| THE LAND OF THE CONQUEST: STATE OF VERA CRUZ; VIEW ON THE MEXICAN RAILWAY; THE TOWN OF MALTRATA IS SEEN THOUSANDS OF FEET BELOW. |
But what we shall have accomplished in a day the weary Conquistadores have spent many marches in overcoming. Cortes and his men are halting at the end of a broad valley. What is the cause of the delay? An extraordinary fortification confronts them; a wall, twice as high as a man, made of stone blocks, and of enormous thickness, absolutely closes the passage of the valley, and extends for several miles on either hand to where it abuts upon the rocky ramparts of the Sierra itself. Was this some enchanted castle raised up by magician hand? Certainly not; it was the outer defence of the land of the Tlascalans; the bulwark of the brave and independent mountain republic, which had ever defied the power of the Aztecs.
To reach this point the Spaniards had toiled on day after day, sleeping at night upon their arms. From the tropical lands and climate of the tierra caliente they had reached the frowning fastnesses of the great mountains and lofty peaks, which overhang the crest of the eastern slope of the tableland of Mexico. The rainy season was upon them, and the trails were wet and heavy, and the atmosphere and humour of the tropic lands had been debilitating, as indeed they are to the European of today. The brusque change of climate from heat to cold tried them sorely, although the latter was the more invigorating. Day by day a huge coffin-shaped mountain had overhung the horizon—the Cofre de Perote, an extinct volcano, in whose vicinity the desolating action of old lava-flows startles the traveller's eye. As they reached the summit of the range—the crests of the Eastern Sierra Madre—the rain and snow and bitter winds, the functions of Nature which she ever lets loose upon the head of the traveller who defies her in such inclement regions, assailed the Spaniards, and some of the unfortunate Indians, natives of the tropic lands of the coast, succumbed to the cold. On, on they toiled up this untrodden way—untrodden, that is, by the foot of civilised man before that day, and at length, having crossed the summit, the divortia aquarum of the continent, they began the descent towards the mild climate of the Valley of Mexico.
Upon the confines of this valley was a town surrounded by extensive cultivated fields of maiz. Stone buildings, numerous teocallis, and a large population attested the importance of the place; and when the Spaniards asked if it was tributary to Montezuma the chief replied with another question, asking with surprise if there existed any other lord worthy of tribute. Another chief and tribe some miles beyond, gave a good reception to the Spaniards, and there they gladly halted for some days. The house of the chief was upon a hill, "protected by a better fort than can be found in half Spain," wrote Cortes to his Emperor at Castile. Here it was that the Spaniards received news of the existence of the people of Cholula and Tlascala, who inhabited the regions of their intended line of march. "Go by the road of the Tlascalans," the friendly chief advised; "the Cholulans are a treacherous people." Cortes despatched messengers to the chief of Tlascala, but no reply was received, and after waiting some days the Spaniards continued their march, to where we left them halting before the stone wall across the valley.
And then began the most stirring events of their march. The Tlascalans were a people who had developed a remarkable civilisation and social and military organisation, akin to that of the Aztecs. On the arrival of the messengers of Cortes much dissension had prevailed in their councils, some of the chiefs—the community was ruled by a council of four—maintaining that this was an opportunity for vengeance against their hereditary enemies, the hated Aztecs and their prince, Montezuma. "Let us ally ourselves with these terrible strangers," they urged, "and march against the Mexicans." For the doings of the Spaniards had echoed through the land already, with a tale of smitten tribes and broken idols. But the wily old Xicotencatl thought otherwise. "What do we know of their purpose?" was his counsel; so it was agreed that the army of the Tlascalans and Otomies, who were in force near the frontier, under the command of the fiery young warrior—son of old Xicotencatl, and bearing the same name—should attack them. "If we fail," the old barbarian urged, "we will disavow the act of our general; if we win—"!
The stone fortification at the valley's end had been undefended, and with Cortes at their head the Spaniards entered Tlascalan territory. Skirmishing was followed by a pitched battle between the Christians and the Tlascalans, in which the firearms and lances of the Spaniards wrought terrible havoc on their antagonists. Astounded at the sight of the horses—those extraordinary beings, whether of animal or demoniacal origin they knew not—and appalled by the thundering of the guns, which seemed to have some superhuman source, the Tlascalans at first fell back. But they overcame their fears, fell savagely upon the invaders, and were with difficulty repulsed, having managed to kill two of the horses. Greatly to Cortes's regret was this, for the noble animals were few, and—more serious still—their death removed that semi-superstitious dread regarding them, which the natives held. However, the Spaniards afterwards buried them from sight.
Night fell, a season when the Indians fought not, but on the morrow the messengers which had been sent to the Tlascalans arrived—having escaped—with the news that the enemy was approaching in great force. So indeed it befel, and upon the plain in front of the Spaniards appeared a mighty host, varyingly estimated between thirty and a hundred thousand warriors. The Spaniards with their allies numbered—fearful odds!—about three thousand. "The God of the Christians will bear us through," said the brave and beautiful Marina. A frightful battle now ensued, the issue of which hung in the scale for hours. Charging, volleying, borne this way and that by the flood of the enemy's numbers, the gallant band of the Spaniards snatched victory from almost certain defeat, their superior weapons and cavalry, together with the bad tactics of the Indians, who knew not how to employ their unwieldy army to best advantage, at length decided the day for the Christians, who inflicted terrible punishment upon their foes. The Tlascalans' policy now showed signs of weakening, but further assaults were necessary, and some treachery, under the guise of friendship, having been discovered on the part of the fifty Tlascalan envoys to the Spanish camp, Cortes barbarously cut off the hands of these and sent them back to tell the tale.
The upshot of these engagements was that the Tlascalans capitulated, apologised for their conduct, invited the strangers to take possession of their capital, and assured them that they would now be allies, not enemies, of the white men, who were undoubtedly the representatives of the great and long-expected Quetzalcoatl. The joy in the Spanish camp at this turn of affairs knew no bounds; well did the Spaniards know that the continued opposition of the Indians would have been their ruin, whilst in their alliance was salvation and the key to the Conquest.
Behold the war-worn and hungry Spaniards, lean and tattered from marching and privations in the inclement uplands, now installed in comfort in the centre of the powerful Tlascalan capital. Forth had come to greet them young Xicotencatl, who, to do him justice, took upon himself the responsibility of the war; and as the Spaniards entered the capital the streets were lined with men, women, and children, and decorated with garlands of flowers as for a triumphal procession. The old chief who had urged for opposition now changed his tactics, and as Cortes entered he embraced him, passing his hand over the face of the Spaniard to see what manner of man he was, for the aged Tlascalan was blind, having reached, it has been said—probably with exaggeration—a hundred and forty years of age! "The city is much larger than Granada," wrote Cortes to Carlos V., with a description of its markets, shops, houses, and intelligent and industrious population.