CONSPIRACY OF THE CAPTIVE KINGS.

This place is remarkable for one incident which concerned the safety of the Spaniards, according to their account, and left an indelible impression on the natives of New Spain. Among those who followed the expedition as hostages, as we have seen, were three deposed kings, two of whom were now accused of treachery, Quauhtemotzin, and Tetlepanquetzal. These patriots were criminal in the eyes of the Spaniards; they had dared to regard the invaders as the enemies of their country, and bitterly to oppose them. It seemed now convenient to Cortés that they should die, and excuse was not wanting for killing them. Suffering every hardship of the march, the royal captives had found some consolation in observing how heavily it bore on their keepers, toiling, starving, discontented, blundering along an unknown and dangerous route. But this was not their only feeling. Quauhtemotzin, the sovereign, the general, the tactician, could not fail to observe the disparity between his followers and the hated white men. The latter were reduced in strength by famine and hardships, in the midst of a strange country, far from relief, while the Mexicans, if also weakened, and not so well armed, were tenfold more numerous, and more at home in these wilds. Inspired by a deeply rooted devotion to their traditions, to their princes, to their country, the merest whisper of revenge, of freedom, could not fail to find response. Yes, sweet was the thought of revenge; equally sweet the prospect of a triumphal return to Mexico, there to be greeted as a liberator ordained to restore the ancient grandeur of Montezuma's court; finally, perhaps, to be exalted by a grateful people to the pantheon of the gods, a dream so worthy the soldier and patriot, how oft may it not have smiled upon his fancy! What more natural, what more commendable indeed, than projects for the liberation not alone of the auxiliary host, but of their country and kindred? Treachery had been used to reduce them, and treachery must be met with treachery. This was justifiable, although the Indians probably weighed not the moral aspect of the question. As for the risk, one blow, one death, was preferable to the daily death which they were suffering on this journey. Yes, they must take advantage of the opportunity presented, and while the Spaniards were engrossed by the difficulties of some mountain pass, or engulfed in some morass, fall upon them, especially upon the feared Cortés, and then, with the prestige of victors, return to Mexico, where their compatriots would meanwhile, under advice, have risen simultaneously against the now disorganized and squabbling colonists, reduced as they were in numbers.[XVIII-31]

THE KILLING OF THE KINGS.

How long the plot had been brewing is not stated, but during the stay at Teotilac Cortés was startled by a revelation from a prominent Mexican,[XVIII-32] who gave him a paper with the names of the conspirators in hieroglyphics. Several were seized, and under separate examination confessed to the existence of the plot, although disclaiming for themselves of course any actual participation.[XVIII-33] Quauhtemotzin was also questioned, and admitted, says Bernal Diaz, that the hardships and dangers had aroused rebellious sentiments among the Indians, but claimed that he was not the author, and judging from his own feelings he regarded the whole thing as mere talk. A quick secret trial was held, and the sentence of death by hanging pronounced against Quauhtemotzin and Tetlepanquetzal,[XVIII-34] who were dragged forth during the stillness of the night to a ceiba-tree, where they met their fate. Cortés was present at the execution, and to him Quauhtemotzin addressed himself, writes Bernal Diaz. "Malinche, many a day have I suspected the falsity of thy words, and that thou hadst destined this end to my life. Why dost thou kill me without justice? God will demand of thee thy answer!" Tetlepanquetzal calmly expressed himself content to die with his royal companion, and together they listened to the exhortations of the friars, dying like true Christians.[XVIII-35] The execution took place during the carnival days preceding shrove-tide, and appears to have created no excitement either among Indians or Spaniards.[XVIII-36]

EXCUSES FOR THE ATROCITY.

Most Spanish authorities are of course inclined to uphold the act as a necessary punishment for a proven crime. Yet certain men, like Torquemada, a champion of the natives, and modern Mexican writers, side with the Indians in stamping it as a foul murder, carried out merely to be rid of the kings whose presence was becoming a burden to the conquerors. Others, like Bernal Diaz, soften the deed into a mistake, based on insufficient evidence, and prompted by a desire to smother a conspiracy which some imaginary spirits had conjured.[XVIII-37] But Cortés would hardly have removed so valuable a hostage without good reason. The reason being admitted, and this to some extent even by native records, the precarious situation of the Spaniards demanded that Cortés should take measures commensurate with the apparent danger.[XVIII-38]

Many of the natives, particularly those now encountering the Spaniards for the first time, regarded the discovery of the conspiracy with superstitious awe. The idea of treachery by an accomplice did not seem to so occur to them, but with mysterious shaking of the head they pointed to the compass and chart. Instruments which had so unaccountably, and better than any guide, pointed out the road and saved the army from destruction, could of course reveal a simple conspiracy. Nothing could be hidden from the owner of that needle. Conscious, perhaps, of some stray unfriendly thought, many hastened to Cortés to protest their devotion. "Look into the mirror, and you will find it so," they said, alluding to the compass, yet quaking the while lest a suspicion should there stand depicted. Apochpalon was so affected that he hastened to tender allegiance and to burn idols. So convenient a belief was not to be disturbed, and the natives were allowed to nurse it.

THE ARMY AT IZANCANAC.

The army now proceeded to Izancanac,[XVIII-39] the populous capital of Acalan, conducted by Apochpalon in person. He was mounted on a horse, and the first apprehensions over, he strode his steed with childish delight. The soldiers were treated with sumptuous hospitality, and Cortés was gratified with presents of gold and women. Meanwhile, to facilitate the further march, the road was improved, a bridge built, and guides were provided, besides an advance corps laden with provisions. In return for all this Apochpalon asked merely for a letter to prove to other white comers that he had been faithful.

There was every inducement to prolong the stay at Izancanac, served and feasted as they were, but the nearness of the Spanish settlements, as alluringly depicted by the calculating Apochpalon, was an incentive for all to proceed. Laden with rations for a week, they departed on the first Sunday in Lent from the fair province of Acalan, over which, the protective letter notwithstanding, the withering influence of Spaniards was soon to fall. On the third day they entered the prairie-studded province of the Mazatecs,[XVIII-40] so called from the abundance of deer. These animals were here regarded with veneration, and the consequent immunity from pursuit had made them not only numerous, but tame. The soldiers, being restrained by no scruples of native superstition, could not resist the temptation of a chase over the verdure-clad fields, and soon a score of deer were added to the larder. The following day they came to a frontier fortress, built on a rock, and bounded on one side by a lake, on the other by a river, and with only one means of access. Besides this natural strength it was protected by a double stockade with moats, surmounted by towers, and the houses were also provided with shot-holes. The place was in fact impregnable, and every precaution was taken to meet the resistance for which the attack of some lately captured scouts had prepared them. Cautiously they advanced toward the entrance. Not a sound, not a movement. An ambuscade must have been formed, since no gate barred the entry. But within reigned silence, and it was only on reaching the plaza that some chiefs appeared with humble obeisance. This was one of the asylums erected by the Mazatecs for refuge against the wild Lacandones. But what availed walls and arms against the irresistible bearded men who controlled the lightning. Them the inhabitants dared not resist. They had fled to mountain fastnesses, leaving their wealth of provisions and arms at the disposal of the invaders, with the sole request that the place be not destroyed. The chiefs were reassured, and after replenishing their stores the Spaniards proceeded for seven leagues to a larger and similar pueblo called Tiac, situated on a plain, within a stockade, each of its three wards being provided with separate palisades. The caciques of this and several other pueblos of the province, each independent and quarrelsome, sent messengers with presents and offers of allegiance, but could not be prevailed upon to come in person with their people. The guides here obtained gave the cheering information that the white men were not far off, and conducted them to Ahuncahuitl, the last pueblo of this province, also fortified, and amply provisioned, so much so that rations were taken for the five days' march which intervened before reaching the province of the Itzas.[XVIII-41]