Chapter IX

Montezuma is Made a Prisoner—Quauhpopoka and His Leaders Burned—The Mexicans Swear Allegiance to the King of Spain

Cortes summoned his officers to a council of war and set before them the great danger to which they would be exposed in case Montezuma attacked them. They recognized at once that the situation must be met. Some were of opinion they should leave the city entirely and cross the causeways before their road was cut off. Others suggested that they should retire with the knowledge of the Emperor. Both these measures, however, appeared unwise, since any withdrawal would seem like flight and would involve not only a battle with the Mexicans but also the contempt of their allies. Cortes announced a plan, inspired by the highest daring in the face of a desperate situation. He would make Montezuma a prisoner, leaving him an appearance of sovereignty, but actually ruling in his name. The deed of Quauhpopoka, for which the Emperor was responsible, would furnish justification for his imprisonment. After the council had approved this project, preparations were made to carry it out. The whole force was placed under arms in the closed courtyard in readiness at the first signal to go to the help of the general. Some small detachments were ordered to occupy the streets leading to Montezuma’s palace, which would not create excitement, as the people were used to seeing armed Spaniards. When the hour came in which Cortes was accustomed to wait upon the Emperor, he betook himself with five officers and thirty of the bravest men in his army to the palace. This also aroused no suspicion, for a military escort was a common spectacle.

Cortes as usual was courteously received and was conducted to Montezuma’s apartment with his officers and interpreter. The servants withdrew and the venturesome scene began. With a countenance expressive of the highest indignation Cortes denounced the faithless act of Quauhpopoka, who, at a time of peace, and in defiance of justice, had attacked his people and allies, inhumanly slaughtered a Spaniard, and sent his head through the country as a show. He added that report made Montezuma himself responsible for this and therefore he was forced to demand satisfaction for the insult which had been offered to his master, the greatest monarch of the earth.

Montezuma was so terrified that he turned pale, but he declared by all that was most sacred he was in no way responsible for the outrage. As a proof of his innocence he added that he would at once order Quauhpopoka and his accomplices to be brought to Mexico in chains. Cortes thereupon assumed a more friendly attitude and assured Montezuma that as far as he himself was concerned he was entirely content, but to satisfy his enraged soldiers he would have to demand more. They would never be persuaded that such a deed could have happened without the Emperor’s knowledge if he did not agree publicly to prove his good faith and sincere friendship. The proof which they demanded was his presence for several days in their quarters where they might offer fitting honors to His Majesty.

Montezuma was beside himself with astonishment and indignation at this unusual demand. He was unable to speak and stood like a statue, while Cortes represented to him that this request of his soldiers was not unseemly as he would spend the time in quarters assigned to him in one of his own palaces. At last the astonished man came to himself and found words to express his indignation. With great dignity he said: “A sovereign of the Mexican Empire is not accustomed voluntarily to accept imprisonment, and, even if I were capable of it, my subjects would never submit to such shameful treatment.”

Cortes, who was reluctant to use force, both flattered and threatened Montezuma to induce him to give his consent, but it was in vain. At last, after three hours had been wasted in useless talk, Velasquez De Leon, one of the Spanish officers, a young, excitable man, whose patience was exhausted, exclaimed with threatening gestures: “Why all this consideration? Take him by force or kill him.” Montezuma asked what he had said. Marina informed him and added that she trembled for his life if he refused to go. The poor man at once lost all courage. He realized that he was in the power of strong men and that he must expect the worst if he longer refused. He yielded to his fate, sprang from his seat, and informed Cortes he trusted to his assurances and would go with him.

Thereupon he called together his leading officials and informed them that for important reasons he should spend a few days with his guest. They were greatly astonished but did not venture to offer the least objection to the absolute will of their master. They carried the litter in which the unfortunate monarch was borne away from his own people, a prisoner under Spanish guard. Hardly was his removal known in the city before the streets were filled with crowds. Some shrieked, others wept, others threw themselves upon the ground as if in their last despairing agony. But Montezuma tried to calm them. He appeared with a smiling countenance, motioned to them with his hand, and assured them he was not a prisoner. He was voluntarily going to visit this guest for a few days. This quieted them somewhat, and the Spaniards proceeded without hindrance to their quarters with their prisoner. Montezuma went to an apartment he was accustomed to occupy and the attendants treated him with the utmost respect, as their general had ordered. His first act was to send an order in Cortes’ presence to his body-guard, to bring Quauhpopoka and the rest of the guilty ones in chains to the city.

In due time Quauhpopoka, his son, and five of his principal people were brought to Mexico. Cortes called a council of war and the unfortunates were condemned to be burned alive. As soon as the decision was made, in order to humble this submissive monarch to the utmost and make a mockery of his former power, Cortes, in sight of all the people, arbitrarily emptied Montezuma’s arsenal of the great quantity of spears, shields, and other weapons kept there, in order to make a pyre of it upon which to burn the victims, who were not guilty of crime for they had only done what their master had ordered. The weapons collected for the protection of the Empire were heaped up. A countless multitude of dazed spectators stood there, not knowing what to say or do. The awful sacrifice was made.

At the same instant Cortes, accompanied by several officers and a soldier carrying iron fetters, went to Montezuma’s apartment. He approached the terrified monarch and fiercely thundered at him that he was the malefactor, for he was the author of the outrages perpetrated by these victims. Hardly had he spoken these words when he turned his back upon the man fallen so low from his former high estate, and the soldier placed the fetters upon the Emperor. Montezuma stood speechless, helpless, almost senseless. At last he broke into a loud wail, evidently expecting they would immediately lead him also to the place of punishment. But what made this piteous scene most touching was the demeanor of his faithful attendants, who prostrated themselves in silent grief at his feet, bedewing them with their tears. They raised his fetters to lighten their weight and placed little pieces of soft cloth between the iron and his skin that his precious limbs might not feel the pressure. It was a sight to bring tears of sympathy to the eyes of the most hard-hearted spectator.

The punishment having been inflicted, Cortes approached Montezuma in a friendly manner and said that justice was satisfied. With these words he ordered his fetters taken off. The distracted and humiliated monarch was wellnigh overcome with delight. He embraced his oppressor over and over as he expressed his gratitude for his release. The unfortunate monarch in his excess of joy seemed to forget that the fetters taken from him now might soon be fastened more firmly than ever.

Cortes now made one bold move after another to bring the Mexican people into complete subjection. He sent some of his officers through the country, partly to learn the extent and nature of each province and partly to discover the places where gold and silver were to be found. He also persuaded Montezuma, under various pretences, to remove the ablest and most courageous of his officials and appoint in their places weak and unintelligent men who could easily be managed by the Spaniards. Then he made a last humiliating demand in his efforts to crush Montezuma’s proud spirit. It was that he should publicly acknowledge himself a vassal of the Spanish King and bind himself to pay an annual tribute as a sign of his subjection. What could Montezuma do? His liberty, his life, were in the hands of Cortes. He realized that he must concede every demand, however exacting.

He summoned the notables of his Empire, reminded them of the old prophecy which was now fulfilled, and announced that from now on he and his Empire were subject to the great King of the East to whom sovereignty had descended from their common ancestor. With these words, the tears came to his eyes, showing how great was the sacrifice he was making. There was a low murmur among the assembled Mexicans. Astonishment and indignation were visible on every face, and they appeared ready to maintain the rights of the Empire and their sovereign by force. But Cortes allayed their anger and prevented any outbreak by assuring them his master had no intention of taking his Empire from Montezuma but would be contented to become its protector. This assurance as well as their Emperor’s demeanor quieted them, and the ceremonies which the Spaniards had arranged to make Montezuma’s subjection the more impressive were completed without interruption. Montezuma confirmed his allegiance by making a handsome gift and ordered the caciques of his country to do the same.