by G. A. Henty
They said that the emperor had, since their arrival, been in a state of vacillation, constantly consulting the oracles, and unable to make up his mind whether to fight them, or to receive them with honor. He had, when he heard that they were going to Cholula, first issued orders that they should be well received; but since then the oracles had again been consulted, and had declared that Cholula would be the grave of the white men, for that the gods would assuredly lend their aid in destroying the enemies who had dared to violate the sanctity of the holy city. He had, therefore, ordered the attack to take place in the manner described; and so certain were the Aztecs of success that the manacles to secure the prisoners had already been sent to the city.
Cortez dismissed the priests, telling them that he intended to leave the city the following morning, and requested that they would induce the principal nobles engaged in the plot to pay him a visit, at once. As soon as the priests had left, he summoned his principal officers, and disclosed to them the plot he had discovered. There was much difference of opinion between them. Some were in favor of returning at once to the friendly city of Tlascala. Others voted for still advancing, but by the northerly route their allies had recommended. But the majority agreed, with their general, that their only chance of safety was in taking a bold course; for that retreat would raise the whole country against them, and ensure their destruction.
When the nobles arrived, Cortez rebuked them mildly for their altered conduct and for the failure of supplies; and said that the Spaniards would no longer be a burden upon the city, but would march out on the following morning; and requested that they would furnish a body of two thousand men, to transport his artillery and baggage. As this suited admirably the designs of the natives, they at once agreed to furnish the required force.
Upon their leaving, Cortez had an interview with Montezuma’s ambassadors, who had accompanied him from the coast, and told them that he was aware of the treacherous plot to destroy him and his army, and that he was grieved to find that this vile act of treachery was instigated by Montezuma. The ambassadors, astounded at what appeared to them the supernatural knowledge of Cortez, and terrified at the position in which they found themselves, made earnest protestations of their entire ignorance of the scheme; and declared that they were convinced that the emperor was wholly innocent of it, and that it was entirely the act of the Cholulans. Cortez pretended to believe them, as he was desirous, as long as possible, of keeping up a semblance of friendship with Montezuma; and declared that he was willing to believe that, after the friendly messages and gifts the emperor had sent, he could not be guilty of such baseness and treachery. His anger therefore would be directed chiefly against the Cholulans, who were guilty not only of foul treachery to himself, but of dishonoring the emperor’s name by their conduct.
As soon, however, as the ambassadors had retired, a strong guard was placed over them, to prevent them from communicating with the citizens. Every precaution was taken, in case the plans of the enemy should be altered, and an attack made during the night. The guns were placed so as to command the approaches. The horses were kept saddled, and ready for action. Strong guards were placed, and the troops lay down in their armor. Orders were dispatched, to the Tlascalans, to hold themselves ready to march into the city in the morning, and join the Spaniards.
As soon as daylight broke, the troops were under arms. A portion of those, with the guns, were posted outside the building, so as to sweep the streets. A strong body were told off to guard the three gates of entrance. The rest were drawn up in the great court, which was surrounded partly by buildings, partly by high walls.
Soon after the arrangements were completed the caziques arrived, having with them a body of men even larger than they had agreed to bring. As soon as they entered, Cortez called them to him, and informed him that he was acquainted with all the particulars of the conspiracy. He had come to that city upon the invitation of the emperor, had given them no cause of complaint, and had left his allies outside the walls. Under the guise of kindness and hospitality, they had prepared a snare to cut off and destroy them.
The Cholulans were astounded. It seemed to them useless to deny anything to men who could thus read their thoughts, and they confessed that the accusation was true.
Cortez raised his hand. A gun gave the signal, a terrible volley was poured into the Cholulans, and the Spaniards then fell upon them with pikes and swords. The unfortunate natives, thus taken by surprise, and penned up like sheep in the enclosure, scarcely offered any resistance; some tried to escape through the gateways, but were repulsed by the troops stationed there. Others strove, but in vain, to scale the walls, and the only survivors of the massacre owed their lives to hiding under the great piles of dead.
In the meantime, the Mexicans without, being made aware by the heavy firing of the failure of their plan of surprise, rushed from the buildings in which they had been stationed, and poured up to the assault. They were swept down by the discharges of the guns, but the places of the slain were rapidly filled, and with reckless bravery they pressed up to the Spaniards; although Cortez, at the head of his cavalry, charged them again and again, so as to give the gunners time to reload.
The struggle was still proceeding when the Tlascalans entered the gates of the city and, coming up at a run to the scene of conflict, fell upon the rear of the Mexicans. These could no longer resist their terrible opponents and, breaking their ranks, took refuge in the houses, or fled to the temples.
One large body, headed by the priests, made a stand upon the great central teocalli. There was a tradition among them that, if its stones were removed, the god would pour out an inundation of water to overwhelm his enemies. The Cholulans tore down some of the stones, and when the expected miracle did not take place, were seized with despair. Many shut themselves up in the wooden towers on the platform of the summit, and poured down missiles on their foes as they climbed the great staircase; but the darts and arrows fell harmless upon the armor of the Spaniards, and when these gained the platform, they snatched up the blazing arrows shot at them, and fired the turrets. The Cholulans fought to the last, and either threw themselves over the parapet, or perished in the flames.
In the meantime, many of the wooden houses in the town had caught fire, and the flames spread rapidly. The Spanish cavalry charging through the street trampled the Mexicans under foot, while the Tlascalan allies gratified their long enmity against the Cholulans by slaying them without mercy.
When all resistance had ceased, the victors burst into the houses and temples, and plundered them of their valuables. The sack continued for some hours, and then Cortez, at the entreaties of some Cholulan caziques who had been spared at the massacre, and of the Mexican ambassadors, consented to call off his troops; and two of the nobles were allowed to go into the town, and to assure the surviving inhabitants that no further harm would be done to them, if they would return to their homes.
The Spaniards and Tlascalans were drawn up under their respective leaders. The division of the booty offered no difficulties. The mountaineers attached no value to gold or jewels, and were well content with wearing apparel and provisions; while to the share of the Spaniards fell the valuables taken. Cortez had given strict orders that no violence should be offered to the women or children, and his orders had been respected; but many of these and numbers of men had been made prisoners by the Tlascalans, to carry away into slavery.
Cortez, however, now persuaded them to liberate their captives; and so great was his influence that they acceded to his request. The dead bodies were now collected, and carried outside the city by the inhabitants.
Cortez, in his letter to the Emperor Charles, says that three thousand were slain; but most contemporary writers put down the number of victims at six thousand, and some at even a higher figure. Order was promptly restored. The inhabitants who had left the town speedily returned, and the people of the neighborhood flocked in with supplies. The markets were re-opened, and only the lines of blackened ruins told of
the recent strife.
The massacre was a terrible one, and is a stain upon the memory of Cortez; who otherwise throughout the campaign acted mercifully, strictly prohibiting any plundering or ill treatment of the natives, and punishing all breaches of his orders with great severity. The best excuse that can be offered is, that in desperate positions desperate measures must be taken; that the plot, if successful, would have resulted in the extermination of the Spaniards; and that the terrible lesson taught was necessary, to ensure the safety of the expedition. Moreover, a considerable portion of those who fell, fell in fair fight; and after the action was over, the inhabitants were well treated. It must, too, be taken into consideration that the Spaniards were crusaders as well as discoverers; and that it was their doctrine that all heretics must be treated as enemies of God, and destroyed accordingly.
Such was not the doctrine of their Church, for as the great historian Bede writes of King Ethelbert:
“He had learned, from the teachers and authors of his salvation, that men are to be drawn, not dragged, to heaven.”
Roger, with his two companions, had formed part of the force stationed outside the gates to resist the attack of the citizens; and he had taken his share in the fierce fighting that went on there. He was not free from the prejudices of his times, and the horrible sacrifices of the temples, and the narrow escape he himself had had in being offered up as a victim, had inspired him with a deep hatred of the religion of the people; although against them, personally, he had no feeling of hostility. Even in the height of the conflict he felt pity for the men who, in their cotton armor, rushed so fearlessly to the attack of the iron-clad Spaniards, armed with their terrible weapons. But at the same time, he knew that if they were successful, the most horrible fate awaited him and his companions; and the treacherous plot, of which they had so nearly been the victims, excited the same feelings in his mind as in that of the Spaniards.
CHAPTER 14
In Mexico
The terrible vengeance taken by the Spaniards at Cholula struck terror into the minds of the Mexicans. The white men had shown, in their conflict with the Tlascalans, how terrible they were in battle, and it now seemed that treachery was of no avail against them. The cities in the neighborhood of Cholula hastened to send messages expressive of submission to the terrible white warriors, accompanied by presents of all kinds. Montezuma saw, with awe and affright, that even the oracles of the gods could not be depended upon against these strangers; and that bribes, force, and treachery had alike failed to arrest their march towards his capital. Vast numbers of victims were again offered up on the altars, but no favorable responses were returned—for the priests, seeing how complete had been the failure of their predictions as to events at Cholula, were unwilling again to commit themselves. The emperor consequently sent fresh ambassadors laden with presents to Cortez, with assurances that he was in no way responsible for the attack upon them, and that he considered they had done well in punishing its authors.
Cortez endeavored to induce the inhabitants of the city to embrace Christianity; and would have resorted to force here, as at Cempoalla, but he was dissuaded by Father Olmedo; who, as on former occasions, urged that conversions effected by force were of little use, and that the cause would be injured, rather than benefited by such measures. Christianity would, as a matter of course, result from the success of the Spaniards; and that success would be imperiled, by exciting the animosity of the whole people by violence to their gods. As the great teocalli had been captured in fair fight, and a large portion of its buildings burnt, Cortez converted a massive stone edifice that had escaped the flames into a church, and erected a gigantic crucifix on the summit of the teocalli, visible from all points of the city.
A fortnight after his entrance to Cholula, Cortez again began to move forward. His Cempoallan allies, who had fought with great bravery against the Tlascalans, and had rendered him immense assistance upon the march, now asked to be allowed to return home; for much as they believed in the prowess of the whites, the dread of Montezuma’s name was too great for them to dare trust themselves in his capital. Cortez dismissed them with many presents and, with his Tlascalan army, set forward towards the capital.
As they proceeded on their way, parties came in from various towns on the plateau with friendly messages. The enormous taxation, imposed to keep up the luxurious court of the emperor, pressed heavily upon the land; and the greater portion of the inhabitants hailed, with real satisfaction, the coming of a power that appeared likely to overthrow the Aztec tyranny. Had it not been for this widespread disaffection, the little army of Cortez would, in spite of its bravery and superior weapons, have been powerless against the vast hosts which could have been hurled against it. But the people of the empire, in general, regarded Mexico as its oppressor and tyrant, and hailed the opportunity of freeing themselves from its dominations. Cortez, except when the question of religion was concerned, was politic in the highest degree; and inspired all the natives who came to him with the full belief that, in him, they would have a kind and generous protector against Montezuma.
Warm as were the assurances of friendship sent by that monarch, the Spaniards were well aware that no confidence could be placed in them. Their new friends, indeed, informed them that he was already preparing for an attack upon the Spaniards; and that the straight and level road had been blocked up, in order that they might be forced to take their passage through the mountains, where they could be attacked and overwhelmed at points at which their cavalry and artillery would be unable to act.
On arriving, therefore, at the place where the roads had been blocked, Cortez caused the piled-up obstacles to be removed; and the army proceeded by the level road, where they felt confident in their power to defend themselves, if attacked.
Upon the march Roger sometimes kept with Juan and Pedro, at other times walked beside Malinche, who, although wholly devoted to Cortez, had yet a warm and kindly feeling for her former friend. Cortez himself often consulted Roger as to the roads and places ahead, for he always received the native descriptions with some doubt, as he could not be sure whether they were honestly given.
After passing across the plateau, the little army ascended the steep range of hills separating it from the table land of Mexico. The cold was sufficient to affect them seriously, after the heat of the plains; and the difficulties of taking up the guns and their ammunition were great. This work was principally performed by the native allies, the Spaniards holding themselves in readiness to repel any attack that might be made upon them, in the forest-clad hills or in the deep defiles; but no foes showed themselves, and they at last gained the western slopes, whence the plains of Mexico burst into sight.
The Spaniards stood astonished—as Roger had done, on his first journey—at the beauty of the prospect; but the sight of the numerous cities, telling of an immense population, filled them with uneasiness; and a clamor presently arose, that to march onward against such overwhelming odds was nothing short of madness; and that, having accomplished such vast things, they had done sufficient for honor, and should now return with the spoils they had captured to the coast.
But, as before, the enthusiasm and influence of Cortez soon reanimated their courage. He and the other leaders went among them, and by argument and entreaty persuaded them again to form their ranks and press forward; and in a short time the army wound down from the heights into the valley.
Happily for them, the ruler of Mexico was altogether dominated by superstitious fears. Against native enemies he had shown himself a resolute and valiant leader, had carried on numerous successful wars, and had by force of arms greatly extended his dominions; but against these strange white enemies, his faculties seemed altogether to fail him. He had, for years, given himself up to the priesthood; and in this crisis, instead of consulting with his trusted generals, he was swayed wholly by the advice of the priests; and sought protection, not from the armies at his command, but from the gods, whom he strove to influence in his favor by hecatombs o
f human victims, sacrificed upon their altars.
In the month that had elapsed since he joined Cortez at Tlascala, Roger had made considerable progress in Spanish; and although incapable of supporting a long conversation with his comrades, could make himself understood in simple matters. His behavior at the fight in Cholula had gained him the respect of the old soldier; who, however, was not wholly satisfied with him.
“The young fellow is no coward,” he said to Pedro. “When the Mexicans were pressing us sorely, he fought as stoutly and well as any in our ranks. He is well skilled in the use of the sword, which is wonderful, seeing that the Mexicans among whom he has been brought up are but poor hands with that weapon; and both with thrust and point he showed himself perfectly at home with the heavy blade the general gave him. I saw him pressed at one time by four Mexicans together, and was making to his assistance. But there was no need for it. He ran one through the body, and with heavy downright blows, well-nigh cleft the heads of two others; and the fourth, with a cry of astonishment and fear, sprang back into the crowd.
“But though he fought so stoutly when attacked, he showed less ardor in the assault, and lagged behind when we were pursuing the enemy.”
“I like him none the worse for that, Juan,” Pedro said. “He has lived among these people, and though I hear that, when they heard of our landing, they would have sacrificed him, and he had to fly for his life and fight hard to make his escape, he must in other respects look upon them without animosity; and doubtless he felt some pity for the poor wretches.”
“I felt some pity myself,” Juan said; “but as they had intended so treacherously towards us, and proposed to put us all to a cruel death, I did not let my pity interfere with my sword arm.”
“Ah, but you have been accustomed to battles and bloodshed all your life, Juan. One does not take to the trade of killing all at once, and I like him none the worse that he was disinclined for the slaughter of the people among whom he had been brought up.”