No time was lost in heading off Narvaez’ expedition from entrance into the interior. Cortez took most of his men and probably a large force of the native allies sufficient to block Narvaez’ march to the capital. Only 130 Spaniards were left in Mexico under the command of Alvarado. While Narvaez was sojourning at Cempoala despoiling the neighborhood of the few valuables that remained there after Cortez’ march, one of the ecclesiastics from Cortez’ army was sent to visit the rival camp. He showed much dexterity in winning over important men-at-arms, especially those of the artillery, by a judicious distribution of gifts, though outwardly he made loud profession of devotion to Narvaez. The work of this skilled emissary was made the easier because Narvaez kept all the spoil he collected for himself; the contrast was not left unnoticed by the men whom the commander had won.
When the work of undermining Narvaez’ men had been completed, the Friar Olmedo found it easy to break off negotiations and return to his own camp. There was now little difficulty in settling the affairs between the two captains without bloodshed; Narvaez’ men were ready to abandon him. Cortez, as he explains in a letter to Charles V, after drawing near to Cempoala with his army, entered Narvaez’ camp with a few followers by night and, before he was observed, took his rival prisoner. There was only a little fighting; two were killed by artillery fire in preventing those who wished to rescue Narvaez from entering a tower where he had his quarters. This strategy seemed to Cortez the best way “to avoid a scandal,” but less satisfactory to his men was the division of booty found in the camp. Cortez gave it all to Narvaez’ men. “They were many and we were few,” Diaz del Castillo regretfully explains; “Cortez feared that they might kill him and his small band of men-at-arms.”
With the advent of this new army of marauders in the country there appeared a plague of smallpox, a disease hitherto unknown. It made frightful ravages, and its effects were compared by the Indians to those of leprosy. No mention is made of the epidemic by Cortez; he was too alarmed at the news which came from Mexico to heed the sufferings of the native population, who were dying like cattle. While he had been so successful on the coast, his garrison in the capital had been attacked; their quarters had been partly burned and undermined, and Cortez was afraid that all the treasure would be lost, his men massacred, and the city sacrificed. No word had come from Montezuma; it seemed that the worst must have happened.
The difficult situation in which Alvarado was placed was due to his own brutality. Before Cortez had left the city, he had given permission that the festival of the god Toxcatl should be celebrated with the accustomed ceremonies. Alvarado added as further conditions that they should bear no arms nor offer human sacrifices. This festal occasion lent itself readily to a repetition of the butchery of Cholula, and some authorities go so far as to think that Cortez had given secret commands for the massacre before he set off for the coast. While the chiefs, warriors, and other leading men, more than 1000 in number, were solemnly dancing in honor of their god in the court of the temple, unarmed and covered with gold ornaments and jewels and singing as they moved about, half the men of the Spanish garrison entered and ranged themselves around the wall, after closing the entrances to the courtyard. The Indians, thinking they had come in as curious spectators, made no break in the ordinary ritual; suddenly the dancers and the spectators were set upon, and the patio of the temple was soon filled with dismembered heads, arms, and legs. The court was soon nothing but a human shambles. Some tried to escape by climbing over the side walls or by rushing up the temple steps; others feigned to be dead; only a few saved themselves.
The massacre lasted an hour, and, carefully planned as it must have been, no hitch occurred during its progress. The people outside finally got news of what was happening and, picking up their weapons, they made savage attacks on the Spaniards, forcing them back to their quarters. Alvarado himself was wounded on the head. Finding refuge, the Spaniards barricaded themselves as well as they could, and the Indians turned to bury their dead, an operation which took many days on account of the elaborate ceremonial required by the dignity of those who had perished. After the funeral ceremonies, the Mexicans returned impetuously to the attack on the Spanish quarters.
It would have gone hard with Cortez’ men if Montezuma had not interfered in their behalf. Speaking from the roof of the building where he was kept a prisoner, he gave orders to the Aztec warriors to stop the fight. Cortez had heard of the massacre from both sides, as Montezuma had sent to him envoys to complain of Alvarado’s wanton slaughter in the temple. He promised to do justice when he arrived, and also spoke, as a proof of his peaceful temper, of the small force he was bringing back with him. As a matter of fact, when he re-entered the city there were over 1000 Europeans and many allies with him; in Tlaxcala alone he enlisted the services of 2000 men. No opposition was made to this formidable force taking up their old quarters.
It was strange that Cortez, who was usually quick to punish any contravention of his orders, took no account of the massacre. He omits mentioning it in his letters to Charles V, and it is not surprising that Friar Sahagun reports that Cortez approved of the crime and told Alvarado he had done well. In the disturbed conditions in the city no market was held, and the Spaniards were no longer provided with food. Montezuma excused the omission because of his imprisonment. Threatening words were spoken by Cortez, and from this time his prisoner ceased to exert any influence to prevent the revolt against the invaders.
A messenger sent out to Vera Cruz returned to his comrades with the news a half hour later that the whole city was up in arms. Even a group of 200 Spaniards could make no headway through the streets. The Indians faced the artillery in close array, and as fast as they were mowed down, the gaps were filled up by others. They fought with a desperation which caused wonderment even from men in Cortez’ army who had served against the Turks. Constructions of wood were made to protect the Spaniards from the showers of stones that poured down on them from the housetops, while they tried to clear the streets covered with barricades. But they could make no progress, and finally they withdrew to their quarters, pursued by the Aztecs, who entered the palace in the face of the desperate resistance of the Europeans. They threatened to leave no Spaniard alive, yet they begged as suppliants for their lord Montezuma to be given back to them.
Though there are conflicting details given of the Aztec attack on the Spanish quarters, there is not much doubt but that Montezuma had been killed on the morning of the 27th of August, the day the wooden engines were first used. The monarch was no longer of any use now that he had refused to keep the revolt in check. There are different accounts of the murder, but there seems a fairly general agreement that Montezuma was stabbed to death.
As there was no longer any hope of defending their quarters successfully, Cortez tried to save himself and his men by a ruse. The dead body of the Aztec ruler was taken up on the roof, covered with a large shield so that the fact that it was a corpse could not be seen clearly. Then one of the feudatories, the lord of Tlaclolco, addressed the crowd and bade them, as if speaking in the presence of his master, to give up the attack on the Spaniards, because, if they persisted, he was afraid he would be killed. Little impression was made; injurious words were spoken against the vacillating and effeminate ruler, supposedly still alive before them. There was a volley of arrows, and some say the body was struck by a stone. This is the basis of a story circulated purposely by Cortez and others that the monarch had died from the wounds received on the roof, where he had gone voluntarily to speak to his people. It was a dangerous thing for Cortez to confess to the murder, for Montezuma, be it remembered, had accepted the position of a vassal of the Spanish crown. When the Aztecs showed no sign of taking a peaceful attitude, Cortez himself tried the plan of addressing them from the roof, but his diplomacy was of no avail. The only conditions offered were withdrawal from Aztec territory; as long as he stayed in the city, the Aztecs said, they would keep up the fight.