heads of

his secretary and treasurer, the friends of Cortés, who had recommended

him as the leader of the expedition. After somewhat relieving himself in

this way, he despatched two fast-sailing vessels to Marien with orders

to seize the rebel ship, and, in case of her departure, to follow and

overtake her.

But before the ships could reach that port the bird had flown, and was

far on her way across the broad Atlantic. Stung with mortification at

this fresh disappointment, Velasquez wrote letters of indignant

complaint to the government at home, and to the Hieronymite fathers in

Hispaniola, demanding redress. He obtained little satisfaction from the

latter. He resolved, however, to take the matter into his own hands, and

set about making formidable preparations for another squadron, which

should be more than a match for that under his rebellious officer. He

was indefatigable in his exertions, visiting every part of the island,

and straining all his resources to effect his purpose. The preparations

were on a scale that necessarily consumed many months.

Meanwhile the little vessel was speeding her prosperous way across the

waters, and, after touching at one of the Azores, came safely into the

harbor of St. Lucar, in the month of October. However long it may appear

in the more perfect nautical science of our day, it was reckoned a fair

voyage for that. Of what befell the commissioners on their arrival,

their reception at court, and the sensation caused by their

intelligence, I defer the account to a future chapter.[65]

Shortly after the departure of the commissioners, an affair occurred of

a most unpleasant nature. A number of persons, with the priest Juan Diaz

at their head, ill-affected, from some cause or other, towards the

administration of Cortés, or not relishing the hazardous expedition

before them, laid a plan to seize one of the vessels, make the best of

their way to Cuba, and report to the governor the fate of the armament.

It was conducted with so much secrecy that the party had got their

provisions, water, and everything necessary for the voyage, on board,

without detection; when the conspiracy was betrayed, on the very night

they were to sail, by one of their own number, who repented the part he

had taken in it. The general caused the persons implicated to be

instantly apprehended. An examination was instituted. The guilt of the

parties was placed beyond a doubt. Sentence of death was passed on two

of the ringleaders; another, the pilot, was condemned to lose his feet,

and several others to be whipped. The priest, probably the most guilty

of the whole, claiming the usual benefit of clergy, was permitted to

escape. One of those condemned to the gallows was named Escudero, the

very alguacil who, the reader may remember, so stealthily apprehended

Cortés before the sanctuary in Cuba.[66] The general, on signing the

death-warrants, was heard to exclaim, “Would that I had never learned to

write!” It was not the first time, it was remarked, that the exclamation

had been uttered in similar circumstances.[67]

The arrangements being now finally settled at the Villa Rica, Cortés

sent forward Alvarado, with a large part of the army, to Cempoalla,

where he soon after joined them with the remainder. The late affair of

the conspiracy seems to have made a deep impression on his mind. It

showed him that there were timid spirits in the camp on whom he could

not rely, and who, he feared, might spread the seeds of disaffection

among their companions. Even the more resolute, on any occasion of

disgust or disappointment hereafter, might falter in purpose, and,

getting possession of the vessels, abandon the enterprise. This was

already too vast, and the odds were too formidable, to authorize

expectation of success with diminution of numbers. Experience showed

that this was always to be apprehended while means of escape were at

hand.[68] The best chance for success was to cut off these means. He

came to the daring resolution to destroy the fleet, without the

knowledge of his army.

When arrived at Cempoalla, he communicated his design to a few of his

devoted adherents, who entered warmly into his views. Through them he

readily persuaded the pilots, by means of those golden arguments which

weigh more than any other with ordinary minds, to make such a report of

the condition of the fleet as suited his purpose. The ships, they said,

were grievously racked by the heavy gales they had encountered, and,

what was worse, the worms had eaten into their sides and bottoms until

most of them were not seaworthy, and some, indeed, could scarcely now be

kept afloat.

Cortés received the communication with surprise; “for he could well

dissemble,” observes Las Casas, with his usual friendly comment, “when

it suited his interests.” “If it be so,” he exclaimed, “we must make the

best of it! Heaven’s will be done!”[69] He then ordered five of the

worst conditioned to be dismantled, their cordage, sails, iron, and

whatever was movable, to be brought on shore, and the ships to be sunk.

A survey was made of the others, and, on a similar report, four more

were condemned in the same manner. Only one small vessel remained!

When the intelligence reached the troops in Cempoalla, it caused the

deepest consternation. They saw themselves cut off by a single blow from

friends, family, country! The stoutest hearts quailed before the

prospect of being thus abandoned on a hostile shore, a handful of men

arrayed against a formidable empire. When the news arrived of the

destruction of the five vessels first condemned, they had acquiesced in

it as a necessary measure, knowing the mischievous activity of the

insects in these tropical seas. But, when this was followed by the loss

of the remaining four, suspicions of the truth flashed on their minds.

They felt they were betrayed. Murmurs, at first deep, swelled louder and

louder, menacing open mutiny. “Their general,” they said, “had led them

like cattle to be butchered in the shambles!”[70] The affair wore a

most alarming aspect. In no situation was Cortés ever exposed to greater

danger from his soldiers.[71]

His presence of mind did not desert him at this crisis. He called his

men together, and, employing the tones of persuasion rather than

authority, assured them that a survey of the ships showed they were not

fit for service. If he had ordered them to be destroyed, they should

consider, also, that his was the greatest sacrifice, for they were his

property,--all, indeed, he possessed in the world. The troops, on the

other hand, would derive one great advantage from it, by the addition of

a hundred able-bodied recruits, before required to man the vessels. But,

even if the fleet had been saved, it could have been of little service

in their present expedition; since they would not need it if they

succeeded, while they would be too far in the interior to profit by it

if they failed. He besought them to turn their thoughts in another

direction. To be thus calculating chances and means of escape was

unworthy of brave souls. They had set their hands to the work; to look

back, as they advanced, would be their ruin. They had only to resume

their former confidence in themselves and their general, and success was

certain. “As for me,” he concluded, “I have chosen my part. I will

remain here, while there is one to bear me company. If there be any so

craven as to shrink from sharing the dangers of our glorious enterprise,

let them go home, in God’s name. There is still one vessel left. Let

them take that and return to Cuba. They can tell there how they deserted

their commander and their comrades, and patiently wait till we return

loaded with the spoils of the Aztecs.”[72]

The politic orator had touched the right chord in the bosoms of the

soldiers. As he spoke, their resentment gradually died away. The faded

visions of future riches and glory, rekindled by his eloquence, again

floated before their imaginations. The first shock over, they felt

ashamed of their temporary distrust. The enthusiasm for their leader

revived, for they felt that under his banner only they could hope for

victory; and, as he concluded, they testified the revulsion of their

feelings by making the air ring with their shouts, “To Mexico! to

Mexico!”

The destruction of his fleet by Cortés is, perhaps, the most remarkable

passage in the life of this remarkable man. History, indeed, affords

examples of a similar expedient in emergencies somewhat similar; but

none where the chances of success were so precarious and defeat would be

so disastrous.[73] Had he failed, it might well seem

[Illustration: Goupil & Cº. Paris

CORTÉS SINKING HIS SHIPS]

[Illustration: Goupil & Cº. Paris]

an act of madness. Yet it was the fruit of deliberate calculation. He

had set fortune, fame, life itself, all upon the cast, and must abide

the issue. There was no alternative in his mind but to succeed or

perish. The measure he adopted greatly increased the chance of success.

But to carry it into execution, in the face of an incensed and desperate

soldiery, was an act of resolution that has few parallels in

history.[74]

Fray Bartolomé de las Casas, Bishop of Chiapa, whose “History of

the Indies” forms an important authority for the preceding pages,

was one of the most remarkable men of the sixteenth century. He was

born at Seville in 1474. His father accompanied Columbus, as a

common soldier, in his first voyage to the New World; and he

acquired wealth enough by his vocation to place his son at the

University of Salamanca. During his residence there, he was

attended by an Indian page, whom his father had brought with him

from Hispaniola. Thus the uncompromising advocate for freedom

began his career as the owner of a slave himself. But he did not

long remain so, for his slave was one of those subsequently

liberated by the generous commands of Isabella.

In 1498 he completed his studies in law and divinity, took his

degree of licentiate, and in 1502 accompanied Oviedo, in the most

brilliant armada which had been equipped for the Western World.

Eight years after, he was admitted to priest’s orders in St.

Domingo, an event somewhat memorable, since he was the first person

consecrated in that holy office in the colonies. On the occupation

of Cuba by the Spaniards, Las Casas passed over to that island,

where he obtained a curacy in a small settlement. He soon, however,

made himself known to the governor, Velasquez, by the fidelity with

which he discharged his duties, and especially by the influence

which his mild and benevolent teaching obtained for him over the

Indians. Through his intimacy with the governor, Las Casas had the

means of ameliorating the condition of the conquered race, and from

this time he may be said to have consecrated all his energies to

this one great object. At this period, the scheme of

_repartimientos_, introduced soon after the discoveries of

Columbus, was in full operation, and the aboriginal population of

the islands was rapidly melting away under a system of oppression

which has been seldom paralleled in the annals of mankind. Las

Casas, outraged at the daily exhibition of crime and misery,

returned to Spain to obtain some redress from government. Ferdinand

died soon after his arrival. Charles was absent, but the reins were

held by Cardinal Ximenes, who listened to the complaints of the

benevolent missionary, and, with his characteristic vigor,

instituted a commission of three Hieronymite friars, with full

authority, as already noticed in the text, to reform abuses. Las

Casas was honored, for his exertions, with the title of

“Protector-General of the Indians.”

The new commissioners behaved with great discretion. But their

office was one of consummate difficulty, as it required time to

introduce important changes in established institutions. The ardent

and impetuous temper of Las Casas, disdaining every consideration

of prudence, overleaped till these obstacles, and chafed under what

he considered the lukewarm and temporizing policy of the

commissioners. As he was at no pains to conceal his disgust, the

parties soon came to a misunderstanding with each other; and Las

Casas again returned to the mother-country, to stimulate the

government, if possible, to more effectual measures for the

protection of the natives.

He found the country under the administration of the Flemings, who

discovered from the first a wholesome abhorrence of the abuses

practised in the colonies, and who, in short, seemed inclined to

tolerate no peculation or extortion but their own. They acquiesced,

without much difficulty, in the recommendations of Las Casas, who

proposed to relieve the natives by sending out Castilian laborers

and by importing negro slaves into the islands. This last

proposition has brought heavy obloquy on the head of its author,

who has been freely accused of having thus introduced negro slavery

into the New World. Others, with equal groundlessness, have

attempted to vindicate his memory from the reproach of having

recommended the measure at all. Unfortunately for the latter

assertion, Las Casas, in his “History of the Indies,” confesses,

with deep regret and humiliation, his advice on this occasion,

founded on the most erroneous views, as he frankly states; since,

to use his own words, “the same law applies equally to the negro as

to the Indian.” But, so far from having introduced slavery by this

measure into the islands, the importation of blacks there dates

from the beginning of the century. It was recommended by some of

the wisest and most benevolent persons in the colony, as the means

of diminishing the amount of human suffering; since the African was

more fitted by his constitution to endure the climate and the

severe toil imposed on the slave, than the feeble and effeminate

islander. It was a suggestion of humanity, however mistaken, and,

considering the circumstances under which it occurred, and the age,

it may well be forgiven in Las Casas, especially taking into view

that, as he became more enlightened himself, he was so ready to

testify his regret at having unadvisedly countenanced the measure.

The experiment recommended by Las Casas was made, but, through the

apathy of Fonseca, president of the Indian Council, not

heartily,--and it failed. The good missionary now proposed another

and much bolder scheme. He requested that a large tract of country

in Tierra Firme, in the neighborhood of the famous pearl-fisheries,

might be ceded to him for the purpose of planting a colony there,

and of converting the natives to Christianity. He required that

none of the authorities of the islands, and no military force,

especially, should be allowed to interfere with his movements. He

pledged himself by peaceful means alone to accomplish all that had

been done by violence in other quarters. He asked only that a

certain number of laborers should attend him, invited by a bounty

from government, and that he might further be accompanied by fifty

Dominicans, who were to be distinguished like himself by a peculiar

dress, that should lead the natives to suppose them a different

race of men from the Spaniards. This proposition was denounced as

chimerical and fantastic by some, whose own opportunities of

observation entitled their judgment to respect. These men declared

the Indian, from his nature, incapable of civilization. The

question was one of such moment that Charles the Fifth ordered the

discussion to be conducted before him. The opponent of Las Casas

was first heard, when the good missionary, in answer, warmed by the

noble cause he was to maintain, and nothing daunted by the august

presence in which he stood, delivered himself with a fervent

eloquence that went directly to the hearts of his auditors. “The

Christian religion,” he concluded, “is equal in its operation, and

is accommodated to every nation on the globe. It robs no one of his

freedom, violates none of his inherent rights, on the ground that

he is a slave by nature, as pretended; and it well becomes your

Majesty to banish so monstrous an oppression from your kingdom in

the beginning of your reign, that the Almighty may make it long and

glorious.”

In the end Las Casas prevailed. He was furnished with the men and

means for establishing his colony, and in 1520 embarked for

America. But the result was a lamentable failure. The country

assigned to him lay in the neighborhood of a Spanish settlement,

which had already committed some acts of violence on the natives.

To quell the latter, now thrown into commotion, an armed force was

sent by the young “Admiral” from Hispaniola. The very people, among

whom Las Casas was to appear as the messenger of peace, were thus

involved in deadly strife with his countrymen. The enemy had been

before him in his own harvest. While waiting for the close of these

turbulent scenes, the laborers, whom he had taken out with him,

dispersed, in despair of effecting their object. And after an

attempt to pursue, with his faithful Dominican brethren, the work

of colonization further, other untoward circumstances compelled

them to abandon the project altogether. Its unfortunate author,

overwhelmed with chagrin, took refuge in the Dominican monastery in

the island of Hispaniola. The failure of the enterprise should, no

doubt, be partly ascribed to circumstances beyond the control of

its projector. Yet it is impossible not to recognize in the whole

scheme, and in the conduct of it, the hand of one much more

familiar with books than men, who, in the seclusion of the

cloister, had meditated and matured his benevolent plans, without

fully estimating the obstacles that lay in their way, and who

counted too confidently on meeting the same generous enthusiasm in

others which glowed in his own bosom.

He found, in his disgrace, the greatest consolation and sympathy

from the brethren of St. Dominic, who stood forth as the avowed

champions of the Indians on all occasions, and showed themselves as

devoted to the cause of freedom in the New World as they had been

hostile to it in the Old. Las Casas soon became a member of their

order, and, in his monastic retirement, applied himself for many

years to the performance of his spiritual duties, and the

composition of various works, all directed, more or less, to

vindicate the rights of the Indians. Here, too, he commenced his

great work the “Historia general de las Indias,” which he pursued,

at intervals of leisure, from 1527 till a few years before his

death. His time, however, was not wholly absorbed by these labors;

and he found means to engage in several laborious missions. He

preached the gospel among the natives of Nicaragua and Guatemala,

and succeeded in converting and reducing to obedience some wild

tribes in the latter province, who had defied the arms of his

countrymen. In all these pious labors he was sustained by his

Dominican brethren. At length, in 1539, he crossed the waters

again, to seek further assistance and recruits among the members of

his order.

A great change had taken place in the board that now presided over

the colonial department. The cold and narrow-minded Fonseca, who,

during his long administration, had, it may be truly said, shown

himself the enemy of every great name and good measure connected

with the Indians, had died. His place, as president of the Indian

Council, was filled by Loaysa, Charles’s confessor. This

functionary, general of the Dominicans, gave ready audience to Las

Casas, and showed a good will to his proposed plans of reform.

Charles, too, now grown older, seemed to feel more deeply the

responsibility of his station, and the necessity of redressing the

wrongs, too long tolerated, of his American subjects. The state of

the colonies became a common topic of discussion, not only in the

council, but in the court; and the representations of Las Casas

made an impression that manifested itself in the change of

sentiment more clearly every day. He promoted this by the

publication of some of his writings at this time, and especially of

his “Brevísima Relacion,” or Short Account of the Destruction of

the Indies, in which he sets before the reader the manifold

atrocities committed by his countrymen in different parts of the

New World in the prosecution of their conquests. It is a tale of

woe. Every line of the work may be said to be written in blood.

However good the motives of its author, we may regret that the book

was ever written. He would have been certainly right not to spare

his countrymen; to exhibit their misdeeds in their true colors, and

by this appalling picture--for such it would have been--to have

recalled the nation, and those who governed it, to a proper sense

of the iniquitous career it was pursuing on the other side of the

water. But, to produce a more striking effect, he has lent a

willing ear to every tale of violence and rapine, and magnified the

amount to a degree which borders on the ridiculous. The wild

extravagance of his numerical estimates is of itself sufficient to

shake confidence in the accuracy of his statements generally. Yet

the naked truth was too startling in itself to demand the aid of

exaggeration. The book found great favor with foreigners; was

rapidly translated into various languages, and ornamented with

characteristic designs, which seemed to put into action all the

recorded atrocities of the text. It excited somewhat different

feelings in his own countrymen, particularly the people of the

colonies, who considered themselves the subjects of a gross,

however undesigned, misrepresentation; and in his future

intercourse with them it contributed, no doubt, to diminish his

influence and consequent usefulness, by the spirit of alienation,

and even resentment, which it engendered.

Las Casas’ honest intentions, his enlightened views and long

experience, gained him deserved credit at home. This was visible in

the important regulations made at this time for the better

government of the colonies, and particularly in respect to the

aborigines. A code of laws, _Las Nuevas Leyes_, was passed, having

for their avowed object the enfranchisement of this unfortunate

race; and in the wisdom and humanity of its provisions it is easy

to recognize the hand of the Protector of the Indians. The history

of Spanish colonial legislation is the history of the impotent

struggles of the government in behalf of the natives, against the

avarice and cruelty of its subjects. It proves that an empire

powerful at home--and Spain then was so--may be so widely extended

that its authority shall scarcely be felt in its extremities.

The government testified their sense of the signal services of Las

Casas by promoting him to the bishopric of Cuzco, one of the

richest sees in the colonies. But the disinterested soul of the

missionary did not covet riches or preferment. He rejected the

proffered dignity without hesitation. Yet he could not refuse the

bishopric of Chiapa, a country which, from the poverty and

ignorance of its inhabitants, offered a good field for his

spiritual labors. In 1544, though at the advanced age of seventy,

he took upon himself these new duties, and embarked, for the fifth

and last time, for the shores of America. His fame had preceded

him. The colonists looked on his coming with apprehension,

regarding him as the real author of the new code, which struck at

their ancient immunities, and which he would be likely to enforce

to the letter. Everywhere he was received with coldness. In some

places his person was menaced with violence. But the venerable

presence of the prelate, his earnest expostulations, which flowed

so obviously from conviction, and his generous self-devotion, so

regardless of personal considerations, preserved him from this

outrage. Yet he showed no disposition to conciliate his opponents

by what he deemed an unworthy concession; and he even stretched the

arm of authority so far as to refuse the sacraments to any who

still held an Indian in bondage. This high-handed measure not only

outraged the planters, but incurred the disapprobation of his own

brethren in the Church. Three years were spent in disagreeable

altercation without coming to any decision. The Spaniards, to

borrow their accustomed phraseology on these occasions, “obeying

the law, but not fulfilling it,” applied to the court for further

instructions; and the bishop, no longer supported by his own

brethren, thwarted by the colonial magistrates, and outraged by the

people, relinquished a post where his presence could be no longer

useful, and returned to spend the remainder of his days in

tranquillity at home.

Yet, though withdrawn to his Dominican convent, he did not pass his

hours in slothful seclusion. He again appeared as the champion of

Indian freedom in the famous controversy with Sepulveda, one of the

most acute scholars of the time, and far surpassing Las Casas in

elegance and correctness of composition. But the Bishop of Chiapa

was his superior in argument, at least in this discussion, where he

had right and reason on his side. In his “Thirty Propositions,” as

they are called, in which he sums up the several points of his

case, he maintains that the circumstance of infidelity in religion

cannot deprive a nation of its political rights; that the Holy

See, in its grant of the New World to the Catholic sovereigns,

designed only to confer the right of converting its inhabitants to

Christianity, and of thus winning a peaceful authority over them,

and that no authority could be valid which rested on other

foundations. This was striking at the root of the colonial empire

as assumed by Castile. But the disinterested views of Las Casas,

the respect entertained for his principles, and the general

conviction, it may be, of the force of his arguments, prevented the

court from taking umbrage at their import, or from pressing them to

their legitimate conclusion. While the writings of his adversary

were interdicted from publication, he had the satisfaction to see

his own printed and circulated in every quarter.

From this period his time was distributed among his religious

duties, his studies, and the composition of his works, especially

his History. His constitution, naturally excellent, had been

strengthened by a life of temperance and toil; and he retained his

faculties unimpaired to the last. He died after a short illness,

July, 1566, at the great age of ninety-two, in his monastery of

Atocha, at Madrid.

The character of Las Casas may be inferred from his career. He was

one of those to whose gifted minds are revealed those glorious

moral truths which, like the lights of heaven, are fixed and the

same forever, but which, though now familiar, were hidden from all

but a few penetrating intellects by the general darkness of the

time in which he lived. He was a reformer, and had the virtues and

errors of a reformer. He was inspired by one great and glorious

idea. This was the key to all his thoughts, to all that he said and

wrote, to every act of his long life. It was this which urged him

to lift the voice of rebuke in the presence of princes, to brave

the menaces of an infuriated populace, to cross seas, to traverse

mountains and deserts, to incur the alienation of friends, the

hostility of enemies, to endure obloquy, insult, and persecution.

It was this, too, which made him reckless of obstacles, led him to

count too confidently on the co-operation of others, animated his

discussion, sharpened his invective, too often steeped his pen in

the gall of personal vituperation, led him into gross exaggeration

and over-coloring in his statements and a blind credulity of evil

that rendered him unsafe as a counsellor and unsuccessful in the

practical concerns of life. His views were pure and elevated. But

his manner of enforcing them was not always so commendable. This

may be gathered not only from the testimony of the colonists

generally, who, as parties interested, may be supposed to have been

prejudiced, but from that of the members of his own profession,

persons high in office, and of integrity beyond suspicion, not to

add that of missionaries engaged in the same good work with

himself. These, in their letters and reported conversations,

charged the Bishop of Chiapa with an arrogant, uncharitable temper,

which deluded his judgment, and vented itself in unwarrantable

crimination against such as resisted his projects or differed from

him in opinion. Las Casas, in short, was a man. But, if he had the

errors of humanity, he had virtues that rarely belong to it. The

best commentary on his character is the estimation which he

obtained in the court of his sovereign. A liberal pension was

settled on him after his last return from America, which he chiefly

expended on charitable objects. No measure of importance relating

to the Indians was taken without his advice. He lived to see the

fruits of his efforts in the positive amelioration of their

condition, and in the popular admission of those great truths which

it had been the object of his life to unfold. And who shall say how

much of the successful efforts and arguments since made in behalf

of persecuted humanity may be traced to the example and the

writings of this illustrious philanthropist?

His compositions were numerous, most of them of no great length.

Some were printed in his time; others have since appeared,

especially in the French translation of Llorente. His great work,

which occupied him at intervals for more than thirty years, the

_Historia general de las Indias_, still remains in manuscript. It

is in three volumes, divided into as many parts, and embraces the

colonial history from the discovery of the country by Columbus to

the year 1520. The style of the work, like that of all his

writings, is awkward, disjointed, and excessively diffuse,

abounding in repetitions, irrelevant digressions, and pedantic

citations. But it is sprinkled over with passages of a different

kind; and, when he is roused by the desire to exhibit some gross

wrong to the natives, his simple language kindles into eloquence,

and he expounds those great and immutable principles of natural

justice which in his own day were so little understood. His defect

as a historian is that he wrote history, like everything else,

under the influence of one dominant idea. He is always pleading the

cause of the persecuted native. This gives a coloring to events

which passed under his own eyes, and filled him with a too easy

confidence in those which he gathered from the reports of others.

Much of the preceding portion of our narrative which relates to

affairs in Cuba must have come under his personal observation. But

he seems incapable of shaking off his early deference to Velasquez,

who, as we have noticed, treated him, while a poor curate in the

island, with peculiar confidence. For Cortés, on the other hand, he

appears to have felt a profound contempt. He witnessed the

commencement of his career, when he was standing, cap in hand, as

it were, at the proud governor’s door, thankful even for a smile of

recognition. Las Casas remembered all this, and, when he saw the

Conqueror of Mexico rise into a glory and renown that threw his

former patron into the shade,--and most unfairly, as Las Casas

deemed, at the expense of that patron,--the good bishop could not

withhold his indignation, nor speak of him otherwise than with a

sneer, as a mere upstart adventurer.

It is the existence of defects like these, and the fear of the

misconception likely to be produced by them, that have so long

prevented the publication of his history. At his death, he left it

to the convent of San Gregorio, at Valladolid, with directions that

it should not be printed for forty years, nor be seen during that

time by any layman or member of the fraternity. Herrera, however,

was permitted to consult it, and he liberally transferred its

contents to his own volumes, which appeared in 1601. The royal

Academy of History revised the first volume of Las Casas some years

since, with a view to the publication of the whole work. But the

indiscreet and imaginative style of the composition, according to

Navarrete, and the consideration that its most important facts were

already known through other channels, induced that body to abandon

the design. With deference to their judgment, this seems to me a

mistake. Las Casas, with every deduction, is one of the great

writers of the nation; great from the important truths which he

discerned when none else could see them, and from the courage with

which he proclaimed them to the world. They are scattered over his

History as well as his other writings. They are not, however, the

passages transcribed by Herrera. In the statement of fact, too,

however partial and prejudiced, no one will impeach his integrity;

and, as an enlightened contemporary, his evidence is of undeniable

value. It is due to the memory of Las Casas that, if his work be

given to the public at all, it should not be through the garbled

extracts of one who was no fair interpreter of his opinions. Las

Casas does not speak for himself in the courtly pages of Herrera.

Yet the History should not be published without a suitable

commentary to enlighten the student and guard him against any undue

prejudices in the writer. We may hope that the entire manuscript

will one day be given to the world under the auspices of that

distinguished body which has already done so much in this way for

the illustration of the national annals.{*}

{*}: [The Historia de las Indias was published in five volumes, in

1875-76, by the Royal Academy of History in Madrid. Prescott’s

manuscript copy of the work was probably burned in Boston in

1872.--M.]

The life of Las Casas has been several times written. The two

memoirs most worthy of notice are that by Llorente, late Secretary

of the Inquisition, prefixed to his French translation of the

bishop’s controversial writings, and that by Quintana, in the third

volume of his “Españoles célebres,” where it presents a truly noble

specimen of biographical composition, enriched by a literary

criticism as acute as it is candid. I have gone to the greater

length in this notice, from the interesting character of the man,

and the little that is known of him to the English reader. I have

also transferred a passage from his work in the original to the

Appendix, that the Spanish scholar may form an idea of his style of

composition. He ceases to be an authority for us henceforth, as his

account of the expedition of Cortés terminates with the destruction

of the navy.

BOOK III

MARCH TO MEXICO

CHAPTER I

PROCEEDINGS AT CEMPOALLA--THE SPANIARDS CLIMB THE

TABLE-LAND--PICTURESQUE SCENERY--TRANSACTIONS WITH THE

NATIVES--EMBASSY TO TLASCALA

1519

While at Cempoalla, Cortés received a message from Escalante, his

commander at Villa Rica, informing him there were four strange ships

hovering off the coast, and that they took no notice of his repeated

signals. This intelligence greatly alarmed the general, who feared they

might be a squadron sent by the governor of Cuba to interfere with his

movements. In much haste, he set out at the head of a few horsemen, and,

ordering a party of light infantry to follow, posted back to Villa Rica.

The rest of the army he left in charge of Alvarado and of Gonzalo de

Sandoval, a young officer who had begun to give evidence of the uncommon

qualities which have secured to him so distinguished a rank among the

conquerors of Mexico.

Escalante would have persuaded the general, on his reaching the town, to

take some rest, and allow him to go in search of the strangers. But

Cortés replied with the homely proverb, “A wounded hare takes no

nap,”[75] and, without stopping to refresh himself or his men, pushed on

three or four leagues to the north, where he understood the ships were

at anchor. On the way, he fell in with three Spaniards, just landed from

them. To his eager inquiries whence they came, they replied that they

belonged to a squadron fitted out by Francisco de Garay, governor of

Jamaica. This person, the year previous, had visited the Florida coast,

and obtained from Spain--where he had some interest at court--authority

over the countries he might discover in that vicinity. The three men,

consisting of a notary and two witnesses, had been sent on shore to warn

their countrymen under Cortés to desist from what was considered an

encroachment on the territories of Garay. Probably neither the governor

of Jamaica nor his officers had any precise notion of the geography and

limits of these territories.

Cortés saw at once there was nothing to apprehend from this quarter. He

would have been glad, however, if he could by any means have induced the

crews of the ships to join his expedition. He found no difficulty in

persuading the notary and his companions. But when he came in sight of

the vessels, the people on board, distrusting the good terms on which

their comrades appeared to be with the Spaniards, refused to send their

boat ashore. In this dilemma, Cortés had recourse to a stratagem.

He ordered three of his own men to exchange dresses with the new-comers.

He then drew off his little band in sight of the vessels, affecting to

return to the city. In the night, however, he came back to the same

place, and lay in ambush, directing the disguised Spaniards, when the

morning broke, and they could be discerned, to make signals to those on

board. The artifice succeeded. A boat put off, filled with armed men,

and three or four leaped on shore. But they soon detected the deceit,

and Cortés, springing from his ambush, made them prisoners. Their

comrades in the boat, alarmed, pushed off, at once, for the vessels,

which soon got under way, leaving those on shore to their fate. Thus

ended the affair. Cortés returned to Cempoalla, with the addition of

half a dozen able-bodied recruits, and, what was of more importance,

relieved in his own mind from the apprehension of interference with his

operations.[76]

He now made arrangements for his speedy departure from the Totonac

capital. The forces reserved for the expedition amounted to about four

hundred foot and fifteen horse, with seven pieces of artillery. He

obtained, also, from the cacique of Cempoalla, thirteen hundred

warriors, and a thousand _tamanes_, or porters, to drag the guns and

transport the baggage. He took forty more of their principal men as

hostages, as well as to guide him on the way and serve him by their

counsels among the strange tribes he was to visit. They were, in fact,

of essential service to him throughout the march.[77]

The remainder of his Spanish force he left in garrison at Villa Rica de

Vera Cruz, the command of which he had intrusted to the alguacil, Juan

de Escalante, an officer devoted to his interests. The selection was

judicious. It was important to place there a man who would resist any

hostile interference from his European rivals, on the one hand, and

maintain the present friendly relations with the natives, on the other.

Cortés recommended the Totonac chiefs to apply to this officer in case

of any difficulty, assuring them that so long as they remained faithful

to their new sovereign and religion they should find a sure protection

in the Spaniards.

Before marching, the general spoke a few words of encouragement to his

own men. He told them they were now to embark in earnest on an

enterprise which had been the great object of their desires, and that

the blessed Saviour would carry them victorious through every battle

with their enemies. “Indeed,” he added, “this assurance must be our

stay, for every other refuge is now cut off but that afforded by the

providence of God and your own stout hearts.”[78] He ended by comparing

their achievements to those of the ancient Romans, “in phrases of

honeyed eloquence far beyond anything I can repeat,” says the brave and

simple-hearted chronicler who heard them. Cortés was, indeed, master of

that eloquence which went to the soldiers’ hearts. For their sympathies

were his, and he shared in that romantic spirit of adventure which

belonged to them. “We are ready to obey you,” they cried as with one

voice. “Our fortunes, for better or worse, are cast with yours.”[79]

Taking leave, therefore, of their hospitable Indian friends, the little

army, buoyant with high hopes and lofty plans of conquest, set forward

on their march to Mexico.

It was the sixteenth of August, 1519. During the first day, their road

lay through the _tierra caliente_, the beautiful land where they had

been so long lingering; the land of the vanilla, cochineal, cacao (not

till later days of the orange and the sugar-cane), products which,

indigenous to Mexico, have now become the luxuries of Europe; the land

where the fruits and the flowers chase one another in unbroken circle

through the year; where the gales are loaded with perfumes till the

sense aches at their sweetness, and the groves are filled with

many-colored birds, and insects whose enamelled wings glisten like

diamonds in the bright sun of the tropics. Such are the magical

splendors of this paradise of the senses. Yet Nature, who generally

works in a spirit of compensation, has provided one here; since the same

burning sun which quickens into life these glories of the vegetable and

animal kingdoms calls forth the pestilent _malaria_, with its train of

bilious disorders, unknown to the cold skies of the North. The season in

which the Spaniards were there, the rainy months of summer, was

precisely that in which the _vómito_ rages with greatest fury; when the

European stranger hardly ventures to set his foot on shore, still less

to linger there a day. We find no mention made of it in the records of

the Conquerors, nor any notice, indeed, of an uncommon mortality. The

fact doubtless corroborates the theory of those who postpone the

appearance of the yellow fever till long after the occupation of the

country by the whites. It proves, at least, that, if existing before, it

must have been in a very much mitigated form.

After some leagues of travel over roads made nearly impassable by the

summer rains, the troops began the gradual ascent--more gradual on the

eastern than the western declivities of the Cordilleras--which leads up

to the table-land of Mexico. At the close of the second day they reached

Xalapa, a place still retaining the same Aztec name that it has

communicated to the drug raised in its environs, the medicinal virtues

of which are now known throughout the world.[80] This town stands

midway up the long ascent, at an elevation where the vapors from the

ocean, touching in their westerly progress, maintain a rich verdure

throughout the year. Though somewhat infected by these marine fogs, the

air is usually bland and salubrious. The wealthy resident of the lower

regions retires here for safety in the heats of summer, and the

traveller hails its groves of oak with delight, as announcing that he is

above the deadly influence of the _vómito_.[81] From this delicious

spot, the Spaniards enjoyed one of the grandest prospects in nature.

Before them was the steep ascent--much steeper after this point--which

they were to climb. On the right rose the Sierra Madre, girt with its

dark belt of pines, and its long lines of shadowy hills stretching away

in the distance. To the south, in brilliant contrast, stood the mighty

Orizaba, with his white robe of snow descending far down his sides,

towering in solitary grandeur, the giant spectre of the Andes. Behind

them, they beheld, unrolled at their feet, the magnificent _tierra

caliente_, with its gay confusion of meadows, streams, and flowering

forests, sprinkled over with shining Indian villages, while a faint line

of light on the edge of the horizon told them that there was the ocean,

beyond which were the kindred and country they were many of them never

more to see.

Still winding their way upward, amidst scenery as different as was the

temperature from that of the regions below, the army passed through

settlements containing some hundreds of inhabitants each, and on the

fourth day reached a “strong town,” as Cortés terms it, standing on a

rocky eminence, supposed to be that now known by the Mexican name of

Naulinco. Here they were hospitably entertained by the inhabitants, who

were friends of the Totonacs. Cortés endeavored, through Father Olmedo,

to impart to them some knowledge of Christian truths, which were kindly

received, and the Spaniards were allowed to erect a cross in the place,

for the future adoration of the natives. Indeed, the route of the army

might be tracked by these emblems of man’s salvation, raised wherever a

willing population of Indians invited it, suggesting a very different

idea from what the same memorials intimate to the traveller in these

mountain solitudes in our day.[82]

The troops now entered a rugged defile, the Bishop’s Pass,[83] as it is

called, capable of easy defence against an army. Very soon they

experienced a most unwelcome change of climate. Cold winds from the

mountains, mingled with rain, and, as they rose still higher, with

driving sleet and hail, drenched their garments, and seemed to penetrate

to their very bones. The Spaniards, indeed, partially covered by their

armor and thick jackets of quilted cotton, were better able to resist

the weather, though their long residence in the sultry regions of the

valley made them still keenly sensible to the annoyance. But the poor

Indians, natives of the _tierra caliente_, with little protection in the

way of covering, sank under the rude assault of the elements, and

several of them perished on the road.

The aspect of the country was as wild and dreary as the climate. Their

route wound along the spur of the huge Cofre de Perote, which borrows

its name, both in Mexican and Castilian, from the coffer-like rock on

its summit.[84] It is one of the great volcanoes of New Spain. It

exhibits now, indeed, no vestige of a crater on its top, but abundant

traces of volcanic action at its base, where acres of lava, blackened

scoriæ, and cinders proclaim the convulsions of nature, while numerous

shrubs and mouldering trunks of enormous trees, among the crevices,

attest the antiquity of these events. Working their toilsome way across

this scene of desolation, the path often led them along the borders of

precipices, down whose sheer depths of two or three thousand feet the

shrinking eye might behold another climate, and see all the glowing

vegetation of the tropics choking up the bottom of the ravines.

After three days of this fatiguing travel, the wayworn army emerged

through another defile, the _Sierra del Agua_.[85] They soon came upon

an open reach of country, with a genial climate, such as belongs to the

temperate latitudes of southern Europe. They had reached the level of

more than seven thousand feet above the ocean, where the great sheet of

table-land spreads out for hundreds of miles along the crests of the

Cordilleras. The country showed signs of careful cultivation, but the

products were, for the most part, not familiar to the eyes of the

Spaniards. Fields and hedges of the various tribes of the cactus, the

towering organum, and plantations of aloes with rich yellow clusters of

flowers on their tall stems, affording drink and clothing to the Aztec,

were everywhere seen. The plants of the torrid and temperate zones had

disappeared, one after another, with the ascent into these elevated

regions. The glossy and dark-leaved banana, the chief, as it is the

cheapest, aliment of the countries below, had long since faded from the

landscape. The hardy maize, however, still shone with its golden harvest

in all the pride of cultivation, the great staple of the higher equally

with the lower terraces of the plateau.

Suddenly the troops came upon what seemed the environs of a populous

city, which, as they entered it, appeared to surpass even that of

Cempoalla in the size and solidity of its structures.[86] These were of

stone and lime, many of them spacious and tolerably high. There were

thirteen _teocallis_ in the place; and in the suburbs they had seen a

receptacle, in which, according to Bernal Diaz, were stored a hundred

thousand skulls of human victims, all piled and ranged in order! He

reports the number as one he had ascertained by counting them

himself.[87] Whatever faith we may attach to the precise accuracy of his

figures, the result is almost equally startling. The Spaniards were

destined to become familiar with this appalling spectacle as they

approached nearer to the Aztec capital.

The lord of the town ruled over twenty thousand vassals. He was

tributary to Montezuma, and a strong Mexican garrison was quartered in

the place. He had probably been advised of the approach of the

Spaniards, and doubted how far it would be welcome to his sovereign. At

all events, he gave them a cold reception, the more unpalatable after

the extraordinary sufferings of the last few days. To the inquiry of

Cortés, whether he were subject to Montezuma, he answered, with real or

affected surprise, “Who is there that is not a vassal of Montezuma?”[88]

The general told him, with some emphasis, that _he_ was not. He then

explained whence and why he came, assuring him that he served a monarch

who had princes for his vassals as powerful as the Aztec monarch

himself.

The cacique, in turn, fell nothing short of the Spaniard in the pompous

display of the grandeur and resources of the Indian emperor. He told his

guest that Montezuma could muster thirty great vassals, each master of a

hundred thousand men![89] His revenues were immense, as every subject,

however poor, paid something. They were all expended on his magnificent

state and in support of his armies. These were continually in the

field, while garrisons were maintained in most of the large cities of

the empire. More than twenty thousand victims, the fruit of his wars,

were annually sacrificed on the altars of his gods! His capital, the

cacique said, stood in a lake, in the centre of a spacious valley. The

lake was commanded by the emperor’s vessels, and the approach to the

city was by means of causeways, several miles long, connected in parts

by wooden bridges, which, when raised, cut off all communication with

the country. Some other things he added, in answer to queries of his

guest, in which, as the reader may imagine, the crafty or credulous

cacique varnished over the truth with a lively coloring of romance.

Whether romance, or reality, the Spaniards could not determine. The

particulars they gleaned were not of a kind to tranquillize their minds,

and might well have made bolder hearts than theirs pause, ere they

advanced. But far from it. “The words which we heard,” says the stout

old cavalier so often quoted, “however they may have filled us with

wonder, made us--such is the temper of the Spaniard--only the more

earnest to prove the adventure, desperate as it might appear.”[90]

In a further conversation Cortés inquired of the chief whether his

country abounded in gold, and intimated a desire to take home some, as

specimens, to his sovereign. But the Indian lord declined to give him

any, saying it might displease Montezuma. “Should he command it,” he

added, “my gold, my person, and all I possess, shall be at your

disposal.” The general did not press the matter further.

The curiosity of the natives was naturally excited by the strange

dresses, weapons, horses, and dogs of the Spaniards. Marina, in

satisfying their inquiries, took occasion to magnify the prowess of her

adopted countrymen, expatiating on their exploits and victories, and

stating the extraordinary marks of respect they had received from

Montezuma. This intelligence seems to have had its effect; for soon

after the cacique gave the general some curious trinkets of gold, of no

great value, indeed, but as a testimony of his good will. He sent him,

also, some female slaves to prepare bread for the troops, and supplied

the means of refreshment and repose, more important to them, in the

present juncture, than all the gold of Mexico.[91]

The Spanish general, as usual, did not neglect the occasion to inculcate

the great truths of revelation on his host, and to display the atrocity

of the Indian superstitions. The cacique listened with civil but cold

indifference. Cortés, finding him unmoved, turned briskly round to his

soldiers, exclaiming that now was the time to plant the Cross! They

eagerly seconded his pious purpose, and the same scenes might have been

enacted as at Cempoalla, with perhaps very different results, had not

Father Olmedo, with better judgment, interposed. He represented that to

introduce the Cross among the natives, in their present state of

ignorance and incredulity, would be to expose the sacred symbol to

desecration so soon as the backs of the Spaniards were turned. The only

way was to wait patiently the season when more leisure should be

afforded to instil into their minds a knowledge of the truth. The sober

reasoning of the good father prevailed over the passions of the martial

enthusiasts.

It was fortunate for Cortés that Olmedo was not one of those frantic

friars who would have fanned his fiery temper on such occasions into a

blaze. It might have had a most disastrous influence on his fortunes;

for he held all temporal consequences light in comparison with the great

work of conversion, to effect which the unscrupulous mind of the

soldier, trained to the stern discipline of the camp, would have

employed force whenever fair means were ineffectual.[92] But Olmedo

belonged to that class of benevolent missionaries--of whom the Roman

Catholic church, to its credit, has furnished many examples--who rely on

spiritual weapons for the great work, inculcating those doctrines of

love and mercy which can best touch the sensibilities and win the

affections of their rude audience. These, indeed, are the true weapons

of the Church, the weapons employed in the primitive ages, by which it

has spread its peaceful banners over the farthest regions of the globe.

Such were not the means used by the conquerors of America, who, rather

adopting the policy of the victorious Moslems in their early career,

carried with them the sword in one hand and the Bible in the other. They

imposed obedience in matters of faith, no less than of government, on

the vanquished, little heeding whether the conversion were genuine, so

that it conformed to the outward observances of the Church. Yet the

seeds thus recklessly scattered must have perished but for the

missionaries of their own nation, who, in later times, worked over the

same ground, living among the Indians as brethren, and, by long and

patient culture, enabling the germs of truth to take root and fructify

in their hearts.

The Spanish commander remained in the city four or five days, to recruit

his fatigued and famished forces; and the modern Indians still point

out, or did, at the close of the last century, a venerable

cypress, under the branches of which was tied the horse of the

_Conquistador_,--the Conqueror, as Cortés was styled, _par

excellence_.[93] Their route now opened on a broad and verdant valley,

watered by a noble stream,--a circumstance of not too frequent

occurrence on the parched table-land of New Spain. The soil was well

protected by woods,--a thing still rarer at the present day; since the

invaders, soon after the Conquest, swept away the magnificent growth of

timber, rivalling that of our Southern and Western States in variety and

beauty, which covered the plateau under the Aztecs.[94]{*}

{*} [The amount of timber in Mexico at the time of the Conquest has been

greatly overestimated. Humboldt complains of the Spaniards for cutting

down trees. Yet Bernal Diaz says (cap. ccix.): “y han plantado sus

tierras y heredades de todos los árboles y frutas que hemos traido de

España, y venden el fruto que procede dello: y han puesto tantos

árboles, que porque los duraznos no son buenos para la salud y los

platanales les hacen mucha sombra, han cortado y cortan muchos, y lo

ponen de membrilleros y manzanas, y perales, que los tienen en mas

estima.”--M.]

All along the river, on both sides of it, an unbroken line of Indian

dwellings, “so near as almost to touch one another,” extended for three

or four leagues; arguing a population much denser than at present.[95]

On a rough and rising ground stood a town that might contain five or six

thousand inhabitants, commanded by a fortress, which, with its walls and

trenches, seemed to the Spaniards quite “on a level with similar works

in Europe.” Here the troops again halted, and met with friendly

treatment.[96]

Cortés now determined his future line of march. At the last place he had

been counselled by the natives to take the route of the ancient city of

Cholula, the inhabitants of which, subjects of Montezuma, were a mild

race, devoted to mechanical and other peaceful arts, and would be likely

to entertain him kindly. Their Cempoallan allies, however, advised the

Spaniards not to trust the Cholulans, “a false and perfidious people,”

but to take the road to Tlascala, that valiant little republic which had

so long maintained its independence against the arms of Mexico. The

people were frank as they were fearless, and fair in their dealings.

They had always been on terms of amity with the Totonacs, which afforded

a strong guarantee for their amicable disposition on the present

occasion.

The arguments of his Indian allies prevailed with the Spanish commander,

who resolved to propitiate the good will of the Tlascalans by an

embassy. He selected four of the principal Cempoallans for this, and

sent by them a martial gift,--a cap of crimson cloth, together with a

sword and a cross-bow, weapons which, it was observed, excited general

admiration among the natives. He added a letter, in which he asked

permission to pass through their country. He expressed his admiration

of the valor of the Tlascalans, and of their long resistance to the

Aztecs, whose proud empire he designed to humble.[97] It was not to be

expected that this epistle, indited in good Castilian, would be very

intelligible to the Tlascalans. But Cortés communicated its import to

the ambassadors. Its mysterious characters might impress the natives

with an idea of superior intelligence, and the letter serve instead of

those hieroglyphical missives which formed the usual credentials of an

Indian ambassador.[98]

The Spaniards remained three days in this hospitable place, after the

departure of the envoys, when they resumed their progress. Although in a

friendly country, they marched always as if in a land of enemies, the

horse and light troops in the van, with the heavy-armed and baggage in

the rear, all in battle-array. They were never without their armor,

waking or sleeping, lying down with their weapons by their sides. This

unintermitting and restless vigilance was, perhaps, more oppressive to

the spirits than even bodily fatigue. But they were confident in their

superiority in a fair field, and felt that the most serious danger they

had to fear from Indian warfare was surprise. “We are few against many,

brave companions,” Cortés would say to them; “be prepared, then, not as

if you were going to battle, but as if actually in the midst of

it!”[99]

The road taken by the Spaniards was the same which at present leads to

Tlascala; not that, however, usually followed in passing from Vera Cruz

to the capital, which makes a circuit considerably to the south, towards

Puebla, in the neighborhood of the ancient Cholula. They more than once

forded the stream that rolls through this beautiful plain, lingering

several days on the way, in hopes of receiving an answer from the Indian

republic. The unexpected delay of the messengers could not be explained,

and occasioned some uneasiness.

As they advanced into a country of rougher and bolder features, their

progress was suddenly arrested by a remarkable fortification. It was a

stone wall nine feet in height, and twenty in thickness, with a parapet,

a foot and a half broad, raised on the summit for the protection of

those who defended it. It had only one opening, in the centre, made by

two semicircular lines of wall overlapping each other for the space of

forty paces, and affording a passage-way between, ten paces wide, so

contrived, therefore, as to be perfectly commanded by the inner wall.

This fortification, which extended more than two leagues, rested at

either end on the bold natural buttresses formed by the sierra. The work

was built of immense blocks of stones nicely laid together without

cement;[100] and the remains still existing, among which are rocks of

the whole breadth of the rampart, fully attest its solidity and

size.[101]

This singular structure marked the limits of Tlascala, and was intended,

as the natives told the Spaniards, as a barrier against the Mexican

invasions. The army paused, filled with amazement at the contemplation

of this Cyclopean monument, which naturally suggested reflections on the

strength and resources of the people who had raised it. It caused them,

too, some painful solicitude as to the probable result of their mission

to Tlascala, and their own consequent reception there. But they were too

sanguine to allow such uncomfortable surmises long to dwell in their

minds. Cortés put himself at the head of his cavalry, and, calling out,

“Forward, soldiers, the Holy Cross is our banner, and under that we

shall conquer,” led his little army through the undefended passage, and

in a few moments they trod the soil of the free republic of

Tlascala.[102]

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