TREACHERY AND RETRIBUTION--MASSACRE OF THE AZTEC
NOBILITY--DEATH OF MONTEZUMA.
~And bloody treason triumphed.~
* * * * *
~Feeling dies not by the knife;
That cuts at once and kills; its tortured strife
Is with distilled affliction, drop by drop
Oozing its bitterness. Our world is rife
With grief and sorrow; all that we would prop,
Or would be propped with, falls; where shall the ruin stop?~
Passing lightly over some of the subsequent incidents of this stirring
period, we must hasten to the catastrophe of our long drawn tale.
Secure in the possession of his royal prisoner, Cortez now thought he
might safely leave the capital, for a while, and respond to a demand
which pressed urgently upon him, to relieve his little colony at Vera
Cruz, threatened with destruction, not by the natives, but a new band of
adventurers from Spain, who had come to dispute the spoils with the
conquerors. Leaving one of his principal officers in command, with a
part of the forces, he placed himself at the head of the remainder, and
marched quietly off on his new expedition.
Alvarado was a brave knight, but of a rash and headlong disposition, and
utterly destitute of that cool prudence and far-seeing sagacity which
was requisite for so important a station. He soon involved himself in a
most wicked and unjust quarrel with the Aztecs, which had well nigh
overwhelmed him and his diminished band in utter ruin.
Not long after the departure of Cortez, one of the great national
festivals of the Aztecs occurred, at which the flower of the nobility,
not of Tenochtitlan alone, but of all the neighboring cities and towns,
were present. They came only to the peaceful performance of the wonted
rites of their religion, and consequently came unarmed. Their numbers
were very great. They were all apparelled in the richest costume of
their country. Their snow white vestments, their splendid mantles of
feather-work, powdered all over with jewels; their sandals of gold or
silver, and their gaudy head-dresses of many-colored plumes, made an
imposing and magnificent display, as they moved in solemn procession, to
the simple music of their shells and horns, towards the court yard of
the great Teocalli, where the festival was to be celebrated. The immense
area was thronged with the gay multitude of worshippers, who,
unsuspicious of treachery, gave themselves up to the wild dances and all
the customary evolutions of Indian festivity. In the midst of their
solemn sports, Alvarado, with his band of armed followers, rushed in,
like so many tigers let loose upon their prey, and put them to an
indiscriminate slaughter. Scarce one of that gay company escaped the
ruthless massacre. The holy place was drenched with the best blood of
Anahuac, and mourning, desolation, and wo were carried into all the
principal families in the land.
It was a fearful stroke, and fearfully was it repaid upon the heads of
the guilty murderers. On every side the cry of vengeance arose, and its
hoarse murmurs came rolling in upon the capital, like the distant
howlings of a gathering tempest. Myriads of outraged Aztecs, smarting
and chafing under their wounds, and thirsting for a worthy revenge,
thronged the avenues to the capital, and demanded the treacherous
strangers to be offered in sacrifice to their offended gods. Guatimozin,
and many other brave, powerful, fearless chiefs were there, eager to
seize the opportunity to chastise the insolent intruder. Day after day,
they stormed the quarters of the beleaguered foe, pouring in upon them
vollies of arrows, darts and stones, that sorely discomfited, though it
could not dislodge them. Every assailable point was so well guarded by
those terrible engines of destruction, the fire-belching artillery, that
the assailants, numerous as they were, and spurred on by an ungovernable
rage, could make but little impression upon them. Nevertheless, they
would inevitably have carried the defences, and swept away the little
band of ruthless murderers, had not Montezuma interposed, and besought
them, for his sake, to desist from their hostile attacks. From regard to
his safety, they suspended their active operations, but did not
relinquish their settled purpose of vengeance.
One means of annoyance was left to them, which would soon have reduced
the fortress to submission, had not an unexpected succor arrived. All
supplies were cut off from the camp,--already famine began to stare
them in the face, and relax the iron sinew and with it the iron will, of
the haughty Castilian. They were beginning to be reduced to extremities.
A few days more, and the undefended garrison would have fallen into the
hands of those merciless avengers of blood, who would have doomed every
individual to the sacrifice.
At this critical juncture, the all powerful, invincible Cortez returned,
his forces greatly increased by the accession of the very band that had
been sent against him--Narvaez, who had been commissioned to displace
him, having become his friend, and arrayed himself, with his whole
company and munitions of war, under his banner. Hearing of the
disastrous position of his friends in the capital, he hastened with
rapid strides and forced marches to their relief. His progress was
unimpeded by any hostilities on the part of Aztecs, or their allies,
till he entered the city, and joined his forces with those of Alvarado
in the beleaguered citadel. It seems to have been the purpose of the
chiefs to permit a free ingress of the entire force of the enemy,
preferring rather to shut them up to famine there, than to meet them in
the open field.
No sooner was the General, with his augmented army, enclosed within the
walls of the fortress, than active and fearful demonstrations of the
roused and unappeasable spirit of the people began to be made. The
streets and lanes of the city, which were silent and deserted as he
passed through them to his quarters, began to swarm with innumerable
multitudes of warriors, as if the stones, and the very dust of the
earth, were suddenly transformed into armed men. The flat roofs of
their temples and dwellings were covered on every side with fierce wild
figures, frantic with rage, who taunted the Spaniards with their cruel
treachery, and threatened them, in the most violent language, with a
terrible revenge. "You are now again in our power," they cried, "and you
cannot escape. Shut up in your narrow quarters, you are doomed to the
lingering tortures of famine, and wo to the traitorous Aztec, that
furnishes a morsel to relieve your hunger. When, at length, the
faintness of death overtakes you, and you can no longer offer resistance
to our arms, we will again spread the tables in your prison-house, and
fatten you for the sacrifice."
No longer restrained by their reverence for Montezuma, whose
pusillanimity had been the cause of all his and their troubles, they
recommenced their active operations, and stormed the defences with an
energy and perseverance that was truly appalling. Day after day they
deluged the place with arrows and missiles of every kind, which fell in
pitiless showers upon the heads of the besieged, till scarcely one was
left without some wound or bruise. In vain did they apply, as before, to
their royal prisoner, to appease the rage of his subjects, and induce
them once more to send them the customary supplies. In moody silence he
shut himself up in his room, brooding over the ingratitude and treachery
of Cortez, and the injuries and insults he had received at his hand.
Exasperated by this sudden reversal of his schemes of conquest, and
maddened by the sense of hunger which began to be severely felt in his
camp, Cortez resolved to strike terror into the ranks of the besiegers,
by a vigorous sortie at the head of all his cavalry. First sweeping the
avenue by a well directed fire from his heavy guns, which were planted
at the main entrance of the fortress, he rushed out, with all his steel
clad cavaliers, trampling the unprotected assailants under the iron
hoofs of the horses, and dealing death on every side. The mighty mass
gave way before the terrific charge of the advancing column, but
immediately closed in upon its rear as it passed, till it was completely
swallowed up in an interminable sea of fierce and angry foes, whose
accumulating waves swept in from every avenue, and threatened to sweep
them all away, in despite of the fury and power of their dreaded
chargers. Convinced of his danger, the intrepid Castilian wheeled his
horse about, and with a furious shout, called on his brave band to break
a way through the serried ranks of the enemy. Plunging, rearing and
leaping, under the double spur of the rider, and the piercing shafts of
his foe, the fiery animals broke in upon the living wall that impeded
their way, and rushed fiercely on, trampling down hundreds in their
path, till they regained the open avenue, that was defended by their own
artillery. It was not without serious loss, however, that this retreat
was achieved. The fierce Aztecs threw themselves upon the horses, in the
crowd, hanging upon their legs, sometimes inflicting serious wounds upon
them, and sometimes grappling with their riders, dragging them from
their saddles, and carrying off to captivity or sacrifice. At the same
time, they were sorely beset by showers of stones and darts that poured
upon their heads from every building as they passed, battering and
breaking their armor, and terribly bruising both the horse and his
rider.
These sorties were several times repeated, but always with the same
doubtful success. The loss of the Spaniards was always much less than
that of their enemy. But the latter could better afford to lose a
thousand, than the former to lose one. Their ranks were instantly
replenished with fresh combatants, who crowded in upon the scene of
conflict, like the countless thousands of the over-peopled North, that
swarmed upon the fair fields of Italy, as if some used-up world had been
suddenly emptied of its inhabitants. Their numbers seemed rather to
increase than to diminish with every new onset. In the same proportion
their fierce resolution increased.
The haughty Spaniard was now convinced that he had wholly mistaken the
character of the people, whom he had thought to trample down at his
pleasure. A spirit was raised which could not be laid, either by
persuasion or by force. He saw and felt his danger, without the power to
avert it. At length, either by threats or entreaties, or both, he
prevailed on the captive Montezuma once more to interpose in his behalf,
by employing what authority remained to him against his own best friends
and faithful subjects.
The Aztecs, forsaken of their monarch, had bold and talented leaders,
who were competent both to devise and to execute the measures deemed
necessary for the public good, and to lead on their marshalled hosts, to
battle and to victory. Cacama, the young Prince of Tezcuco, burning to
retrieve his fatal error in counselling and aiding the friendly
reception of the Spaniards, now joined all his resources with those of
Cuitlahua and Guatimozin, in endeavoring to recover the ground they had
lost. Their first object was, to rescue the Emperor from his inglorious
imprisonment, never doubting that, with his sacred person at their head,
they would be able to annihilate the treacherous intruders at a blow.
Not far from the city of Tezcuco, and standing out on the bosom of the
lake, several hundred yards from the shore, was a solitary castle of a
heavy and sombre architecture, built upon piles, at such an elevation as
to be above the influence of any extraordinary swell in the waters of
the lake. Consequently, when at its ordinary level, boats could pass
freely under. At this place the princes were accustomed to meet for
private deliberation.
Cortez was informed of these meetings, and knew too well the effect of
the counsels there matured, not to wish them broken up. With a boldness
of design peculiar to himself, he resolved to make Montezuma the
instrument of their destruction. He represented to that monarch the
danger to his own interests, of allowing such a junto of able and
ambitious men to assume the guidance of the public affairs, and
undertake to direct the movements of the people. "What can they do
more," he craftily exclaimed, "but assume the reins of government, under
the specious pretence, which they now falsely set up, that their king is
deprived of his freedom to act, and therefore no longer a king. If, now,
you would save your sceptre and your crown, assert at once your imperial
prerogative--show them you have still the power to speak and to
act--command them, on pain of your royal displeasure, to lay down their
arms, desist from their treasonable assemblages, and repair at once to
your court, to answer for their unloyal designs."
Misled by false representations of the facts, and deceived by the
specious arguments of the Spaniard, Montezuma despatched a message to
the lord of Tezcuco, under the great seal of the empire, which it was
high treason to disregard, commanding him instantly to appear before his
master, to answer for his irregular and ill-advised proceedings. Cacama
was too well aware of the real position of Montezuma, and of the
constraint under which he acted, to give any heed to his mandate.
"Tell my royal master," he replied, "that I am too much his friend to
obey him in this instance. Let him banish the false-hearted Spaniards
from his capital, the vipers whom he has taken to his bosom--let him
ascend once more his imperial throne, not as a vassal, but as the
rightful lord of all these realms, and Cacama will joyfully lay his
crown, his life, his all, at his feet. Montezuma is my master when he is
master of himself. To that dignity we intend to restore him, or perish
in the attempt."
On the evening of the fourth day after the return of the royal
messenger, with this spirited reply of Cacama, a light pirogue, guided
by a single hand, its sole occupant, might have been seen gliding
silently over the Lake to the water-palace, the chosen rendezvous of the
patriot princes. By the proud and majestic bearing of the boatman, it
could be no other than Guatimozin. Securing his skiff by a cord passed
through the fingers of a gigantic hand, curiously carved from the
jutting rafters on which the floor of the palace was laid, he ascended
the steps to the hall, which he found unoccupied and still. He was
presently joined by Cuitlahua and Cacama, arriving from different
directions, in the same stealthy manner. Their number was soon increased
by the arrival of four Tezcucan lords, from whom some important
communications were expected. Scarcely had they entered the hall, and
seated themselves, when, a slight noise from without attracting his
attention, Guatimozin rose, and went towards the door, to ascertain the
cause.
"It is only the chafing of our pirogues against the piles," said one of
the new comers--"let us proceed to business."
Guatimozin, true to his own impulses, heeded not the remark. Stepping
upon the outer battlement, he discerned a slight figure in a canoe,
moving in the shadow of the building, and apparently seeking
concealment. Supposing it might be a servant, left by the Tezcucans in
charge of their boats, he was about returning, when a gentle voice
whispered his name.
"Who calls Guatimozin?" he replied in a whisper, at the same time
leaning towards the intruder.
"Beware of the Tezcucans, beware." The voice was Karee's, but the skiff
shot away, like an arrow, before the Prince had time for further parley.
Returning to the council, he instantly demanded, as if nothing had
happened, that the plans of the evening should be laid open.
A pictured scroll was then produced by the Tezcucans, representing the
contemplated movements of the enemy, which they professed to have
ascertained from authentic sources, and delineating a plan of operations
against them. Guatimozin, somewhat bewildered by the warning he had
received, sat down with his friends to the examination of this scroll.
But, while seemingly intent upon that alone, he contrived to keep a
close watch upon the movements of the Tezcucans. It was soon evident
that their thoughts were not wholly engrossed by the business before
them. A slight noise from without, followed instantly by an exchange of
significant looks between two of the party, confirmed his suspicions.
Instantly dashing away the false scroll, and springing to his feet, he
boldly charged the traitors with a conspiracy; and demanded an immediate
explanation. Alarmed at this mysterious and premature disclosure of
their designs, the chief of the party, without venturing a word of
reply, gave a shrill, piercing whistle, which was immediately responded
to from without. Finding himself entrapped, and not knowing what numbers
he might have to contend with, Guatimozin sprang to the door, stretching
one of the conspirators on the floor as he passed, and succeeded in
reaching his skiff, just as a band of armed men rushed in from the other
quarter. Cuitlahua also effected his escape, though not without a
desperate encounter with one of the advancing party, who attempted to
arrest his flight.
To seize his antagonist with a powerful embrace, to fling him over the
parapet into the water, and to plunge in after him, was the work of an
instant. Swimming under water for some distance, and rising to the
surface within the shadow of the building, he took possession of the
nearest canoe, and, following in the wake of Guatimozin, was soon out
of the reach of danger, or pursuit.
Cacama, unsuspicious of danger, and intent only on the object of their
meeting, was so engrossed with the scroll, and the plans delineated upon
it, that he did not fully comprehend the meaning of this sudden
interruption of their council, until his two friends had disappeared,
and, in their place, a band of twenty armed men stood before him.
Resistance was vain. By order of the chief of the conspirators, he was
seized, securely bound, and carried a prisoner to Tenochtitlan. There,
though treated with indignity by Cortez, and with severity by Montezuma,
he maintained a haughty and independent bearing, sternly refusing to
yield, in the slightest degree, to the insolent dictation of the one, or
the pusillanimous policy of the other. Cuitlahua was afterwards seized
in his own palace of Iztapalapan; but, after a short detention, was
released again, at the instigation of Montezuma.
These outrages, so far from intimidating the people, only excited and
incensed them the more, and led to other and more desperate assaults
upon the beleaguered foe, till Cortez, apprehensive of ultimate defeat
and ruin, applied once more to Montezuma, proposing that he should
appear in person before his people, and require them to lay down their
arms, retire to their homes, and leave his guests in peaceable
possession of the quarters he had voluntarily assigned them.
Arrayed in his royal robes, with the imperial diadem upon his head,
preceded by his officers of state, bearing the golden wands, the emblem
of despotic power, and accompanied by a considerable train of his own
nobles, and some of the principal Castilian cavaliers, the unfortunate
monarch appeared on the battlements, to remonstrate with his own people
for their zeal in the defence of his crown and honor, and appease the
rage of his subjects for insults offered to his own person, and to those
of his loyal nobles. His presence was instantly recognized by the
thronging multitudes below and around. Some prostrated themselves on the
earth in profound reverence, some bent the knee, and all waited in
breathless silence to hear that voice, which had so long ruled them with
despotic sway.
With a sad, but at the same time a calm and dignified tone, the monarch
addressed them, "My children," said he, "why are you here in this fierce
array. The strangers are my friends. I abide with them as their
voluntary guest, and all that you do against them is done against me,
your sovereign and father."
When the monarch declared himself the friend of the detested Spaniard, a
murmur of discontent and rage arose, and ran through the assembled host.
Their ungovernable fury burst at once the barrier of loyalty, and vented
itself in curses upon the king who could, in the hour of their peril,
thus basely forsake his people, and endeavor to betray them into the
hands of a treacherous and blood thirsty foe. "Base Aztec!" they cried,
"woman! coward! go back to the viper friends whom you have taken to your
bosom. No longer worthy to reign over us, we cast away our allegiance
for ever." At the same moment, some powerful arm, more fearless than the
rest, aimed a huge stone at the unprotected head of the king, which
brought him senseless to the ground. His attendants, put off their
guard by the previous calm and reverential attention of the crowd, were
taken by surprise. In vain they interposed their shields and bucklers,
to protect his person from further violence. The fatal blow was struck.
The great Montezuma had received his death-wound from the hand of one of
his own subjects, who, but a moment before, would have sacrificed a
hundred lives, had he possessed them, to shield the person of his
monarch from violence and dishonor.
The effect of this unexpected catastrophe seemed equally appalling to
both the belligerent parties. The Aztecs, struck aghast at their own
sacrilegious deed, dispersed in sorrow and shame to their homes; while
the Spaniards felt that they had lost their only remaining hold upon the
forbearance and regard of a mighty people, whose confidence they had
shamefully abused, and whose altars and houses they had wantonly
desecrated. It was a season of agonizing suspense. To retreat from their
post, and abandon the conquest which they once imagined was nearly
achieved, might be as disastrous as it would be humiliating. To remain
in their narrow quarters, surrounded with countless thousands of
exasperated foes, on whom they must be dependent for their daily
supplies of food, seemed little better than madness. To the proud spirit
of the haughty Castilian, the alternative was scarcely less to be
dreaded than martyrdom. It was manifestly, however, the only resource,
and he resolved to evacuate the city.
Meanwhile, active hostilities had been temporarily suspended. The
unhappy Montezuma, smitten even more severely in heart than in person,
refused alike the condolence of his friends and the skill of the
Castilian surgeon. Tearing off the bandages from his wounds, "leave me
alone," he cried, "I have already outlived my honor and the affection
and confidence of my people. Why should I look again upon the sun or the
earth. The one has no light, the other no flowers for me. Let me die
here. I feel indeed that the gods have smitten me, when I fall by the
hand of one of my own people."
In this disconsolate mood, the spirit of Montezuma took its flight. In
vain did the Castilian general endeavor to suppress, for a time, the
tidings of his death. The loud wailing of his attendants, would have
published it far and wide among the thousands of affectionate hearts,
that listened for every sound that issued from the palace, if they had
not, unknown to the Spaniards, established a kind of telegraphic signal,
by means of which they communicated to the priests on the great
Teocalli, daily reports of the progress of his disease. When the sad
signal was given, announcing the solemn fact, that the great Montezuma
had laid down his honors and his troubles together, it was responded to
by the mournful tones of the great drum of the temple, by ten measured
muffled strokes, conveying the melancholy intelligence to every dwelling
in Tenochtitlan.
The breathing of that populous city was now one universal wail, that
seemed to penetrate the very heavens. Partly from a sincere regard for
the fallen monarch, and partly from the hope that he might thus
conciliate the good will of his afflicted subjects, Cortez directed his
remains to be placed in a splendid coffin, and borne in solemn
procession, by his own nobles, to his palace, that it might be interred
with the customary regal honors. It was received by his people with
every demonstration of affectionate joy and respect. Conveyed with great
pomp to the castle of Chapoltepec, followed by an immense train of
priests, nobles, and common people, it was interred amid all the
imposing ceremonies of the Aztec religion. His wives and children,
frantic with grief, gathered around those hallowed remains, and
testified, by all those tender and delicate tokens which seem the
natural expression of a refined feminine sorrow, their profound sense of
the inestimable loss they had sustained.
By one of those singular coincidences, which tend so strongly to confirm
the too easy credulity of the superstitious, and give an unnatural
emphasis to the common accidents of life, it was the festival of the new
moon, the very day on which Montezuma had promised Tecuichpo that he
would join the household circle at Chapoltepec, that his lifeless
remains were borne thither, in the solemn funereal procession.
"Alas! my father," she cried, "is this the fulfilment of that only
promise which sustained my sinking courage in the hour of separation?"
She said no more. The more profound the sorrow, the fewer words it has
to spare. "The shallow murmur, but the deep are dumb."