Part 10

The adventurers landed on Good Friday, and celebrated Easter on shore with great pomp and solemnity. The intendant of the province brought offerings to the great stranger, and presents were exchanged. Cortés sent to Montezuma a gilt helmet with the message that he hoped to see it back again filled with gold. During the feast native painters were busy depicting every thing they saw to be shown to their royal master. The bearer of this gift and communication, returning swiftly to the court, reported to the monarch that the intention of the stranger was to come at once to the capital of the empire. Montezuma at once assembled a new council of all his great vassals, some of whom urged the reception of Cortés, others his immediate dismissal. The latter view prevailed, and the monarch sent, with more presents to the unknown invader, benevolent but peremptory commands that he should go away immediately. Having sent off the messenger, poor Montezuma retreated to the depths of his palace and refused to be comforted, foreseeing that the great empire of Anahuac was about to fall.

Meanwhile the Spanish camp was feasting and reposing in huts of cane, with fresh provisions, in great joy after the weariness of their voyage. They accepted with enthusiasm the presents of the emperor, but the treasures which were sent had an entirely different effect from that hoped for by Montezuma; they only inflamed the desire of the Spaniard to have all within his grasp, of which this was but a specimen.

It was now that the great mistake in policy was apparent, by which the Aztec chieftain had for years been making enemies all over the country, invading surrounding states, and carrying off prisoners for a horrible death by sacrifice. These welcomed the strangers, and encouraged their presence, thinking they might be valuable allies against the oppressive power of the tyrant. They made a dreadful mistake of course, for Cortés ruined all the native populations of Mexico, while he grasped at the wealth of Montezuma; but the extent of his daring and powers were little imagined at his first coming.

Cortés made himself captain-general of his forces, and established the site of Vera Cruz, the rich city of the True Cross. While reposing here, he was delighted to receive an invitation from the cacique of Cempoallan, "a very fat man, and an enemy of Montezuma," says the chronicle, to enter his domains as a friend, and visit his capital city.

The site of this city, a _pueblo_, is now unknown, one or two places being attributed to it. In fact, the route of Cortés from the coast to the interior has never been thoroughly traced. The account of the place and his reception in it by Cortés, is now thought to be greatly exaggerated; doubtless the satisfaction of finding himself in a place of any comfort, and in hospitable hands, led him to depict the place with glowing colors. He accepted the invitation with alacrity, set forth for Cempoallan, delighted as well as were his men to leave the hot and sandy shores of the Gulf of Mexico for higher ground, fresher air, and finer climate. The next day they entered the city, where they were received as the avengers and liberators of an oppressed country. The first lords of the court, richly dressed, bearing superb bunches of flowers in their hands, came to meet them outside the town, begging Cortés to accept the excuses of their sovereign's health, who would receive them at home, being obliged to give up the pleasure of coming out on account of his extreme fatness.

The reporters of the time of the conquest describe Cempoallan as they do every thing else, with the glow of enthusiasm. They represent themselves amazed at the beauty of the streets, the dazzling whiteness of the houses, and the magnificence of the gardens. All the population came forth to await them, throwing flowers at their feet, presenting garlands and sometimes more valuable gifts.

At Cempoallan, during his visit, Cortés learned of the existence of the republic of Tlaxcalla, hostile to Mexico, and immediately resolved to avail himself of these people if necessary. He determined, in spite of the repeated requests of Montezuma that he should go away, to march to Anahuac, and personally visit the monarch, and he set forth from Cempoallan on the 16th of August, 1519, on his way to Tlaxcalla,--probably taking the road to Jalapa. Jalapa is an old town, over four thousand feet above the level of the sea, with a superb view of the lofty peaks of Orizaba and the Cofre di Perote, covered always with snow, rising behind hills and valleys and lesser mountains; it is probable that the Spaniards regarded less the splendor of the prospect than the difficulties it presented to their passage.

Before leaving the sea-coast, Cortés with great resolution destroyed the greater part of his ships by beaching them. This was to put an end to any scheme of retreat which might have sprung up in the breasts of discontented members of his party. Three months had now passed since he arrived in Mexico. The ships, with the exception of one of the smallest, were destroyed. There was no chance to turn back; and the conqueror boldly prepared for his enterprise.

The body of men which he called his army was composed of 415 infantry, and 16 horses; they took with them 7 cannon. With this handful of men he risked himself in a hostile country, inhabited by people wholly unknown to him in manner and language. He began by destroying his only means of escape, in case of defeat; relying only on his own courage, and the devoted bravery of his little band.

XIV.

MALINTZI.

While Cortés and his followers are resting themselves at Cempoallan, while Montezuma is awaiting their approach with superstitious dread, we will stop to make the acquaintance of the gentle woman who was so important to the daring invader of the heights of Anahuac.

She was born at Païnala, now a picturesque village buried in forests on the borders of the Coatzacoalco River, about 1502. This pueblo, as well as others in its neighborhood, belonged, it is said, to her father, one of the great vassals to the crown, then worn by Montezuma II. Thus the little duchess, for so she might be called, lived until her eleventh year, in ease and comfort. Then her father died, and her mother, marrying again, transferred all her maternal care and affection to a boy, the child of the new union. In order that this boy should inherit the family wealth and estates, reports were spread of the death of the other child. The body of a slave who had just died was substituted for the heiress, and the funeral celebrated with pomp. Meanwhile the disinherited girl was given over or sold to travelling merchants, who in their turn transferred her to the chief of the Tabascans, to whom she became a slave. In the Tabascan kingdom she grew up, and with her great intelligence acquired readily the Mayan language used at Tabasco without forfeiting her native tongue, that spoken at the Aztec court.

Like the Aztec maidens of good birth, she had been carefully trained up to the time when she was abandoned to slavery. Her new position did not reduce her to humiliating tasks, or forced labor, and she probably led a happy life in the soft climate of her new home, surrounded by trees always blossoming, rich vegetation, and new friends, who, although her keepers, were gentle and indulgent after the manner of the Mayan tribes.

In 1519, just as the pretty maiden was reaching her seventeenth year, Cortés arrived at Tabasco. After the first fright of their coming was over, followed by futile efforts at resistance, the Tabascans were willing to make peace. A treaty of alliance was concluded, as we have seen, and with the gifts of the chief to the conqueror, came twenty young slave-girls, whose business it was to grind the corn to make bread for their new masters. Cortés at once ordered that these women should be taught the truths of the Christian religion, and among the rest the heiress of Païnala was converted by Aguilar, and baptized by her new name, Marina. Marina, for the Indians became Malina, as their tongues do not accept the _R_. Afterwards Cortés himself acquired the nickname of Malintzin, that is, the master of Malina, and with them the word Malintzi, or Malinche, has attached itself to her as well.

When the Spaniards again landed, a grave difficulty presented itself. Aguilar, the interpreter, knew Mayan, but not one word did he understand of the Aztec dialect now spoken. Suddenly one of the young women presented by the Tabascan chief was seen conversing fluently with the visitors who crowded round the boats of the new-comers. She was instantly summoned by the commander, and at once became very important as interpreter, translating for Aguilar what he could easily render into Spanish. Through her was transmitted the first message of Montezuma to the dreaded white woman. It makes a pretty picture--this graceful Aztec girl standing between the two parties: on one side the Indians, richly dressed, to impress the stranger, in robes of gay colors, adorned with feathers and ornaments; on the other Cortés, in the armor of the time, assuming all the haughtiness of demeanor possible; grouped about him his band of stalwart followers, curiosity on their features, making up by their eyes for the uselessness of their ears, which were of no use to them for understanding what was going on. The Aztecs speak and announce the will of their monarch. Marina, with intelligence in her glance, listens attentively, then with her grave smile reports the matter to Aguilar. Aguilar must have been in rags, for his long sojourn with the Indians had brought him to a low estate. He gathers the Mayan message from the lips of Marina translated from Nahuatl, and gives it in good sound Spanish to the captain. His reply is conveyed by the same double interpreting back to the messengers. The substance of the colloquy is, on the part of Montezuma, a welcome, and lavish offering of gifts, through which appears his unconcealed anxiety to speed the parting guest. From Cortés the reply of scanty thanks for benefits received, and the determination to press on to the plateau.

If we were allowed to believe good old Bernal Diaz, the visible testimonials of the conference needed no interpreter. The gifts of the messengers are described as splendid--shields, helmets, cuirasses embossed with pure gold ornaments, sandals, fans, crests of gaudy feathers interwoven with gold and silver threads, and strewed with pearls and precious stones. The helmet sent back by Cortés had come again filled to the brim with grains of gold.

Two round plates of gold and silver, as big as carriage wheels, excited the most delight. The gold one represented the sun, and was richly carved with plants and animals. Where are all these things now? So utterly disappeared that many people believe they only existed in the imagination of the chronicler of the Conquest.

No wonder that such startling treasures proved an invitation more potent than the twice translated prayer to go away which accompanied them.

The Spaniards were impatient to move at once. Cortés, charmed with the grace and intelligence of the young interpreter, encouraged her by every sign of favor, and she, young, forlorn, deserted, expanded under the warmth of his kindness and flattery. In a very short time she acquired enough Spanish to interpret directly for her lord and master, who became the object of her intense adoration.

Marina was very beautiful, according to the description of the Spanish chroniclers. If she were at all like the descendants of her race, she wore, doubtless, a white loose garment, embroidered in the square neck and sleeves with red; her black hair was braided in two long tresses interwoven with pearls and coral. Her slightly copper-colored tint was clear enough for a soft play of rose in her cheeks; her large soft eyes beamed, and her white teeth flashed as she smiled; while, for the most part, her oval face remained grave, almost sad, in its expression. She was slight, graceful, with small hands and feet.

From this time forward Malintzi was always at the side of the conqueror, aiding him not only as interpreter, but with her surprising vigilance, and perception of the tendency of events due to the knowledge of the natives. She was always full of courage, and had the endurance of a man, sharing all the sufferings of the little army with patience and even gayety. In fact, she had never been so happy before, and the hardships of the camp were nothing compared with the trials of her earlier life. She witnessed the slaughter of her countrymen with grief, and interceded always in favor of the conquered; but no thought of patriotism troubled her mind as she deliberately surrendered the land to the hands of its enemies.

Later, Malintzi lived to contemplate the ruin she had helped to make, in a time when she had outlived the brief happiness of her sojourn with the Conquistadores. But we will leave her now, full of joy, affection, courage, the proudest, most useful of petted interpreters, in order not to anticipate the current of the story.

XV.

TLAXCALLA.

As we have seen, the little province of Tlaxcalla was situated in an isolated position among the mountains, holding itself independent, and always hostile to the Confederates of the Valley, as the Mexicans and their allies are now called. The Conquistadores describe it as a formidable state, bearing the name of a republic, of ancient origin and advanced civilization. They speak of its capital as a splendid city, divided into four quarters, each governed by an hereditary chieftain, who exercised his authority over a number of dependent villages assigned to him. They give to the little republic, which contained scarcely fifty square miles, the dignity of a confederacy of four separate states with one common head.

In this constant exaggeration we must remember that Cortés was in the hands of the interpreters, one of them Malintzi, who may have used the word for republic when she meant tribe, and splendid city instead of pueblo. We may allow ourselves to think that.

The Tlaxcallans were an orderly, excellent people; to gain the friendship of such a tribe was highly important to the Spanish conqueror. To their loyalty and good faith he applied the arts of his eloquence and bravery, and awaited at a distance the results of an embassy which he sent forward. There was a stormy discussion in the councils of Tlaxcalla, between the chiefs who welcomed allies against their great enemy, Montezuma, and those who feared the intervention of unknown warriors, come from afar, of whose intentions they had no means of judging. Those which prevailed were for a third course, by which a trap was laid for the Spaniards without implicating at first the Tlaxcallans.

Cortés, impatient of delay, pressed forward without waiting for his answer, and found himself, September 2, 1519, before an army of Otomis, a tribe friendly to the Tlaxcallans, whom they had persuaded to attack the strangers, without mixing in the fight themselves. Cortés easily repulsed this savage band, and without pressing his advantage, again attempted negotiations with the republic; but by this time a haughty message was returned to him that "the strangers which the sea had thrown up could come if they chose to the great city, to become sacrifices to the gods and served up at a sacred festival." Cortés, of course, was firm, and on the 5th of September, 1519, took place the first real struggle between the army of the old world, which in this case appeared the new one, and the brave descendants of an ancient race.

The Tlaxcallans, led by the young and brave General Xicotencatl, fought bravely, but the result was in favor of the little band of Spaniards, after a hot contest of but four hours. The Tlaxcallans returned to their city, and consulted their oracle. The head priest pronounced that their enemies were children of the sun, and invincible during the day, while their father was shining in the sky, but that by night they would lose their strength and be like other mortals.

The next night, encouraged by this divine decree, an attack was made, but Cortés was on his guard. The enemy, who, relying on their priests, had imagined they were marching to certain victory, took flight, in abject terror.

After this, the Tlaxcallans made no further resistance. Peace was solemnly concluded, and the republic recognized as a vassal to the crown of Castile, pledging itself to sustain Cortés in all his expeditions. Mass was celebrated, and the conclusion of the treaty was an occasion of great joy. This alliance was absolutely important to Cortés. The Tlaxcallans remained to the end faithful to it; later on, without their support, and their chief city to fall back upon, the conqueror must have inevitably failed in his enterprise.

The Tlaxcallans consented to accept the God of the Christians, but were unwilling to give up their old protecting divinities for fear of appearing ungrateful to them. Cortés insisted upon the abolition of human sacrifices, and himself made a chapel in the palace assigned to him and erected in it the cross. The first mass celebrated there attracted immense crowds, and many natives, especially young girls of good birth, were voluntarily baptized.

The Conquistadores entered Tlaxcalla the 22d of September, receiving demonstrations of the greatest friendship. Here Cortés rested awhile, but only in order to cement his good relations, and to obtain information how best to proceed. He himself is said to have been so ill from fever that he could hardly keep his seat in the saddle, but this man of iron habitually disregarded the troubles of the flesh.

His next step was to Cholula, where he was received with apparent cordiality; but Malintzi's vigilance discovered a plot for the destruction of the Spanish army. Cortés resolved to punish this treachery by an example. He collected all the principal Cholultecas in a large court, accused them of perfidy, and, without listening to explanations, put them to general slaughter, so that "in two hours," according to the letter of Cortés describing the affair, "perished more than three thousand natives." The body of the Tlaxcallans who had joined themselves to this expedition, gathered rich booty from it, and returned home well content with the prowess of their new ally.

Cortés then issued a general pardon. Calm returned to the streets of Cholula, and the people of the surrounding villages poured in to do honor to the terrible conqueror. Emissaries from Mexico, who witnessed this bloody triumph, were not slow to describe it to their sovereign, who became more and more frightened and despairing.

Cortés stayed two weeks in Cholula, before setting out again for Mexico. It was thus early that he received overtures of alliance from Ixtlilxochitl, king of a portion of Texcuco, who was in constant warfare with his brother Cacamatzin. These young men, it will be remembered, were nephews of Montezuma, who, in the quarrel between them had defended the cause of Cacamatzin, so that the neglected brother detested him. Like all the rest of Montezuma's kindred who played into the hands of his enemy, Ixtlilxochitl had later reason to regret his hasty recognition of the stranger, who came to seize and adopt for his own every thing, regardless of small quarrels and petty animosities. This early alliance with one of the neighboring chiefs was of great advantage to Cortés though he scarcely understood then its importance.

Ixtlilxochitl sent ambassadors as far as Tlaxcalla to invite Cortés to pass through his territory on his way to Mexico. Cacamatzin, on the other hand, indignant at the disregard shown to the wishes of his royal uncle by the Europeans, hastened to Texcuco, resolved to collect an army and declare war against them, but Montezuma, with a faithlessness not to be excused by his terror, himself set an ambuscade for his nephew, and handed him over to Cortés, who had him loaded with chains and imprisoned.

Through the influence of Montezuma, Cortés allowed a third son of the late King Nezahualpilli to occupy his throne. This was Cuicuicatzin, twelfth king at Texcuco. He was loyal to the Spaniards. It would seem that he stayed by them even through the terrors of the _noche triste_; and that returning to Mexico after that sad night, being considered, with some reason, to be a spy of the Spaniards, he was killed by the order of the successor of Montezuma.

Followed by a horde of Cholulans and Tlaxcallans, Cortés set out on his difficult journey across the plateau, impeded by tempests and sandstorms. The view they got of the fair valley of Mexico made them forget all their fatigues. At their feet were noble forests; farther on they saw cultivated fields, and in the centre of an immense fertile basin the lakes, bordered with cities and villages; in the middle of the panorama was the city, Mexico the Proud, resting upon its waters, and crowned with towers and pyramidal temples. Above the capital rose, on the hill Chapultepec, the favorite resort of the Mexican monarch, surrounded by its great cypresses. Farther off was seen Texcuco, not less fair than Tenochtitlan, and, round about all, the girdle of irregular mountains which enclose and form this incomparable picture.

Cortés was seized with enthusiasm at the sight. This was his promised land. Boldly he pressed onward to success, in spite of his feeble means.

At Ayotzinco, Cacama came forth to meet the strangers, King of Texcuco, loyal to Montezuma, a splendid young man of twenty-five, richly dressed. He brought presents for the invaders, but urged them even then to turn back. Cortés replied with courtesy but firmness that nothing would deter him from entering Mexico. "In that case," replied Cacama, "I will return to the court"; and without any thing which could be considered an invitation, he withdrew with his suite.

On the 8th of November the Spaniards found themselves on the great avenue leading to the capital. Here Montezuma came to meet them with the greatest splendor, of costume and retinue. Magnificent carpets were spread on the ground, the monarch descended from his palanquin with a bouquet in his hand, supported on either side by his brother and nephew. Cortés approached him with respect and put about his neck a chain of gold ornamented with paltry colored beads.

Montezuma, calm and dignified at this critical moment, welcomed Fernando to his capital, where the gods had long announced his coming. Then he entered his palanquin again, leaving the two princes to escort the Spaniards to the palace he destined to receive them.

The adventurers followed with their eyes the royal _cortége_ as it vanished along a wide street which they describe as lined with sumptuous palaces. No one was looking on in the streets, and the silence of death reigned in the city. By royal command the whole population abstained from coming out to welcome these audacious intruders.

Cortés understood the lesson, and it is said that he then and there made a vow, that if he should escape safely from this enterprise he would erect a church upon that very spot.

He built in fact later the hospice and church of Jesu-Nazareno--in compliance with this vow.

XVI.

LA NOCHE TRISTE.

The ancient palace of Axayacatl was prepared to receive the strangers, within whose walls were ample accommodations for the leaders of the little host.