It adds nothing to the honor of Spanish arms to throw in at this juncture a miracle to terrify the already half-paralyzed Indians, who might otherwise prove too strong for their steel-clad assailants; but the records compel me. While in the dire embrace of heathen hordes, midst thrust and slash and crash of steel and stone, the enemy hewn down and driven back only to give place to thrice the number, behold, upon a gray-spotted steed, a heavenly horseman appeared, and from a slight eminence overlooking the bloody field he frowned confusion on the foe. The heathen warriors were stricken powerless, enabling the Spaniards to form anew; but when the horseman vanished, the Indians rallied. Thrice, with the same effect, the awful apparition came and went.[134] Then there were horsemen indeed, more real to the Spaniards, but none the less spectral to the Indians. They had been detained by the marshes intervening; and now, with swords and helmets glittering, they rose in the enemy’s rear, and midst clang of arms and shouts of Santiago y San Pedro, they threw themselves with terrible effect upon him. What could the Indians do? Those that were not trampled or cut to death turned and fled, and the Spaniards possessed the field. “And this was the first preaching of the gospel in New Spain, by Cortés,” remarks the caustic Las Casas.[135]
The Spaniards drew up at a grove to return thanks for this great victory. A large number of the enemy were slain. Sixty of their own number were wounded, and two lay dead; eight horses had been scratched, and their wounds were cauterized and anointed with the fat of dead Indians.[136] On returning to camp two of five captives, leading men, were sent with presents to the cacique to represent the danger of further hostility, and to propose a council of peace. Tabasco was very ready to lay down arms, and he sent a propitiatory offering of fowl, fried fish, and maize bread by messengers with blackened faces and dressed in rags. Cortés answered with a reprimand, “Tell your master, if he desires peace he must sue for it, and not send slaves.” Tabasco hastened to comply, and sent immediately to Cortés an embassy of forty chiefs, richly clad and walking in stately procession, followed by a file of slaves bearing presents. Low bowing before the bearded assembly, and swinging before them the censer in token of reverence, the ambassador implored pardon, and proffered submission. “The blame is all your own,” said Cortés, with severity. The Indians acquiesced, though it puzzled them to know for what they were to blame. Cortés further informed them that the great king, his master, had sent him to scatter blessings, if they were found deserving; if not, to let loose upon them the caged lightning and the thunder which he carried. Whereat the gun charged for the occasion was fired, and as the noise reverberated over the hills and the ball went crashing through the trees, the Indians fell prostrate with fear, and the noble Europeans were proud of their superiority.
Reassured against further punishment, the next trick played upon them was to tie a mare in the bushes in sight of a stallion which they paraded before their visitors; and when he neighed and reared and plunged to get to his mate, the natives were told that the great beast was angry because of the peace that was being made, and only further gifts would pacify him.
On the following morning Tabasco presented himself in person, attended by a large retinue, and bringing presents, among which were some gold ornaments of little value and twenty female slaves. The terms dictated by Cortés were that they should return their women and children to the village within two days, in token of their good faith, and that the treacherous Melchor should be delivered up. But the unfortunate interpreter had already suffered death in return for his bad advice. It was useless to demand gold, for there was little or none here. So they proceeded at once to expound the doctrines of their faith; to lay before them the truths of the gospel which they had come so far to bring. An altar was erected in the chief temple on which was placed a large cross. From this altar Father Olmedo preached to the natives, and here were baptized the first converts to the church in New Spain, consisting of the twenty female slaves, who were afterward distributed among the leaders. Then followed the ceremonial tender of allegiance by the chiefs of Tabasco’s province to the Spanish king, and the formal naming of the large town, which was called Santa María de la Victoria, in commemoration of the victory.[137]
Palm Sunday being at hand, it was resolved to celebrate it in such a manner as to further impress the natives. Attired in their most brightly colored garments, with palms in their hands and banners aloft, the Spaniards marched in solemn procession, to harmonious chants, about the temple; and when these doughty men of war humbled themselves before the symbols of their faith, the wondering heathen thought that great indeed must be the god worshipped by such beings. After commending the sacred emblems to the care of the chiefs, with a promise to send holy men to teach them the true faith, and with assurances of royal protection, the Spaniards bade the Nonohualcas farewell, and were shortly on their way again.
Keeping close to the shore for purposes of observation, the several places observed and named by Grijalva were pointed out to Cortés and commented upon by those who had accompanied the former expedition. Certain of the new captains took umbrage at this assumption of superior knowledge, accompanied by liberal proffers of advice; and one of them, the polished Puertocarrero, broke out in a strain of pleasant sarcasm. “It seems to me, señor,” he said, taking the incidents of a well-known romance for his text, “as if these gentlemen would enlighten you, in the words of the father of Montesinos:
Behold France, Montesinos;
Behold Paris, the city;
Behold the waters of Douro,
Where they fall into the sea!