Part 9

Now let us try to imagine this young heir to a splendid kingdom, just ascending the steps of the throne, clothed in all the majesty which the customs of his country allowed. Soft robes of well chosen colors hung about him, and over all the beautiful mantle of feather-work which the Aztecs knew how to make out of the plumage of all the brilliant tropical birds within their reach. There was no stint of splendor in his ornaments, neck, wrists, ankles enclasped with gold, and set with precious stones. A superb head-dress, over which waved a bunch of feathers, stuck with sparkling jewels, added dignity to his haughty carriage and grave features.

One hundred years of successful government had made the Aztecs proud. Their enemies feared them. Surrounding nations sought their friendship for the sake of peace. The great house of Texcuco had allied itself with their king in marriage. Mingled in the veins of Montezuma with the savage blood of the worshippers of Huitzilopochtli, the terrible god of war, was a gentler strain of the delicate culture of the family of Nezahualcoyotl. The career of the young monarch seemed clear before him; it was to be a life of stirring excitement in battle,--a warfare not for conquest or slaughter on the field, but a holy enterprise to bring back the necessary material for sacrifice to the gods, in whom he believed so firmly that the horror of such wholesale destruction of life made not the slightest impression. In the Aztec wars their enemies were seldom killed in battle; the great object was to save prisoners alive, in order to lay them upon their altars.

But these fearful raids upon surrounding populations were only episodes in the life he proposed to himself. He inherited a splendid palace in a great city; for although we are now taught to consider the accounts of Tenochtitlan given by the Spaniards as grossly exaggerated, we must accept the assumption that in the estimation of himself and his people his palace was splendid, and that the city was great, and upon this foundation, since the Spanish statements are unreliable, and accurate information is lacking, we may draw upon fancy to fill up the picture.

All splendor is comparative; the halls of the Montezumas, never in contact with the palaces of the Old World, were to be judged upon a scale of their own. Tenochtitlan was, undoubtedly, the richest city upon Anahuac. It was built, like Venice, in the midst of waters, upon an island intersected with canals, and communicating with the mainland by means of four broad causeways. An aqueduct from Chapultepec brought fresh water, as the lake was brackish. The streets were laid out in straight lines and at right angles, following the direction of the causeways; some of them were the intersecting canals themselves, with houses facing at once upon the water, and on the other side the street. Upon the canals floated canoas for pleasure or business, coming from the suburbs laden with food, vegetables, and fruit, the cargo heaped always with a profusion of flowers, bright-hued poppies, sweet peas, and the deep-red blossoms of clover. Above the houses, which were not high, with flat roofs, or _azoteas_, rose the lofty teocalli, and the walls of the royal palace which dominated the other buildings.

Bernal Diaz, the companion of Cortés, who is charged with much garrulity and exaggeration, says that when the Spaniards arrived at the great causeway leading to the capital they paused, struck with admiration on seeing so many cities and villages rising from the soil, with the splendid highway, perfectly level, stretching on to Mexico. They compared the scene to the enchanted castles described in "Amadis of Gaul," and as they gazed at the lofty towers, the great temples, and the white buildings gleaming in the sun and reflected in the waters of the lake, they asked each other if it was not all a dream. The old chronicler ends his account with this brief remark: "Now, the whole of this city is destroyed and not a bit of it left standing."

The life that Montezuma proposed to himself was one of enjoyment and pleasure. Upon his people he wasted little thought. The country was prosperous and they were happy, always a docile and domestic population busy with agriculture, their crops, and their families. It is said that he used to go out among them like the Sultan in the "Arabian Nights," disguised, to see what the occupations of his subjects were, and hear what they talked about. But this must have been chiefly to fill up his time, for there was no danger of sedition or conspiracy among the citizens of his capital. A walk _incognito_ outside its walls, through the lanes of any one of the surrounding pueblos would have revealed to him a state of hostility and a longing for his overthrow which might have taught him something for the future.

In the palace was luxurious living; fruits of the warmer climate, and even fresh fish from the Gulf, it is said, were brought by swift-footed runners up the steep path that the steam-engine now requires fourteen hours to climb; music and the enjoyment of society, occupied leisure hours. The state correspondence of the Aztec court consisted in picture writings brought by messengers from all parts of the country, depicting in realistic forms the events requiring attention. Montezuma could go to the lovely Grasshopper Hill over the fine causeway under the aqueduct built by his ancestors; not as the gay, fashionable world now makes the excursion on horseback before breakfast, for air and exercise, but carried in a palanquin by four strong bearers. It has been thought that the Aztec kings had a royal villa at Chapultepec; but the wise men have given that up now, because they find no traces of any. Lately, however, have been discovered fragments of the effigy of Ahuitzotl, Montezuma's uncle and predecessor, who was doubtless buried there. It was carved in half-relief, a full-length figure life-size, stretched out on a ledge of natural rock. The carving is much mutilated, the top having been blasted off apparently, but beneath, distinctly visible, is the date corresponding to 1507, with the name, Ahuitzotl.

This chieftain died in 1502. The monument was erected therefore by the direction of his successor, Montezuma, in the spot well-beloved by all generations of Aztecs, under the trees protected and guarded by them.

There is now standing an ancient cypress, or _ahuehuete_, huge among the other great trees of the grove, which goes by the name of Montezuma's cypress. Its gnarled trunk must measure more than ten feet across, and its branches themselves are as big as trees. The leaves of this great tree are small and delicate, like those of the acacia; they hang from slender stems drooping over the great limbs down to the ground. Long trailing gray moss now droops from the branches, which, with the dense foliage, shuts out the rays of the sun, so that a gloomy half-light pervades the place. Perhaps it was more cheerful in the heyday of Mexico, or did coming events cast their shadows before, as Montezuma paced those silent alleys?

It may well have been, for misfortunes began to obscure the sky of his prosperity like little clouds coming up on the horizon. His almost constant wars were not always successful. Each victory left behind it bitterness and discontent, so that the same field had soon to be fought over again. In 1516, Nezahualpilli, the wise sovereign of Texcuco, who had always been a safe and strong adviser of the Aztec king, during his long reign of forty-four years, left the kingdom to the eldest of four sons, Cacamatzin; the honor was coveted by another son, Ixtlilxochitl, who contested the throne. Montezuma took the side of Cacamatzin, as rightful heir, in a civil war. The matter was settled by a division. Cacamatzin kept that part of the kingdom of the Aculhuas which stretched south of the capital Texcuco; while his rebellious brother obtained the part towards the north, among the mountains. This division of the kingdom becomes important to us by and by.

About this time all minds in Anahuac were occupied by sinister presages, constantly repeated, of dreadful events soon to occur. Temples were in flames, comets appeared unexpectedly; there were inundations, earthquakes all over the land, and the people dreamed strange dreams.

Above all hovered the rumor that men of great stature, white and with beards, were on their way to subjugate all the nations of the earth. This rumor was perfectly in accordance with the universal tradition about Quetzalcoatl (the Bright Shining Serpent), the bearded white man, clothed in raiment covered with crosses, who had taught the Toltecs awe, industry, and skill. He predicted with supreme authority before he disappeared from them, the arrival of men white and bearded as he was, who would take possession of the country, and destroy their temples and their gods.

This event was a part of the Mexican belief, a something in the future to be hoped for in a certain way, yet dreaded as the inception of great changes in the manners of the people. The races subjugated by the power of Montezuma might look forward to the coming of the strangers as to deliverance; but that monarch himself became penetrated with the conviction that his wealth and prosperity were to disappear in the course of his lifetime.

This foreboding took possession of his mind and undermined its peace; he became unhappy and brooded over his fate as he wandered among the gloomy cypresses of Chapultepec. He had consulted the wise Nezahualpilli before his death upon the meaning of the portents which pervaded the air, but from him he had received no consolation. The sage shook his head gravely, and when urged, confirmed his fears by translating these prodigies as warnings of the downfall of empires.

It might well be that these things pervaded the air, for it was twenty-five years at the time of Nezahualpilli's death since Columbus had set foot on American soil. The strange apparition of white men armed with thunder and lightning, would be sure to spread from mouth to mouth and from nation to nation. The fleet-footed messengers of the Mexican king would be sure to bring such news along with fresh fish and fruit up from the shores of the Gulf. And while these things were more and more weighing upon the king's mind, there came the report, swift, certain, and not to be denied, that men in boats had landed by the river Tabasco.

Twenty years after the discovery of the Antilles by Columbus, these islands were fully under the control of the Spanish. Cuba, the most important of them, was a flourishing colony, under the administration of Diégo Velasquez de Léon.

In 1517, three Spanish adventurers armed three vessels of discovery at Cuba. The governor Velasquez joined himself to this enterprise. These explorers discovered the eastern point of Yucatan, which they named Cape Catoche, after a wood which they heard spoken of by one of the natives. They were filled with amazement at the civilization of the buildings and the costumes, and hastened to land, but being received by a shower of arrows they as quickly went back to their boats. At Campeche they were received more kindly, and exchanged gifts with the natives. Later, Cordova, the leader of this expedition, was wounded in an encounter with the natives, and returning to Havana died ten days after. Velasquez heard from the others such an account of the wealth and resources of Yucatan, that he resolved to take possession of it.

He sent out a little squadron in the charge of Juan de Grijalva, one of his relatives, to make further explorations. They coasted along the shore of Yucatan, admiring its fertile fields and the cities and villages in the midst of them, soon arriving at the mouth of the Tabasco River. At first the natives seemed inclined to give them a rough reception, but Grijalva propitiated them by friendly messages, and on disembarking met a brilliant reception. Green copal was burnt before him, in the way of incense, and the natives brought him game, fish, and corn-bread. The prince made him a present of some gold necklaces and ornaments carved in the shape of birds and lizards.

Grijalva and his followers came next into the country belonging to the Mexican crown, and saw for the first time the royal standard of Montezuma, with the nopal and the eagle. They now for the first time began to hear of this great prince, and of the riches of Anahuac.

Such were the tidings brought to the poor Montezuma, already depressed by vague forebodings. He received the news with positive anguish, as he contemplated the evidences of their power. Reporters at Tabasco had already prepared on great maguey canvasses graphic pictures of the ship of the strangers, their costumes and arms, which were hurried with telegraphic promptness to the great sovereign in his capital.

The council was assembled. It met in dismay. Finally they decided to send to the shore an embassy laden with gifts of gold, feathers, and splendid stuffs, but bearing messages urging them not to penetrate farther into the country, where they would be exposed to constant danger. The messengers were charged to lay great stress on the difficulties and perils of travel in these regions. Thus, while they tempted with one hand full of gifts, they repulsed with the other. Temptation and warning were for the moment unheeded. When they reached the coast, Grijalva, who had no authority from Velasquez to involve him in negotiations with the Aztec monarch, had sailed away.

XIII.

CORTÉS.

Fernando Cortés was born in 1485 at Medellin, the principal town of the province of Estramadura, in Spain. His father was a gentleman of old blood, but poor. He sent his son to the University of Salamanca, but Fernando had no taste for study, and of his own will entered the army, with the intention of serving under the great captain Gonsalvo of Cordova in the campaign of Naples, but an injury caused by falling from a roof prevented his starting with the fleet. As soon as he was well enough he set off in quest of adventure for the West Indies, then a new and tempting discovery, and joined a relative in St. Domingo, who happened to be governor there. This was in 1504. He passed several years there, and in 1511 accompanied Diégo Velasquez to Cuba when the latter was appointed to colonize that island.

The contemporaries of Fernando Cortés draw an attractive portrait of him. He was well built and skilful in all manly exercises. The wonderful beauty of his glance enhanced the charm to his fine and regular features. With unequalled bravery he combined wonderful penetration which never failed him. He was eloquent and persuasive, with the faculty of making himself beloved and respected by all who surrounded him, over whom he exercised an irresistible influence. His conceptions were vast; he never renounced a project after he had recognized it as practicable, but he tempered his audacity of design with an extreme prudence in execution. Reverses he endured with heroism, while he never suffered himself to be made giddy by his successes. The inviolable fidelity which Cortés preserved towards his legitimate sovereigns tempered his personal ambition, great as it was, and his love of money though great did not prevent his showing liberality when the interest of his glory demanded it.

This is the bright side of the picture: great defects of character tarnish it. His acts of cruelty towards his enemies, and his greed of plunder are not to be overlooked in forming an estimate of this wonderful man.

Velasquez had already sent an expedition of discovery towards the west, and Grijalva, its leader, had entered the river of Tabasco, where he disembarked, but, feeling he had no authority to treat with the natives, he returned to report what he had seen and ask further instructions.

Velasquez was displeased with Grijalva for this moderation, without appreciating a loyalty which he regarded as stupidity; and excited by the accounts of the new country, he resolved upon another undertaking in the same direction. He sent to Spain to ask for wider powers, and to obtain for himself the government of the lands he expected to conquer. He offered the command of this expedition to several of his relatives. They all refused it. It was then that he addressed himself to Fernando Cortés.

There is a story that Cortés was in love with a young lady named Doña Catalina Juarez, who afterwards became his wife, and that the governor, Velasquez, also devoted to the Doña, subjected his brilliant rival to a terrible persecution, and even had him seized and put in prison, that Cortés escaped and took refuge in the church, a few days afterwards he was again seized, and then incarcerated in a ship with a chain about his foot. Escaping in a skiff and afterwards by swimming he reached the shore and again hid himself in a sanctuary. In the end he married Doña Catalina, goes this tale, was reconciled with the governor, and made Alcalde of Santiago de Cuba.

However this may have been, Cortés received and accepted the commission now offered. His reputation for bravery and great popularity gathered about him young and old, the bold spirits of Cuba, some among them former companions of Grijalva in his expedition; Bernal Diaz, the first historian of the Conquest, Olid, Alvarado, and other men of the greatest bravery, destined to play great parts in the epic of the New World.

Velasquez, even before the departure of his commander, began to distrust him, jealous again of his great powers, but they parted on good terms, and Cortés embarked at San Jago de Cuba on the 18th November, 1518. He had not gone far when an emissary of Velasquez was sent after the expedition to arrest Cortés, but encouraged by his companions, who urged him to remain at their head, he sent off the messenger and started without taking any further notice of the jealousy of his chief.

The squadron of Cortés was composed of eleven small vessels. There were 110 sailors, 553 soldiers, of which thirteen were armed with muskets, and thirty-two with arquebuses, the others with swords and pikes only. There were ten little field-pieces, and sixteen horses. Such were the forces with which the bold adventurer set forth to conquer a vast empire, defended by large armies, not without courage, according to the report of Grijalva. But the companions of Cortés were unfamiliar with fear. Cortés followed the same route as Grijalva. At Cozumel, an island off Yucatan, he learned by signs from the natives that white captives, with beards, had been lately seen by them. Cortés left a letter for these men with a boat and some soldiers, and the result was their finding a white man named Jérome d' Aguilar, whom they restored to liberty. He told them that he was a native of Ecija, in Spain, ship-wrecked in 1511, seven years before. Thirteen of his companions escaped drowning and starvation, only to be exposed to the danger of being eaten by Mayas, from which also they escaped by the toleration of a cacique, who treated them well. All the rest died but one, and this one refused to join Cortés, having a wife and children, his face tattoed, and wearing ear-rings. He preferred to continue in the way of life first forced upon him, but Aguilar gladly joined the adventurers, and proved a valuable acquisition, for though he knew but little of the country, he had much to tell of the manners and customs of the people, and moreover served as interpreter, of which the commander was in sore need. During his long captivity, Aguilar had acquired the language of the country, and could now bring Cortés into communication with its inhabitants.

At the Tabasco River, which the Spanish called Rio de Grijalva, because that explorer had discovered it, they had a fight with some natives who resisted their approach. These natives fought bravely, but the fire-arms, and above all the horses, which they conceived to be of one piece with their riders, caused them extreme terror, and the rout was complete. According to Spanish tradition, the Christian soldiers saw at the opening of the battle their patron, Saint James, mounted on a white horse, and fighting for them. This not only inspired them with bravery, but their adversaries with fear, so that they fled in alarm. The native prince, overcome, sent gifts to the conqueror, and, without much knowing the extent of his agreement, acknowledged himself as vassal of the king of Spain, the most powerful monarch of the world.

Cortés passed in this place Palm Sunday, urging Aguilar, who called himself a deacon of the church, to explain to the prince and the lords of the land the mysteries of religion, and to make them comprehend the vanity of worshipping idols. The anniversary was then solemnized, with high mass, received with grave reverence by the natives, much impressed by the ceremonies of the strange religion.

Meanwhile a brief calm had settled over the court and capital of Mexico. The white-faced strangers had left the coast, and it was to be hoped they might never come back. The nobles took up their train of pleasure and the common people went on with their peaceable, happy lives, floating over the canals with their produce-laden, flower-heaped boats, singing low chants of the past in a melancholy, minor key, peculiar to the Mexican music.

But one day, in the end of March, 1519, swift messengers came up the steep ascent between the tropical flat shore and the cool plateau of Anahuac, and demanded instant audience with the king. Montezuma knew well what was coming. During the interval since the departure of the white men, he had felt that it was only a respite, and that the terror of their presence was only a premonition of worse things to come. So he received the messengers with a calm smile, and simply said to them: "Speak." These messengers were wonderfully well informed. Without giving the precise details we now know, they could describe the conflict, the terror of the Tabascans, and above all the strange animals, unlike any thing they had seen before, which bore their riders into battle, perhaps, in fact, a part of the same machinery, turning, plunging, advancing as if by magic, and, as they thought, invulnerable to all weapons. Also the thunder and lightning of the new-comers was something supernatural, destructive flashes of fire under their control, accompanied by a bursting sound, and followed by instant death.

These tidings appeared incredible, yet must be believed, and, what was more, acted upon. The king, after due counsel with his advisers, resolved to send envoys, as before, to the strangers. The presents prepared for Grijalva, which had reached the shore too late, were, alas! all ready. To these were now added the ornaments used in the decoration of the image of Quetzalcoatl, on days of solemnity, regarded as the most sacred among all the possessions of the royal house of Mexico.

Cortés accepted the rôle of Quetzalcoatl and allowed himself to be decorated with the ornaments belonging to that god without hesitation. The populace were convinced that it was their deity really returned to them. A feast was served to the envoys, with the accompaniment of some European wine which they found delicious.