The squadron of Cortés was composed of eleven small vessels. There were 110 sailors, 553 soldiers, of which thirteen were armed with muskets, and thirty-two with arquebuses, the others with swords and pikes only. There were ten little field-pieces, and sixteen horses. Such were the forces with which the bold adventurer set forth to conquer a vast empire, defended by large armies, not without courage, according to the report of Grijalva. But the companions of Cortés were unfamiliar with fear. Cortés followed the same route as Grijalva. At Cozumel, an island off Yucatan, he learned by signs from the natives that white captives, with beards, had been lately seen by them. Cortés left a letter for these men with a boat and some soldiers, and the result was their finding a white man named Jérome d' Aguilar, whom they restored to liberty. He told them that he was a native of Ecija, in Spain, ship-wrecked in 1511, seven years before. Thirteen of his companions escaped drowning and starvation, only to be exposed to the danger of being eaten by Mayas, from which also they escaped by the toleration of a cacique, who treated them well. All the rest died but one, and this one refused to join Cortés, having a wife and children, his face tattoed, and wearing ear-rings. He preferred to continue in the way of life first forced upon him, but Aguilar gladly joined the adventurers, and proved a valuable acquisition, for though he knew but little of the country, he had much to tell of the manners and customs of the people, and moreover served as interpreter, of which the commander was in sore need. During his long captivity, Aguilar had acquired the language of the country, and could now bring Cortés into communication with its inhabitants.
At the Tabasco River, which the Spanish called Rio de Grijalva, because that explorer had discovered it, they had a fight with some natives who resisted their approach. These natives fought bravely, but the fire-arms, and above all the horses, which they conceived to be of one piece with their riders, caused them extreme terror, and the rout was complete. According to Spanish tradition, the Christian soldiers saw at the opening of the battle their patron, Saint James, mounted on a white horse, and fighting for them. This not only inspired them with bravery, but their adversaries with fear, so that they fled in alarm. The native prince, overcome, sent gifts to the conqueror, and, without much knowing the extent of his agreement, acknowledged himself as vassal of the king of Spain, the most powerful monarch of the world.
Cortés passed in this place Palm Sunday, urging Aguilar, who called himself a deacon of the church, to explain to the prince and the lords of the land the mysteries of religion, and to make them comprehend the vanity of worshipping idols. The anniversary was then solemnized, with high mass, received with grave reverence by the natives, much impressed by the ceremonies of the strange religion.
Meanwhile a brief calm had settled over the court and capital of Mexico. The white-faced strangers had left the coast, and it was to be hoped they might never come back. The nobles took up their train of pleasure and the common people went on with their peaceable, happy lives, floating over the canals with their produce-laden, flower-heaped boats, singing low chants of the past in a melancholy, minor key, peculiar to the Mexican music.
But one day, in the end of March, 1519, swift messengers came up the steep ascent between the tropical flat shore and the cool plateau of Anahuac, and demanded instant audience with the king. Montezuma knew well what was coming. During the interval since the departure of the white men, he had felt that it was only a respite, and that the terror of their presence was only a premonition of worse things to come. So he received the messengers with a calm smile, and simply said to them: "Speak." These messengers were wonderfully well informed. Without giving the precise details we now know, they could describe the conflict, the terror of the Tabascans, and above all the strange animals, unlike any thing they had seen before, which bore their riders into battle, perhaps, in fact, a part of the same machinery, turning, plunging, advancing as if by magic, and, as they thought, invulnerable to all weapons. Also the thunder and lightning of the new-comers was something supernatural, destructive flashes of fire under their control, accompanied by a bursting sound, and followed by instant death.
These tidings appeared incredible, yet must be believed, and, what was more, acted upon. The king, after due counsel with his advisers, resolved to send envoys, as before, to the strangers. The presents prepared for Grijalva, which had reached the shore too late, were, alas! all ready. To these were now added the ornaments used in the decoration of the image of Quetzalcoatl, on days of solemnity, regarded as the most sacred among all the possessions of the royal house of Mexico.
Cortés accepted the rôle of Quetzalcoatl and allowed himself to be decorated with the ornaments belonging to that god without hesitation. The populace were convinced that it was their deity really returned to them. A feast was served to the envoys, with the accompaniment of some European wine which they found delicious.
The adventurers landed on Good Friday, and celebrated Easter on shore with great pomp and solemnity. The intendant of the province brought offerings to the great stranger, and presents were exchanged. Cortés sent to Montezuma a gilt helmet with the message that he hoped to see it back again filled with gold. During the feast native painters were busy depicting every thing they saw to be shown to their royal master. The bearer of this gift and communication, returning swiftly to the court, reported to the monarch that the intention of the stranger was to come at once to the capital of the empire. Montezuma at once assembled a new council of all his great vassals, some of whom urged the reception of Cortés, others his immediate dismissal. The latter view prevailed, and the monarch sent, with more presents to the unknown invader, benevolent but peremptory commands that he should go away immediately. Having sent off the messenger, poor Montezuma retreated to the depths of his palace and refused to be comforted, foreseeing that the great empire of Anahuac was about to fall.
Meanwhile the Spanish camp was feasting and reposing in huts of cane, with fresh provisions, in great joy after the weariness of their voyage. They accepted with enthusiasm the presents of the emperor, but the treasures which were sent had an entirely different effect from that hoped for by Montezuma; they only inflamed the desire of the Spaniard to have all within his grasp, of which this was but a specimen.
It was now that the great mistake in policy was apparent, by which the Aztec chieftain had for years been making enemies all over the country, invading surrounding states, and carrying off prisoners for a horrible death by sacrifice. These welcomed the strangers, and encouraged their presence, thinking they might be valuable allies against the oppressive power of the tyrant. They made a dreadful mistake of course, for Cortés ruined all the native populations of Mexico, while he grasped at the wealth of Montezuma; but the extent of his daring and powers were little imagined at his first coming.