SPANIARDS ENTER TLASCALA--DESCRIPTION OF THE CAPITAL--ATTEMPTED
CONVERSION--AZTEC EMBASSY--INVITED TO CHOLULA
1519
The city of Tlascala, the capital of the republic of the same name, lay
at the distance of about six leagues from the Spanish camp. The road led
into a hilly region, exhibiting in every arable patch of ground the
evidence of laborious cultivation. Over a deep _barranca_, or ravine,
they crossed on a bridge of stone, which, according to tradition,--a
slippery authority,--is the same still standing, and was constructed
originally for the passage of the army.[169] They passed some
considerable towns on their route, where they experienced a full measure
of Indian hospitality. As they advanced, the approach to a populous city
was intimated by the crowds who flocked out to see and welcome the
strangers; men and women in their picturesque dresses, with bunches and
wreaths of roses, which they gave to the Spaniards, or fastened to the
necks and caparisons of their horses, in the same manner as at
Cempoalla. Priests, with their white robes, and long matted tresses
floating over them, mingled in the crowd, scattering volumes of incense
from their burning censers. In this way, the multitudinous and motley
procession defiled through the gates of the ancient capital of Tlascala.
It was the twenty-third of September, 1519, the anniversary of which is
still celebrated by the inhabitants as a day of jubilee.[170]
The press was now so great that it was with difficulty the police of the
city could clear a passage for the army; while the _azoteas_, or flat
terraced roofs of the buildings, were covered with spectators, eager to
catch a glimpse of the wonderful strangers. The houses were hung with
festoons of flowers, and arches of verdant boughs, intertwined with
roses and honeysuckle, were thrown across the streets. The whole
population abandoned itself to rejoicing; and the air was rent with
songs and shouts of triumph, mingled with the wild music of the national
instruments, that might have excited apprehensions in the breasts of the
soldiery had they not gathered their peaceful import from the assurance
of Marina and the joyous countenances of the natives.
With these accompaniments, the procession moved along the principal
streets to the mansion of Xicotencatl, the aged father of the Tlascalan
general, and one of the four rulers of the republic. Cortés dismounted
from his horse to receive the old chieftain’s embrace. He was nearly
blind, and satisfied, as far as he could, a natural curiosity respecting
the person of the Spanish general, by passing his hand over his
features. He then led the way to a spacious hall in his palace, where a
banquet was served to the army. In the evening they were shown to their
quarters, in the buildings and open ground surrounding one of the
principal _teocallis_; while the Mexican ambassadors, at the desire of
Cortés, had apartments assigned them next to his own, that he might the
better watch over their safety in this city of their enemies.[171]
Tlascala was one of the most important and populous towns on the
table-land. Cortés, in his letter to the emperor, compares it to
Granada,{*} affirming that it was larger, stronger, and more populous
than the Moorish capital at the time of the conquest, and quite as well
built.[172] But, notwithstanding we are assured by a most respectable
writer at the close of the last century that its remains justify the
assertion,[173] we shall be slow to believe that its edifices could have
rivalled those monuments of Oriental magnificence, whose light, aerial
forms still survive after the lapse of ages, the admiration of every
traveller of sensibility and taste. The truth is, that Cortés, like
Columbus, saw objects through the warm medium of his own fond
imagination, giving them a higher tone of coloring and larger dimensions
than were strictly warranted by the fact. It was natural that the man
who had made such rare discoveries should unconsciously magnify their
merits to his own eyes and to those of others.
{*} [So Coronado compared Zuñi and Granada. What both meant was probably
that the cities, if properly defended, would be as hard to capture as
Granada.--M.]
The houses were built, for the most part, of mud or earth; the better
sort of stone and lime, or bricks dried in the sun. They were unprovided
with doors or windows, but in the apertures for the former hung mats
fringed with pieces of copper or something which, by its tinkling sound,
would give notice of any one’s entrance. The streets were narrow and
dark. The population must have been considerable,{*} if, as Cortés
asserts, thirty thousand souls were often gathered in the market on a
public day. These meetings were a sort of fairs, held, as usual in all
the great towns, every fifth day, and attended by the inhabitants of the
adjacent country, who brought there for sale every description of
domestic produce and manufacture with which they were acquainted. They
peculiarly excelled in pottery, which was considered as equal to the
best in Europe.[174] It is a further proof of civilized habits that the
Spaniards found barbers’ shops, and baths both of vapor and hot water,
familiarly used by the inhabitants. A still higher proof of refinement
may be discerned in a vigilant police which repressed everything like
disorder among the people.[175]
{*} [About the same as that of Cholula, which Bandelier estimated at
30,000.--M.]
The city was divided into four quarters, which might rather be called so
many separate towns, since they were built at different times, and
separated from each other by high stone walls, defining their respective
limits. Over each of these districts ruled one of the four great chiefs
of the republic, occupying his own spacious mansion{*} and surrounded by
his own immediate vassals. Strange arrangement,--and more strange that
it should have been compatible with social order and tranquillity! The
ancient capital, through one quarter of which flowed the rapid current
of the Zahuatl, stretched along the summits and sides of hills, at
whose base are now gathered the miserable remains of its once
flourishing population.[176] Far beyond, to the southeast, extended the
bold sierra of Tlascala, and the huge Malinche, crowned with the usual
silver diadem of the highest Andes, having its shaggy sides clothed with
dark-green forests of firs, gigantic sycamores, and oaks whose towering
stems rose to the height of forty or fifty feet, unencumbered by a
branch. The clouds, which sailed over from the distant Atlantic,
gathered round the lofty peaks of the sierra, and, settling into
torrents, poured over the plains in the neighborhood of the city,
converting them, at such seasons, into swamps. Thunder-storms, more
frequent and terrible here than in other parts of the table-land, swept
down the sides of the mountains and shook the frail tenements of the
capital to their foundations. But, although the bleak winds of the
sierra gave an austerity to the climate, unlike the sunny skies and
genial temperature of the lower regions, it was far more favorable to
the development of both the physical and moral energies. A bold and
hardy peasantry was nurtured among the recesses of the hills, fit
equally to cultivate the land in peace and to defend it in war. Unlike
the spoiled child of Nature, who derives such facilities of subsistence
from her too prodigal hand as supersede the necessity of exertion on his
own part, the Tlascalan earned his bread--from a soil not ungrateful,
it is true--by the sweat of his brow. He led a life of temperance and
toil. Cut off by his long wars with the Aztecs from commercial
intercourse, he was driven chiefly to agricultural labor, the occupation
most propitious to purity of morals and sinewy strength of constitution.
His honest breast glowed with the patriotism, or local attachment to the
soil, which is the fruit of its diligent culture; while he was elevated
by a proud consciousness of independence, the natural birthright of the
child of the mountains. Such was the race with whom Cortés was now
associated for the achievement of his great work.
{*} [One of the great communal houses.--M.]
Some days were given by the Spaniards to festivity, in which they were
successively entertained at the hospitable boards of the four great
nobles, in their several quarters of the city. Amidst these friendly
demonstrations, however, the general never relaxed for a moment his
habitual vigilance, or the strict discipline of the camp; and he was
careful to provide for the security of the citizens by prohibiting,
under severe penalties, any soldier from leaving his quarters without
express permission. Indeed, the severity of his discipline provoked the
remonstrance of more than one of his officers, as a superfluous caution;
and the Tlascalan chiefs took some exception at it, as inferring an
unreasonable distrust of them. But, when Cortés explained it, as in
obedience to an established military system, they testified their
admiration, and the ambitious young general of the republic proposed to
introduce it, if possible, into his own ranks.[177]
The Spanish commander, having assured himself of the loyalty of his new
allies, next proposed to accomplish one of the great objects of his
mission, their conversion to Christianity. By the advice of Father
Olmedo, always opposed to precipitate measures, he had deferred this
till a suitable opportunity presented itself for opening the subject.
Such a one occurred when the chiefs of the state proposed to strengthen
the alliance with the Spaniards by the intermarriage of their daughters
with Cortés and his officers. He told them this could not be while they
continued in the darkness of infidelity. Then, with the aid of the good
friar, he expounded as well as he could the doctrines of the Faith, and,
exhibiting the image of the Virgin with the infant Redeemer, told them
that there was the God in whose worship alone they would find salvation,
while that of their own false idols would sink them in eternal
perdition.
It is unnecessary to burden the reader with a recapitulation of his
homily, which contained, probably, dogmas quite as incomprehensible to
the untutored Indian as any to be found in his own rude mythology. But,
though it failed to convince his audience, they listened with a
deferential awe. When he had finished, they replied they had no doubt
that the God of the Christians must be a good and a great God, and as
such they were willing to give him a place among the divinities of
Tlascala. The polytheistic system of the Indians, like that of the
ancient Greeks, was of that accommodating kind which could admit within
its elastic folds the deities of any other religion, without violence to
itself.[178] But every nation, they continued, must have its own
appropriate and tutelary deities. Nor could they, in their old age,
abjure the service of those who had watched over them from youth. It
would bring down the vengeance of their gods, and of their own nation,
who were as warmly attached to their religion as their liberties, and
would defend both with the last drop of their blood!
It was clearly inexpedient to press the matter further at present. But
the zeal of Cortés, as usual, waxing warm by opposition, had now mounted
too high for him to calculate obstacles; nor would he have shrunk,
probably, from the crown of martyrdom in so good a cause. But,
fortunately, at least for the success of his temporal cause, this crown
was not reserved for him.
The good monk, his ghostly adviser, seeing the course things were likely
to take, with better judgment interposed to prevent it. He had no
desire, he said, to see the same scenes acted over again as at
Cempoalla. He had no relish for forced conversions. They could hardly
be lasting. The growth of an hour might well die with the hour. Of what
use was it to overturn the altar, if the idol remained enthroned in the
heart? or to destroy the idol itself, if it were only to make room for
another? Better to wait patiently the effect of time and teaching to
soften the heart and open the understanding, without which there could
be no assurance of a sound and permanent conviction. These rational
views were enforced by the remonstrances of Alvarado, Velasquez de Leon,
and those in whom Cortés placed most confidence; till, driven from his
original purpose, the military polemic consented to relinquish the
attempt at conversion for the present, and to refrain from a repetition
of scenes which, considering the different mettle of the population,
might have been attended with very different results from those at
Cozumel and Cempoalla.[179]
In the course of our narrative we have had occasion to witness more than
once the good effects of the interposition of Father Olmedo. Indeed, it
is scarcely too much to say that his discretion in spiritual matters
contributed as essentially to the success of the expedition as did the
sagacity and courage of Cortés in temporal. He was a true disciple in
the school of Las Casas. His heart was unscathed by that fiery
fanaticism which sears and hardens whatever it touches. It melted with
the warm glow of Christian charity. He had come out to the New World as
a missionary among the heathen, and he shrank from no sacrifice but that
of the welfare of the poor benighted flock to whom he had consecrated
his days. If he followed the banners of the warrior, it was to mitigate
the ferocity of war, and to turn the triumphs of the Cross to a good
account for the natives themselves, by the spiritual labors of
conversion. He afforded the uncommon example--not to have been looked
for, certainly, in a Spanish monk of the sixteenth century--of
enthusiasm controlled by reason, a quickening zeal tempered by the mild
spirit of toleration.
But, though Cortés abandoned the ground of conversion for the present,
he compelled the Tlascalans to break the fetters of the unfortunate
victims reserved for sacrifice; an act of humanity unhappily only
transient in its effects, since the prisons were filled with fresh
victims on his departure.
He also obtained permission for the Spaniards to perform the services of
their own religion unmolested. A large cross was erected in one of the
great courts or squares. Mass was celebrated every day in the presence
of the army and of crowds of natives, who, if they did not comprehend
its full import, were so far edified that they learned to reverence the
religion of their conquerors. The direct interposition of Heaven,
however, wrought more for their conversion than the best homily of
priest or soldier. Scarcely had the Spaniards left the city--the tale is
told on very respectable authority--when a thin, transparent cloud
descended and settled like a column on the cross, and, wrapping it round
in its luminous folds, continued to emit a soft, celestial radiance
through the night, thus proclaiming the sacred character of the symbol,
on which was shed the halo of divinity![180]
The principle of toleration in religious matters being established, the
Spanish general consented to receive the daughters of the caciques. Five
or six of the most beautiful of the Indian maidens were assigned to as
many of his principal officers, after they had been cleansed from the
stains of infidelity by the waters of baptism. They received, as usual,
on this occasion, good Castilian names, in exchange for the barbarous
nomenclature of their own vernacular.[181] Among them, Xicotencatl’s
daughter, Doña Luisa, as she was called after her baptism, was a
princess of the highest estimation and authority in Tlascala. She was
given by her father to Alvarado, and their posterity intermarried with
the noblest families of Castile. The frank and joyous manners of this
cavalier made him a great favorite with the Tlascalans; and his bright,
open countenance, fair complexion, and golden locks gave him the name of
_Tonatiuh_, the “Sun.” The Indians often pleased their fancies by
fastening a _sobriquet_, or some characteristic epithet, on the
Spaniards. As Cortés was always attended, on public occasions, by Doña
Marina, or Malinche, as she was called by the natives, they
distinguished him by the same name. By these epithets, originally
bestowed in Tlascala, the two Spanish captains were popularly designated
among the Indian nations.[182]
While these events were passing, another embassy arrived from the court
of Mexico. It was charged, as usual, with a costly donative of embossed
gold plate, and rich embroidered stuffs of cotton and feather-work. The
terms of the message might well argue a vacillating and timid temper in
the monarch, did they not mask a deeper policy. He now invited the
Spaniards to his capital, with the assurance of a cordial welcome. He
besought them to enter into no alliance with the base and barbarous
Tlascalans; and he invited them to take the route of the friendly city
of Cholula, where arrangements, according to his orders, were made for
their reception.[183]
The Tlascalans viewed with deep regret the general’s proposed visit to
Mexico. Their reports fully confirmed all he had before heard of the
power and ambition of Montezuma. His armies, they said, were spread over
every part of the continent. His capital was a place of great strength,
and as, from its insular position, all communication could be easily cut
off with the adjacent country, the Spaniards, once entrapped there,
would be at his mercy. His policy, they represented, was as insidious as
his ambition was boundless. “Trust not his fair words,” they said, “his
courtesies, and his gifts. His professions are hollow, and his
friendships false.” When Cortés remarked that he hoped to bring about a
better understanding between the emperor and them, they replied it would
be impossible; however smooth his words, he would hate them at heart.
They warmly protested, also, against the general’s taking the route of
Cholula. The inhabitants, not brave in the open field, were more
dangerous from their perfidy and craft. They were Montezuma’s tools, and
would do his bidding. The Tlascalans seemed to combine with this
distrust a superstitious dread of the ancient city, the headquarters of
the religion of Anahuac. It was here that the god Quetzalcoatl held the
pristine seat of his empire. His temple was celebrated throughout the
land, and the priests were confidently believed to have the power, as
they themselves boasted, of opening an inundation from the foundations
of his shrine, which should bury their enemies in the deluge. The
Tlascalans further reminded Cortés that, while so many other and distant
places had sent to him at Tlascala to testify their good will and offer
their allegiance to his sovereigns, Cholula, only six leagues distant,
had done neither. The last suggestion struck the general more forcibly
than any of the preceding. He instantly despatched a summons to the
city, requiring a formal tender of its submission.
Among the embassies from different quarters which had waited on the
Spanish commander, while at Tlascala, was one from Ixtlilxochitl, son of
the great Nezahualpilli, and an unsuccessful competitor with his elder
brother--as noticed in a former part of our narrative--for the crown of
Tezcuco.[184] Though defeated in his pretensions, he had obtained a part
of the kingdom, over which he ruled with a deadly feeling of animosity
towards his rival, and to Montezuma, who had sustained him. He now
offered his services to Cortés, asking his aid, in return, to place him
on the throne of his ancestors. The politic general returned such an
answer to the aspiring young prince as might encourage his expectations
and attach him to his interests. It was his aim to strengthen his cause
by attracting to himself every particle of disaffection that was
floating through the land.
It was not long before deputies arrived from Cholula, profuse in their
expressions of good will, and inviting the presence of the Spaniards in
their capital. The messengers were of low degree, far beneath the usual
rank of ambassadors. This was pointed out by the Tlascalans; and Cortés
regarded it as a fresh indignity. He sent in consequence a new summons,
declaring if they did not instantly send him a deputation of their
principal men he would deal with them as _rebels_ to his own sovereign,
the rightful lord of these realms![185] The menace had the desired
effect. The Cholulans were not inclined to contest, at least for the
present, his magnificent pretensions. Another embassy appeared in the
camp, consisting of some of the highest nobles; who repeated the
invitation for the Spaniards to visit their city, and excused their own
tardy appearance by apprehensions for their personal safety in the
capital of their enemies. The explanation was plausible, and was
admitted by Cortés.
The Tlascalans were now more than ever opposed to his projected visit. A
strong Aztec force, they had ascertained, lay in the neighborhood of
Cholula, and the people were actively placing their city in a posture of
defence. They suspected some insidious scheme concerted by Montezuma to
destroy the Spaniards.
These suggestions disturbed the mind of Cortés, but did not turn him
from his purpose. He felt a natural curiosity to see the venerable city
so celebrated in the history of the Indian nations. He had, besides,
gone too far to recede,--too far, at least, to do so without a show of
apprehension implying a distrust in his own resources which could not
fail to have a bad effect on his enemies, his allies, and his own men.
After a brief consultation with his officers, he decided on the route to
Cholula.[186]
It was now three weeks since the Spaniards had taken up their residence
within the hospitable walls of Tlascala, and nearly six since they
entered her territory. They had been met on the threshold as enemies,
with the most determined hostility. They were now to part with the same
people as friends and allies; fast friends, who were to stand by them,
side by side, through the whole of their arduous struggle. The result of
their visit, therefore, was of the last importance; since on the
co-operation of these brave and warlike republicans greatly depended the
ultimate success of the expedition.