 Book 4, Chapter 3 of the History of the Conquest of Mexico. Anxiety of Cortez, seizure of Montezuma, his treatment by the Spaniards, execution of his officers, Montezuma in irons, reflections. The Spaniards had been now a week in Mexico. During this time they had experienced the most friendly treatment from the Emperor. But the mind of Cortez was far from easy. He felt that it was quite uncertain how long this amiable temper would last. A hundred circumstances might occur to change it. He might very naturally feel the maintenance of so large a body to burdensome on his treasury. The people of the capital might become dissatisfied at the present of so numerous an armed force within their walls. Many causes of disgust might arise betwixt the soldiers and the citizens. Indeed it was scarcely possible that a rude, licentious soldier like the Spaniards could be long kept in subjection without active employment. The danger was even greater with the Tlascarlands, a fierce race now brought into daily contact with the nation who held them in loathing and detestation. Rumours were already rife among the Allies, whether well founded or not, of murmurs among the Mexicans, accompanied by menaces of raising the bridges. Even should the Spaniards be allowed to occupy their present quarters unmolested, it was not advancing the great object of the expedition. Cortez was not a wit nearer gaining the capital, so essential to his meditated subjugation of the country, and any day he might receive tidings that the crown, or what he most feared, the Governor of Cuba, had sent a force of superior strength to rest from him a conquest but half achieved. Disturbed by these anxious reflections, he resolved to extricate himself from his embarrassment by one bold stroke. But he first submitted the affair to a council of the officers in whom he most confided, embarrassed to divide with them the responsibility of the act, and no doubt to interest them more heartily in its execution by making it, in some measure, the result of their combined judgments. When the General had briefly stated the embarrassments of their position, the council was divided in opinion. All admitted the necessity of some instant action. One party were for retiring secretly from the city, and getting beyond the causeways before their march could be intercepted. Another advised that it should be done openly with the knowledge of the Emperor of whose good will they had had so many proofs. But both these measures seemed alike in politics. A retreat under these circumstances, and so abruptly made, would have the air of a flight it would be construed into distrust of themselves, and anything like timidity on their part would be sure not only to bring on them the Mexicans, but the contempt of their allies who would doubtless join in the general cry. As to Montezuma, what reliance could they place on the protection of a prince so recently their enemy, and who, in his altered bearing, must have taken counsel of his fears rather than his inclinations? Even should they succeed in reaching the coast? Their situation would be little better. It would be proclaiming to the world that after all their lofty vaults they were unequal to the enterprise. Their only hopes of their sovereign's favour, and of pardon for their irregular proceedings, were founded on success. Hitherto they had only made the discovery of Mexico. To retreat would be to leave conquest and the fruits of it to another. In short, to stay and to retreat seemed equally disastrous. In this perplexity Cortes proposed an expedient, which none but the most daring spirit in the most desperate extremity would have conceived. This was to march to the royal palace and bring Montezuma to the Spanish quarters by fair means if they could persuade him, by force if necessary, at all events to get possession of his person. With such a pledge the Spaniards would be secure from the assault of the Mexicans, afraid by acts of violence to compromise the safety of their prince. If he came by his own consent they would be deprived of all apology for doing so. As long as the emperor remained among the Spaniards it would be easy by allowing him a show of sovereignty to rule in his name until they had taken measures for securing their safety and the success of their enterprise. The idea of employing a sovereign as a tool for the government of his own kingdom, if a new one in the age of Cortes, is certainly not so in ours. A plausible pretext for the seizure of the hospitable monarch, for the most bare-faced action seeks to veil itself under some show of decency, was afforded by a circumstance of which Cortes had received intelligence at Cholula. He had left, as we have seen, a faithful officer, Juan de Escalante, with a hundred and fifty men in Garrison at Veracruz, on his departure for the capital. He had not been long absent when his lieutenant received a message from an Aztec chief named Cuau Popoca, governor of a district to the north of the Spanish settlement, declaring his desire to come in person and tender his allegiance to the Spanish authorities at Veracruz. He requested that four of the white men might be sent to protect him against certain unfriendly tribes through which his road lay. This was not an uncommon request, and excited no suspicion in Escalante. The four soldiers were sent, and on their arrival two of them were murdered by the Fulsaztec. The other two made their way back to the Garrison. The commander marched at once with fifty of his men and several thousand Indian allies to take vengeance on the Cacique. A pitched battle followed. The allies fled from the redoubted Mexicans. The few Spaniards stood firm, and with the aid of the firearms and the Blessed Virgin, who was distinctly seen hovering over their ranks in the van, they made good the field against the enemy. It cost them dear, however, since seven or eight Christians were slain, and among them the gallant Escalante himself, who died of his injuries soon after his return to the fort. The Indian prisoners, captured in the battle, spoke of the whole proceeding as having taken place at the instigation of Montezuma. One of the Spaniards fell into the hands of the natives, but soon after perished of his wounds. His head was cut off and sent to the Aztec Emperor. It was uncommonly large and covered with hair, and as Montezuma gazed on the ferocious features, rendered more horrible by death, he seemed to read in them the dark lineaments of the destined destroyers of his house. He turned from it with a shudder, and commanded that it should be taken from the city, and not offered at the shrine of any of his gods. Although Cortes had received intelligence of this disaster at Cholula, he had concealed it within his own breast, or communicated it to very few only of his most trusty officers, from apprehension of the ill effect it might have on the spirits of the common soldiers. The Cavaliers whom Cortes now summoned to the council were men of the same metal with their leader. Their bold, chivalrous spirit seemed to caught danger for its own sake. If one or two, less adventurous, were startled by the proposal he made, they were soon overruled by the others, who no doubt considered that a desperate disease required as desperate a remedy. That night Cortes was heard pacing his apartment to and fro, like a man oppressed by thought, or agitated by strong emotion. He may have been ripening in his mind the daring scheme for the morrow. In the morning the soldiers heard mass as usual, and Father Almedo invoked the blessing of heaven on their hazardous enterprise. Whatever might be the cause in which he was embarked, the heart of the Spaniard was cheered with the conviction that the saints were on his side. Having asked an audience from Montezuma, which was readily granted, the general made the necessary arrangements for his enterprise. The principal part of his force was drawn up in the courtyard, and he stationed a considerable detachment in the avenues leading to the palace to check any attempt at rescue by the populace. He ordered twenty-five or thirty of the soldiers to drop in at the palace as if by accident in groups of three or four at a time, while the conference was going on with Montezuma. He selected five cavaliers in whose courage and coolness he placed most trust to bear him company, Pedro de Alvarado, Gonzalo de Sandoval, Francisco de Lugo, Velázquez de Leon, and Alonso de Avila. Brilliant names in the annals of the conquest. All were clad, as well as the common soldiers, in complete armour, the circumstance of two familiar occurrence to excite suspicion. The little party were graciously received by the emperor, who soon, with the aid of interpreters, became interested in a sportive conversation with the Spaniards, while he indulged his natural munificence by giving them presents of gold and jewels. He paid the Spanish general the particular compliment of offering him one of his daughters as his wife, an honour which the latter respectfully declined, on the ground that he was already accommodated with one in Cuba, and that his religion forbade a plurality. When Cortes perceived that a sufficient number of his soldiers were assembled, he changed his playful manner, and with a serious tone, briefly acquainted Montezuma with the treacherous proceedings in the Tierra Caliente, and the accusation of him as their author. The emperor listened to the charge with surprise, and disavowed the act which he said could only have been imputed to him by his enemies. Cortes expressed his belief in his declaration, but added that, to prove it true, it would be necessary to send for Cuau Popocca and his accomplices, that they might be examined and dealt with according to their desserts. To this Montezuma made no objection, taking from his wrist to which it was attached a precious stone, the royal signet, on which was cut the figure of the war-god. He gave it to one of his nobles, with orders to show it to the Aztec governor, and require his instant presence in the capital, together with all those who had been accessory to the murder of the Spaniards. If he resisted, the officer was empowered to call in the aid of the neighbouring towns to enforce the mandate. When the messenger had gone, Cortes assured the monarch that this prompt compliance with his request convinced him of his innocence, but it was important that his own sovereign should be equally convinced of it. Nothing would promote this so much as for Montezuma to transfer his residence to the palace occupied by the Spaniards, till on the arrival of Cuau Popocca the affair could be fully investigated. Such an act of condescension would of itself show a personal regard for the Spaniards, incompatible with the base conduct alleged against him, and would fully absolve him from all suspicion. Montezuma listened to this proposal and the flimsy reasoning with which it was covered, with looks of profound amazement. He became pale as death, but in a moment his face flushed with resentment. As with the pride of offended dignity he exclaimed, when was it ever heard that a great prince like myself voluntarily left his own palace to become a prisoner in the hands of strangers? Cortes assured him he would not go as a prisoner, he would experience nothing but respectful treatment from the Spaniards, would be surrounded by his own household, and hold intercourse with his people as usual. In short it would be but a change of residence, from one of his palaces to another, a circumstance of frequent occurrence with him. It was in vain. If I should consent to such a degradation, he answered, my subjects never would. When further pressed he offered to give up one of his sons and of his daughters to remain as hostages with the Spaniards, so that he might be spared this disgrace. Two hours passed in this fruitless discussion till a high metaled cavalier Velazquez de Leon, impatient of the long delay, and seeing that the attempt, if not the deed, must ruin them, cried out, Why do we waste words on this barbarian we have gone too far to recede now? Let us seize him, and if he resists plunge our swords into his body. The fierce tone and menacing gestures with which this was uttered alarmed the monarch, who inquired of Marina what the angry Spaniard said. The interpreter explained it in as gentle a manner as she could, beseeching him to accompany the white men to their quarters, where he would be treated with all respect and kindness, while to refuse them would but expose himself to violence, perhaps to death. Marina, doubtless, spoke to her sovereign as she thought, and no one had better opportunity of knowing the truth than herself. This last appeal shook the resolution of Montezuma. It was in vain that the unhappy prince looked around for sympathy or support. As his eyes wandered over the stern visages and iron forms of the Spaniards, he felt that his hour was indeed come, and with a voice scarcely audible from emotion, he consented to accompany the strangers, to quit the palace whither he was never more to return. Had he possessed the spirit of the first Montezuma, he would have called his guards around him, and left his life blood on the threshold sooner than had been dragged a dishonoured captive across it. But his courage sank under the circumstances. He felt he was the instrument of an irresistible fate. No sooner had the Spaniards got his consent than orders were given for the royal litter. The nobles who bore and attended it could scarcely believe their senses when they learnt their master's purpose. But pride now came to Montezuma's aid, and since he must go, he preferred that it should appear to be with his own free will. As the royal retinue escorted by the Spaniards marched through the street with downcast eyes, and dejected mean the people assembled in crowds, and a rumour ran among them that the emperor was carried off by force to the quarters of the white men. A tumult would have soon arisen but for the intervention of Montezuma himself, who called out to the people to disperse as he was visiting his friends of his own accord, thus sealing his ignominy by a declaration which deprived his subjects of the only excuse for resistance. On reaching the quarters he sent out his nobles with similar assurances to the mob and renewed orders to return to their homes. He was received with ostentatious respect by the Spaniards, and selected the suite of apartments which best pleased him. They were soon furnished with fine cotton tapestries, featherwork, and all the elegances of Indian upholstery. He was attended by such of his household as he chose, his wives and his pages, and was served with his usual pomp and luxury at his meals. He gave audience, as in his own palace, to his subjects who were admitted to his presence, few indeed at a time under the pretext of greater order and decorum. From the Spaniards themselves he met with a formal deference. No one, not even the general himself, approached him without doffing his casque, and rendering the obeisance due to his rank, nor did they ever sit in his presence without being invited by him to do so. With all this studied ceremony and show of homage there was one circumstance which too clearly proclaimed to his people that their sovereign was a prisoner. In the front of the palace a patrol of sixty men was established, and the same number in the rear. Twenty of each corps mounted guard at once, maintaining a careful watch day and night. Another body, under command of Velasquez de Leon, was stationed in the royal antechamber. Cortes punished any departure from duty or relaxation of vigilance in these sentinels with the utmost severity. He felt, as indeed every Spaniard must have felt, that the escape of the Emperor now would be their ruin. Yet the task of this unintermitting watch sorely added to their fatigues. Better this dog of a king should die, cried a soldier one day, than that we should wear out our lives in this manner. The words were uttered in the hearing of Montezuma, who gathered something of their import, and the offender was severely chastised by order of the general. Such instances of disrespect, however, were very rare. Indeed the amiable deportment of the monarch, who seemed to take pleasure in the society of his jailers, and who never allowed a favour or attention from the meanest soldier to go unrequited, inspired the Spaniards with as much attachment as they were capable of feeling for a barbarian. Things were in this posture when the arrival of Qua'ul Popalka from the coast was announced. He was accompanied by his son and fifteen Aztec chiefs. He had travelled all the way, born, as became his high rank, in a litter. On entering Montezuma's presence he threw over his dress the coarse robe of neck-end, and made the usual humiliating acts of abasance. The poor parade of courtly ceremony was the more striking when placed in contrast with the actual condition of the parties. The Aztec governor was coldly received by his master, who referred the affair, had he the power to do otherwise, to the examination of Cortes. It was doubtless conducted in a sufficiently summary manner. To the general's query, whether the casique was the subject of Montezuma, he replied, and what other sovereign could I implying that his sway was universal. He did not deny his share in the transaction, nor did he seek to shelter himself under the royal authority, till sentence of death was passed on him and his followers, when they all laid the blame of their proceedings on Montezuma. They were condemned to be burnt alive in the area before the palace. The funeral piles were made of heaps of arrows, javelins, and other weapons, drawn by the emperor's permission from the arsenals around the great Tiocalli, where they had been stored to supply means of defence in times of civic tumult or insurrection. By this politic precaution, Cortes proposed to remove unready means of annoyance in case of hostilities with the citizens. To crown the whole of these extraordinary proceedings, Cortes, while preparations for the execution were going on, entered the emperor's apartment, attended by a soldier bearing fetters in his hands. With a severe aspect he charged the monarch with being the original contriver of the violence offered to the Spaniards, as was now proved by the declaration of his own instruments. Such a crime, which merited death in a subject, could not be atoned for even by a sovereign without some punishment. So saying, he ordered the soldier to fasten the fetters on Montezuma's ankles. He coolly waited till it was done, then, turning his back on the monarch, quitted the room. Montezuma was speechless under the infliction of this last insult. He was like one struck down by a heavy blow that deprives him of all his faculties. He offered no resistance. But though he spoke not a word, low, ill-suppressed moans from time to time intimated the anguish of his spirit. His attendants, bathed in tears, offered him their consolations. They tenderly held his feet in their arms, and endeavored by inserting their shawls and mantles to relieve them from the pressure of the iron. But they could not reach the iron which had penetrated into his soul. He felt that he was no more a king. Meanwhile the execution of the dreadful doom was going forward in the courtyard. The whole Spanish force was under arms to check any interruption that might be offered by the Mexicans. But none was attempted. The populace gazed in silent wonder, regarding it as the sentence of the emperor. The manner of the execution, too, excited less surprise, from their familiarity with similar spectacles, aggravated, indeed, by additional horrors in their own diabolical sacrifices. The Aztec lord and his companions bound hand and foot to the blazing piles, submitted without a cry or a complaint to their terrible fate. Passive fortitude is the virtue of the Indian warriors, and it was the glory of the Aztec, as of the other races on the North American continent, to show how the spirit of the brave man may triumph over torture and the agonies of death. When the dismal tragedy was ended, Cortés re-entered Montezuma's apartment. Kneeling down, he unclasped his shackles with his own hand, expressing at the same time his regret that so disagreeable a duty as that of subjecting him to such a punishment had been imposed on him. This last indignity had entirely crushed the spirit of Montezuma, and the monarch, whose frown but a weak sense, would have made the nations of Anahuac tremble to their remotest borders, was now craven enough to thank his deliverer for his freedom, as for a great and unmerited boon. Not long after the Spanish general, conceiving that his royal captive was sufficiently humbled, expressed his willingness that he should return, if he inclined, to his own palace. Montezuma declined it, alleging, it is said, that his nobles had more than once impotuned him to resent his injuries by taking arms against the Spaniards, and that were he in the midst of them. It would be difficult to avoid it, or to save his capital from bloodshed and anarchy. The reason did honour to his heart, if it was the one which influenced him. It is probable that he did not care to trust his safety to those haughty and ferocious chieftains who had witnessed the degradation of their master, and must despise his pusillanimity as a thing unprecedented in an Aztec monarch. Whatever were his reasons, it is certain that he declined the offer, and the general, in a well-famed or real ecstasy, embraced him, declaring that he loved him as a brother and that every Spaniard would be zealously devoted to his interests, since he had shown himself so mindful of theirs. Which, says the shrewd old chronicler who was present, Montezuma was wise enough to know the worth of. The events recorded in this chapter are certainly some of the most extraordinary on the page of history, that a small body of men like the Spaniards should have entered the palace of a mighty prince, have seized his person in the midst of his vassals, have borne him off a captive to their quarters, that they should have put to an ignominious death before his face his high officers, for executing probably his own commands, and have crowned the whole by putting the monarch in irons like a common malefactor, that this should have been done not to a driveling doted in the decay of his fortunes, but to a proud monarch in the plenitude of his power, in the very heart of his capital surrounded by thousands and tens of thousands who trembled as his nod, and would have poured out their blood like water in his defense, that all this should have been done by a mere handful of adventurers, is a thing too extravagant altogether too improbable for the pages of romance. It is, nevertheless, literally true. And of Book 4, Chapter 3. Book 4, Chapter 4 of The History of the Conquest of Mexico. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For further information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. History of the Conquest of Mexico by William H. Prescott. Book 4, Chapter 4. Montezuma's Deportment. His life in the Spanish Quarters. Meditated Insurrection. Lord of Tethcucco, Seized. Further Measures of Cortes. The settlement of La Villarica de Veracruz was of the last importance to the Spaniards. It was the port by which they were to communicate with Spain. The strong post on which they were to retreat in case of disaster, and which was to bridle their enemies, and give security to their allies, the Poir d'Apui for all their operations in the country. It was of great moment, therefore, that the care of it should be entrusted to proper hands. A cavalier named Alonso de Grado had been sent by Cortes to take the place made vacant by the death of Escalante. He was a person of greater repute in civil than military matters, and would be more likely it was thought to maintain peaceful relations with the natives than a person of more belligerent spirit. Cortes made, what was rare with him, a bad choice. He soon received such accounts of troubles in the settlement from the exactions and negligence of the new governor that he resolved to supersede him. He now gave the command to Gonzalo de Sandoval, a young cavalier who had displayed through the whole campaign singular intrepidity, united with sagacity and discretion, while the good humour with which he bore every privation and his affable manners made him a favourite with all, privates as well as officers. Sandoval accordingly left the camp for the coast. Cortes did not mistake his man a second time. Notwithstanding the actual control exercised by the Spaniards through their royal captive, Cortes felt some uneasiness when he reflected that it was in the power of the Indians at any time to cut off his communications with the surrounding country and hold him a prisoner in the capital. He proposed therefore to build two vessels of sufficient size to transport his forces across the lake, and thus to render himself independent of the causeways. Montezuma was pleased with the idea of seeing those wonderful water houses, of which he had heard so much and readily gave permission to have the timber in the royal forests failed for the purpose. The work was placed under the direction of Martin Lopez, an experienced shipbuilder. Orders were also given to Sandoval to send up from the coast a supply of cordage, sails, iron and other necessary materials, which had been judiciously saved on the destruction of the fleet. The Aztec emperor meanwhile was passing his days in the Spanish quarters in no very different manner from what he had been accustomed to in his own palace. His keepers were too well aware of the value of their prize, not to do everything which could make his captivity comfortable and disguise it from himself. But the chain will gall, though wreathed with roses. After Montezuma's breakfast, which was a light meal of fruits or vegetables, Cortes or some of his officers usually waited on him to learn if he had any commands for them. He then devoted some time to business. He gave audience to those of his subjects who had petitions to prefer or suits to settle. The statement of the party was drawn up on the hieroglyphic scrolls which were submitted to a number of councillors, or judges, who assisted him with their advice on these occasions. Envoy's from foreign states or his own remote provinces and cities were also admitted, and the Spaniards were careful that the same precise and punctilious etiquette should be maintained towards the royal puppet as when in the plenitude of his authority. After the business was dispatched, Montezuma often amused himself with seeing the Castilian troops go through their military exercises. He too had been a soldier, and in his prouder days led armies in the field. It was very natural he should take an interest in the novel display of European tactics and discipline. At other times he would challenge Cortes or his officers to play at some of the national games. A favourite one was called Totolocke, played with golden balls aimed at a target or mark of the same metal. Montezuma usually state something of value, precious stones, or ingots of gold. He lost with good humour. Indeed it was of little consequence whether he won or lost since he generally gave away his winnings to his attendants. He had in truth a most munificent spirit. His enemies accused him of avarice, but if he were avaricious it could have been only that he might have the more to give away. Each of the Spaniards had several Mexicans, male and female, who attended to his cooking and various other personal offices. Cortes, considering that the maintenance of this host of menials was a heavy tax on the royal exchequer, ordered them to be dismissed, accepting one to be retained for each soldier. Montezuma, on learning this, pleasantly remonstrated with the general on his careful economy as unbecoming of royal establishment, and, counter-marrying the order, caused additional accommodations to be provided for the attendants, and their pay to be doubled. On another occasion a soldier perloined some trinkets of gold from the treasure kept in the chamber, which, since Montezuma's arrival in the Spanish quarters, had been reopened. Cortes would have punished the man for the theft, but the emperor, interfering, said to him, Your countrymen are welcome to the gold and other articles, if you will but spare those belonging to the gods. Some of the soldiers, making the most of his permission, carried off several hundred loads of fine cotton to their quarters. When this was represented to Montezuma, he only replied, What I have once given, I never take back again. While thus indifferent to his treasures, he was keenly sensitive to personal slight or insult. When a common soldier once spoke to him angrily, the tears came into the monarch's eyes, as it made him feel the true character of his impotent condition. Cortes, unbecoming acquainted with it, was so much incensed that he ordered the soldier to be hanged, but, on Montezuma's intercession, commuted this severe sentence for a flogging. The general was not willing that anyone but himself should treat his royal captive with indignity. Montezuma was desired to procure a further mitigation of the punishment, but he refused, saying that if a similar insult had been offered by any one of his subjects to Malinche, he would have resented it in like manner. Such instances of disrespect were very rare. Montezuma's amiable and inoffensive manners, together with his liberality, the most popular of virtues with the vulgar, made him generally beloved by the Spaniards. The arrogance for which he had been so distinguished in his prosperous days deserted him in his fallen fortunes. His character and captivity seems to have undergone something of that change which takes place in the wild animals of the forest when caged within the walls of the menagerie. The Indian monarch knew the name of every man in the army and was careful to discriminate his proper rank. For some he showed a strong partiality. He obtained from the general a favorite page, named Ortegilla, who, being in constant attendance on his person, soon learned enough of the Mexican language to be of use to his countrymen. Montezuma took great pleasure also in the society of Velázquez de León, the captain of his guard, and Pedro de Alvarado, tonatio, or the sun, as he was called by the Aztecs, from his yellow hair and sunny countenance. The sunshine, as events afterwards showed, could sometimes be the prelude to a terrible tempest. Notwithstanding the care taken to cheat him of the tedium of captivity, the royal prisoner cast a wistful glance now and then beyond the walls of his residence to the ancient haunts of business or pleasure. He intimated a desire to offer up his devotions at the great temple where he was once so constant in his worship. The suggestions startled Cortez. It was too reasonable, however, for him to object to it without wholly discarding the appearance which he was desirous to maintain. But he secured Montezuma's return by sending an escort with him of a hundred and fifty soldiers under the same resolute cavaliers who had aided in his seizure. He told him also that, in case of any attempt to escape, his life would instantly pay the forfeit. Thus guarded the Indian prince visited the Teocali where he was received with the usual state, and after performing his devotions he returned again to his quarters. It may well be believed that the Spaniards did not neglect the opportunity afforded by his residence with them of instilling into him some notions of the Christian doctrine. Fathers D'Athe and Olmedo exhausted all their battery of logic and persuasion to shake his faith in his idols, but in vain. He indeed paid a most edifying attention which gave promise of better things. But the conferences always closed with the declaration that the God of the Christians was good, but the gods of his own country were the true gods for him. It is said, however, they extorted a promise from him that he would take part in no more human sacrifices. Yet such sacrifices were of daily occurrence in the great temples of the capital, and the people were too blindly attached to their bloody abominations for the Spaniards to deem it safe for the present at least, openly to interfere. Montezuma showed also an inclination to engage in the pleasures of the chase of which he once was immoderately fond. He had large forests reserved for the purpose on the other side of the lake. As the Spanish brigantines were now completed, Cortes proposed to transport him and his suite across the water in them. They were of a good size, strongly built. The largest was mounted with four falconettes or small guns. It was protected by a gaily coloured awning stretching over the deck, and the royal ensign of Castile floated proudly from the mast. On board of this vessel, Montezuma, delighted with the opportunity of witnessing the nautical skill of the white men, embarked with a train of Aztec nobles and a numerous guard of Spaniards. A fresh breeze played on the waters, and the vessel soon left behind it the swarms of light pierogues which darkened their surface. She seemed like a thing of life in the eyes of the astonished natives, who saw her as if disdaining human agency, sweeping by with snowy pinions as if on the wings of the wind, while the thunders from her sides, now for the first time breaking on the silence of this inland sea, showed that the beautiful phantom was clothed in terror. The royal chase was well stocked with game, some of which the emperor shot with arrows and others were driven by the numerous attendants into nets. In these woodland exercises, while he ranged over his wild domain, Montezuma seemed to enjoy again the sweets of liberty. It was but the shadow of liberty, however, as in his quarters, at home, he enjoyed but the shadow of royalty. At home or abroad the eye of the Spaniard was always upon him. But while he resigned himself without a struggle to his inglorious fate, there were others who looked on it with very different emotions. Among them was his nephew, Kakama, Lord of Tethcoco, a young man not more than twenty-five years of age, but who enjoyed great consideration from his high personal qualities, especially his intrepidity of character. He was the same prince who had been sent by Montezuma to welcome the Spaniards on their first entrance into the valley, and when the question of their reception was first debated in the council, he had advised to admit them honorably as ambassadors of a foreign prince, and if they should prove different from what they pretended, it would be time enough then to take up arms against them. That time, he thought, had now come. In a former part of this work, the reader has been made acquainted with the ancient history of the Akoluan or Tethcocan monarchy, once the proud rival of the Aztec in power, and greatly its superior in civilisation. Under its last sovereign, Nezahualpili, its territory is said to have been grievously clipped by the insidious practices of Montezuma, who fermented dissensions and insubordination among his subjects. On the death of the Tethcocan prince, the succession was contested, and a bloody war ensued between his eldest son, Kakama, and an ambitious younger brother, Ishtlil Shochitl. This was followed by a partition of the kingdom in which the latter chieftain held the mountain districts north of the capital, leaving the residue to Kakama. Though shorn of a large part of his hereditary domain, the city was itself so important that the lord of Tethcocan still held a high rank among the petty princes of the valley. His capital, at the time of the conquest, contained, according to Cortes, 150,000 inhabitants. It was embellished with noble buildings, rivalling those of Mexico itself. The young Tethcocan chief beheld with indignation and no slight contempt the abject condition of his uncle. He endeavoured to rouse him to manly exertion, but in vain. He then set about forming a league with several of the neighbouring casiques to rescue his kinsmen, and to break the detested yoke of the strangers. He called on the lord of Ishtlil Palapan, Montezuma's brother, the lord of Placopan, and some others of most authority, all of whom entered heartily into his views. He then urged the Aztec nobles to join them, but they expressed an unwillingness to take any step not first sanctioned by the emperor. They entertained undoubtedly a profound reverence for their master, but it seems probable that jealousy of the personal views of Kakama had its influence on their determination. Whatever were their motives, it is certain that by this refusal they relinquished the best opportunity ever presented for retrieving their sovereign's independence and their own. These intrigues could not be conducted so secretly as not to reach the ears of Cortes, who, with his characteristic promptness, would have marched at once on Tethguco, and trodden out the spark of rebellion, before it had time to burst into a flame. But from this he was dissuaded by Montezuma, who represented that Kakama was a man of resolution backed by a powerful force, and not to be put down without a desperate struggle. He consented, therefore, to negotiate, and sent a message of amicable expostulation to the Casique. He received a haughty answer in return. Cortes rejoined in a more menacing tone, asserting the supremacy of his own sovereign, the Emperor of Castile. To this Kakama replied, he acknowledged no such authority. He knew nothing of the Spanish sovereign nor his people, nor did he wish to know anything of them. Montezuma was not more successful in his application to Kakama to come to Mexico, and allow him to mediate his differences with the Spaniards, with whom he assured the Prince he was residing as a friend. But the young Lord of Tethguco was not to be so duped. He understood the position of his uncle, and replied, that when he did visit his capital it would be to rescue it, as well as the Emperor himself and their common gods from bondage. He should come not with his hand in his bosom, but on his sword, to drive out the detested strangers who had brought such dishonour on their country. Cortes incensed that this tone of defiance would again have put himself in motion to punish it, but Montezuma interposed with his more politic arts. He had several of the Tethgucan nobles, he said, in his pay, and it would be easy through their means to secure Kakama's person, and thus break up the Confederacy at once without bloodshed. The maintaining of court of stipendaries in the courts of neighbouring princes was a refinement which showed that the Western barbarian understood the science of political intrigue, as well as some of his royal brethren on the other side of the water. By the contrivance of these faithless nobles, Kakama was induced to hold a conference relative to the proposed invasion in a villa which overhung the Tethgucan lake, not far from his capital. Like most of the principal edifices, it was raised so as to admit the entrance of boats beneath it. In the midst of the conference Kakama was seized by the conspirators, hurried on board a bark in readiness for the purpose, and transported to Mexico. When brought into Montezuma's presence, the high-spirited chief abated nothing of his proud and lofty bearing. He taxed his uncle with his perfidy, and a pusillanimity so unworthy of his former character and of the royal house from which he was descended. By the emperor, he was referred to Cortez, who, holding royalty but cheap in an Indian prince, put him in fetters. There was at this time in Mexico a brother of Kakama, a stripling much younger than himself. At the instigation of Cortez, Montezuma, pretending that his nephew had forfeited the sovereignty by his late rebellion, declared him to be deposed, and appointed Quitsca in his place. The Aztec sovereigns had always been allowed a paramount authority in questions relating to the succession, but this was a most unwarrantable exercise of it. The Tethgucans acquiesced, however, with a ready ductility which showed their allegiance hung but lightly on them, or what is more probable, that they were greatly in awe of the Spaniards, and the new prince was welcomed with acclamations to his capital. Cortez still wanted to get into his hands the other chiefs who had entered into the Confederacy with Kakama. This was no difficult matter. Montezuma's authority was absolute, everywhere but in his own palace. By his command the Caciques were seized, each in his own city, and brought in chains to Mexico, where Cortez placed them in strict confinement with their leader. He had now triumphed over all his enemies. He had set his foot on the necks of princes, and the great chief of the Aztec empire was but a convenient tool in his hands for accomplishing his purposes. His first use of this power was to ascertain the actual resources of the monarchy. He sent several parties of Spaniards, guided by the natives, to explore the regions where gold was obtained. It was gleaned mostly from the beds of rivers, several hundred miles from the capital. His next object was to learn if there existed any good natural harbour for shipping on the Atlantic coast, as the road of Vera Cruz left no protection against the tempests that at certain seasons swept over these seas. Montezuma showed him a chart on which the shores of the Mexican Gulf were laid down with tolerable accuracy. Cortez, after carefully inspecting it, sent a commission consisting of ten Spaniards, several of them pilots, and some Aztecs, who descended to Vera Cruz, and made a careful survey of the coast for nearly 60 leagues south of that settlement, as far as the great river Quazzalqualco, which seemed to offer the best, indeed the only, accommodations for a safe and suitable harbour. A spot was selected as the site of a fortified post, and the general sent a detachment of 150 men under Velázquez de Leon to plant a colony there. He also obtained a grant of an extensive tract of land in the fruitful province of Oaxaca, where he proposed to lay out a plantation for the crown. He stocked it with the different kinds of domesticated animals peculiar to the country, and with such indigenous grains and plants, as would afford the best articles for export. He soon had the estate under such cultivation that he assured his master, the Emperor Charles V, it was worth twenty thousand ounces of gold. History of the Conquest of Mexico by William H. Prescott, Book 4, Chapter 5 Montezuma swears allegiance to Spain, royal treasures, their division, Christian worship in the Teocali, discontents of the Aztecs. Cortez now felt his authority sufficiently assured to demand from Montezuma a formal recognition of the supremacy of the Spanish Emperor. The Indian monarch had intimated his willingness to acquiesce in this on their very first interview. He did not object, therefore, to call together his principal casiques for the purpose. When they were assembled, he made them in a dress briefly stating the object of the meeting. They were all acquainted, he said, with the ancient tradition that the great being who had once ruled over the land had declared on his departure that he should return at some future time and resume his sway. That time had now arrived. The white men had come from the quarter where the sun rises beyond the ocean to which the good deity had withdrawn. They were sent by their master to reclaim the obedience of his ancient subjects. For himself he was ready to acknowledge his authority. You have been faithful vassals of mine, continued Montezuma, during the many years that I have sat on the throne of my fathers. I now expect that you will show me this last act of obedience by acknowledging the great king beyond the waters to be your lord also, and that you will pay him tribute in the same manner as you have hitherto done to me. As he concluded his voice was stifled by his emotion, and the tears fell fast down his cheeks. His nobles, many of whom coming from a distance had not kept pace with the changes which had been going on in the capital, were filled with astonishment as they listened to his words and beheld the voluntary abasement of their master, whom they had hitherto reverenced as the omnipotent lord of Anahuac. They were the most affected, therefore, by the sight of his distress. His will, they told him, had always been their law. It should be now, and, if he thought the sovereign of the strangers was the ancient lord of their country, they were willing to acknowledge him as such still. The oaths of allegiance were then administered with all due solemnity, attested by the Spaniards present, and a full record of the proceedings was drawn up by the royal notary to be sent to Spain. There was something deeply touching in the ceremony by which an independent and absolute monarch, in obedience less to the dictates of fear than of conscience, thus relinquished his hereditary rights in favor of an unknown and mysterious power. It even moved those hard men, who were thus unscrupulously availing themselves of the confiding ignorance of the natives, and though it was in the regular way of their own business, says an old chronicler, there was not a Spaniard who could look on the spectacle with a dry eye. The rumor of these strange proceedings was soon circulated through the capital and the country. Men read in them the finger of providence. The ancient tradition of Quetzalcoatl was familiar to all, and where it had slept scarcely noticed in the memory, it was now revived with many exaggerated circumstances. It was said to be part of the tradition that the royal line of the Aztecs was to end with Montezuma, and his name, the literal signification of which is sad or angry lord, was construed into an omen of his evil destiny. Having thus secured this great feudatory to the crown of Castile, Cortes suggested that it would be well for the Aztec chiefs to send his sovereign such a gratuity as would conciliate his good will by convincing him of the loyalty of his new vassals. Montezuma consented that his collector should visit the principal cities and provinces, attended by a number of Spaniards, to receive the customary tributes in the name of the Castilian sovereign. In a few weeks most of them returned, bringing back large quantities of gold and silver plate, rich stuffs, and the various commodities in which the taxes were usually paid. To this store Montezuma added, on his own account, the treasure of Axiocatl, previously noticed some part of which had been already given to the Spaniards. It was the fruit of long and careful hoarding, of extortion it may be, by a prince who little dreamed of its final destination. When brought into the quarters the gold alone was sufficient to make three great heaps. It consisted partly of native grains, part had been melted into bars, but the greatest portion was in utensils and various kinds of ornaments and curious toys, together with imitations of birds, insects, or flowers executed with uncommon truth and delicacy. There were also quantities of collars, bracelets, wands, fans, and other trinkets in which the gold and featherwork were richly powdered with pearls and precious stones. Many of the articles were even more admirable for the workmanship than for the value of the materials. Such indeed if we may take the report of Cortez to one who would himself have soon an opportunity to judge of its veracity and whom it would not be safe to trifle with, as no monarch in Europe could boast in his dominions. Magnificent as it was, Montezuma expressed his regret that the treasure was no larger, but he had diminished it, he said, by his former gifts to the white men. Take it, he added, Malinche, and let it be recorded in your annals that Montezuma sent his present to your master. The Spaniards gazed with greedy eyes on the display of riches, now their own, which far exceeded and hitherto seen in the New World and felt nothing short of the El Dorado which their glowing imaginations had depicted. It may be that they felt somewhat rebuked by the contrast which their own avarice presented to the princely munificence of the barbarian chief. At least they seemed to testify their sense of his superiority by the respectful homage which they rendered him, as they poured forth the fullness of their gratitude. They were not so scrupulous, however, as to manifest any delicacy in appropriating to themselves the Donative, a small part of which was to find its way into the royal coffers. They clamored loudly for an immediate division of the spoil, which the general would have postponed till the tributes from the remote provinces had been gathered in. The goldsmiths of Vascapholzalko were sent for to take in pieces the larger and coarser ornaments, leaving untouched those of more delicate workmanship. Three days were consumed in this labour, when the heaps of gold were cast into ingots and stamped with the royal arms. Some difficulty occurred in the division of the treasure, from the want of weights which, strange as it appears, considering their advancement in the arts, were, as already observed, unknown to the Aztecs. The deficiency was soon supplied by the Spaniards, however, with scales and weights of their own manufacture. Probably not the most exact. With the aid of these they ascertained the value of the royal fifth to be thirty-two thousand and four hundred pesos de oro. Diaz swells it to nearly four times that amount. But their desire of securing the emperor's favour makes it improbable that the Spaniards should have befrauded the exchequer of any part of its due. While, as Cortez was responsible for the sum admitted in his letter, he would be still less likely to overstate it. His estimate may be received as the true one. The whole amounted, therefore, to one hundred and sixty-two thousand pesos de oro, independently of the fine ornaments and jewelry, the value of which Cortez computes at five hundred thousand ducats more. There were, besides, five hundred marks of silver chiefly in plate, drinking cups and other articles of luxury. The inconsiderable quantity of the silver, as compared with the gold, forms a singular contrast to the relative proportions of the two metals since the occupation of the country by the Europeans. The whole amount of the treasure reduced to our own currency and making allowance for the change in the value of gold since the beginning of the sixteenth century was about six million three hundred thousand dollars or one million four hundred and seventeen thousand pounds sterling. A sum large enough to show the incorrectness of the popular notion that little or no wealth was found in Mexico. It was indeed small in comparison with that obtained by the conquerors in Peru, but a few European monarchs of that day could boast a larger treasure in their coffers. Many of them, indeed, could boast little or nothing in their coffers. Maximilian of Germany and the more prudent Ferdinand of Spain left scarcely enough to defray their funeral expenses. The division of the spoil was a work of some difficulty. A perfectly equal division of it among the conquerors would have given them more than three thousand pounds sterling a piece, a magnificent booty. But one fifth was to be deducted for the crown. An equal portion was reserved for the general, pursuant to the tenor of his commission. A large sum was then allowed to indemnify him and the governor of Cuba for the charges of the expedition and the loss of the fleet. The garrison of Veracruz was also to be provided for. Ample compensation was made to the principal cavaliers, the cavalry, aqua-basirs, and crossbowmen, each received double pay, so that when the turn of the common soldiers came, they remained not more than a hundred pesos de oro for each. A sum so insignificant in comparison with their expectations that several refused to accept it. Loud murmurs now rose among the men. Was it for this, they said, that we left our homes and families, periled our lives, submitted to fatigue and famine, and all for so contemptible a pittance? Better to have stayed in Cuba and contented ourselves with the gains of a safe and easy traffic, when we gave up our share of the gold at Veracruz, it was on the assurance that we should be amply requited in Mexico. We have indeed found the riches we expected, but no sooner seen than they are snatched from us by the very men who pledged us their faith. The malcontents even went so far as to accuse their leaders of appropriating to themselves several of the richest ornaments, before the partition had been made, an accusation that received some countenance from a dispute which arose between Mexia, the treasure for the crown, and Velazquez de Leon, a relation of the governor, and a favorite of Cortez. The treasurer accused this cavalier of perloining certain pieces of plate before they were submitted to the royal stamp. From words the parties came to blows. They were good swordsmen, several wounds were given on both sides, and the affair might have ended fatally, but for the interference of Cortez who placed both under arrest. He then used all his authority in insinuating eloquence to calm the passions of his men. It was a delicate crisis. He was sorry, he said, to see them so unmindful of the duty of loyal soldiers and cavaliers of the cross as to brawl like common banditie over their booty. The division he assured them had been made on perfectly fair and equitable principles. As to his own share it was no more than was warranted by his commission, yet if they thought it too much he was willing to forego his just claims and divide with the poorest soldier. Gold, however welcome, was not the chief object of his ambition. If it were theirs they should still reflect that the present treasure was little in comparison with what awaited them hereafter, for had they not the whole country and its mines at their disposal? It was only necessary that they should not give an opening to the enemy by their discord to circumvent and to crush them. With these honeyed words of which he had good store for all fitting occasions, says an old soldier for whose benefit in part they were intended, he succeeded in calming the storm for the present, while in private he took more effectual means, by presence judiciously administered, to mitigate the discontents of the importunate and refractory. And although there were a few of more tenacious temper who treasured this in their memories against a future day, the troops soon returned to their usual subordination. This was one of those critical conjunctures which taxed all the address and personal authority of Cortez. He never shrunk from them, but on such occasions was true to himself. At Vera Cruz he had persuaded his followers to give up what was but the earnest of future gains. Here he persuaded them to relinquish these gains themselves. It was snatching the prey from the very jaws of the lion. Why did he not turn and rend them? To many of the soldiers, indeed, it mattered little whether their share of the booty were more or less. Gaming is a deep-rooted passion in the Spaniard, and the sudden acquisition of riches furnished both the means and the motive for its indulgence. Cards were easily made out of the old parchment drum-heads, and in a few days most of the prize money, obtained with so much toil and suffering, had changed hands, and many of the improvident soldiers closed the campaign as poor as they had commenced it. Others, it is true, more prudent, followed the example of their officers, who, with the aid of the royal jewelers, converted their gold into chains, services of plate, and other portable articles of ornament or use. Cortez seemed now to have accomplished the great objects of the expedition. The Indian monarch had declared himself the feuditory of the Spanish. His authority, his revenues, were at the disposal of the general. The conquest of Mexico seemed to be achieved, and that without a blow. But it was far from being achieved. One important step yet remained to be taken, towards which the Spaniards had hitherto made little progress, the conversion of the natives. With all the exertions of Father Olmeido, backed by the polemic talents of the general, neither Montezuma nor his subjects showed any disposition to abjure the faith of their fathers. The bloody exercises of their religion, on the contrary, were celebrated with all the usual circumstance and pomp of sacrifice before the eyes of the Spaniards. Unable further to endure these abominations, Cortez, attended by several of his cavaliers, waited on Montezuma. He told the emperor that the Christians could no longer consent to have the services of their religion shut up within the narrow walls of the garrison. They wished to spread its light far abroad, and to open to the people a full participation in the blessings of Christianity. For this purpose they requested that the great tail-colly should be delivered up, as a fit place where their worship might be conducted in the presence of the whole city. Montezuma listened to the proposal with visible consternation. Amidst all his troubles he had leaned for support on his own faith, and indeed it was in obedience to it that he had shown such deference to the Spaniards as the mysterious messenger predicted by the oracles. Why, said he, Malinche, why will you urge matters to an extremity that must surely bring down the vengeance of our gods and stir up an insurrection among my people, who will never endure this profanation of their temples. Cortez, seeing how greatly he was moved, made a sign to his officers to withdraw. When left alone with the interpreters, he told the Emperor that he would use his influence to moderate the zeal of his followers, and persuade them to be contented with one of the sanctuaries of the tail-colly. If that were not granted they should be obliged to take it by force, and to roll down the images of his false deities in the face of the city. We fear not for our lives, he added, for though our numbers are few, the arm of the true God is over us. Montezuma, much agitated, told him that he would confer with the priests. The result of the conference was favourable to the Spaniards, who were allowed to occupy one of the sanctuaries as a place of worship. The tidings spread great joy throughout the camp. They might now go forth in open day and publish their religion to the assembled capital. No time was lost in availing themselves of the permission. The sanctuary was cleansed of its disgusting impurities, an altar was raised surmounted by a crucifix and the image of the Virgin. Instead of the golden jewels which blazed on the neighbouring pagan shrine, its walls were decorated with fresh garlands of flowers, and an old soldier was stationed to watch over the chapel and guard it from intrusion. When these arrangements were completed the whole army moved in solemn procession up the winding ascent of the pyramid. Entering the sanctuary and clustering around its portals they listened reverently to the service of the mass as it was performed by the Fathers Olmeido and Diaz. And as the beautiful Tadeum rose towards heaven Cortes and his soldiers kneeling on the ground with tears streaming from their eyes poured forth their gratitude to the Almighty for this glorious triumph of the cross. It was a striking spectacle that of these rude warriors lifting up their orizins on the summit of this mountain temple in the very capital of Healandon on the spot especially dedicated to its unhallowed mysteries. Side by side the Spaniard and the Aztec knelt down in prayer and the Christian hymn mingled its sweet tones of love and mercy with a wild chant raised by the Indian priest in honour of the war god of Anuak. It was an unnatural union and could not long abide. A nation will endure any outrage sooner than that on its religion. This is an outrage both on its principles and its prejudices. On the ideas instilled into it from childhood which have strengthened with its growth until they become a part of its nature which have to do with its highest interests here and with the dread hereafter. Any violence to the religious sentiment touches all alike. The old and the young, the rich and the poor, the noble and the plebeian. Above all it touches the priests whose personal consideration rests on that of their religion and who in a semi-similised state of society usually hold an unbounded authority. Thus it was with the Brahmins of India, the Magi of Persia, the Roman Catholic clergy in the Dark Ages, the priests of ancient Egypt and Mexico. The people had borne with patience all the injuries and affronts hitherto put on them by the Spaniards. They had seen their sovereign dragged as a captive from his own palace, his ministers butchered before his eyes, his treasures seized and appropriated, himself in a manner deposed from his royal supremacy. All this they had seen without a struggle to prevent it, but the profanation of their temples touched a deeper feeling of which the priesthood were not slow to take advantage. The first intimation of this change of feeling was gathered from Montezuma himself. Instead of his usual cheerfulness he appeared grave and abstracted and instead of seeking as he was want the society of the Spaniards seemed rather to shun it. It was noticed too that conferences were more frequent between him and the nobles and especially the priests. His little page, or tequila, who had now picked up a tolerable acquaintance with the Aztec, contrary to Montezuma's usual practice, was not allowed to attend him at these meetings. These circumstances could not fail to awaken more uncomfortable apprehensions in the Spaniards. Not many days elapsed, however, before Cortez received an invitation, or rather a summons, from the Emperor to attend him in his apartment. The General went with some feelings of anxiety and distrust, taking with him Oled, Captain of the Guard, and two or three other trusty Cavaliers. Montezuma received them with cold civility, and turned to the General, told him that all his predictions had come to pass. The gods of his country had been offended by the violation of their temples. They had threatened the priests that they would forsake the city if the sacrilegious strangers were not driven from it, or rather sacrificed on the altars an expiation of their crimes. The monarch assured the Christians it was from regard to their safety that he communicated this, and if you have any regard for it yourselves, he concluded, you will leave the country without delay. I have only to raise my finger, and every Aztec in the land will rise in arms against you. There was no reason to doubt his sincerity. For Montezuma, whatever evils had been brought on him by the white men, held them in reverence as a race more highly gifted than his own, while for several, as we have seen, he had conceived an attachment, flowing, no doubt, from their personal attentions and deference to himself. Cortez was too much master of his feelings to show how far he was startled by this intelligence. He replied with admirable coolness that he should regret much to leave the capital so precipitately when he had no vessels to take him from the country. If it were not for this, there could be no obstacle to his leaving it at once. He should also regret another step to which he should be driven if he quitted it under their circumstances that of taking the emperor along with him. Montezuma was evidently troubled by this last suggestion. He inquired how long it would take to build the vessels and finally consented to send a sufficient number of workmen to the coast to act under the orders of the Spaniards. Meanwhile he would use his authority to restrain the impatience of the people under the assurance that the white men would leave the land when the means for it were provided. He kept his word. A large body of Aztec artisans left the capital with the most experienced Castilian shipbuilders and, descending to Veracruz, began at once to fell the timber and build a sufficient number of ships to transport the Spaniards back to their own country. The work went forward with apparent alacrity, but those who had the direction of it, it is said, received private instructions from the general to interpose as many delays as possible in hopes of receiving in the meantime such reinforcements from Europe as would enable him to maintain his ground. The whole aspect of things was now changed in the Castilian quarters. Instead of the security and repose in which the troops had of late indulged, they felt a gloomy apprehension of danger, not the less oppressive to the spirits that it was scarcely visible to the eye, like the faint speck just described above the horizon by the voyager in the tropics to the common gaze seeming only a summer cloud, but which to the experienced mariner boasts the coming of the hurricane. Every precaution that Prudence could devise was taken to meet it. The soldier, as he threw himself on his mats for repose, kept on his armor. He ate, drank, slept, with his weapons by his side. His horse stood ready comparison day and night with a bridal hanging at the saddle-bow. The guns were carefully planted so as to command the great avenues, the sentinels were doubled, and every man of whatever rank took his turn in mounting guard. The garrison was in a state of siege. Such was the uncomfortable position of the army, when in the beginning of May 1520, six months after their arrival in the capital, tidings came from the coast, which gave greater alarm to Cortez than even the menaced insurrection of the Aztecs. CHAPTER VI FATE OF CORTEZ EMICERES PRECEDINGS IN THE CASTILLION COURT PREPARATIONS OF BELASQUES NARBAYES LANDS IN MEXICO POLITIC CONDUCT OF CORTEZ HE LEAVES THE CAPITAL Before explaining the nature of the tidings alluded to in the preceding chapter, it will be necessary to cast a glance over some of the transactions of an earlier period. The vessel which, as the reader may remember, bore the envoys Puerto Carrero and Montego, with the dispatches from Veracruz, after touching, contrary to orders, at the northern coast of Cuba, and spreading the news of the late discoveries, held on its way uninterrupted towards Spain, and early in October 1519 reached the little port of San Lucar. Great was the sensation caused by her arrival and the tidings which she brought, a sensation scarcely inferior to that created by the original discovery of Columbus. For now, for the first time, all the magnificent anticipations formed of the new world seemed destined to be realized. Unfortunately, there was a person in Seville, at this time, named Benito Martín, Chaplain of Belasques, the Governor of Cuba. No sooner did this man learn of the rival of the envoys and the particulars of their story than he lodged a complaint with the Casa de Contratación, the Royal India House, charging those on board the vessel with mutiny and rebellion against the authorities of Cuba, as well with treason to the crown. In consequence of his representations, the ship was taken possession of by the public officers, and those on board were prohibited from moving their own effects or anything else from her. The envoys were not even allowed the funds necessary for the expenses of the voyage, nor a considerable sum remitted by Cortés to his father, Don Martín. In this embarrassment they had no alternative but to present themselves as speedily as possible before the Emperor, deliver the letters with which they had been charged by the colony and seek redress for their own grievances. They first sought out Martín Cortés, residing at Medellín, and with him made the best of their way to court. Charles V. was then on his first visit to Spain after his accession. It was not a long one, long enough, however, to disgust his subjects and, in a great degree, to alienate their affections. He had lately received intelligence of his election to the imperial crown of Germany. From that hour his eyes were turned to that quarter. His stay in the peninsula was prolonged only that he might raise supplies for appearing with splendor on the great theatre of Europe. Every act showed, too plainly, that the diadem of his ancestors was held blightly in comparison with the imperial bobble which neither his countrymen nor his own posterity could have the slightest interest. The interest was wholly personal. Contrary to established usage, he had summoned the Castilian Cortés to meet at Compostella, a remote town in the north which presented no other advantage than that of being near his place of embarkation. On his way thither he stopped some time at Torresillas, the residence of his unhappy mother, Joanna the Mad. It was here that the envoys from Veracruz presented themselves before him in March 1520. At nearly the same time the treasures brought over by them reached the court where they excited unbounded admiration. Hitherto the returns from the new world had been chiefly in vegetable products which, if the surest, are also the slowest sources of wealth. Of gold they had as yet seen but little, and that in its natural state, or wrought into the rudest trinkets. The courtiers gazed with astonishment on the large masses of the precious metal and the delicate manufacture of the various articles, especially of the richly tinted featherwork. And as they listened to the accounts written and oral of the great Aztec Empire they felt assured that the Castilian ships had, at length, reached the golden indies which Hitherto had seemed to recede before them. In this favorable mood there is little doubt the monarch would have granted the petition of the envoys and confirmed the irregular proceedings of the conquerors, but for the opposition of a person who held the highest office in the Indian department. This was Juan Rodriguez de Fonseca, formerly Dean of Seville, now Bishop of Burgos. He was a man of noble family and had been entrusted with the direction of the colonial concerns on the discovery of the New World. On the establishment of the Royal Council of the Indies by Ferdinand the Catholic he had been made its president and had occupied that post ever since. His long continuance in a position of great importance and difficulty is evidence of capacity for business. It was no uncommon thing in that age to find ecclesiastics in high civil and even military employments. Fonseca appears to have been an active, efficient person, better suited to a secular than to a religious vocation. He had indeed little that was religious in his temper, quick to take offense and slow to forgive. His resentments seemed to have been nourished and perpetuated like a part of his own nature. Unfortunately his peculiar position enabled him to display them towards some of the most illustrious men of his time. From peak at some real or fancied slight from Columbus he had constantly thwarted the plans of the great navigator. He had shown the same unfriendly feelings towards the Admiral's son Diego, the heir of his honors, and he now from this time forward showed a similar spirit toward the conqueror of Mexico. The immediate cause of this was his own personal relations with Belasquez to whom a near relative was betrothed. Through this prelates representations, Charles, instead of a favorable answer to the envoys, postponed his decision till he should arrive at Coruna, the place of embarkation. But here he was much pressed by the troubles which his impolitic conduct had raised as well as by preparations for his voyage. The transaction of the colonial business, which long postponed had greatly accumulated on his hands, was reserved for the last week in Spain. But the affairs of the young Admiral consumed so large a portion of this that he had no time to give to those of Cortés, except indeed to instruct the board at Seville to remit to the envoys so much of their funds as was required to defray the charges of the voyage. On the 16th of May, 1520, the impatient monarch bade adieu to his distracted kingdom without one attempt to settle the dispute between his belligerent vassals in the New World, and without an effort to promote the magnificent enterprise which was to secure to him the possession of an empire. What a contrast to the policy of his illustrious predecessors, Ferdinand and Isabella. The Governor of Cuba, meanwhile, without waiting for support from home, took measures for redress into his own hands. We have seen in a preceding chapter how deeply he was moved by the reports of the precedings of Cortés and of the treasures which his vessel was bearing to Spain. Rage, mortification, disappointed avarice distracted his mind. He could not forgive himself for trusting the affair to such hands. On the very week in which Cortés had parted from him to take charge of the fleet, a capitulation had been signed by Charles V, conferring on Belasquez the title of Adelantado with great augmentation of his original powers. The Governor resolved, without loss of time, to send such a force to the Aztec coast as should enable him to assert his new authority to its full extent and to take vengeance on his rebellious officer. He began his preparations as early as October. At first he proposed to assume the command in person, but his unwieldy size, which disqualified him for the fatigue's incident to such an expedition, or, according to his own account, tenderness for his Indian subjects then wasted by an epidemic, induced him to devolve the command on another. The person whom he selected was a Castilian Hidalgo named Panfilo de Narváez. He had assisted Belasquez in the reduction of Cuba, where his conduct cannot be wholly vindicated from the charge of in humanity, which too often attaches to the early Spanish adventurers. From that time he continued to hold important posts under the government, and was a decided favorite with Belasquez. He was a man of some military capacity, though negligent and lax in his discipline. He possessed undoubted courage, but it was mingled with an arrogance, or rather overweening confidence in his own powers, which made him deft to the suggestions of others more sagacious than himself. He was altogether deficient in that prudence and calculating foresight demanded in a leader who was to cope with an antagonist like Cortes. The governor and his lieutenant were unwirried in their efforts to assemble an army. They visited every considerable town in the island, fitting out vessels, laying in stores and ammunition, and encouraging volunteers to enlist by liberal promises. But the most effectual bounty was the assurance of the rich treasures that awaited them in the golden regions of Mexico. So confident were they in this expectation that all classes and ages vied with one another in eagerness to embark on the expedition, until it seemed as if the whole white population would desert the island and leave it to its primitive occupants. The report of these proceedings soon spread through the islands and drew the attention of the royal audience of Santo Domingo. This body was entrusted at that time not only with the highest judicial authority in the colonies, but with a civil jurisdiction which, as the admiral complained, encroached on his own rights. The tribunal saw with alarm the proposed expedition of Belasquez which whatever might be its issue in regard to the parties could not fail to compromise the interests of the crown. They chose accordingly one of their number, the Licenshit Ayon, a man of prudence and resolution, and dispatched him to Cuba with instructions to interpose his authority and stay, if possible, the proceedings of Belasquez. On his arrival he found the governor in the western part of the island, busily occupied in getting the fleet ready for sea. The Licenshit explained to him the purport of his mission and the views entertained of the proposed enterprise by the royal audience. The conquest of a powerful country like Mexico required the whole force of the Spaniards, and if one half were employed against the other, nothing but ruin could come of it. It was the governor's duty as a good subject to forgo all private animosities and to sustain those now engaged in the great work by sending them the necessary supplies. He might indeed proclaim his own powers and demand obedience to them. But, if this were refused, he should leave the determination of his dispute to the authorized tribunals and employ his resources in prosecuting discovery in another direction instead of hazarding all by hostilities with his rival. This admonition, however sensible and salutary, was not at all to the taste of the governor. He professed indeed to have no intention of coming to hostilities with Cortes. He designed only to assert his lawful jurisdiction over territories discovered under his own auspices. At the same time, he denied the right of Ion or the royal audience to interfere in the matter. Narvaz was still more refractory, and as the fleet was now ready, proclaimed his intention to sail in a few hours. In this state of things, the licentiate baffled in his first purpose of staying the expedition, determined to accompany it in person that he might prevent, if possible, by his presence and open rupture between the parties. The squadron consisted of eighteen vessels, large and small. It carried nine hundred men, eighty of whom were cavalry, eighty more arco-basirs, one hundred and fifty crossbowmen with a number of heavy guns and a large supply of ammunition and military stores. There were besides a thousand Indians, natives of the island, who went probably in a menial capacity. So gallant and armada, with one exception, the great fleet under Ovando 1501 in which Cortes had intended to embark for the new world, never before rode in the Indian seas. None to compare with it had ever been fitted out in the Western world. Leaving Cuba early in March 1520, Narvaz held nearly the same course as Cortes, and running down what was then called the island of Yucatán under a heavy tempest in which some of his smaller vessels foundered, anchored April 23rd off San Juan de Ulua. It was the place where Cortes had also first landed, the sandy waste covered by the present city of Veracruz. Here the commander met with a Spaniard, one of those sent by the general from Mexico, to ascertain the resources of the country, especially its mineral products. This man came on board the fleet, and from him the Spaniards gathered the particulars of all that had occurred since the departure of the envoys from Veracruz. The march to the interior, the bloody battles with the Tlascalans, the occupation of Mexico, the rich treasures found in it, and the seizure of the monarch by means of which concluded the soldier. Cortes rules over the land like its own sovereign, so that a Spaniard may travel unarmed from one end of the country to the other without insult or injury. His audience listened to this marvelous report with speechless amazement and the loyal indignation of Narváez waxed stronger and stronger as he learned the value of the prize which had been snatched from his employer. He now openly proclaimed his intention to march against Cortes and punish him for his rebellion. He made this vaunt so loudly that the natives who had flocked in numbers to the camp, which was soon formed on shore, clearly comprehended that the newcomers were not friends but enemies of the proceeding. Narváez determined also, though in opposition to the council of the Spaniard, who quoted the example of Cortes, to establish a settlement on this unpromising spot, and he made the necessary arrangements to organize a municipality. He was informed by the soldier of the existence of the neighboring colony at Biarrica, commanded by Sandoval, and consisting of a few invalids who he was assured would surrender on the first summons. Instead of marching against the place, however, he determined to send a peaceful embassy to display his powers and demand the submission of the garrison. These successive steps gave serious displeasure to Ayon, who saw that they must lead to the inevitable collision with Cortes. But it was in vain he remonstrated and threatened to lay the proceedings of Narváez before the government. The latter, chafed by his continued opposition and sour rebuke, determined to rid himself of a companion who acted as a spy on his movements. He caused him to be seized and sent back to Cuba. The licentiate had the address to persuade the captain of the vessel to change her destination for Santo Domingo. And when he arrived there, a formal report of his proceedings, exhibiting in strong colors the disloyal conduct of the governor and his lieutenant, was prepared and dispatched by the royal audience to Spain. Sandoval, meanwhile, had not been inattentive to the movements of Narváez. From the time of his first appearance on the coast, that vigilant officer distrusting the object of the armament had kept his eye on him. No sooner was he apprised of the landing of the Spaniards than the commander of Villarrica sent off his few disabled soldiers to a place of safety in the neighborhood. He then put his works in the best posture of defense that he could and prepared to maintain the place to the last extremity. His men promised to stand by him, and the more effectually to fortify the resolution of any who might falter, he ordered the gallows to be set up in a conspicuous part of the town. The constancy of his men was not put to the trial. The only invaders of the place were a priest, a notary, and four other Spaniards selected for the mission already noticed by Narváez. The ecclesiastic's name was Guevara. Oncoming before Sandoval, he made him a formal address in which he pompously enumerated the services and claims of Belazquez, taxed Cortés and his adherents with rebellion, and demanded of Sandoval to tender his submission as a loyal subject to the newly constituted authority of Narváez. The commander of Villarrica was so much incensed at this unceremonious mention of his companions-in-arms that he assured the reverent envoy that nothing but respect for his cloth saved him from the chastisement he merited. Guevara now waxed Roth in his turn and called on the notary to read the proclamation. But Sandoval interposed, promising that, functionary, that if he attempted to do so without first producing a warrant of his authority from the crown he should be soundly flogged. Guevara lost all command of himself at this and, stamping on the ground, repeated his orders in a more peremptory tone than before. Sandoval was not a man of many words. He simply remarked that the instrument should be read to the general himself in Mexico. At the same time he ordered his men to procure a number of sturdy Tammains, or Indian porters, on whose backs the unfortunate priest and his companions were bound, like so many bales of goods. They were then placed under the guard of twenty Spaniards, and the whole caravan took its march for the capital. Day and night they travelled, stopping only to obtain fresh relays of carriers, and as they passed through populous towns, forests and cultivated fields, vanishing as soon as seen, the Spaniards bewildered by the strangeness of the scene, as well as of their novel mode of conveyance hardly knew whether they were awake or in a dream. In this way at the end of the fourth day they reached the Tescocaan Lake in view of the Aztec capital. Its inhabitants had already been made acquainted with the fresh arrival of white men on the coast. Indeed, directly on their landing, intelligence had been communicated to Montezuma, who is said, it does not seem improbable, to have concealed it some days from Cortez. At length, inviting him to an interview, he told him there was no longer any obstacle to his leaving the country, as a fleet was ready for him. To the inquiries of the astonished general, Montezuma replied by pointing to a hieroglyphical map sent him from the coast, on which the ships, the Spaniards themselves, and their whole equipment were minutely delineated. Cortez suppressing all emotions but those of pleasure exclaimed, blessed be the redeemer for his mercies. On returning to his quarters the tidings were received by the troops with loud shouts, the firing of cannon, and other demonstrations of joy. They hailed the newcomers as reinforcement from Spain. Not so their commander. From the first he suspected them to be sent by his enemy, the governor of Cuba. He communicated his suspicions to his officers, through whom they gradually found their way among the men. The tide of joy was instantly checked. Alarming apprehensions succeeded, as they dwelt on the probability of the suggestion and on the strength of the invaders. Yet their constancy did not desert them, and they pledged themselves to remain true to their cause and come what might to stand by their leader. It was one of those occasions that proved the entire influence which Cortez held over these wild adventurers. All doubts were soon dispelled by the arrival of the prisoners from Biarrica. One of the convoy, leaving the party in the suburbs, entered the city and delivered a letter to the general from Sandoval, acquainting him with all the particulars. Cortez instantly sent to the prisoners, ordered them to be released, and furnished them with horses to make their entrance into the capital, a more credible conveyance than the backs of Tamanes. On their arrival he received them with marked courtesy, apologized for the rude conduct of his officers, and seemed desirous by the most assiduous attentions to soothe the irritation of their minds. He showed his goodwill still further, by lavishing presence on Girada and his associates, until he gradually wrought such a change in their dispositions that, from enemies, he converted them into friends, and drew forth many important particulars respecting not merely the designs of their leader, but the feelings of his army. The soldiers in general, they said, far from desiring a rupture with those of Cortez, would willingly co-operate with them, were it not for their commander. They had no feelings of resentment to gratify. Their object was gold. The personal influence of Nadavius was not great, and his arrogance and penurious temper had already gone far to alienate from him the affections of his followers. These hints were not lost on the general. He addressed a letter to his rival in the most conciliatory terms. He besought him not to proclaim their animosity to the world, and by kindling a spirit of insubordination in the natives, to settle all that had been so far secured. A violent collision must be prejudicial even to the victor, and might be fatal to both. It was only in union that they could look for success. He was ready to greet Nadavius as a brother-in-arms, to share with him the fruits of conquest, and, if he could produce a royal commission, to submit to his authority. Cortez well knew he had no such commission to show. Soon after the departure of Guevara and his comrades, the general determined to send a special envoy of his own. The person selected for this delicate office was Father Olmedo, who, through the campaign, had shown practical good sense, a talent for affairs, not always to be found in persons of his spiritual calling. He was entrusted with another epistle to Nadavius of similar import with the proceeding. Cortez wrote also to the Licentiate Allon, with whose departure he was not acquainted, and to Andres de Duero, former secretary of Velázquez and his own friend, who had come over in the present fleet. Olmedo was instructed to converse with these persons in private, as well as with the principal officers and soldiers, and as far as possible to infuse into them a spirit of accommodation. To give greater weight to his arguments he was furnished with a liberal supply of gold. During this time Nadavius had abandoned his original design of planting a colony on the sea coast, and had crossed the country to Semboaia, where he had taken up his quarters. He was there when Guevara returned, and presented the letter of Cortez. Nadavius glanced over it with a look of contempt, which was changed into one of stern displeasure, as his envoy enlarged on the resources and formidable character of his rival, counseling him by all means to accept his proffers of amity. A different effect was produced on the troops, who listened with greedy ears to the accounts given of Cortez, his frank and liberal manners, which they involuntarily contrasted with those of their own commander, the wealth in his camp, where the humblest private could stake his ingot and chain of gold at play, where all reveled in plenty, and the life of the soldier seemed to be one long holiday. Guevara had been admitted only to the sunny side of the picture. The impression made by these accounts was confirmed by the presence of Olmedo. The ecclesiastic delivered his missives in like manner to Nadavius, who ran through their contents with feelings of anger, which found vent in the most appropriate invectives against his rival, while one of his captains, named Salvatierra, openly avowed his intention to cut off the rebels' ears and broil them for his breakfast. Such impotent sallies did not alarm the stout-hearted friar, who soon entered into communication with many of the officers and soldiers whom he found better inclined to an accommodation. His insinuating eloquence, backed by his liberal largesse, gradually opened away into their hearts, and a party was formed under the very eye of their chief, better affected to his rival's interests than to his own. The intrigue could not be conducted so secretly as wholly to elude the suspicions of Nadavius, who would have arrested Olmedo and placed him under confinement but for the interposition of Duero. He put a stop to his further machinations by sending him back again to his master, but the poison was left to do its work. Nadavius made the same vaunt at his landing of his design to march against Cortes and apprehend him as a traitor. The Semboayans learned with astonishment that their new guests, through the countrymen, were enemies of their former. Nadavius also proclaimed his intention to release Montezuma from captivity and to restore him to his throne. It is said he received a rich present from the Aztec Emperor who entered into a correspondence with him. That Montezuma should have treated him with his usual munificence, supposing him to be the friend of Cortes, is very probable. But that he should have entered into a secret communication hostile to the general's interests is too repugnant to the whole tenor of his conduct to be lightly admitted. These proceedings did not escape the watchful eye of Sandoval. He gathered the particulars partly from deserters who fled to Villarrica and partly from his own agents who in the disguise of natives mingled in the enemy's camp. He sent a full account of them to Cortes, acquainted him with the growing defection of the Indians, and urged him to take speedy measures for the defense of Villarrica if he would not see it fall into the enemy's hands. The general felt that it was time to act. Yet the selection of the course to be pursued was embarrassing in the extreme. If he remained in Mexico and awaited there the attack of his rival, it would give the latter time to gather round him the whole forces of the Empire, including those of the capital itself, all willing, no doubt, to serve under the banners of a chief who proposed the liberation of their master. The odds were too great to be hazarded. If he marched against Narváez he must either abandon the city and the emperor, the fruit of all his toils and triumphs, or by leaving a garrison to hold them in awe must cripple his strength, already far too weak to cope with that of his adversary. Yet on this latter course he decided. He trusted less, perhaps, to an open encounter of arms than to the influence of his personal address and previous intrigues to bring about an amicable arrangement. But he prepared himself for either result. In the preceding chapter it was mentioned that Velázquez de Leon was sent with a hundred and fifty men to plant a colony on one of the great rivers emptying into the Mexican Gulf. Cortés, on learning the arrival of Narváez, had dispatched a messenger to his officer to acquaint him with the fact and to arrest his further progress. But Velázquez had already received notice of it from Narváez himself who, in a letter written soon after his landing, had adjured him in the name of his kinsmen, the governor of Cuba, to quit the banners of Cortés and come over to him. That officer, however, had long since buried the feelings of resentment which he had once nourished against his general, to whom he was now devotedly attached and who had honoured him throughout the campaign with particular regard. Cortés had early seen the importance of securing this cavalier to his interests. Without waiting for orders, Velázquez abandoned his expedition and commenced a counter-march on the capital when he received the general's commands to await him in Cholula. Cortés had also sent to the distant province of Chinatla, situated far to the southeast of Cholula for a reinforcement of two thousand natives. They were a bold race, hostile to the Mexicans and had offered their services to him since his residence in the Metropolis. They used a long spear and battle, longer indeed than that borne by the Spanish or German infantry. Cortés ordered three hundred of their double-headed lances to be made for him and to be tipped with copper instead of itsly. With this formidable weapon he proposed to foil the cavalry of his enemy. The command of the garrison in his absence he entrusted to Pedro de Alvarado, the tonatio of the Mexicans, a man possessed of many commanding qualities, of an intrepid though somewhat arrogant spirit, and his warm personal friend. He inculcated on him moderation and forbearance. He was to keep a close watch on Morizuma for on the possession of the royal person rested all their authority in the land. He was to show him the deference alike due to his high station and demanded by policy. He was to pay uniform respect to the usages and prejudices of the people, remembering that though his small force would be large enough to overall them in times of quiet, yet should they once be roused it would be swept away like chaff before the whirlwind. From Montezuma he exacted a promise to maintain the same friendly relations with his lieutenant, which he had preserved towards himself. This said Cortés would be most grateful to his own master, the Spanish sovereign. Should the Aztec prince do otherwise and lend himself to any hostile movement, he must be convinced that he would fall the first victim of it. The emperor assured him of his continued goodwill. He was much perplexed, however, by the recent events. Were they at his court, or those just landed the true representatives of their sovereign? Cortés, who had hitherto maintained a reserve on the subject, now told him that the latter were indeed his countrymen, but traitors to his master. As such it was his painful duty to march against them, and when he had chastised their rebellion he should return before his departure from the land in triumph to the capital. Montezuma offered to support him with five thousand Aztec warriors, but the general declined it, not choosing to encumber himself with a body of doubtful, perhaps disaffected auxiliaries. He left in garrison under Alvarado one hundred and forty men, two-thirds of his whole force. With these remained all the artillery and the greater part of the little body of horse, and most of the arquebusiers. He took with him only seventy soldiers, but they were the men of the most metal in the army and his staunch adherents. They were lightly armed and encumbered with as little baggage as possible. Everything depended on celerity of movement. Montezuma, in his royal litter, born on the shoulders of his nobles and escorted by the whole Spanish infantry, accompanied the general to the causeway. There, embracing him in the most cordial manner, they parted with all the external marks of mutual regard. It was about the middle of May fifteen twenty, more than six months since the entrance of the Spaniards into Mexico. During this time they had lorded it over the land with absolute sway. They were now leaving the city in hostile array, not against an Indian foe, but their own countrymen. It was the beginning of a long career of calamity, checkered indeed by occasional triumphs, which was yet to be run before the conquest could be completed.