The White Conquerors: A Tale of Toltec and Aztec
TextCHAPTER XIX.
MONTEZUMA WELCOMES THE CONQUERORS TO TENOCHTITLAN
As the white conquerors descended by easy stages into this marvellous valley, making frequent pauses to admire the fertility of its fields, or the beauty of its white-walled villages nestled in green nooks, they were everywhere hailed by the people of the country as deliverers from the harsh tyranny of Montezuma. These received the all-powerful strangers with shouts and songs of rejoicing, at the same time showering upon them gifts of food and flowers. Thus, the march resembled the return of a victorious army rather than one of invasion and conquest. They were also met by another of Montezuma's numerous embassies bearing, as usual, gifts of gold, jewels, and rich mantles of fur or exquisite feather-work. Threats and persuasions having proved unavailing to check the progress of the conquerors, Montezuma was reduced to bribery as a last resort. This embassy brought the offer of two hundred pounds of gold to Cortes, fifty to each of his captains, and an annual tribute to the Spanish king if the strangers would return whence they came.
When this offer was refused, as all others had been, and it became clear that nothing would check the victorious advance of the Christians, the Aztec monarch shut himself up in his palace, refused food, and devoted himself to prayer and sacrifice. He saw his mighty kingdom slipping from him, and, with a fatal superstition that forbade him to oppose the will of the gods, he refused to make an effort for its defence. Cuitlahuac, his warlike brother, Guatamotzin, his impetuous nephew, and others of the bolder spirits among his nobles, urged him to summon his armies and make at least one heroic effort to save his tottering throne. Tlalco, the Toltec priest, who had so worked upon the king's weak nature as to become his chief adviser, said: "Leave to the gods the honor of annihilating these unbelievers in their own good time," and the king listened to the voice of the priest.
So Montezuma prepared to send forth his last embassy to the advancing conquerors, and ordered Cacama, Prince of Tezcuco, with a noble retinue, to meet and welcome them to Mexico. This meeting took place amid the beautiful gardens and stately residences of the royal city of Iztapalapan, situated between the fresh waters of Lake Chalco and the salt flood of the broad Tezcuco. Here the Spaniards were entertained with regal splendor, and here they passed the last night before entering the capital.
Never did nature assume a fairer aspect than when, on the following morning, the clear-voiced Spanish trumpets set the little army in motion for the final march of their eventful progress through the land of Anahuac. A mere handful of men, cut off from all communication with their own race, they had traversed the breadth of a wealthy and populous kingdom, overcome its hostile armies, captured one after another of its strongholds, and were now about to make a triumphant entry into its capital city. Their record was without a parallel in the history of the world. Thus it was with swelling hearts and a proud bearing that they stepped on the superb stone causeway spanning the waters of the salt lake, at the distant end of which lay the queenly city of Tenochtitlan.
This causeway was one of the noblest works of New World civilization. Constructed of huge blocks of stone, it was wide enough for ten horsemen to ride abreast, and stretched for more than a league, in a perfectly straight line, across the lake. At several points it was cut by canals for the passage of boats, and these were crossed by drawbridges, which, when lifted, barred all communication by land with the city. Midway of its length stood Xoloc, a stone fort of immense strength, flanked by towers, and giving passage through a battlemented gateway.
At this point, as the Spaniards advanced with silken banners streaming bravely out in the fresh morning air, burnished mail, and glittering weapons, proudly prancing steeds and rumbling guns, they were met by immense throngs of spectators, who had poured from the city to witness the strangest sight ever beheld in Anahuac. Not only did the astonished natives line both sides of the causeway with dense walls of curious humanity, but the waters of the lake were alive with thousands of their canoes. With equal, but restrained, curiosity did the Spaniards gaze on them; on the wonderful floating islands that, covered with a luxuriant vegetation, and even with miniature forests, appeared on both sides, gently undulating with the swell of the waves, and upon the vast extent of the stately city they were nearing.
As they approached the end of the causeway, and crossed its last bridge, they perceived the brilliant retinue of the king advancing to meet them, and halted to receive it. The royal palanquin, plated with burnished gold, was surrounded by a glittering throng of nobles, four of whom, barefooted, with downcast eyes and walking with slowly measured pace, supported it on their shoulders. Four others bore aloft the royal canopy of brilliant featherwork, powdered with jewels and fringed with gold. It was preceded by three princes bearing golden wands, and having robes of the most exquisite plumage thrown over their golden armor.
When the dazzling train had reached a convenient distance it halted, and Montezuma, descending from his litter, advanced on foot, leaning on the lords of Tezcuco and Iztapalapan. He was still shaded by the feathered canopy, and his golden sandals touched only the rich tapestry spread down before him by attendant nobles. His thronging subjects prostrated themselves to the ground as he passed, and no eye dared gaze on his countenance.
The king was simply clad in a broad embroidered maxtlatl, or waist sash, and the voluminous tilmatli, or Aztec cloak; but above his head, held in place by a golden fillet, nodded a panache of green plumes, such as he alone might wear.
Dismounting from his horse, and tossing his reins to a page, Cortes, attended by Sandoval and Alvarado, stepped forward to meet the monarch. As they came face to face these two gazed for a moment, in silence and with a curious interest, at each other. Then Montezuma welcomed his guests with a kingly courtesy, and announced that his brother, the Prince Cuitlahua, would conduct them to the quarters prepared for their reception.
His words being translated by Marina, Cortes responded with a few courtly expressions of profound respect, hung about the king's neck a glistening chain of colored crystals, and the momentous interview came to an end.
Montezuma, returning through the prostrate ranks of his people, re-entered his litter and was borne back into the city with the same state in which he had left it. The Spaniards followed with colors flying, drums and trumpets arousing the echoes with strains of martial music, and with the trampling of horses and the rumble of heavy guns sounding for the first time over the cemented pavements of Tenochtitlan.
As they marched, with heavy tread, up the principal avenue of the city, the troops gazed with undisguised amazement at the evidences of wealth and civilization surrounding them. For miles the way was lined with the residences of nobles. They were built of a handsome red sandstone, and though generally of but one story in height, each covered a large area. Although the flat, battlemented roofs of these buildings showed that they were capable of being converted into so many fortresses, this military character was softened by the beds of flowers and perfumed shrubbery with which most of them were covered. Often broad, terraced gardens appeared between the dwellings, and the straight lines of their monotonous architecture were broken, here and there, by the pyramidal bulk of some teocal, lifting its fire-crowned summit high above all other structures, the fountains and porticos of a square, or the crossing of a canal.
The profoundest impression was, however, created by the dense population, who swarmed on the house-tops, in the streets and squares, and on the canals, in such numbers as the Spaniards had not believed existed in all Anahuac. These everywhere greeted the white strangers with cheerful smiles and acclamations, mingled with expressions of wonder at their horses, weapons, costumes, and beards. But when the cavalry, infantry, and artillery had passed, the dark ranks of Tlascalan warriors, who followed, were met with the scowls and mutterings of an undying hatred. These were not lost upon Huetzin, who, proudly marching at the head of his mountaineers, returned them with interest. Whenever he passed a temple he sincerely hoped that some day he might lead his fierce warriors to its destruction. When he finally came in sight of the great teocal, where his noble father had died, and where he had so nearly lost his own life, his eyes glistened with a light that boded ill to this dwelling of the gods if ever he should be allowed to have his way with it.
Opposite the western side of the temple stood a vast and commodious range of buildings surrounded by a stone wall. These had formed the palace of Montezuma's father, and were now given over to the strangers, to be their place of abode so long as they should remain in the city. As they entered these quarters the king himself, surrounded by his nobles, stood in the courtyard waiting to receive them.
After his departure, Cortes made a careful inspection of the buildings, which were found to be ample for the accommodation of the entire army, and assigned to whites and Tlascalans their respective quarters. He then stationed the artillery so as to command the gateways, posted sentinels, ordered that no soldier should leave the enclosure without permission, and in every manner that his prudence dictated, guarded against attack or surprise. When this had been accomplished, the army was allowed to partake of the bountiful meal provided for it. Later in the day Cortes, accompanied by Marina and his captains, visited the palace of the king, by whom they were granted a long audience, and presented with costly gifts. At sunset the Spaniards celebrated their entrance into Tenochtitlan with a simultaneous discharge of all their artillery. This awe-inspiring sound, and its thunderous reverberations, combined with the sulphurous fumes of powder, filled the superstitious Aztecs with dismay, and convinced them that they were indeed entertaining beings of more than mortal powers.
After this two days were passed quietly, or in the interchange of ceremonious visits; but on the night of the third Huetzin, tired of inactivity, and disguising himself in a peasant's robe of nequen, sallied forth into the city. He had a vague hope of thus learning something of Tiata, which thus far he had been unable to do. Ever since sighting the Mexican valley her image had been constantly before him, and he was strongly impressed with the belief that she was still alive.
The streets were as well filled with people as they had been on the eve of the festival of the great calendar stone. In the brilliantly lighted porticos of the squares, in which pulque, chocolatl, or cooling sherbets were sold, at the corners, before the open doorways, on the bridges, and at the landing-places of the many canals, were gathered animated groups discussing the arrival of the white strangers, which still formed the all-absorbing topic of public interest. There was little laughter or singing, but much earnest conversation, of which Huetzin caught such scraps as he could while passing, for he dared not join himself to any group, for fear of disclosing his identity. For an hour he wandered aimlessly to and fro, shunning lighted places as much as possible, and seeking friendly shadows. At the end of this time he suddenly became filled with the uneasy sense of one who is secretly observed, and looking about him, he strove to discover if this were the case.
CHAPTER XX.
HUETZIN IN THE POWER OF THE CHIEF PRIEST
Thus far Huetzin had felt almost certain that he had escaped recognition in Tenochtitlan. By the Spaniards he was invariably addressed as Don Juan, while his own followers spoke and thought of him only as their chieftain, giving him always the title of his office. Although, under the circumstances of his present appearance in the city, he did not fear any evil consequences to himself from being identified with the prisoner who had escaped from Huitzil's altar only three months before, he thought it best, for Tiata's sake, to remain unknown as long as possible. Nor did he esteem this a difficult matter. While the personality of the Spaniards was of great interest in the court of Montezuma, that of their despised Tlascalan allies was not deemed worthy of consideration. Who, then, would concern himself as to the name, title, or previous history, even of their chief? As Huetzin answered to himself "No one," he forgot that the anger of a baffled priest never slumbers, forgives, nor forgets. He forgot Topil.
Thus, when the young Toltec finally discovered a shadowy form, that seemed to move when he moved, and to halt when he halted, though always at a distance from him, he became interested rather than apprehensive, and wondered for whom he was mistaken. In his efforts to obtain a closer view of his shadow, he tried disappearing around corners and then quickly retracing his steps, hiding in dark angles, and various other plans, but always without success. At length he lost sight of the figure, and was beginning to think he must be mistaken in his suspicions, when he was startled by a whisper in his ear: "If you would know of Tiata, follow me!" Then a dark form moved swiftly ahead of him.
For a moment the young Toltec stood irresolute. The utterance of his sister's name showed that he was indeed recognized. He longed above all things for news concerning her, but should he, for that reason, throw prudence to the winds and follow the first stranger who bade him do so? Certainly not. At the same time his curiosity was so aroused that he determined to overtake the mysterious person, if possible, and force an explanation from him. The shadow was still in sight, though at some distance, and, under the impulse of the resolve just made, Huetzin started swiftly after it. As he ran, so it fled, always almost, but not quite, within reach. A touch of its fluttering garments led him to believe that the chase was nearly ended, and in his exultation he failed to notice that he had passed through a wide gateway. Again, as he was about to grasp the figure, it darted through an open door; but here the pursuer paused. He would follow no further.
At that moment there came a shrill scream from within. It was a woman's voice, and it seemed to cry: "Huetzin! oh, Huetzin!" Impulsively the young man sprang forward. He had hardly passed the dark portal, when he was seized by several pairs of strong hands and thrown to the ground. A minute later he was led away, helplessly bound, through the darkness. At length he was rudely thrust into a wooden cage, such as were used for captives destined for sacrifice, and there left to his own sorrowful reflections.
He could no longer doubt that he had been recognized, his every movement watched, and his capture devised by means of the simple trap to which he had fallen so easy a victim. Fortunately for him, Topil, the chief priest, had that day gone on a secret mission to Tezcuco. He did not return until near noon of the following day. As soon as he reached the temple he was informed that the young Tlascalan, upon whom he had so long desired to lay hands, once more awaited his pleasure.
Topil's eyes lighted with a fierce gleam as he muttered, "Ha! son of Tlahuicol, and avowed enemy of the holy priesthood, thou shalt not escape me now!" Then, aloud, he said: "Away with him to the altar of Huitzil, to which I will shortly follow. With this sacrifice shall the anger of the gods be averted, and all shall once more go well with Anahuac."
In obedience to this order, Huetzin was dragged from his cage, to which no ray of light had penetrated since he was thrust into it, was blindfolded, and bound to the back of a sturdy tamane, or porter of the temple. In this manner, and surrounded by a strong guard of priests, he was borne for a long distance, and, as he could distinguish from the motion, up many flights of stairs. When he was at length set down, although the bandage was not removed from his eyes, he felt certain that he once more stood on the horrible platform crowning the great teocal of Huitzil.
As he stood there, feeling that now his last hour had indeed come, he vaguely calculated the chances of a desperate plan for wrenching himself free, at the last moment, seizing the chief priest, who he was sure would conduct the sacrifice in person, and leaping with him from the giddy height. All at once he became conscious of a mighty hum of voices rising from far below, and gradually swelling into acclamations. Then, although he could not see him, a priest came running breathlessly up the stairway that led to the platform. Huetzin did, however, hear the words, "They are coming here! Away with him! Another time will do as well! Even his dead body must not be discovered!" Then the prisoner was seized and dragged into a building, which, by the horrible odor pervading it, he recognized as the shrine of the god. Here he was thrust into some sort of a room or closet, and its door was closed behind him.
In the meantime, Huetzin's former preserver, Tlalco, the Toltec priest, had been well aware of his arrival in the city, but had not yet found an opportunity to communicate with him. With all his secret means of acquiring information, he had not known of the young chieftain's capture and imminent peril until Topil's return from Tezcuco. Then he overheard the communication made to the chief priest, and, without an instant's delay, hastened to the king's palace. Montezuma was not there, nor were his attendant nobles. They were escorting the Spaniards on a visit to the places of greatest interest within the city.
Sandoval had been greatly concerned to learn, upon inquiring for his friend Don Juan, just before setting forth on this excursion, that the young Tlascalan had not returned to his quarters since leaving them late on the previous evening. He would have instituted an immediate search for the missing youth, had not the arrival of the king at that moment demanded his service. Filled with an ever-increasing uneasiness, the young Spaniard was compelled to visit, with his commander and the other cavaliers, the great market-place of Tlateloco, where not even the thousand strange sights, that so interested the others, could distract his mind from its one all-absorbing thought. What had become of the friend whom he had learned to love as a brother? Was he in danger? If so, what was its nature?
He rejoiced when the tedious inspection of the market-place was ended, and the Spaniards were conducted toward the great temple, which Cortes was especially desirous of visiting. They were still some distance from it, when a page from the palace, mingling unnoticed with the throng, managed to attract the attention of Marina, who accompanied the party as interpreter, and delivered to her a whispered message. She turned pale as she gathered its import, and beckoning Sandoval to the side of her litter, said, in a low but thrillingly earnest tone:
"I am just told to inform the lord Sandoval that, if he would save his brother's life, he must make all speed to the summit of the great temple."
For a moment Sandoval was bewildered. His brother? Then it flashed into his mind that Huetzin, the missing one, must be meant. He also recalled the dread fate already escaped once by the young Toltec on the summit of that same pyramid of horrors. Huetzin had never been very clear in his account of how he escaped on that occasion, but it was likely that a similar method was well guarded against this time, if, indeed, he were in a similar danger.
While thus thinking, the young captain, saluting his commander, and obtaining leave to take a handful of men and act as an advance guard in clearing the streets, clapped spurs to Motilla and dashed away with a haste that occasioned general surprise. It was his impetuous arrival at the foot of the teocal that had occasioned such consternation on its summit, and the chief priest was but one flight of stairs ahead of him as he made his way, with all speed, up the long ascent. He was reckless of the fact that he had far outstripped his followers and was alone. Even when he gained the summit and found himself in the presence of a large body of scowling priests, he had no thought of his own danger. Drawing his sword, he advanced toward them with such a threatening air that they instinctively fell back at his approach.
"Where is he? What have you done with him? Answer me, dogs, ere I loosen thy false tongues with a taste of Spanish steel!" he cried, in savage tones, forgetting that they could understand no word of what he said.
As the priests retreated, so that his eyes could take in the whole of the broad platform, he saw that the object of his search was not there, nor was there any appearance of blood having been spilled that morning. Still he was not satisfied, and as his followers joined him, he led them, careless of the protests of the chief priest, into the foul shrine, where, in spite of its sickening odor, he searched every nook and corner, feeling with his sword in all places that he could not otherwise reach.
When the rest of the visiting party gained the summit of the teocal, the priest made such bitter complaint, to Montezuma, of the insult thus offered to their god that, for the first time during his intercourse with the whites, the king expressed anger at their proceedings, and declared that he himself must do penance for their sacrilege.