REPUBLIC OF TLASCALA--ITS INSTITUTIONS--EARLY HISTORY--DISCUSSIONS
IN THE SENATE--DESPERATE BATTLES
1519
Before advancing further with the Spaniards into the territory of
Tlascala, it will be well to notice some traits in the character and
institutions of the nation, in many respects the most remarkable in
Anahuac. The Tlascalans belonged to the same great family with the
Aztecs.[103]{*} They came on the grand plateau about the same time with
the kindred races, at the close of the twelfth century, and planted
themselves on the western borders of the lake of Tezcuco. Here they
remained many years, engaged in the usual pursuits of a bold and
partially civilized people.
{*} [The Tlascalans, “belonging to the same great family with the
Aztecs,” of course had governmental institutions similar to those of the
Aztecs. The clan dwelt in a pueblo and was divided into four phratries.
For the system of government, see note, pp. 33-36, vol. i.--M.] From
some cause or other, perhaps their turbulent temper, they incurred the
enmity of surrounding tribes. A coalition was formed against them; and a
bloody battle was fought on the plains of Poyauhtlan, in which the
Tlascalans were completely victorious.
Disgusted, however, with their residence among nations with whom they
found so little favor, the conquering people resolved to migrate. They
separated into three divisions, the largest of which, taking a southern
course by the great _volcan_ of Mexico, wound round the ancient city of
Cholula, and finally settled in the district of country overshadowed by
the sierra of Tlascala. The warm and fruitful valleys, locked up in the
embraces of this rugged brotherhood of mountains, afforded means of
subsistence for an agricultural people, while the bold eminences of the
sierra presented secure positions for their towns.
After the lapse of years, the institutions of the nation underwent an
important change. The monarchy was divided first into two, afterwards
into four separate states, bound together by a sort of federal compact,
probably not very nicely defined. Each state, however, had its lord or
supreme chief, independent in his own territories, and possessed of
co-ordinate authority with the others in all matters concerning the
whole republic. The affairs of government, especially all those relating
to peace and war, were settled in a senate or council, consisting of the
four lords with their inferior nobles.
The lower dignitaries held of the superior, each in his own district,
by a kind of feudal tenure, being bound to supply his table and enable
him to maintain his state in peace, as well as to serve him in war.[104]
In return, he experienced the aid and protection of his suzerain. The
same mutual obligations existed between him and the followers among whom
his own territories were distributed.[105] Thus a chain of feudal
dependencies was established, which, if not contrived with all the art
and legal refinements of analogous institutions in the Old World,
displayed their most prominent characteristics in its personal
relations, the obligations of military service on the one hand, and
protection on the other. This form of government, so different from that
of the surrounding nations, subsisted till the arrival of the Spaniards.
And it is certainly evidence of considerable civilization that so
complex a polity should have so long continued, undisturbed by violence
or faction in the confederate states, and should have been found
competent to protect the people in their rights, and the country from
foreign invasion.
The lowest order of the people, however, do not seem to have enjoyed
higher immunities than under the monarchical governments; and their rank
was carefully defined by an appropriate dress, and by their exclusion
from the insignia of the aristocratic orders.[106]
The nation, agricultural in its habits, reserved its highest honors,
like most other rude--unhappily, also, civilized--nations, for military
prowess. Public games were instituted, and prizes decreed to those who
excelled in such manly and athletic exercises as might train them for
the fatigues of war. Triumphs were granted to the victorious general,
who entered the city leading his spoils and captives in long procession,
while his achievements were commemorated in national songs, and his
effigy, whether in wood or stone, was erected in the temples. It was
truly in the martial spirit of republican Rome.[107]
An institution not unlike knighthood was introduced, very similar to one
existing also among the Aztecs. The aspirant to the honors of this
barbaric chivalry watched his arms and fasted fifty or sixty days in
the temple, then listened to a grave discourse on the duties of his new
profession. Various whimsical ceremonies followed, when his arms were
restored to him; he was led in solemn procession through the public
streets, and the inauguration was concluded by banquets and public
rejoicings. The new knight was distinguished henceforth by certain
peculiar privileges, as well as by a badge intimating his rank. It is
worthy of remark that this honor was not reserved exclusively for
military merit, but was the recompense, also, of public services of
other kinds, as wisdom in council, or sagacity and success in trade. For
trade was held in as high estimation by the Tlascalans as by the other
people of Anahuac.[108]
The temperate climate of the table-land furnished the ready means for
distant traffic. The fruitfulness of the soil was indicated by the name
of the country,--_Tlascala_ signifying the “land of bread.” Its wide
plains, to the slopes of its rocky hills, waved with yellow harvests of
maize, and with the bountiful maguey, a plant which, as we have seen,
supplied the materials for some important fabrics. With these, as well
as the products of agricultural industry, the merchant found his way
down the sides of the Cordilleras, wandered over the sunny regions at
their base, and brought back the luxuries which nature had denied to his
own.[109]
The various arts of civilization kept pace with increasing wealth and
public prosperity; at least, these arts were cultivated to the same
limited extent, apparently, as among the other people of Anahuac. The
Tlascalan tongue, says the national historian, simple as beseemed that
of a mountain region, was rough compared with the polished Tezcucan or
the popular Aztec dialect, and, therefore, not so well fitted for
composition. But the Tlascalans made like proficiency with the kindred
nations in the rudiments of science. Their calendar was formed on the
same plan. Their religion, their architecture, many of their laws and
social usages, were the same, arguing a common origin for all. Their
tutelary deity was the same ferocious war-god as that of the Aztecs,
though with a different name; their temples, in like manner, were
drenched with the blood of human victims, and their boards groaned with
the same cannibal repasts.[110]
Though not ambitious of foreign conquest, the prosperity of the
Tlascalans, in time, excited the jealousy of their neighbors, and
especially of the opulent state of Cholula. Frequent hostilities rose
between them, in which the advantage was almost always on the side of
the former. A still more formidable foe appeared in later days in the
Aztecs, who could ill brook the independence of Tlascala when the
surrounding nations had acknowledged, one after another, their influence
or their empire. Under the ambitious Axayacatl, they demanded of the
Tlascalans the same tribute and obedience rendered by other people of
the country. If it were refused, the Aztecs would raze their cities to
their foundations, and deliver the land to their enemies.
To this imperious summons, the little republic proudly replied, “Neither
they nor their ancestors had ever paid tribute or homage to a foreign
power, and never would pay it. If their country was invaded, they knew
how to defend it, and would pour out their blood as freely in defence of
their freedom now as their fathers did of yore, when they routed the
Aztecs on the plains of Poyauhtlan!”[111]
This resolute answer brought on them the forces of the monarchy. A
pitched battle followed, and the sturdy republicans were victorious.
From this period, hostilities between the two nations continued with
more or less activity, but with unsparing ferocity. Every captive was
mercilessly sacrificed. The children were trained from the cradle to
deadly hatred against the Mexicans; and, even in the brief intervals of
war, none of those intermarriages took place between the people of the
respective countries, which knit together in social bonds most of the
other kindred races of Anahuac.
In this struggle the Tlascalans received an important support in the
accession of the Othomis, or Otomies,--as usually spelt by Castilian
writers,--a wild and warlike race originally spread over the table-land
north of the Mexican Valley. A portion of them obtained a settlement in
the republic, and were speedily incorporated in its armies. Their
courage and fidelity to the nation of their adoption showed them worthy
of trust, and the frontier places were consigned to their keeping. The
mountain barriers by which Tlascala is encompassed afforded many strong
natural positions for defence against invasion. The country was open
towards the east, where a valley, of some six miles in breadth, invited
the approach of an enemy. But here it was that the jealous Tlascalans
erected the formidable rampart which had excited the admiration of the
Spaniards, and which they manned with a garrison of Otomies.
Efforts for their subjugation were renewed on a greater scale after the
accession of Montezuma. His victorious arms had spread down the
declivities of the Andes to the distant provinces of Vera Paz and
Nicaragua,[112] and his haughty spirit was chafed by the opposition of a
petty state whose territorial extent did not exceed ten leagues in
breadth by fifteen in length.[113] He sent an army against them under
the command of a favorite son. His troops were beaten, and his son was
slain. The enraged and mortified monarch was roused to still greater
preparations. He enlisted the forces of the cities bordering on his
enemy, together with those of the empire, and with this formidable army
swept over the devoted valleys of Tlascala. But the bold mountaineers
withdrew into the recesses of their hills, and, coolly awaiting their
opportunity, rushed like a torrent on the invaders, and drove them back,
with dreadful slaughter, from their territories.
Still, notwithstanding the advantages gained over the enemy in the
field, the Tlascalans were sorely pressed by their long hostilities with
a foe so far superior to themselves in numbers and resources. The Aztec
armies lay between them and the coast, cutting off all communication
with that prolific region, and thus limited their supplies to the
products of their own soil and manufacture. For more than half a century
they had neither cotton, nor cacao, nor salt. Indeed, their taste had
been so far affected by long abstinence from these articles that it
required the lapse of several generations after the Conquest to
reconcile them to the use of salt at their meals.[114] During the short
intervals of war, it is said, the Aztec nobles, in the true spirit of
chivalry, sent supplies of these commodities as presents, with many
courteous expressions of respect, to the Tlascalan chiefs. This
intercourse, we are assured by the Indian chronicler, was unsuspected by
the people. Nor did it lead to any further correspondence, he adds,
between the parties, prejudicial to the liberties of the republic,
“which maintained its customs and good government inviolate, and the
worship of its gods.”[115]
Such was the condition of Tlascala at the coming of the Spaniards;
holding, it might seem, a precarious existence under the shadow of the
formidable power which seemed suspended like an avalanche over her head,
but still strong in her own resources, stronger in the indomitable
temper of her people; with a reputation established throughout the land
for good faith and moderation in peace, for valor in war, while her
uncompromising spirit of independence secured the respect even of her
enemies. With such qualities of character, and with an animosity
sharpened by long, deadly hostility with Mexico, her alliance was
obviously of the last importance to the Spaniards, in their present
enterprise. It was not easy to secure it.[116]
The Tlascalans had been made acquainted with the advance and victorious
career of the Christians, the intelligence of which had spread far and
wide over the plateau. But they do not seem to have anticipated the
approach of the strangers to their own borders. They were now much
embarrassed by the embassy demanding a passage through their
territories. The great council was convened, and a considerable
difference of opinion prevailed in its members. Some, adopting the
popular superstition, supposed the Spaniards might be the white and
bearded men foretold by the oracles.[117] At all events, they were the
enemies of Mexico, and as such might co-operate with them in their
struggle with the empire. Others argued that the strangers could have
nothing in common with them. Their march throughout the land might be
tracked by the broken images of the Indian gods and desecrated temples.
How did the Tlascalans even know that they were foes to Montezuma? They
had received his embassies, accepted his presents, and were now in the
company of his vassals on the way to his capital.
These last were the reflections of an aged chief, one of the four who
presided over the republic. His name was Xicotencatl. He was nearly
blind, having lived, as is said, far beyond the limits of a
century.[118] His son, an impetuous young man of the same name with
himself, commanded a powerful army of Tlascalan and Otomi warriors, near
the eastern frontier. It would be best, the old man said, to fall with
this force at once on the Spaniards. If victorious, the latter would
then be in their power. If defeated, the senate could disown the act as
that of the general, not of the republic.[119] The cunning counsel of
the chief found favor with his hearers, though assuredly not in the
spirit of chivalry, nor of the good faith for which his countrymen were
celebrated. But with an Indian, force and stratagem, courage and deceit,
were equally admissible in war, as they were among the barbarians of
ancient Rome.[120] The Cempoallan envoys were to be detained under
pretence of assisting at a religious sacrifice.
Meanwhile, Cortés and his gallant band, as stated in the preceding
chapter, had arrived before the rocky rampart on the eastern confines of
Tlascala. From some cause or other, it was not manned by its Otomi
garrison, and the Spaniards passed in, as we have seen, without
resistance. Cortés rode at the head of his body of horse, and, ordering
the infantry to come on at a quick pace, went forward to reconnoitre.
After advancing three or four leagues, he descried a small party of
Indians, armed with sword and buckler, in the fashion of the country.
They fled at his approach. He made signs for them to halt, but, seeing
that they only fled the faster, he and his companions put spurs to their
horses, and soon came up with them. The Indians, finding escape
impossible, faced round, and instead of showing the accustomed terror of
the natives at the strange and appalling aspect of a mounted trooper,
they commenced a furious assault on the cavaliers. The latter, however,
were too strong for them, and would have cut their enemy to pieces
without much difficulty, when a body of several thousand Indians
appeared in sight, coming briskly on to the support of their countrymen.
Cortés, seeing them, despatched one of his party in all haste, to
accelerate the march of his infantry. The Indians, after discharging
their missiles, fell furiously on the little band of Spaniards. They
strove to tear the lances from their grasp, and to drag the riders from
the horses. They brought one cavalier to the ground, who afterwards died
of his wounds, and they killed two of the horses, cutting through their
necks with their stout broadswords--if we may believe the chronicler--at
a blow![121] In the narrative of these campaigns there is sometimes but
one step--and that a short one--from history to romance. The loss of the
horses, so important and so few in number, was seriously felt by Cortés,
who could have better spared the life of the best rider in the troop.
The struggle was a hard one. But the odds were as overwhelming as any
recorded by the Spaniards in their own romances, where a handful of
knights is arrayed against legions of enemies. The lances of the
Christians did terrible execution here also; but they had need of the
magic lance of Astolpho, that overturned myriads with a touch, to carry
them safe through so unequal a contest. It was with no little
satisfaction, therefore, that they beheld their comrades rapidly
advancing to their support.
No sooner had the main body reached the field of battle, than, hastily
forming, they poured such a volley from their muskets and cross-bows as
staggered the enemy. Astounded, rather than intimidated, by the terrible
report of the fire-arms, now heard for the first time in these regions,
the Indians made no further effort to continue the fight, but drew off
in good order, leaving the road open to the Spaniards. The latter, too
well satisfied to be rid of the annoyance to care to follow the
retreating foe, again held on their way.
Their route took them through a country sprinkled over with Indian
cottages, amidst flourishing fields of maize and maguey, indicating an
industrious and thriving peasantry. They were met here by two Tlascalan
envoys, accompanied by two of the Cempoallans. The former, presenting
themselves before the general, disavowed the assault on his troops, as
an unauthorized act, and assured him of a friendly reception at their
capital. Cortés received the communication in a courteous manner,
affecting to place more confidence in its good faith than he probably
felt.
It was now growing late, and the Spaniards quickened their march,
anxious to reach a favorable ground for encampment before nightfall.
They found such a spot on the borders of a stream that rolled sluggishly
across the plain. A few deserted cottages stood along the banks, and the
fatigued and famished soldiers ransacked them in quest of food. All they
could find was some tame animals resembling dogs. These they killed and
dressed without ceremony, and, garnishing their unsavory repast with the
fruit of the _tuna_, the Indian fig, which grew wild in the
neighborhood, they contrived to satisfy the cravings of appetite. A
careful watch was maintained by Cortés, and companies of a hundred men
each relieved each other in mounting guard through the night. But no
attack was made. Hostilities by night were contrary to the system of
Indian tactics.[122]
By break of day on the following morning, it being the second of
September, the troops were under arms. Besides the Spaniards, the whole
number of Indian auxiliaries might now amount to three thousand; for
Cortés had gathered recruits from the friendly places on his
route,--three hundred from the last. After hearing mass, they resumed
their march. They moved in close array; the general had previously
admonished the men not to lag behind, or wander from the ranks a moment,
as stragglers would be sure to be cut off by their stealthy and vigilant
enemy. The horsemen rode three abreast, the better to give one another
support; and Cortés instructed them in the heat of fight to keep
together, and never to charge singly. He taught them how to carry their
lances that they might not be wrested from their hands by the Indians,
who constantly attempted it. For the same reason, they should avoid
giving thrusts, but aim their weapons steadily at the faces of their
foes.[123]
They had not proceeded far, when they were met by the two remaining
Cempoallan envoys, who with looks of terror informed the general that
they had been treacherously seized and confined, in order to be
sacrificed at an approaching festival of the Tlascalans, but in the
night had succeeded in making their escape. They gave the unwelcome
tidings, also, that a large force of the natives was already assembled
to oppose the progress of the Spaniards.
Soon after, they came in sight of a body of Indians, about a thousand,
apparently, all armed, and brandishing their weapons, as the Christians
approached, in token of defiance. Cortés, when he had come within
hearing, ordered the interpreters to proclaim that he had no hostile
intentions, but wished only to be allowed a passage through their
country, which he had entered as a friend. This declaration he commanded
the royal notary, Godoy, to record on the spot, that, if blood were
shed, it might not be charged on the Spaniards. This pacific
proclamation was met, as usual on such occasions, by a shower of darts,
stones, and arrows, which fell like rain on the Spaniards, rattling on
their stout harness, and in some instances penetrating to the skin.
Galled by the smart of their wounds, they called on the general to lead
them on, till he sounded the well-known battle-cry, “St. Jago, and at
them!”[124]
The Indians maintained their ground for a while with spirit, when they
retreated with precipitation, but not in disorder.[125] The Spaniards,
whose blood was heated by the encounter, followed up their advantage
with more zeal than prudence, suffering the wily enemy to draw them into
a narrow glen or defile intersected by a little stream of water, where
the broken ground was impracticable for artillery, as well as for the
movements of cavalry. Pressing forward with eagerness, to extricate
themselves from their perilous position, to their great dismay, on
turning an abrupt angle of the pass, they came in presence of a numerous
army, choking up the gorge of the valley, and stretching far over the
plains beyond. To the astonished eyes of Cortés, they appeared a hundred
thousand men, while no account estimates them at less than thirty
thousand.[126]
They presented a confused assemblage of helmets, weapons, and
many-colored plumes, glancing bright in the morning sun, and mingling
with banners, above which proudly floated one that bore as a device the
heron on a rock. It was the well-known ensign of the house of Titcala,
and, as well as the white and yellow stripes on the bodies and the like
colors on the feather-mail of the Indians, showed that they were the
warriors of Xicotencatl.[127]
As the Spaniards came in sight, the Tlascalans set up a hideous war-cry,
or rather whistle, piercing the ear with its shrillness, and which, with
the beat of their melancholy drums, that could be heard for half a
league or more,[128] might well have filled the stoutest heart with
dismay. This formidable host came rolling on towards the Christians, as
if to overwhelm them by their very numbers. But the courageous band of
warriors, closely serried together and sheltered under their strong
panoplies, received the shock unshaken, while the broken masses of the
enemy, chafing and heaving tumultuously around them, seemed to recede
only to return with new and accumulated force.
Cortés, as usual, in the front of danger, in vain endeavored, at the
head of the horse, to open a passage for the infantry. Still his men,
both cavalry and foot, kept their array unbroken, offering no assailable
point to their foe. A body of the Tlascalans, however, acting in
concert, assaulted a soldier named Moran, one of the best riders in the
troop. They succeeded in dragging him from his horse, which they
despatched with a thousand blows. The Spaniards, on foot, made a
desperate effort to rescue their comrade from the hands of the
enemy,--and from the horrible doom of the captive. A fierce struggle now
began over the body of the prostrate horse. Ten of the Spaniards were
wounded, when they succeeded in retrieving the unfortunate cavalier from
his assailants, but in so disastrous a plight that he died on the
following day. The horse was borne off in triumph by the Indians, and
his mangled remains were sent, a strange trophy, to the different towns
of Tlascala. The circumstance troubled the Spanish commander, as it
divested the animal of the supernatural terrors with which the
superstition of the natives had usually surrounded it. To prevent such a
consequence, he had caused the two horses, killed on the preceding day,
to be secretly buried on the spot.
The enemy now began to give ground gradually, borne down by the riders,
and trampled under the hoofs of their horses. Through the whole of this
sharp encounter the Indian allies were of great service to the
Spaniards. They rushed into the water, and grappled their enemies, with
the desperation of men who felt that “their only safety was in the
despair of safety.”[129] “I see nothing but death for us,” exclaimed a
Cempoallan chief to Marina; “we shall never get through the pass alive.”
“The God of the Christians is with us,” answered the intrepid woman;
“and He will carry us safely through.”[130]
Amidst the din of battle, the voice of Cortés was heard, cheering on his
soldiers. “If we fail now,” he cried, “the Cross of Christ can never be
planted in the land. Forward, comrades! When was it ever known that a
Castilian turned his back on a foe?”[131] Animated by the words and
heroic bearing of their general, the soldiers, with desperate efforts,
at length succeeded in forcing a passage through the dark columns of the
enemy, and emerged from the defile on the open plains beyond.
Here they quickly recovered their confidence with their superiority. The
horse soon opened a space for the manœuvres of the artillery. The close
files of their antagonists presented a sure mark; and the thunders of
the ordnance vomiting forth torrents of fire and sulphurous smoke, the
wide desolation caused in their ranks, and the strangely mangled
carcasses of the slain, filled the barbarians with consternation and
horror. They had no weapons to cope with these terrible engines, and
their clumsy missiles, discharged from uncertain hands, seemed to fall
ineffectual on the charmed heads of the Christians. What added to their
embarrassment was the desire to carry off the dead and wounded from the
field, a general practice among the people of Anahuac, but one which
necessarily exposed them, while thus employed, to still greater loss.
Eight of their principal chiefs had now fallen, and Xicotencatl, finding
himself wholly unable to make head against the Spaniards in the open
field, ordered a retreat. Far from the confusion of a panic-struck mob,
so common among barbarians, the Tlascalan force moved off the ground
with all the order of a well-disciplined army. Cortés, as on the
preceding day, was too well satisfied with his present advantage to
desire to follow it up. It was within an hour of sunset, and he was
anxious before nightfall to secure a good position, where he might
refresh his wounded troops and bivouac for the night.[132]
Gathering up his wounded, he held on his way, without loss of time, and
before dusk reached a rocky eminence, called _Tzompachtepetl_, or “the
hill of Tzompach.” It was crowned by a sort of tower or temple, the
remains of which are still visible.[133] His first care was given to the
wounded, both men and horses. Fortunately, an abundance of provisions
was found in some neighboring cottages; and the soldiers, at least all
who were not disabled by their injuries, celebrated the victory of the
day with feasting and rejoicing.
As to the number of killed or wounded on either side, it is matter of
loosest conjecture. The Indians must have suffered severely, but the
practice of carrying off the dead from the field made it impossible to
know to what extent. The injury sustained by the Spaniards appears to
have been principally in the number of their wounded. The great object
of the natives of Anahuac in their battles was to make prisoners, who
might grace their triumphs and supply victims for sacrifice. To this
brutal superstition the Christians were indebted, in no slight degree,
for their personal preservation. To take the reports of the Conquerors,
their own losses in action were always inconsiderable. But whoever has
had occasion to consult the ancient chroniclers of Spain in relation to
its wars with the infidel, whether Arab or American, will place little
confidence in numbers.[134]
The events of the day had suggested many topics for painful reflection
to Cortés. He had nowhere met with so determined a resistance within the
borders of Anahuac; nowhere had he encountered native troops so
formidable for their weapons, their discipline, and their valor. Far
from manifesting the superstitious terrors felt by the other Indians at
the strange arms and aspect of the Spaniards, the Tlascalans had boldly
grappled with their enemy, and only yielded to the inevitable
superiority of his military science. How important would the alliance of
such a nation be in a struggle with those of their own race,--for
example, with the Aztecs! But how was he to secure this alliance?
Hitherto, all overtures had been rejected with disdain; and it seemed
probable that every step of his progress in this populous land was to be
fiercely contested. His army, especially the Indians, celebrated the
events of the day with feasting and dancing, songs of merriment, and
shouts of triumph. Cortés encouraged it, well knowing how important it
was to keep up the spirits of his soldiers. But the sounds of revelry at
length died away; and, in the still watches of the night, many an
anxious thought must have crowded on the mind of the general, while his
little army lay buried in slumber in its encampment around the Indian
hill.