The Conquistadors (17 page)

The implacable determination of Cortés, his ruthless singleness of purpose, was something new to the Indian mind. It was surely the behaviour of a god, and, with this final message, Moctezuma seems to have decided he could no longer avoid the confrontation he dreaded. Special sacrifices and prayers produced the answer that undoubtedly matched the thoughts of his political and military advisers. A city built on water, where every causeway was protected against surprise by a series of drawbridges, constituted the ideal trap. If the Spaniards could be induced to enter the city with only the relatively small force of Tlaxcalans they had with them in Cholula, the drawbridges could be raised behind them and they could be dealt with at leisure, their hearts fed to the gods. This, at any rate, was what the Spanish soldiers believed; and, since it is not borne out by the reported behaviour and speeches of Moctezuma, we can only presume that there was already a conflict of policy between the king and his chief military advisers. He himself appears to have decided that no further attempt should be made to obstruct the Spanish advance, for he dispatched six of his chiefs with a present of gold and jewels and a speech of welcome: ‘Our lord the great Moctezuma sends this present, and begs you to accept it with the great love he has for you and all your brothers. He says that the wrong which the people of Cholula did you grieves him greatly and that he wishes to visit further punishment upon them, for they are a wicked and lying people, in that they tried to lay the blame on him and his ambassadors for the crime they attempted to commit.'And the message went on to say that Cortés could come to the city whenever he wished.

So the final stages of the march into Mexico began.

On a field of his own choosing, and supported by large numbers of his Indian allies, Cortés had a reasonable chance of defeating the Mexicans in battle. But many of his Zempoalans were convinced that the Spaniards would be marching into a trap, that not one of them would escape from Mexico alive – they would either be killed or sacrificed to the Aztec gods. And since they requested leave to return to their homes, Cortés loaded them with presents and let them go. Nevertheless, when he finally began this last stage of his march, he claims that he had with him ‘four thousand Indians from Tlaxcala, Huejotzingo, Cholula and Zempoala'. The number was almost certainly very much larger, but what is interesting about this statement is that the Cholulans were now marching with the army. Not only had they mounted a treacherous attack on the Spaniards, but, according to Tapia, the Spaniards, or more probably their Indian allies, had retaliated by doing everything possible to destroy the holy city; Cortés had not put a stop to the destruction for two whole days. It only goes to prove that here, as in many parts of the world today, the ruthless use of force induced respect, even admiration, rather than hatred.

It is not clear how long Cortés had stayed in Cholula, but it was long enough for him to receive the embassy from Moctezuma and also for him to send a detachment of ten soldiers to reconnoitre the pass between the two volcanoes. In fact, they very nearly reached the top of Popocatépetl itself, a remarkable achievement since the mountain was then in the throes of a minor eruption. Their report confirmed that there was a good track through the pass, and since it was the most direct route Cortés decided to take it, even though it meant climbing to over 11,000 feet.

The approach march, which passed near Huejotzingo, an Indian town allied to Tlaxcala, was south of the route advised by Moctezuma's chiefs. This would have taken them across the north flank of Iztaccihuatl, roughly the line of the present motor road. The altitude would have been lower, but the track passed through Culhúan territory to Chalco, a Mexican-held city, and Cortés was not to be deflected from his purpose even by the assurance of a plentiful supply of food. He may have feared a trap, but there is no doubt that the main attraction of the Huejotzingo route was the desire to add to his force of Indian auxiliaries. This would explain why the army made only so few miles on the first day.

They stopped the night at Calpan, just short of the twin hills that are so similar in outline to the huge range they were about to climb. This settlement was very close to Huejotzingo and the chiefs and priests of the town came out to meet them with food and small gifts of gold. Bernal Díaz says they warned Cortés that when he reached the top of the pass he would find two tracks; one had been blocked by felled trees so that it was impassable for horses, the other had been cleared. If the Spaniards took the cleared track, they would suddenly find it blocked by earth and here the Mexicans would be waiting for them in ambush behind ditches and barricades. More to the point, they offered him ‘plenty of men' to help the Tlaxcalans clear the trees on the blocked path. The army must have marched again at first light, for Bernal Díaz says they reached the pass a little before mid-day. There is no suggestion that they bivouacked a night at the foot of the mountains – Cortés merely states that ‘two days after leaving Cholula we climbed the pass'. If they did not pause on the way, then the army covered about fifteen miles and climbed four thousand feet in under six hours, a quite incredible achievement since, in the latter stages of what is a pretty steep climb, they would be suffering from the effects of the altitude and also from the cold – the snow line of Popocatépetl reaches down almost into the pass. A probable explanation is that Bernal Díaz was in an advance party sent on ahead to secure the pass. As they reached the top, marked now by the only monument to Cortés in the whole of Mexico, it began to snow.

The information about the two routes down from the pass proved correct. The right hand path, which led to Tlamanalco, a settlement very close to Chalco, had been cleared for them; the other, leading down to Amecameca and following roughly the line of the present road, had been blocked by trees. When Cortés demanded an explanation from the Mexican chiefs, they said it had been done to ensure that the Spaniards went by way of Chalco where they would be fully provided for. It must have struck him as an odd way of signposting the route. At any rate, he took the Amecameca path. By the time the Tlaxcalans and their allies had manhandled the fir trees out of the way dusk was closing in, and with the snow still falling and lying thick on the ground, the army had a cold night of it in the shelter of some shacks. However, Cortés says they did not lack for timber to make fires; probably only the sentinels and patrols suffered from the cold.

It was all downhill after that, and in the flat country around Amecameca, where they camped the night, food was plentiful again. They were now into the curious geographical phenomenon that had attracted so many waves of Indian settlement – the great upland valley of Mexico, which lies at a height of 7,250 feet and is more than half-encircled by mountains, the source of water for a whole complex of large, shallow lakes. These have now almost all been drained, but at that time extensive irrigation combined with the sunshine and the clarity of the air at that altitude to make it a land of quite unbelievable plenty. Like much of the country the Spaniards had already marched through, it had something of the quality of the Estremadura – the sense of space, the wide skies, the hot sun, and always the mountain vista in the distance. Here, however, the hills that rose up out of the plain were not old rock hills, but bare, bleak slag heaps, the lava pustules of recent volcanic action.

At Amecameca they were still outside the ring of lakeside city-states that constituted the Culhúan confederacy. Indians poured into the camp from all the neighbouring towns, including Chalco, full of curiosity to see the
teules.
They brought presents of gold and cloaks and women, and their chiefs made the usual complaints about Moctezuma, accusing his tax-gatherers of robbing them of all they possessed, of violating their wives and daughters in front of them and recruiting their men for forced labour. Asked about the swept route, they said that all traces of the ambush had been removed and that the war god had now advised Moctezuma that the Spaniards were to be destroyed in Mexico itself. By then. Cortés was fairly accurately informed about the city. He knew that its canals and drawbridges constituted a potential trap from which he had little hope of escape. Yet he did not falter in his resolve, or even hesitate.

He marched again in the morning, and almost immediately he was met by a fresh embassy from Moctezuma with more gold and more richly designed cloaks, and this message:

Malinche, this present is sent to you by our lord the great Moctezuma, who says that he is sorry you have endured so many hardships in travelling from far distant lands to see him, and that he has already sent to tell you that he will give you much gold and silver and many
chalchihuites
[the jade plaques that the Mexicans prized above everything for their colour and rarity] as a tribute for your Emperor and yourself and the
teules
of your company, provided you do not come to Mexico. Now he begs you once more kindly not to advance any further, but to return whence you came, and he will send to the port a great quantity of gold and silver and precious stones for your king, and to you he will give four loads of gold, and to each of your brothers one load. Your entry into Mexico, however, is forbidden. All his vassals are in arms to prevent it. What is more, there is only the narrowest of roads, and no food there for you to eat.

Cortés' reply to this was polite, but firm: If the Mexicans had not enough food
to supply his men, then it did not matter, they were all of them hardy and could exist on very little. He was now on the final stage of his march to Mexico and he expected Moctezuma to welcome him to his city. This was the last of the ambassadorial exchanges. In all of them Cortés had had the benefit of Doña Marina as his interpreter. She had been at his side ever since he had entered Náhuatl-speaking territory. She was much more than a captive Indian princess acting as interpreter. She was a part of the expedition. She rode with Cortes, accompanied him everywhere, in the dual role of his mouthpiece and his adviser on Indian affairs, interpreting not only their speeches, but also their intentions.

This remarkable woman had, in fact, so identified herself with Cortés that she had become in effect his
alter ego
. It was she who, through an Indian woman, had uncovered the plot at Cholula, and her interpretation of his speeches to the Indians so matched the force and determination of the Spanish original that it is probably true to say that she did more to further his aims on the march to Mexico than the bravest of his captains. Indeed, the Indians themselves, in giving him the title Malinche in every formal speech, testify to the impact of her personality. Unable, like the Chinese, to sound the letter ‘r', they called her Malina, and in the duality of their manner and behaviour, Cortés, as her lord, was called Malinche. She was almost certainly in love with him – at any rate, she gave herself to him and eventually bore him a son. But whatever the nature of their personal relations, the fact is that, without the proud and dominant character of this Indian princess to convey his thoughts, it is doubtful whether Cortés would ever have reached Mexico other than as a captive. There is much more to interpretation than mere accuracy of translation, and the paralysing effect of Cortés' personality on Moctezuma – a virtual hypnotizing of the Mexican king, from a distance, into a state of fearful inactivity – was very largely her doing.

The Spaniards spent the night at Ayotcingo on the edge of Chalco Lake, where for the first time they saw Indian houses built half out into the water. Early the next morning, just as they were starting out to cross by the causeway that passed through Cuitlahuac, four nobles arrived, with a large crowd of Mexicans, to announce the approach of Cacama. For Cortés this was the equivalent of a major victory. Cacama was a nephew of Moctezuma, lord of Texcoco, twin city of the Culhúan alliance. ‘He came borne on a litter, most richly worked in green feathers with much silver decoration and precious stones set in tree designs that were worked in the finest gold.' On being set down, he made a deep bow and said: ‘Malinche, we have come here, I and these chieftains, to place ourselves at your service, and to see that you receive everything you require for yourself and your companions and to instal you in your home, which is our city. For so we have been commanded by our lord the great Moctezuma, who asks you to pardon him for not coming with us himself. It is on account of ill-health and not from lack of very good will towards you that he has not done so.'

Still no meeting with Moctezuma, but it was clear from Cacama's speech that
the opposition to his entry into Mexico was crumbling. Or was it merely the mouth of the trap opening? If he felt that, Cortés does not admit it. Nevertheless, the position was extremely dangerous. He had had sentries posted throughout the night against surprise attack and they had killed more than a dozen Indian spies who had come in by canoe. His Tlaxcalan irregulars were undoubtedly nervous and even his four hundred Spaniards must have been very conscious of the fact that they were now nearing the end of the long road up from the coast, about to enter a forbidden city whose warriors had terrorized all the country through which they had marched. Yet Bernal Díaz' manuscript gives no indication of this. Instead, his photographic mind concentrates on recording the impact of that first view of the Valley as they approached the city of Iztapalapa. They had crossed the Cuitlahuac causeway and as they skirted the north shore of the lake, the fantastic view across the main Texcoco lake opened up before them:

And when we saw all those cities and villages built in the water, and other great towns on dry land, and that straight and level causeway leading to Mexico, we were astounded. These great towns and cúes and buildings rising from the water, all made of stone, seemed like an enchanted vision … It was all so wonderful … this first glimpse of things never heard of, seen or dreamed of before.