The White Conquerors: A Tale of Toltec and Aztec

On the next day, in spite of the protests from Montezuma's ambassadors, and the warnings of the Tlascalan counsellors, the white conquerors prepared to resume their march to Tenochtitlan, which they proposed to reach by way of the sacred city of Cholula.

CHAPTER XV.

MARCHING ON CHOLULA

While the Spanish commander had never swerved from his announced determination of penetrating to the very heart of Anahuac, and establishing himself, either by peaceful or warlike means, in its capital city, he was at all times confused by the contradictory advice of the natives as to the route by which he should advance. He had been advised to visit Tlascala, and urged not to do so by those who feared that, after encountering the unconquered armies of the mountain republic, he would be so weakened that the Aztecs would easily destroy him. In this case he had relied solely upon his own judgment, with the results already known. Up to the moment of his triumphal entry into the Tlascalan capital, every embassy from Montezuma, while striving to gain his good-will by lavish and costly gifts, had also endeavored to dissuade him from his purpose of visiting the royal city. The Tlascalans, too, protested against their new allies placing themselves at the mercy of the treacherous Aztec monarch by entering the island city of Tenochtitlan, where they could easily be cut off from all communication with the main land by the simple removal of the bridges on its several causeways. They assured him that the armies of Montezuma covered the continent, so that, in the event of battle, the Aztec king could well afford to allow the Spaniards to exhaust themselves with slaughter, and could then overwhelm them by mere force of numbers.

To this Cortes made the flattering reply, that no one who had been able to withstand the forces of Tlascala, even for a time, need fear all the other armies of the New World.

Finding him thus determined to advance to Tenochtitlan, the Tlascalans still urged him to avoid the perfidious city of Cholula, which, they said, was filled with a crafty priesthood, who would hesitate at no act of treachery for his destruction.

At this juncture two new embassies appeared upon the scene. One came from the Aztec king, bringing an invitation to the white strangers to visit his capital. He urged them not to enter into an alliance with the base and barbarous Tlascalans, whom he proposed shortly to exterminate. He also advised Cortes to travel by the easy and pleasant road leading through the friendly city of Cholula, where he had ordered a fitting reception to be prepared for him. The other embassy was composed of the head men of Cholula itself, and these seconded the king's invitation, at the same time assuring the Spaniards of a cordial welcome to their city.

These embassies had hardly delivered their messages, ere some Tlascalan scouts, returning from the neighborhood of Cholula, reported that a strong Aztec force was marching toward it, and that the inhabitants were actively engaged in strengthening the defences of their city.

Perplexed by the conflicting nature of this advice and these reports, the Spanish leader called a council of his captains; but even they could not agree upon a course of action. Then Sandoval suggested that Huetzin, the young Toltec, be admitted to the council, and that its decision be determined according to his advice. "So far as may be judged," argued the speaker, "he is a Christian like ourselves, but with a better cause than any here to hate the Aztecs, and desire their humiliation. Having lived among them, he must be acquainted with their method of warfare. He has already shown himself a brave youth, possessed of a wisdom uncommon among these barbarians, and has proved his devotion to our interest."

Struck by the force of these words, Cortes agreed to Sandoval's proposition, and sent for the young warrior as well as for Marina, to act as interpreter. Huetzin, greatly wondering for what he might be wanted, promptly obeyed the summons, and listened attentively while the situation was explained to him.

When his turn came to speak, he said to Marina: "Answer my lord Malinche, I pray thee, that my warrior father ever considered an enemy in the rear far more dangerous than one that might be faced. So, in the present case, I would advise that he pass not by Cholula without a visit. To do so would not only place him between two enemies, but would argue a fear of the one left behind. Thus would their confidence in their own strength be increased, and they would be persuaded to a more vigorous enmity."

Which speech being translated by Marina, was received with approval by all the members of the council.

"If I may be permitted to speak further," continued Huetzin, "I would say that if my lord Malinche will permit the Tlascalan warriors, who, under my command, have been chosen to accompany him, to encamp outside the city of Cholula rather than within its walls, I will undertake that no attack nor attempt against his safety shall be made from any quarter, without his previous knowledge."

To this Cortes replied: "Not only do I willingly accede to thy proposal, but such is my confidence in thy prudence and in the fidelity of thy Tlascalan warriors, that I would readily entrust the safety of my army to thy watchfulness. Now, then, gentlemen, having listened to the advice of our well-considered ally of Tlascala, what say you? Shall we visit this city of Cholula on our way to the capital, or shall we pass it by?"

"Let us visit it," was the unanimous answer. And thus it was decided.

During the past week Huetzin's time had not been wholly occupied with the study of Spanish, nor in learning the use of a sword. Upon the earnest representation of Sandoval, Cortes had requested of the Tlascalan senate that the son of Tlahuicol might be appointed to the command of the force they intended to send with him.

They had assigned Xicoten to this expedition, but that general, who regarded the Spaniards with a bitter hatred, claimed that it would be beneath the dignity of the war-chief of the republic to be subject to the orders of a stranger, even the White Conqueror himself, and begged to be relieved of the duty. So the position was left unfilled until Cortes made application for it on behalf of Huetzin. In spite of his youth the young Toltec had been trained for a military life from his childhood by his father, the greatest warrior ever known in Tlascala, and was thus well fitted for the position. Of his bravery there was no question, and, as a son of the house of Titcala, his rank was second to none. Besides all this, the young man possessed an invaluable knowledge of the Aztec capital, gained while a prisoner within its walls. In view of these facts there seemed to be no reason, except his youth and lack of experience as a commander, against Huetzin's appointment, and these were overruled by the request of the all-powerful Spaniard.

Thus, to his amazement and great joy, Huetzin found himself placed in a position, and entrusted with a responsibility, such as most men only gain by long years of diligent and successful service. Not only would it permit him to fight side by side with Sandoval, for whom he had conceived a warm affection, but it clothed him with a power that might be used for the rescue of Tiata, if, indeed, she were still alive. There was also a thought of Marina, but this he strove to banish as being out of keeping with his military duties.

The young chieftain entered his new office with the greatest enthusiasm, and at once set about the selection, from nearly one hundred thousand volunteers, of the six thousand warriors which Cortes desired might accompany the Christian army. He believed that a greater number than this would only embarrass his own movements, while a force of this size might be subjected to a certain amount of drilling that would render them more effective than many times their number of undisciplined troops. In selecting his men Huetzin always chose those who had fought under his father's command, and who, in consequence, embraced the service of Tlahuicol's son with gladness.

As fast as enlisted, these were sent to a camp outside the city, where they were formed into companies of hundreds, each under command of a proved warrior. These companies were assembled into four bodies, or regiments, each containing fifteen hundred warriors, and named after the four great houses or states of the republic. Thus each regiment was entitled to a separate banner, while all were united under that of their young leader. The device chosen by Huetzin as his own was a rock on which stood the white heron of Titcala and a cross typical both of his Toltec origin and his present service. Marina claimed, and was gladly accorded, the privilege of making the first standard of the new alliance. On a blood-red field she embroidered the device in silver thread, and worked at it with such unflagging industry that, greatly to Huetzin's satisfaction, it was finished and ready for display on the morning of the day appointed for departure.

Before daylight on that eventful morning, the young man entered the city and sought his grandfather, that he might receive his blessing before setting forth on this first great undertaking of his life. As the blind chieftain placed his hands on the head of the youth and blessed him, he added:

"My son, wherever thou goest, bear thyself modestly and be not puffed up, though thy station appear exalted among men. Remember always that the greatest is he who commands himself, rather than he who commands others. In time of battle forget not the bravery of thy father, and in the hour of victory recall the tender mercy of thy mother. Now, my son, farewell. Go to thy duty, and may the gods guide thee."

The departure of the army was witnessed by the entire population of the city, and it was accompanied for several miles by thousands who had relatives or friends in its ranks. At length the shining walls of Tlascala disappeared from view, the last of its shouting inhabitants was left behind, and the eventful march, toward the goal from which so many of those now pressing eagerly forward would never return, was begun in earnest. Although the distance from Tlascala to Cholula was but six leagues, so much of the way was over rough ground that it was after noon before the army descended into the great plain of Puebla, and night had fallen ere they camped on the bank of a small stream, within sight of the lofty pyramid and hundreds of smoking temples of the ancient Toltec city.

The next morning the Spaniards, leaving Huetzin and his Tlascalans in camp where they were, marched on amid ever-increasing throngs of eager sightseers, who, filled with an intense curiosity concerning the wonderful strangers, poured from the city gates by thousands. As the conquerors entered the city they, in turn, were filled with admiration at its cleanliness, the width and regularity of its streets, the solidity of its buildings, the number of its temples, the intelligent and civilized aspect of its people, and the richly embroidered mantles of its higher classes. They were also astonished at the surprising number of what they supposed were beggars, but who, as they afterward learned, were, in reality, pilgrims, attracted to this point from every corner of Anahuac by the fame of Quetzal, a god who was enshrined on the great pyramid of Cholula.

CHAPTER XVI.

A SACRIFICE OF CHILDREN, AND WHAT IT PORTENDED

As the ancient capital of his father's race, Huetzin regarded the city of Cholula with an intense interest. It was a source of real sorrow to him that it, rather than another, should be selected as the sacred city of the Aztec priests. His eyes blazed with indignation on seeing the flames of Aztec altars rising from the mighty pyramid erected by his Toltec ancestors, a thousand years before, in honor of their bloodless religion.

This most colossal monument of the New World rose to a height of two hundred feet, and its base covered forty-four acres, an area twice as great as that occupied by the Egyptian pyramid of Cheops. It was a venerable pile when the Aztecs took possession of the land and erected on its summit a magnificent temple, which they dedicated to Quetzal. With the advent of their cruel religion began those daily human sacrifices that drenched its altars with blood for two centuries, or until the coming of the white conquerors. Other temples sprang up about that of Quetzal, each demanding human victims, until the number of those annually sacrificed, in Cholula alone, was over six thousand.

No sooner was Huetzin left with his command than he began to put into practice some of the lessons he had learned from his new friends. His first care was to establish a chain of sentinels and advanced pickets about his camp. Then he sent out small scouting parties in various directions to glean all possible information regarding any other troops that might be discovered in that neighborhood. Finally, after darkness had fallen, disguising himself in the coarse and mud-stained garments of a maker of pottery, whom he had caused to be captured for this purpose, he made his own way into the city.

Once among the streets he avoided those places in which the Spaniards were being lavishly entertained by the caciques of Cholula, and threaded the more distant but populous quarters. He was struck with the number of people still at work, in spite of the lateness of the hour. Masons appeared to be repairing house-walls in all directions, and quantities of stone were being carried to the roofs for their use. Laborers were making excavations in the streets, apparently for foundations; woodchoppers were hewing numbers of posts into sharp-pointed stakes. Many old people, women, and children were also to be seen, and all of these appeared to be removing household goods.

At length, in the most remote part to which he penetrated, Huetzin came upon that which caused his blood to boil, and, at the same time, filled him with horror. Several hundred persons were grouped about the entrance to a small temple. They were silent, almost to breathlessness, and were evidently intent upon some scene being enacted within. Every now and then a stifled cry, apparently that of a child, came from the interior of the temple.

Determined to discover what was taking place, Huetzin, by patient and persistent effort, finally forced his way to the very front rank of the spectators, and in another moment was as anxious to make good his retreat from this position as he had been to gain it. For fully a minute he was so tightly wedged in by the eager throng about him that to move was impossible, and he gazed with a horrible fascination at the awful scene disclosed through the open doorway by the flickering light of its lurid altar flames. It was a scene of human sacrifice, though not one of such every-day occurrence that the spectators were wholly hardened to it. It was a sacrifice of children; and, as one pitiful little victim after another was roughly seized by the blood-stained priests and laid beneath the merciless knife, a suppressed shudder passed through the gaping throng. Still no manifestation of disapproval was made, and every eye eagerly followed the motions of an aged priest, whose scanty white locks were blood-reddened like his body, and to whom each little heart was handed still palpitating, as it was torn from a child's breast. He was an augur, and was watched with a breathless interest as he sought for omens from the dread thing held in his hand. As each was tossed aside, evidently unpropitious, a murmur of disappointment arose from the spectators, and more than once Huetzin heard the remark: "The hour is not yet come."

Finally, sick with horror, and raging with a furious anger, the young Toltec could bear it no longer. With a stifled cry he burst through the encircling throng of human wolves, and in spite of angry words and even blows, forced his way into the open space beyond them. When once more free he fled, he knew not whither, filled with a tumult of thought the central idea of which was vengeance. At length he reached his own camp, heart-sick, and exhausted by the strength of his emotions. Here he received the reports of his scouting parties, and learned several things, which, added to his own information, kept him in a state of wakeful anxiety until morning.

At the earliest possible hour he sought an audience with the Spanish leader, to whom he imparted his fears that some deep-laid plot for the destruction of the invaders at this point was in preparation. He told Cortes of the Aztec army discovered by his scouts hidden in a valley but a short distance from the city; of the exodus of those too old or feeble to fight; of the piles of stones secretly accumulated on the house-tops adjoining certain streets; of the pits dug in those same streets and artfully concealed, after being lined with sharp-pointed stakes; of the various chance expressions that he had overheard; and of the awful, but unusual, sacrifice of children of which he had been an unwilling eye-witness. At the same time he expressed it as his belief that the hour had not yet come for springing the trap thus set. It was evident that the portents were not yet favorable, and everything seemed to be awaiting further orders, probably from Montezuma himself. From the nature of the preparations it seemed likely that nothing would be undertaken until the Spaniards were ready to leave the city and continue their march.

Marina, who interpreted this communication, added some suspicions of a similar character, that she had gleaned from certain unguarded utterances of the wife of a Cholulan cacique, with whom she had formed an acquaintance.

Although the conqueror was not one to be easily alarmed, yet he was prudent and ever on the watch for treachery among those surrounding him. So important did he deem the information just given him, that he at once doubled his precautions against a surprise. After thanking the young leader of Tlascalans for his vigilance, he requested him to return to his own camp, continue his work of acquiring a knowledge of what was taking place in and about the city, and to hold his warriors in readiness for instant action.

When Huetzin had departed, Cortes turned his attention to his immediate surroundings. He ordered that no Spaniard should pass beyond the walls of the temple enclosure in which they were quartered. Nor should one lay aside his arms, on any pretext, for a moment. The horses of the cavaliers were kept saddled and bridled, ready for instant service, and the artillery was posted beside the three gateways in the temple walls, in a position to sweep the streets leading to them.

While these preparations were being made, Marina's new acquaintance, the garrulous wife of the cacique, came to pay her a visit. In a short time the Indian girl, pretending to be anxious to escape from the Spaniards, had drawn from her a full account of the conspiracy, which, she said, originated with Montezuma. The Christians, on attempting to leave the city, were to be led into the streets prepared with pitfalls, into which it was expected the cavalry would be precipitated. In the resulting confusion they were to be attacked from the housetops and by the Aztec army that was in waiting, when their easy destruction was deemed a certainty. Even a division of the anticipated captives had already been made, and, while a certain number were to be retained for sacrifice on Cholulan altars, the remainder were to be led in triumph to Tenochtitlan, in the leathern collars, affixed to the ends of stout poles, that were even then prepared for them.

Having agreed to a plan for taking flight to the house of this talkative acquaintance that night, Marina dismissed the woman and hastened to lay the plot before Cortes. The latter, summoning his captains, disclosed it to them and asked their advice as to what course should be pursued. Some of them, in despair at the imminence of the threatened peril, advised an instant return to Tlascala, if not to the coast. Sandoval, Alvarado, and others of stouter hearts, declaring that such a retreat would certainly insure their destruction, advised that in boldly facing the danger, and continuing their onward march at all hazards, lay their only safety. Cortes agreed with this, and added that at no time since they entered the land of Anahuac had the thought of retreat been further from his mind than now.

He then sent for some of the Cholulan caciques and announced his intention of leaving their city early on the following morning. He desired that they should furnish him with a thousand porters for the transport of his artillery and baggage, and should themselves act as his guides to the limits of their domain. These requests they willingly promised to grant, and were dismissed.

That night there was little sleep in the Spanish army, and all held themselves in readiness for an attack. The period of darkness was, however, passed in peace, and through the night no sound broke the stillness of the city, save the hoarse voices of the priests proclaiming the hour from the summit of its lofty teocallis.

CHAPTER XVII.

PUNISHMENT OF THE CONSPIRATORS

Cortes had determined to anticipate the treachery of the Cholulans and the meditated destruction of his army, by a punishment so terrible that its effect should be felt throughout all Anahuac. He intended that a wholesome dread of the white conquerors should be implanted in every Aztec breast. By earliest dawn he was on horseback, perfecting his arrangements for the coming tragedy. The musketeers and cross-bowmen were placed close under the walls of the temple courtyard, and the pikemen were stationed near the three entrances. Here, too, the gunners, under command of Mesa, chief of artillery, renewed their primings and blew their matches into a brighter glow. The cavalry, headed by Cortes in person, was held in reserve to act as emergencies should dictate.

At the same time, silent but active preparations were being made in all parts of the city, though, of course, unseen by the Spaniards, for their destruction. As every Cholulan to whom the secret was known fondly hoped, the hour was at hand in which the boasted prowess of these invaders should come to naught and they should be sacrificed to the wrath of the Aztec gods. Everywhere the exulting natives swarmed to the housetops along the designated line of march, and stationed themselves near the ample stores of missiles already gathered; or they collected in armed bodies, whispering, but jubilant over the perfection of their plans, in the side streets, from which they were to leap, like mountain lions, on their helpless prey. The Aztec army, secretly prepared for this emergency, entered the city, and so swelled the number of assailants that no Cholulan doubted for a moment as to which side should be granted the victory in the coming conflict. So, impatiently and joyously, they awaited the signal with which their triumph would begin.

Outside the city Huetzin's grim Tlascalans, each with a fillet of grass bound about his head to distinguish him from an Aztec or a Cholulan, awaited the signal that should send them into action with an equal impatience. They too were without a doubt as to the result of the battle. Had they not fought against the white conquerors? and did they not know, from bitter experience, the extent of their terrible powers? What would avail the puny efforts of the pottery-making Cholulans against beings before whom even the mountain warriors of Tlascala could not stand? That they should dare, for a moment, to oppose the white conquerors, to say nothing of themselves, was a subject for scornful mirth in the Tlascalan camp. As for Huetzin, he was filled with the nervous anxiety of a young commander about to engage in his first battle. Of this, however, he effectually concealed all traces in the presence of his warriors, to whom he presented a calm and cheerful countenance. His friend and brother, Sandoval, had urged him to don a cap of steel, such as were worn by the conquerors themselves; but this, Huetzin had firmly declined, saying that he would wear no armor that could not be equally shared by his warriors. Now, therefore, he was clad as they were, in a doublet of quilted cotton, and wore on his head a simple fillet of grass. Above it waved the graceful plume of a white heron, which, with his Spanish sword, formed the distinguishing badges of his rank.

The sun had hardly risen before the Cholulan Caciques, who were to guide the Spanish army through the city streets, presented themselves at the temple and were admitted. They were followed by a thousand or more of tamanes, who, as the quick eye of Cortes instantly detected, were all armed with weapons, of one kind or another, thrust into their girdles. These were halted in the centre of the court, while the Caciques advanced, with smiling faces and complimentary words, to where the Spanish commander sat on his gray steed. Their smiles were quickly exchanged for expressions of consternation; for, with scornful words, Cortes began to charge them with their treachery, and showed himself to be acquainted with all the details of their conspiracy. He recalled the apparent friendliness with which they and their king had invited him to Cholula, and the mask of hospitality with which they had covered their base designs. Now he demanded to know what they had to say for themselves, and whether any form of punishment could be too severe for such perfidy.