The natives of Mexico professed a horrible religion, of which human sacrifice was the principal feature. They often made war upon neighboring people for no other purpose than to capture prisoners to be slaughtered upon their altars and afterward eaten. During battle they spared the lives of their enemies, saving them for a more terrible death by the knives of the priests. The number of these unfortunate victims sometimes reached thousands in a single day. Some historians have placed it as high as twenty-five thousand. If the nation were at peace for a long time and no prisoners were available for offerings, the priests would notify the Emperor that the deities were suffering from hunger. As soon as the Emperor’s proclamation spread the news through the country that the deities were ready for a banquet, it was the signal for a general war upon their neighbors. Then as soon as a sufficient number of prisoners had been collected, the priests began their hideous business. It cannot be denied that the various calamities which befell the natives at the hands of the tyrannical Europeans were a very great wrong, but, as compared with the terrible cruelties practised before their arrival, it must be acknowledged that these unfortunate people upon the whole gained more than they lost by submission to the Spanish yoke.
Cortes’ delight over the successful progress of his undertaking up to this time was now disturbed by reflections upon the dangerous situation into which he had so recklessly plunged. He realized all too clearly that he had ventured more than he might be able to carry out, and that the fate of himself and his army rested in the hands of a prince whose real intentions seemed to grow more and more mysterious. The Tlaxcalans from the beginning had not ceased to warn him that Montezuma’s object in receiving him in his capital was to catch him in a trap from which there was no way of escape. The disposition of this ruler and the peculiar situation of his capital lent probability to these warnings. Should they destroy the causeways located along the lake, which were the only approaches to the city, he saw that he would be completely cut off from the rest of the world and surrounded by a multitude against whose superior numbers neither his courage nor his weapons might be of any avail. In this emergency a very unpleasant event had occurred at Vera Cruz, of which Cortes received information shortly before this time.
Quauhpopoka, one of the Mexican generals, after Cortes’ departure for that region, determined to punish those people who had revolted and placed themselves under the protection of the Spaniards. Escalante, the governor of Vera Cruz, considered himself bound to assist his allies. At the head of his little band and with the two remaining horses he offered battle. He held his ground, but he himself and seven others were fatally wounded. The most unfortunate event of the battle was the killing of one of the horses and the capture of one of his men. The Mexicans killed their prisoner at once and sent his head to various cities as a proof that the Spaniards were not immortal. At last their trophy reached the capital. Cortes, who naturally was disturbed by the dangers confronting him, spent that night in earnest consideration of methods to escape them. Toward morning he summoned some of his faithful Tlaxcalans to ascertain just what they had seen or heard of Montezuma’s secret designs. Their statements confirmed his suspicions as well as his determination to carry out the plan he had settled upon. They specially informed him that the leading officials had acted mysteriously for several days, that the head of a Spaniard had been sent among the provinces, and that Montezuma had issued orders to conceal it. Finally they declared they had heard that preparations were already being made to destroy the causeways.
This was enough for Cortes. His decision was made, and he endeavored to convince his officers that there was no other way of escape except that which he had planned.
Chapter IX
Montezuma is Made a Prisoner—Quauhpopoka and His Leaders Burned—The Mexicans Swear Allegiance to the King of Spain
Cortes summoned his officers to a council of war and set before them the great danger to which they would be exposed in case Montezuma attacked them. They recognized at once that the situation must be met. Some were of opinion they should leave the city entirely and cross the causeways before their road was cut off. Others suggested that they should retire with the knowledge of the Emperor. Both these measures, however, appeared unwise, since any withdrawal would seem like flight and would involve not only a battle with the Mexicans but also the contempt of their allies. Cortes announced a plan, inspired by the highest daring in the face of a desperate situation. He would make Montezuma a prisoner, leaving him an appearance of sovereignty, but actually ruling in his name. The deed of Quauhpopoka, for which the Emperor was responsible, would furnish justification for his imprisonment. After the council had approved this project, preparations were made to carry it out. The whole force was placed under arms in the closed courtyard in readiness at the first signal to go to the help of the general. Some small detachments were ordered to occupy the streets leading to Montezuma’s palace, which would not create excitement, as the people were used to seeing armed Spaniards. When the hour came in which Cortes was accustomed to wait upon the Emperor, he betook himself with five officers and thirty of the bravest men in his army to the palace. This also aroused no suspicion, for a military escort was a common spectacle.
Cortes as usual was courteously received and was conducted to Montezuma’s apartment with his officers and interpreter. The servants withdrew and the venturesome scene began. With a countenance expressive of the highest indignation Cortes denounced the faithless act of Quauhpopoka, who, at a time of peace, and in defiance of justice, had attacked his people and allies, inhumanly slaughtered a Spaniard, and sent his head through the country as a show. He added that report made Montezuma himself responsible for this and therefore he was forced to demand satisfaction for the insult which had been offered to his master, the greatest monarch of the earth.
Montezuma was so terrified that he turned pale, but he declared by all that was most sacred he was in no way responsible for the outrage. As a proof of his innocence he added that he would at once order Quauhpopoka and his accomplices to be brought to Mexico in chains. Cortes thereupon assumed a more friendly attitude and assured Montezuma that as far as he himself was concerned he was entirely content, but to satisfy his enraged soldiers he would have to demand more. They would never be persuaded that such a deed could have happened without the Emperor’s knowledge if he did not agree publicly to prove his good faith and sincere friendship. The proof which they demanded was his presence for several days in their quarters where they might offer fitting honors to His Majesty.
Montezuma was beside himself with astonishment and indignation at this unusual demand. He was unable to speak and stood like a statue, while Cortes represented to him that this request of his soldiers was not unseemly as he would spend the time in quarters assigned to him in one of his own palaces. At last the astonished man came to himself and found words to express his indignation. With great dignity he said: “A sovereign of the Mexican Empire is not accustomed voluntarily to accept imprisonment, and, even if I were capable of it, my subjects would never submit to such shameful treatment.”
Cortes, who was reluctant to use force, both flattered and threatened Montezuma to induce him to give his consent, but it was in vain. At last, after three hours had been wasted in useless talk, Velasquez De Leon, one of the Spanish officers, a young, excitable man, whose patience was exhausted, exclaimed with threatening gestures: “Why all this consideration? Take him by force or kill him.” Montezuma asked what he had said. Marina informed him and added that she trembled for his life if he refused to go. The poor man at once lost all courage. He realized that he was in the power of strong men and that he must expect the worst if he longer refused. He yielded to his fate, sprang from his seat, and informed Cortes he trusted to his assurances and would go with him.