Apocalypse in Mexico
W.
Scott Smoot
Five
hundred years ago, near where Mexico City now sprawls with traffic and
commerce, once sat a splendid capital of the Mexica people, also known as the
Aztecs. To the Spaniards who first approached it, the city seemed to rise from
the crystal clear water of a volcanic lake like a fairy-tale city with towers
of stone and palaces of cedar, cages of brightly feathered birds kept just for
decoration, and busy but orderly markets where they found unfamiliar fruits and
vegetables of all colors, game, cloth, and jewelry. Built on the water, the
city could be reached by a long stone causeway, and it was linked to smaller
towns fringing the lake's shores. The Spanish called the city Mexico after its
people, but the Mexica called it Tenochtitlan. Here in a clash of gods, a world
came to an end.
Aztecs
Foresee their Doom
The king of the Mexica was considered a
god, and his people never looked directly on him. But we do have a description
of him by a Spanish eye-witness:
The
great Montezuma was about forty years old, of good height, well-proportioned,
spare and slight, and not very dark. . . He did not wear his hair long but just
over his ears, and he had a short black beard, well-shaped and thin. His face
was rather long and cheerful, he had fine eyes, and in his appearance and
manner could express geniality, or when necessary, a serious composure. He was
very neat and clean, and took a bath every afternoon (Diaz 225).
He was the keystone of an elaborate
social structure that included priests, warriors, merchants, professional
educators, and "prefects" who organized neighborhoods for street
cleaning and for farming. There was a far-reaching system of control over
people who were the conquered subjects of Montezuma's empire. Part of the
routine in the city was the ceremony in which a priest sliced open the chest of
a captive warrior or a law-breaker and raised the still-beating heart to the skies.
At the time our story begins, the Mexica performed this rite with
ever-increasing frequency, enough to bring protests from surrounding tribes.
Perhaps the Mexica (or Aztecs) sensed revolt brewing and were trying to terrify
their subjects.
The
year that Europeans number 1519 was also marked in the Mexica's complex
calendar as nearing the end of time. In their mythology, time cycled between
destruction and rebirth. The proof of the myth lay in nearby countryside, where
anyone could find the ruins of previous empires with even grander artwork and
pyramids.
So
the emperor Montezuma lived every day with the deep religious sense that all
his efforts to hold his empire together were doomed. The sign was predicted to
be the appearance of a bearded god Quetzalcoatl, the god who supposedly hated
human sacrifice. The Mexica's calendar predicted that, if Quetzalcoatl appeared
in such-and-such a year, he would "strike" at old women, or at
children another year; but if he appeared in that year of 1519, he would
"strike at kings" (Thomas 184). News arrived on the mainland of
Mexico from the islands that peoples there were being enslaved and killed, and
Montezuma puzzled over a parchment brought to him by messengers that depicted
conquerors who apparently floated across the waters on pyramids!
What
Montezuma saw in those pictures were ships and their pyramid-shaped sails.
These ships were carrying Spanish “conquistadors” who explored and conquered
the islands beyond where Columbus had explored in the 1490s.
Now
that the dreaded day of doom for kings seemed to arrive, Montezuma cast about
for reassurance and advice. Spies brought news from the outskirts of his
empire. Ships had come ashore bearing around two hundred bearded men in armor,
with unfamiliar weapons: cannon, arquebuses (shotguns with bell-shaped
openings), and metal swords. They rode on magnificent animals that carried them
at high speeds. Montezuma watched their progress from afar via spies, and saw
how they marched closer to the center of his empire. Montezuma told an agent to
observe the leader of this band, to see whether he eats, or whether he might
really be a god. "If he is, greet him and give him . . . presents from me.
. . . Then tell him to allow me to die. Tell him that, after my death, he will
be welcome to come here and take possession of his kingdom" (Thomas 189).
Cortes Makes His Way to the Heart of the Aztec Empire
The man who received these gifts was
not a god, but he wasn't a typical conquistador either. He was a Spanish lawyer
named Hernan Cortes, who left his career to search for gold and glory years. He
enlisted with the commanders Pizzaro and Velasquez, who were making names for
themselves in the new world. Cortes was unimpressive looking, under five and a
half feet tall, thin, pale, bow-legged, with a reddish patchy beard. But when
he won some position among the conquistadors, he let everyone know that he was
important by adding plumes and jewelry to his armor.
Under
orders from commander Velasquez to stay on the island of Cuba, Cortes
disobeyed, and took seven ships full of soldiers to look for riches on the
Yucatan peninsula. Once the men reached shore, Cortes set the ships on fire!
With no way back to their headquarters at Cuba, soldiers had to follow Cortes
into the unknown. From the natives he met, using a translator, Cortes learned
of the god-king Montezuma, the vast Aztec empire, and of the great riches to be
found in Tenochtitlan. Cortes imagined that he, with just 200 men, could
somehow meet and overcome this emperor, and could hand the whole thing over to
the kind of Spain — for rich reward and glory beyond measure, of course.
Cortes
succeeded, working his way through small villages on his way to the heart of
Montezuma's empire. He won partly by intimidation; peoples saw his weapons and
surrendered. But he spoke kindly, and he always did what the King of Spain had
commanded conquistadors to do: he claimed each village for the King, and he
offered good relations to all who accepted Christ — with a threat of violence
if they did not. The Spanish purposefully copied this winning technique from
the Islamic Moors who had conquered Spain!
On
his way to the heart of Montezuma's empire, Cortes picked up another remarkable
person, Malinali, the fallen princess. Her father was a lord, and her mother
was a queen, but the father had died and the mother had sold Malinali. Passed
from owner to owner, she was still a young woman when her latest owners offered
her to Cortes to be his mistress. Impressed by her intelligence and her
willingness to serve, Cortes taught her Spanish, and she became
"Marina," his translator in all his dealings with Montezuma. Neither
the Spanish nor the Mexica expected women to live outside the rounds of
household duties, so her involvement was outstanding by itself. Beyond that,
she’s remarkable for her own cleverness, and historians try to guess at her own
motives and feelings for the things she did.
Montezuma
did what he could to delay the day of doom. For example, he welcomed Cortes
almost daily with gifts and mixed messages. For example, he welcomed Cortes to
the city of Tenochtitlan, but added that the road was bad, and there wasn't
enough good food to feed his men. Meanwhile, he also prepared an ambush.
Marina
warned Cortes. An old Indian woman came to her secretly one night, to urge her
to escape while she could, because the Spaniards would be killed in a surprise
attack as they passed through a ravine on their way to the next town of
Cholula. Marina instead passed this news to Cortes, who launched a pre-emptive
strike. Cortes tricked Cholulan leaders into meeting him in their own temple,
and there his soldiers ambushed them. He spent two days killing Cholulans,
making a public spectacle that would terrify the rest of Montezuma's empire out
of their will to resist him. He had their idols torn down, the temple
white-washed and turned into a church.
Meeting
of the Gods
Now Cortes made straight for
Tenochtitlan, and Montezuma made up his mind to welcome him rather than try to
resist. Cortes and his entourage were impressed by the beautiful city, and by
the procession that met them halfway across the causeway, and by the god-king
who descended from a magnificent litter. Montezuma’s people lay down cloaks so
that his feet would not touch the ground, and they averted their eyes. Cortes
dismounted his horse. Cortes attempted to place a necklace around Montezuma's
neck, but four Mexican attendants stopped him. After this awkward meeting, the
two leaders complimented each other, Marina translating, and entered the city.
Over
the next days, the two leaders developed a kind of friendship. They exchanged
many gifts. Montezuma placed the men in comfortable quarters, well-attended,
and Cortes ordered them to stay put until they all had a better sense of local
customs — and a better sense of their position, for warriors surrounded them at
all times.
Talking
of their gods, the two men ended up laughing. Cortes explained the
Judeo-Christian story of God's creation of the world. Cortes told Montezuma
that all people are children of Adam and Eve, and he explained how the worship
of false gods would lead Montezuma's people to suffer in hell. Montezuma
replied that he had heard all this before, through his spies in all those
villages where Cortes had passed. He said that the Christians' Father, Son, and
Holy Spirit were good gods to worship, "no doubt," but "do not
trouble to tell us any more about them at present" (Diaz 223). Montezuma
said their stories told of a god who created the earth, and also had correctly
predicted Cortes's coming from the direction of sunrise. Montezuma had heard
stories about the Spanish with sticks that shot lightning, "But now that
he had seen us, he knew that we were flesh and blood and very intelligent, also
very brave." Montezuma laughed at how he had been afraid that these men
were gods, and he assured Cortes that he was only flesh and blood, too:
"It is true that I am a great king . . . but the lies and nonsense you
have heard or us are not true. You must take them as a joke, as I take the
story of your thunders and lightnings." Cortes laughed, too (Diaz 224).
But there was fear under the surface of this friendship.
Cortes's
officers confronted their commander with fears that this might all be a trap,
and Cortes replied, "Do not imagine, gentlemen, that I am asleep . . . .
What scheme or trick can we devise to prevent [Montezuma] from summoning his
soldiers to attack us at once?" Together they arrived at a plan to kidnap
the king in his own city! They would invite Montezuma out of his palace to the
Spanish headquarters, and then hold him as a hostage at knife point. The plan
would have failed, if not for the help of Marina. Cortes had tried for half an
hour to convince Montezuma to go with him, when an impatient Spaniard "in
his usual high and terrifying voice" sharply interrupted Cortes to ask,
"What is the use of all these words? Either we take him or we knife
him." While Cortes was distracted, Montezuma asked the translator what was
happening, and Marina replied, "Lord Montezuma, I advise you to accompany
them immediately to their quarters and make no protest. I know they will treat
you very honorably . . . but if you stay here, you will be a dead man"
(Diaz 247).
Cortes
played "good cop" with his hostage, making Montezuma grateful to be
his prisoner! Cortes always bowed and doffed his helmet to Montezuma and
treated him to polite speech and luxuries. He let Montezuma see whomever he
wished each day. But Cortes also secretly instructed translators to have little
private chats with Montezuma to tell him that the other officers were eager to
kill their prisoner, that Cortes alone protected his life.
Eventually,
as often happens with hostages, Montezuma began to see his captor as his only
friend, and he feared even his own people. His warriors came to him eager to
rescue him, but Montezuma feared what might happen next: there would be a
massacre of Spaniards, then more Spaniards would come in greater numbers for
revenge and destroy his kingdom. But Montezuma also feared letting his people
see that he was afraid! So he delayed by claiming that a god was speaking to
him, telling him to remain prisoner. He explained all of this to Cortes, who
embraced him and praised him. "How right I am, Lord Montezuma, to love you
as dearly as I love myself" (Diaz 250)! For weeks, they dined together,
talked religion, had Christian mass together, and bet each other on a
coin-tossing game. Montezuma had become a kind of puppet king, with Cortes
pulling the strings.
When the Cat's Away . . .
Cortes was on the verge of getting the
vast Aztec empire without a fight, when he was called away. He put his
second-in-command in charge, with disastrous results. Cortes heard that his
superior Velasquez had sent an army to bring Cortes back, and Cortes led troops
out to meet the challenge. Leaving his officer Pedro de Alvarado in charge of the
remaining men, with the god-king Montezuma as hostage, Cortes thought that his
hold over the Aztec warriors was safe.
But
Alvarado grew alarmed because the Mexica people seemed to be preparing for some
big event. In fact, they were preparing for their greatest annual festival.
They asked Alvarado permission to hold it as usual and he granted it. But as he
saw the vast numbers of people, and the setting up of the altar, Alvarado grew
to believe rumors that this was all a plot to surprise the Spaniards, that he
and his men would be human sacrifices on the altars. So he made plans to
pre-empt the imagined plot.
On
the night of the great ceremony, the warriors of the Mexica were to step in the
ritual dance for the gods. They believed that any misstep in the dance would
bring disaster for their people. While they danced, and the music played,
Alvarado and his men appeared in small groups, looking on as if they were just
interested in seeing the dance. Soon, the Spaniards were mingling with the
leaders of Mexica society, as all watched the dance. At a signal, the firing of
a gun, the Spanish soldiers surged forward, slicing through the necks and arms
of the priests who played the drums for the dance, and more soldiers came up
with firearms and swords to slaughter others within their trap. All the while,
the dancing men felt that they must continue the dance, desperate now to please
their gods, and the dancers fell to the attack. After the massacre of their
priests and soldiers, people in the city rose up and drove Alvarado and his men
into one quarter of the city, where they still held Montezuma as a hostage.
Incredibly,
Montezuma rescued Alvarado. He stepped out before the crowd and ordered them to
cease the attack. From then on, the remaining warriors lost all respect for
him, and his nephew would soon become king of the doomed empire.
Days
later, Cortes returned victorious, to an eerily quiet city. The Spaniards were
trapped and starving; the people were frightened and mourning their dead; all
were staying indoors.
The End, The Beginning
Cortes used Montezuma one last time. He
declared their friendship over, blaming him for the supposed plot to kill
Alavarado. Desperate, Montezuma tried to save his own people and his own ebbing
power, standing before them on the rooftop of the building where warriors were
poised to attack the Spaniards with stones and darts. The warriors stopped to
hear Montezuma plead for peace: Let the Spaniards go, and they will leave us in
peace, he said. Then his own people threw stones at him. Montezuma was hit by
three stones, to an arm, a leg, and his head, killed by the hands of his own
people.
Cortes
himself was injured, but ultimately was successful in a drive to escape the
city. Outside, he was able to gather strength from the other Indian tribes.
They were eager to overthrow the hated Mexica who had enslaved them for two
hundred years.
Diaz,
a priest and eye-witness, wrote about these things decades later, when he was
old, blind, and deaf. He saw the hand of God in what seems even now to be a
miraculous set of events:
[Readers]
must wonder at the great deeds done in those days: first in destroying our
ships; then in daring to enter that strong city despite many warnings that they
would kill us once they had us inside; then in having the temerity to seize the
great Montezuma, king of that country, in his own city and inside his very
palace, and to throw him in chains while the execution was carried out. Now
that I am old, I often pause to consider the heroic actions of that time. I
seem to see them present before my eyes; and I believe that we performed them
not of our own volition but by the guidance of God. For what soldiers in the
world, numbering only four hundred — and we were even fewer — would have dared
to enter a city as strong as Mexico, which is larger than Venice and more than
four thousand five hundred miles away from our own Castile [Spain], and, having
seized so great a prince, execute his captains before his eyes? (Diaz 250)
For us, it may be harder to see this
daring piracy as the hand of God, but it remains a story, incredible but true,
that displays an intense crossing of cultures.
Sources
Cited in the Text
Diaz, Bernal. The Conquest of New
Spain. J.M. Cohen, trans. New York: Penguin, 1979.
Thomas, Hugh. Conquest: Montezuma,
Cortes, and the Fall of Old Mexico. New York: Simon
and Schuster, 1993.
