Part 31

After a month’s stay Cortez set out again with 5000 of these new allies, “men much experienced in warfare,” as he himself allows. In the neighborhood of Cholula he sent the inhabitants word, on receiving their envoys, that they must become vassals of the Spanish crown, saying if no reply were received within three days, he would attack and destroy them. This menace had its effect, and great hospitality was shown to the Spaniards and their allies. The streets and roofs were crowded with people as the army entered the town, and they were lodged in several large halls. The drain on the stores of the natives was so great that on the third day they brought only water, rushes, and wood. The scantiness of these offerings was to Cortez a demonstration that the townspeople were disaffected and were plotting against their guests. He issued an order therefore that all the chief men of the place should assemble in the court of the temple of Quetzalcohuatl. Suspecting no harm, they obeyed. To strike terror into the natives, Cortez planned to murder the principal men and the priests; but there were a great many other warriors of the pueblo in the inclosure so crowded together they could not move. At the entrance were stationed the Spaniards, who, at a given signal, rushed on the unarmed mass. Some were mowed down; some burnt themselves alive, while others cast themselves down from the temple pyramid, the raised platform on which the altar was placed. In two hours, according to Cortez, 3000 met their death. The massacre was continued in the streets for five hours; none were spared until the pueblo was deserted. The carnage continued the next day, gladly shared in by the Tlaxcalans, who had come in to take their part of the pillage. It was the commander’s intention to demolish the place altogether, and the cruel work took two days more.

A fresh start was made on November 1st. The pueblos subsequently visited by the expedition were terrorized by the massacre at Cholula, and there was no stint of offerings. Cortez, too, being now in a better temper because of the jewels, gold, and precious stones so easily collected, did not forget to explain that he had come to save the new vassals of the Spanish Crown from robbery and oppression. In each pueblo he won the inhabitants over by his dexterous diplomacy and pleasing manners, and they readily became his allies. No opposition was encountered during the rest of the journey to Mexico. Meanwhile the news of the massacre at Cholula had completely unnerved Montezuma; “he humbled himself like a reed”; there was no thought of resistance. He sent one of his chief men to impersonate him, as he was afraid to meet Cortez himself. The deceit was soon discovered by the Indian allies, and the substitute for royalty returned in confusion, leaving rich presents behind. Montezuma consulted his magical experts again, but the auspices and enchantments were no more favorable than before. He now saw only death for all his people and for himself; with a fixed fatalism he was convinced there was no escape. Tradition told him that the people from the land of the rising sun were invincible.

It was the eighth day of November when the Spaniards reached the capital of the Aztecs. The army must have been imposing in its size, and perhaps Montezuma’s religious scruples may have been reinforced by others of a different character when he saw the number of his enemies and revolted subjects who followed Cortez. Father Sahagun, a most reliable authority, who visited Mexico in 1529, says that “hardly had the rear guard moved from Ixtapalapan when the vanguard was already entering Mexico.” The welcome was in harmony with the respect caused by the size of the expedition and by the superstitious fears of the Aztec overlord. A thousand of the principal men came out to greet Cortez a half-league from the town. A quarter of a league from the palace Montezuma presented himself with ceremonious pomp, accompanied by the lords of the greater pueblos. He was supported by Cacomer, king of Texcoco, and Cuitlahuatzin, king of Ixtapalapan, each holding him by an arm on either side. All three were dressed alike, except that Montezuma was shod. When Cortez dismounted to embrace him the two accompanying lords forcibly prevented him from touching their master. Flowers were offered according to the Aztec custom; likewise gold and precious stones.

After reassuring the Aztec ruler of his amicable intentions, Cortez went with his suite to lodgings assigned in the treasury of one of the temples, a residence selected because of their character as divine beings. Montezuma spoke to Cortez of the prophecy of the return of Quetzalcohuatl, expressed his willingness to become the vassal of the great lord of the land of the rising sun; and repelled the charges made against him by the people of Tlaxcala and Cempoala. He made, too, a special point of denying the stories of having houses with golden walls and of being served with gold furnishings and vessels. “The houses,” he said, “which you see are stone and chalk and earth; it is true that I have some things of gold left me by my ancestors; all that I have do you take whenever you want it.” The offer was made effective immediately. Cortez had received already many different jewels, much gold and silver and feathers, and five or six thousand pieces of cotton goods, very rich and in divers manners woven and worked. After the interview rich presents of gold were made to the commander, as well as to the captains and to each of the soldiers.

The Spaniards kept watchful guard in spite of the sumptuous welcome; the soldiers were restless and desired to sack the town. Their attitude did not escape the attention of the natives, who began to suspect their motives in remaining in the city. Food commenced to give out, and the horses suffered and also the dogs. In a short time the men did not scruple to sack some of the dwellings near Montezuma’s palace; they showed also little respect for the native women, many of whom had shut themselves up in terror at threatened maltreatment.

It was a well-known and settled policy on the part of the Spaniards in their conquests in the Antilles to seize the native chiefs in order to reduce the members of the tribe to submission. This is made clear in a letter from several Dominican friars, written home as early as 1516, when the practice is noticed. In mentioning it, they explain that the Indians are a people who love their lords much and are very loyal to them. This strategy was now employed with complete success by Cortez. He determined to force Montezuma to take up his residence in the Spanish quarters by use of fair words, then to threaten him immediately with death if he tried to escape from captivity. As an excuse for putting this daring program into execution, Cortez, who entered the palace accompanied by his captains, after the usual friendly welcome, charged Montezuma with responsibility for the death of two Spaniards at Nautlan. Cuauhpopoca, the local chief, it seems, had caused them to be executed because of their offenses and excesses. Some time passed in discussing the charge which the Aztec monarch, of course, denied. Cortez’ comrades wished to hasten proceedings by killing the Aztec at once. Finally Montezuma, completely terrorized, agreed to accompany Cortez, and also followed his direction that he should tell his people that the step was taken voluntarily at the advice of his priests.

The chief of Nautlan, his son, and fifteen of the principal men of the pueblo were summoned to the capital by Montezuma. Cortez ordered them to be burnt; at the same time directions were given that all the arms in the city should be collected. Fifteen cartloads in all were to be burnt with the prisoners. Before the execution they confessed that they had acted by order of Montezuma. Cortez put his prisoner in chains, and this outrage was allowed to pass unavenged, for the Aztec lords feared that their ruler would be slain. The timorous monarch told his subjects that what he was enduring in the Spanish quarters had divine sanction. Having the king in his possession, Cortez made detailed inquiry as to the location of gold and silver mines. Much gold was collected, and, whenever there was resistance to the orders from the capital, the chiefs who refused to give up their possessions were treated as rebels to their overlord, and either killed on the spot or imprisoned after being summoned to the capital by orders issued through Montezuma.

Cortez was delighted at the willing compliance of the king in playing the rôle of a puppet in his hands, and he wondered because “great lord as he was, that being a prisoner as he was, he was so much obeyed.” On his own initiative, Montezuma addressed his chieftains, telling them that the Spaniards were sent by Quetzalcohuatl, and begging them to be obedient to Cortez in every respect, urging them to accept their position of vassalage to Spain. This was the signal for another great collecting expedition among the Aztec feudatories, the chief contributor being Montezuma himself. The chronicler’s powers of description are exhausted in enumerating the wealth that poured into the hands of the eager adventurers. There was no scruple in taking what was left after the regular tribute of vassalage had been paid.

The commander, however, was very unwilling to proceed to the distribution, and when he could resist his soldiers’ demands no longer, it was found that the greater part of the three and a half million dollars’ worth of metal had been retained by the leader and the captains. He met their complaints by telling them that they all would be very prosperous and rich, because they would be the masters of rich cities and mines. As a more practical argument, he went among the soldiers giving them secretly gold ornaments, and making individual promises of reward.

Meanwhile the rapacity of the adventurers and their open display of their wealth did not bring so much odium upon them as their forcible efforts to convert the natives. A Christian chapel was placed in the chief temple, an action which seems to have contributed to destroy the illusion among the people that there existed some relation between the newcomers and their god Quetzalcohuatl. The undisguised enmity soon came to a head in plans for a revolt that included a general massacre of the Europeans. When information of the plot was conveyed to Montezuma, who seemed worried at the fate of his strange guests and advised their leaving the city, Cortez spoke of the destruction of his ships and told the king that, when ships were prepared, the latter must go with them to see their emperor. Workmen were sent to Villa Rica to prepare the vessels, but it was probably with no serious intent beyond the purpose of deceiving the prisoners.

This was the state of affairs after five months’ residence in Mexico, when news came that Spanish ships were off the coast, 16 vessels, large and small, 1400 soldiers, 80 horses, and 20 pieces of artillery. When the envoys landed, they summoned the captain of Vera Cruz to accept as superior officer Narvaez, who had been sent by Velasquez to take possession of the country. The four Spanish envoys were hurried off as prisoners under an escort of natives who, by forced marches night and day, reached Mexico in four days. Cortez, with characteristic diplomacy, excused the rude behavior of his lieutenant. Indeed, adequate reparation was made, not only by smooth speeches, of which Cortez was past-master, but by the more telling arguments of gold strips and ornaments. They, in turn, told all they knew of the expedition of Narvaez, and regained the coast, won over by the munificence and the amicable manners of the commander.

No time was lost in heading off Narvaez’ expedition from entrance into the interior. Cortez took most of his men and probably a large force of the native allies sufficient to block Narvaez’ march to the capital. Only 130 Spaniards were left in Mexico under the command of Alvarado. While Narvaez was sojourning at Cempoala despoiling the neighborhood of the few valuables that remained there after Cortez’ march, one of the ecclesiastics from Cortez’ army was sent to visit the rival camp. He showed much dexterity in winning over important men-at-arms, especially those of the artillery, by a judicious distribution of gifts, though outwardly he made loud profession of devotion to Narvaez. The work of this skilled emissary was made the easier because Narvaez kept all the spoil he collected for himself; the contrast was not left unnoticed by the men whom the commander had won.

When the work of undermining Narvaez’ men had been completed, the Friar Olmedo found it easy to break off negotiations and return to his own camp. There was now little difficulty in settling the affairs between the two captains without bloodshed; Narvaez’ men were ready to abandon him. Cortez, as he explains in a letter to Charles V, after drawing near to Cempoala with his army, entered Narvaez’ camp with a few followers by night and, before he was observed, took his rival prisoner. There was only a little fighting; two were killed by artillery fire in preventing those who wished to rescue Narvaez from entering a tower where he had his quarters. This strategy seemed to Cortez the best way “to avoid a scandal,” but less satisfactory to his men was the division of booty found in the camp. Cortez gave it all to Narvaez’ men. “They were many and we were few,” Diaz del Castillo regretfully explains; “Cortez feared that they might kill him and his small band of men-at-arms.”

With the advent of this new army of marauders in the country there appeared a plague of smallpox, a disease hitherto unknown. It made frightful ravages, and its effects were compared by the Indians to those of leprosy. No mention is made of the epidemic by Cortez; he was too alarmed at the news which came from Mexico to heed the sufferings of the native population, who were dying like cattle. While he had been so successful on the coast, his garrison in the capital had been attacked; their quarters had been partly burned and undermined, and Cortez was afraid that all the treasure would be lost, his men massacred, and the city sacrificed. No word had come from Montezuma; it seemed that the worst must have happened.

The difficult situation in which Alvarado was placed was due to his own brutality. Before Cortez had left the city, he had given permission that the festival of the god Toxcatl should be celebrated with the accustomed ceremonies. Alvarado added as further conditions that they should bear no arms nor offer human sacrifices. This festal occasion lent itself readily to a repetition of the butchery of Cholula, and some authorities go so far as to think that Cortez had given secret commands for the massacre before he set off for the coast. While the chiefs, warriors, and other leading men, more than 1000 in number, were solemnly dancing in honor of their god in the court of the temple, unarmed and covered with gold ornaments and jewels and singing as they moved about, half the men of the Spanish garrison entered and ranged themselves around the wall, after closing the entrances to the courtyard. The Indians, thinking they had come in as curious spectators, made no break in the ordinary ritual; suddenly the dancers and the spectators were set upon, and the patio of the temple was soon filled with dismembered heads, arms, and legs. The court was soon nothing but a human shambles. Some tried to escape by climbing over the side walls or by rushing up the temple steps; others feigned to be dead; only a few saved themselves.

The massacre lasted an hour, and, carefully planned as it must have been, no hitch occurred during its progress. The people outside finally got news of what was happening and, picking up their weapons, they made savage attacks on the Spaniards, forcing them back to their quarters. Alvarado himself was wounded on the head. Finding refuge, the Spaniards barricaded themselves as well as they could, and the Indians turned to bury their dead, an operation which took many days on account of the elaborate ceremonial required by the dignity of those who had perished. After the funeral ceremonies, the Mexicans returned impetuously to the attack on the Spanish quarters.

It would have gone hard with Cortez’ men if Montezuma had not interfered in their behalf. Speaking from the roof of the building where he was kept a prisoner, he gave orders to the Aztec warriors to stop the fight. Cortez had heard of the massacre from both sides, as Montezuma had sent to him envoys to complain of Alvarado’s wanton slaughter in the temple. He promised to do justice when he arrived, and also spoke, as a proof of his peaceful temper, of the small force he was bringing back with him. As a matter of fact, when he re-entered the city there were over 1000 Europeans and many allies with him; in Tlaxcala alone he enlisted the services of 2000 men. No opposition was made to this formidable force taking up their old quarters.

It was strange that Cortez, who was usually quick to punish any contravention of his orders, took no account of the massacre. He omits mentioning it in his letters to Charles V, and it is not surprising that Friar Sahagun reports that Cortez approved of the crime and told Alvarado he had done well. In the disturbed conditions in the city no market was held, and the Spaniards were no longer provided with food. Montezuma excused the omission because of his imprisonment. Threatening words were spoken by Cortez, and from this time his prisoner ceased to exert any influence to prevent the revolt against the invaders.

A messenger sent out to Vera Cruz returned to his comrades with the news a half hour later that the whole city was up in arms. Even a group of 200 Spaniards could make no headway through the streets. The Indians faced the artillery in close array, and as fast as they were mowed down, the gaps were filled up by others. They fought with a desperation which caused wonderment even from men in Cortez’ army who had served against the Turks. Constructions of wood were made to protect the Spaniards from the showers of stones that poured down on them from the housetops, while they tried to clear the streets covered with barricades. But they could make no progress, and finally they withdrew to their quarters, pursued by the Aztecs, who entered the palace in the face of the desperate resistance of the Europeans. They threatened to leave no Spaniard alive, yet they begged as suppliants for their lord Montezuma to be given back to them.

Though there are conflicting details given of the Aztec attack on the Spanish quarters, there is not much doubt but that Montezuma had been killed on the morning of the 27th of August, the day the wooden engines were first used. The monarch was no longer of any use now that he had refused to keep the revolt in check. There are different accounts of the murder, but there seems a fairly general agreement that Montezuma was stabbed to death.

As there was no longer any hope of defending their quarters successfully, Cortez tried to save himself and his men by a ruse. The dead body of the Aztec ruler was taken up on the roof, covered with a large shield so that the fact that it was a corpse could not be seen clearly. Then one of the feudatories, the lord of Tlaclolco, addressed the crowd and bade them, as if speaking in the presence of his master, to give up the attack on the Spaniards, because, if they persisted, he was afraid he would be killed. Little impression was made; injurious words were spoken against the vacillating and effeminate ruler, supposedly still alive before them. There was a volley of arrows, and some say the body was struck by a stone. This is the basis of a story circulated purposely by Cortez and others that the monarch had died from the wounds received on the roof, where he had gone voluntarily to speak to his people. It was a dangerous thing for Cortez to confess to the murder, for Montezuma, be it remembered, had accepted the position of a vassal of the Spanish crown. When the Aztecs showed no sign of taking a peaceful attitude, Cortez himself tried the plan of addressing them from the roof, but his diplomacy was of no avail. The only conditions offered were withdrawal from Aztec territory; as long as he stayed in the city, the Aztecs said, they would keep up the fight.

Further essays at street combats showed this to be no idle threat; forty-six Spaniards were killed and persistent attempts were made to pull down the walls of their quarters, while missiles of all kinds were directed on the defenders day and night. In order to bring some relief to this perilous position, Cortez sent one of the prisoners to announce the death of Montezuma, and offered to give up the body, knowing that the burial ceremonies would keep his enemies occupied for several days. But the animosity of the people was not to be diverted from their prey. Cortez was afraid that the one causeway, that to Tlacopan, would be destroyed and the sole means of escape cut off. His men were discouraged; indeed, those who had belonged to Narvaez’ expedition were in a state of mutiny.

One of the Aztec priests and other leading men previously held as prisoners were sent to ask permission for the Spaniards to leave on condition that all the gold should be given up. Timbers were prepared to place across the ditches near the causeway, and a plan of escape was mapped out for the Europeans and their allies. The treasure was carefully guarded by the allies, but before the night appointed for the retreat all the Aztec prisoners were put to death. The soldiers also found a large quantity of gold which they divided among themselves. The exit from the city began just before midnight; there was a severe thunderstorm which kept the Europeans from being observed until they got past the first ditch; here they were seen by a native woman who was drawing water there. She gave the alarm, and before the second ditch was reached the Mexican warriors had gathered to annihilate their enemies. There was immediately a panic, and those who were carrying the gold were forced into the ditch. Diaz remarks laconically, “The gold killed them and they died rich.”

The only Europeans saved were those who carried small amounts of gold. On the mass of Indian allies drowning in the ditch the Spaniards threw their loads; using this living embankment a few of them made their way to safety. Everyone looked out for himself, and when Cortez was reproached for deserting his men, he replied that it was a miracle that anyone had crossed the causeway alive. It was some time before Alvarado, with the miserable surviving rear-guard of seven soldiers, all in a sad plight, reached the main body of the army at Tlacopan. (August, 1520.)