Chapter IV: On the Mainland (6)

The danger he had escaped was too great for the fugitive to mind some slight bruises caused by his fall, so he jumped up, and taking his bearings, made straight for the little door which stood between him and freedom. When he reached it he felt in his pocket for the key, and a cold sweat broke out on his face as he found it was not there. Had he forgotten it in his room, or had he lost it in his descent?

Collecting his thoughts as well as he could, he soon came to the conclusion that it must have fallen out of his pocket as he climbed down the rope. So he made his way a second time cautiously across the court, trying to discover the exact spot where it might be, by the aid of the wall of a cistern, which he had caught hold of to raise himself from the ground. But the lost key was so small and so insignificant, that there was little chance that he would ever see it. However, it was his last resource, and Caesar was searching for it with all his might, when suddenly a door opened and the night patrol came out, preceded by two torches. At first Caesar gave himself up for lost, then, remembering the water-butt that was behind him, he at once plunged into it up to his neck, watching with intense anxiety the movements of the soldiers who were advancing towards his hiding place. They passed him within a few feet, crossed the court, and vanished through the door opposite; but, though all this had taken such a very short time, the light of the torches had enabled Caesar to distinguish the key lying on the ground, and hardly had the gate closed on the soldiers when he was once more master of his liberty.

Half-way between the castle and the village the Count of Benevento and Michelotto awaited him with a led horse. Caesar flung himself on its back and all three set out for Navarre, where, after three days' hard riding, they found an asylum with the king, Jean d'Albret, brother of Caesar's wife.

FOOTNOTE:

[27] What follows is translated from Dumas.

_THE KIDNAPPING OF THE PRINCES_

(_The following story is adapted from Carlyle's Essay, 'The Prinzenraub'_)

ABOUT the year 1455, one of the Electors of Saxony, Friedrich der Sanftmuetige (Frederick the Mild), quarrelled with a certain knight named Konrad von Kaufungen. Friedrich had hired Konrad, or Kunz as he was called, to fight for him in a war against another Elector. In one of the battles, Kunz was taken prisoner. To ransom himself he was obliged to pay 4,000 gold gulden, for which he thought Friedrich ought to repay him. Friedrich refused to do so, as Kunz was not his vassal whom he was bound to protect, but only a hired soldier who had to take all risks on himself. Kunz was very angry, and threatened to revenge himself on the Elector, who took all his threats very calmly, saying to him, 'Keep cool, Kunz; don't burn the fish in the ponds.' But Kunz was in bitter earnest. He went away to an old castle called Isenburg in Bohemia, on the Saxon frontier, where he lived for some time with his two squires, Mosen and Schoenberg, plotting against the Elector and his family. He had, moreover, bribed one of the Elector's servants, Hans Schwalbe, to tell him all that was being done in his castle of Altenburg. In July, Schwalbe sent word to him that, on the seventh day of the month, the Elector and most of his followers were going away to Leipzig, and would leave the Electress and his two boys, Ernst and Albrecht, guarded only by a few servants, and these, he added, would probably spend the evening drinking in the town. Now the castle of Altenburg was built on a steep hill, and one side of it overhung a precipice. As this side was little guarded, Hans agreed to let down a rope-ladder from one of the windows, and thus enable Kunz to get an entrance into the castle. His plan then was to make his way to the sleeping room of the two little princes, carry them off to his castle at Isenburg, and keep them till their father should grant his demands. Isenburg Castle was about a day's journey from the little town of Altenburg; so Kunz and his two squires, Mosen and Schoenberg, and a few other men, started early on the 7th to ride to Altenburg, and when they reached it they hid themselves till nightfall. About midnight Kunz and his men went as quietly as possible to the foot of the cliff. Everyone seemed asleep in the castle, and outside no sound was to be heard but the stealthy tramp of the armed men. When they reached the rendezvous under the castle, Kunz gave his men their orders. Mosen, Schoenberg, and three or four more were to come with him into the castle, and, when inside, to lock the doors of the Electress's and the servants' room, while the rest were to guard the gates in order that no one should escape to give the alarm. Each was to be ready when once the princes were secured to ride away for Isenburg as hard as possible.

Then Kunz whistled softly. He listened for a moment; another whistle answered his own, and a rope-ladder was slowly lowered from one of the windows. Kunz mounted it, and made his way to the room where the two little princes were sleeping under the charge of an old governess. He seized the eldest, a boy of fourteen, and carried him down the ladder, and Mosen followed with a second child in his arms. This boy kept calling out, 'I am not one of the princes; I am their playfellow, Count von Bardi. Let me go! Let me go!' Thereupon, telling the others to ride on with Prince Ernst in order to secure him, Kunz dashed up the ladder again, and ran to the princes' room, where he found little Prince Albrecht hiding under the bed. He caught him up and descended again with him. As he went, the Electress, roused by the boys' cries and finding her door bolted, rushed to the window and begged and implored him not to take her children.

'My husband shall grant all your demands, I swear to you,' she cried, 'only leave me my children!'

'Tell the Elector, Madam,' laughed Kunz, looking up, 'that I _can_ burn the fish in the ponds!'

Then he mounted his horse, which his servant was holding, and away they rode as fast as the horses would carry them. They had not ridden many miles before the clang of bells broke on their ears. The alarm peal of the castle had awakened that of the town, and in a few hours every bell in every belfry in Saxony was ringing an alarm. The sun rose, and Kunz and his followers plunged deeper into the forest, riding through morasses and swamps, over rough and stony ground--anywhere to escape from the din of those alarm bells. At last the ride for dear life was nearly over; the band was within an hour's journey of the castle of Isenburg, when Prince Albrecht declared that he was dying of thirst.

'For the love of Heaven, give me something to drink, Sir Knight,' he implored.

Kunz bade the others ride on, and giving his squire his horse to hold he dismounted, lifted Albrecht down, and began looking for bilberries for him.

Whilst he was doing so, a charcoal-burner with his dog came up. He was much surprised to see such grand people in the forest, and asked,

'What are you doing with the young lord?'

'He has run away from his parents,' answered Kunz, impatiently. 'Can you tell me where bilberries are to be found here?'

'I do not know,' replied the charcoal-burner, still staring at the strangers.

Anxious to make him leave them, Kunz turned angrily round on him, and in doing so caught his spurs in the bushes, and fell flat on his face.

Albrecht caught hold of the charcoal-burner's arm.

'Save me!' he whispered eagerly. 'I am the Elector's son; this man has stolen me!'

The squire struck at the Prince with his sword, but the charcoal-burner warded aside the blow with his long pole, and felled the man to the ground. Kunz fought fiercely with him, but in answer to his summons for help, and attracted by the barking of the dog, a number of other charcoal-burners appeared on the scene to help their comrade, and Kunz was disarmed and taken prisoner. They marched him in triumph to the monastery of Gruenheim, where he was secured in one of the cells, and in a few days was sent to Freiburg. On the 14th he was tried and condemned to death. It is said that a pardon was sent by the Elector, but if it were so it arrived too late, and Kunz was beheaded.

The rest of the robber-band with Prince Ernst did not fare much better. The alarm bells had aroused the whole country; six of the men were captured, and Mosen and the others with Prince Ernst took refuge in a cave near Zwickau. Not daring to venture out, and half starving for want of food, they lay there for three days in wretched plight. Then they learned accidentally from some woodmen, whose conversation they overheard, that Kunz had been taken prisoner, had been tried, and by this time was in all probability beheaded. As soon as they received this piece of intelligence, they held a consultation and finally decided to send a message to the Amtmann of Zwickau, offering to restore Prince Ernst if a free pardon were granted to them, but threatening, if this was refused, they would at once kill him. Had they known that Kunz was still alive, they might have stipulated for his pardon as well, but believing him dead, they made no terms as regards his fate. The Amtmann had no choice but to accede to their demands when their proposal reached him. Prince Ernst was given up. Mosen and the rest fled away, nor were they ever heard of any more.

When the brave charcoal-burner, Georg Schmidt, was brought before the Elector and his court, the Electress asked him how he had dared to fight the robber-knight with no weapon but his pole.

'Madam,' he replied, 'I gave him a sound "drilling" with my pole.'

All the court laughed, and thenceforward he was always called Georg der Triller (the Driller), and his descendants took this name as their surname. The only reward he would accept for his brave deed was leave for himself and his family to cut what wood they needed in the forest in which he lived.

The Electress and the two princes made a pilgrimage to the shrine at the monastery of Ebersdorf, and there in the church they hung up the coats which they and Kunz and the 'Triller' had worn on the memorable night when they were kidnapped, and there it is said they may be seen at this day.

_THE CONQUEST OF MONTEZUMA'S EMPIRE_

THE YOUTH OF CORTES

LONG ago, when Henry VIII. was King of England and Charles V. was King of Spain, there lived a young Spanish cavalier whose name was Hernando Cortes. His father, Don Martin Cortes, sent him to Salamanca when he was about fourteen years old, intending to have him educated as a lawyer. But Hernando cared nothing for books, and after wasting two years at college returned home, to the great annoyance of his parents, who were glad enough when, after another year of idleness, he proposed to go and seek his fortune in the New World so lately discovered by Columbus. An exploring expedition was just being fitted out, and Hernando Cortes had quite made up his mind to join it, when he unluckily fell from a high wall which he was climbing, and before he had recovered from his injuries the ships had sailed without him. Two more years did he remain at home after this misadventure, but at length, when he was nineteen years old, he joined a small fleet bound for the Indian Islands. The vessel in which he sailed was commanded by one Alonso Quintero, who, when they reached the Canary Islands, and all the other vessels were detained by taking in supplies, stole out of the harbour under cover of the night, meaning to reach Hispaniola before his companions, and so secure a better chance of trading. However, he met with a furious storm, and was driven back to the port with his ship dismasted and battered. The rest of the fleet generously consented to wait while his ship was being refitted, and after a short delay they set out again, but so soon as they neared the islands, the faithless Quintero again gave his companions the slip, but with no better success, for he met with such heavy gales that he entirely lost his reckoning, and for many days they tossed about helplessly, until one morning they were cheered by the sight of a white dove, which settled upon the rigging. Taking the direction of the bird's flight, they soon reached Hispaniola, where the captain had the satisfaction of finding all the other ships had arrived before him, and had sold all their cargoes. Cortes, as soon as he landed, went to see Ovando, the governor of the island, whom he had known in Spain, and presently was persuaded by him to accept a grant of land and settle down to cultivate it, though at first he said, 'I came to get gold, not to till the ground like a peasant.' So six years passed, during which the monotony of Cortes's life was only broken by occasional expeditions against the natives, in which he learned to endure toil and danger, and became familiar with the tactics of Indian warfare. At length, in 1511, when Diego Velasquez, the governor's lieutenant, undertook the conquest of Cuba, Cortes gladly accompanied him, and throughout the expedition made himself a favourite both with the commander and the soldiers. But when later on there arose discontent over the distribution of lands and offices, the malcontents fixed upon Cortes as the most suitable person to go back to Hispaniola, and lay their grievances before the higher authorities. This came to the ears of Velasquez, however, and he at once seized Cortes, whom he loaded with fetters and threw into prison. Luckily he soon succeeded in freeing himself from the irons, and letting himself down from the window took refuge in the nearest church, where he claimed the right of sanctuary. Velasquez, who was very angry at his escape, stationed a guard with orders to seize Cortes if he should leave the sanctuary, and this he was soon careless enough to do. As he stood outside the church an officer suddenly sprang upon him from behind, and made him prisoner once more. This time he was carried on board a ship which was to sail the next morning for Hispaniola, where he was to be tried, but again he managed to escape by dragging his feet through the rings which fettered them, and dropping silently over the ship's side into a little boat under cover of the darkness. As he neared the shore the water became so rough that the boat was useless, and he was forced to swim the rest of the way; but at last he got safely to land, and again took refuge in the church. After this he married a lady named Catalina Xuarez, and by the aid of her family managed to make his peace with Velasquez. Cortes now received a large estate near St. Jago, where he lived prosperously for some years, and even amassed a considerable sum of money. But at last news came of an exploring expedition which had set out in 1518 under Grijalva, the nephew of Velasquez. He had touched at various places on the Mexican coast, and had held a friendly conference with one cacique, or chief, who seemed desirous of collecting all the information he could about the Spaniards, and their motives in visiting Mexico, that he might transmit it to his master, the Aztec emperor. Presents were exchanged at this interview, and in return for a few glass beads, pins, and such paltry trifles, the Spaniards had received such a rich treasure of jewels and gold ornaments that the general at once sent back one of his ships under the command of Don Pedro de Alvarado to convey the spoil, and acquaint the governor of Cuba with the progress of the expedition, and also with all the information he had been able to glean respecting the Aztec emperor and his dominions. Now in those days nothing whatever was known about the interior of the country or of its inhabitants--it was as strange to the explorers as another planet.

THE WONDERS OF MEXICO

This was what they had to tell the governor. Far away towards the Pacific Ocean there stood, in a beautiful and most fertile valley, the capital of a great and powerful empire, called by its inhabitants 'Tenochtitlan,' but known to the Europeans only by its other name of 'Mexico,' derived from 'Mexitli,' the war-god of the Aztecs. These Aztecs seem to have come originally from the north, and after many wanderings to have halted at length on the south-western borders of a great lake, of which there were several in the Mexican valley. This celebrated valley was situated at a height of about 7,500 feet above the sea, and was oval in form, about 67 leagues in circumference, and surrounded by towering rocks, which seemed to be meant to protect it from invasion. It was in the year 1325 that the Aztecs paused upon the shore of the lake, and saw, as the sun rose, a splendid eagle perched upon a prickly pear which shot out of a crevice in the rock. It held a large serpent in its claws, and its broad wings were opened towards the rising sun. The Aztecs saw in this a most favourable omen, and there and then set about building themselves a city, laying its foundations upon piles in the marshy ground beside the lake, and to this day the eagle and the cactus form the arms of the Mexican republic.

The little body of settlers increased rapidly in number and power, and made their name terrible throughout the valley, in which various other tribes had long been settled, until at last they united themselves with the king of the Tezcucans, to aid him against a tribe called the Tepanecs, who had invaded his territory. The allies were completely successful, and this led to an agreement between the states of Mexico, Tezcuco, and Tlacopan, that they should support each other in all their wars, and divide all the spoils between them. This alliance remained unbroken for over a hundred years and under a succession of able princes the Aztec dominion grew, till at the coming of the Spaniards it reached across the continent, from the Atlantic to the Pacific Ocean. The Aztecs had many wise laws and institutions, and were indeed in some respects a highly civilised community. When their emperor died a new one was chosen from among his sons or nephews, by four nobles. The one preferred was obliged to have distinguished himself in war, and his coronation did not take place until a successful campaign had provided enough captives to grace his triumphal entry into the capital, and enough victims for the ghastly sacrifices which formed an important part of all their religious ceremonies. Communication was held with the remotest parts of the country by means of couriers, who, trained to it from childhood, travelled with amazing swiftness. Post-houses were established on the great roads, and the messenger bearing his despatches in the form of hieroglyphical paintings, ran to the first station, where they were taken by the next messenger and carried forward, being sent in one day a hundred or two hundred miles. Thus fish was served at the banquets of the emperor Montezuma which twenty-four hours before had been caught in the Gulf of Mexico, two hundred miles away. Thus too the news was carried when any war was going on, and as the messengers ran to acquaint the court with the movements of the royal armies, the people by the way knew whether the tidings were good or bad by the dress of the courier. But the training of warriors was the chief end and aim of all Aztec institutions. Their principal god was the god of war, and one great object of all their expeditions was the capture of victims to be sacrificed upon his altars. They believed that the soldier who fell in battle was transported at once to the blissful regions of the sun, and they consequently fought with an utter disregard of danger. The dress of the warriors was magnificent. Their bodies were protected by a vest of quilted cotton, impervious to light missiles, and over this the chiefs wore mantles of gorgeous feather-work, and the richer of them a kind of cuirass of gold or silver plates. Their helmets were of wood, fashioned like the head of some wild animal, or of silver surmounted by plumes of variously coloured feathers, sprinkled with precious stones, beside which they wore many ornaments of gold, and their banners were embroidered with gold and feather-work.

The Aztecs worshipped thirteen principal gods, and more than two hundred of less importance, each of whom, however, had his day of festival, which was duly observed. At the head of all stood the war-god, the terrible Huitzilopochtli, whose fantastic image was loaded with costly ornaments, and whose temples, in every city of the empire, were the most splendid and stately. The Aztecs also had a legend that there had once dwelt upon the earth the great Quetzalcoatl, god of the air, under whose sway all things had flourished and all people had lived in peace and prosperity; but he had in some way incurred the wrath of the principal gods, and was compelled to leave the country. On his way he stopped at the city of Cholula, where a temple was dedicated to him, of which the great ruins remain to this day. When he reached the shores of the Mexican Gulf he embarked in his magic boat, made of serpents' skins, for the fabulous land of Tlapallan, but before he bade his followers farewell he promised that he and his descendants would one day come again. The Aztecs confidently looked forward to the return of their benevolent god, who was said to have been tall in stature, with a white skin, long dark hair, and a flowing beard, and this belief of theirs prepared the way, as you will presently see, for the success of Cortes.[28] The Mexican temples, or teocallis as they were called--which means 'Houses of God'--were very numerous, there being several hundreds of them in each of the principal cities. They looked rather like the Egyptian pyramids, and were divided into four or five stories, each one being smaller than the one below it, and the ascent was by a flight of steps at an angle of the pyramid. This led to a sort of terrace at the base of the second story, which passed quite round the building to another flight of steps immediately over the first, so that it was necessary to go all round the temple several times before reaching the summit. The top was a broad space on which stood two towers, forty or fifty feet high, which contained the images of the gods. Before these towers stood the dreadful stone of sacrifice, and two lofty altars on which the sacred fires burned continually. Human sacrifices were adopted by the Aztecs about two hundred years before the coming of the Spaniards. Rare at first, they became more and more frequent till at length nearly every festival closed with this cruel abomination. The unhappy victim was held by five priests upon the stone of sacrifice, while the sixth, who was clothed in a scarlet mantle, emblematic of his horrible office, cut open his breast with a sharp razor of 'itztli,' a volcanic substance as hard as flint, and tearing out his heart, held it first up to the sun, which they worshipped, and then cast it at the feet of the god to whom the temple was devoted; and to crown the horror, the body of the captive thus sacrificed was afterwards given to the warrior who had taken him in battle, who thereupon gave a great banquet and served him up amid choice dishes and delicious beverages for the entertainment of his friends. When the great teocalli of Huitzilopochtli was dedicated in the year 1486, no less than 70,000 prisoners were thus sacrificed, and in the whole kingdom every year the victims were never fewer than 20,000, or, as some old writers say, 50,000. The Aztec writing was not with letters and words, but consisted of little coloured pictures, each of which had some special meaning. Thus a 'tongue' denoted speaking, a 'footprint' travelling, a 'man sitting on the ground' an earthquake. As a very slight difference in position or colour intimated a different meaning, this writing was very difficult to read, and in the Aztec colleges the priests specially taught it to their pupils. At the time of the coming of the Spaniards there were numbers of people employed in this picture-writing, but unfortunately hardly any of the manuscripts were preserved; for the Spaniards, looking upon them as magic scrolls, caused them to be burned by thousands. In many mechanical arts the Aztecs had made considerable progress. Their ground was well cultivated, they had discovered and used silver, lead, tin, and copper. Gold, which was found in the river-beds, they cast into bars, or used as money by filling transparent quills with gold dust. They also made many fantastic ornaments of gold and silver, and cast gold and silver vessels, which they carved delicately with chisels. Some of the silver vases were so large that a man could not encircle them with his arms. But the art in which they most delighted was the wonderful feather-work. With the gorgeous plumage of the tropical birds they could produce all the effect of a beautiful mosaic. The feathers, pasted upon a fine cotton web, were wrought into dresses for the wealthy, hangings for their palaces, and ornaments for their temples.

These then were the people of whom Grijalva sent back to Cuba a few vague reports, and these, and the accounts of the splendour of the treasure, spread like wildfire through the island. The governor having resolved to send out more ships to follow up these discoveries, looked about him for a suitable person to command the expedition and share the expenses of it, and being recommended by several of his friends to choose Hernando Cortes, he presently did so. Cortes had now attained his heart's desire, and at once began with the utmost energy to purchase and fit out the ships. He used all the money he had saved, and as much more as he could persuade his friends to lend him, and very soon he was in possession of six vessels, and three hundred recruits had enrolled themselves under his banner. His orders were, first, to find Grijalva and to proceed in company with him; then to seek out and rescue six Christians, the survivors of a previous expedition, who were supposed to be lingering in captivity in the interior; and to bear in mind, before all things, that it was the great desire of the Spanish monarch that the Indians should be converted to Christianity. They were to be invited to give their allegiance to him, and to send him presents of gold and jewels to secure his favour and protection. The explorers were also to survey the coast, acquaint themselves with the general features of the country, and to barter with the natives.

THE BEGINNING OF THE EXPEDITION

But before Cortes was ready to start, a jealousy and distrust of him took possession of the mind of Velasquez, so that he determined to entrust the command of the fleet to someone else. This came to the ears of Cortes, and he with great promptitude assembled his officers secretly, and that very night set sail with what supplies he was able to lay hands upon, his ships being neither ready for sea nor properly provisioned. When morning broke news was carried to Velasquez that the fleet was under weigh, and he rose hastily and galloped down to the quay. Cortes rowed back to within speaking distance.

'This is a courteous way of taking leave of me, truly,' cried the governor.

'Pardon me,' answered Cortes, 'time presses, and there are some things that should be done before they are even thought of.' And with that he returned to his vessel, and the little fleet sailed away to Macaca, where Cortes laid in more stores. This was on November 18, 1518. Shortly afterwards he proceeded to Trinidad, a town on the south coast of Cuba, where he landed, and setting up his standard, invited all who would to join the expedition, holding out to them great hopes of wealth to be gained. Volunteers flocked in daily, including many young men of noble family, who were attracted by the fame of Cortes. Among them were Pedro de Alvarado, Cristoval de Olid, Alonso de Avila, Juan Velasquez de Leon, Alonso Hernandez de Puertocarrero, and Gonzalo de Sandoval, of all of whom you will hear again before the story is finished. Finally, in February 1519, when all the reinforcements were assembled, Cortes found he had eleven vessels, one hundred and ten mariners, five hundred and fifty-three soldiers, and two hundred Indians. He also had sixteen horses, ten large guns, and four lighter, which were called falconets. Cortes, before embarking, addressed his little army, saying that he held out to them a glorious prize, and that if any among them coveted riches, he would make them masters of such as their countrymen had never dreamed of; and so they sailed away for the coast of Yucatan.

The first thing that happened was that they were overtaken by a furious tempest, and Cortes was delayed by looking after a disabled vessel, and so was the last to reach the island of Cozumel. Here he found that Alvarado, one of his captains, had landed, plundered a temple, and by his violence caused the natives to fly and hide themselves inland.

Cortes, much displeased, severely reprimanded his officer, and, by the aid of an interpreter, explained his peaceful intentions to two Indians who had been captured. Then he loaded them with presents, and sent them to persuade their countrymen to return, which they presently did, and the Spaniards had the satisfaction of bartering the trifles they had brought for the gold ornaments of the natives. Next Cortes sent two ships to the opposite coast of Yucatan, where they were to despatch some Indians inland, to seek for and ransom the Christian captives, of whom he had gained some tidings from a trader, and while they were gone he explored the island, and induced the natives to declare themselves Christians by the very summary method of rolling their venerated idols out of their temple, and setting up in their stead an image of the Virgin and Child. When the Indians saw that no terrible consequences followed, they listened to the teaching of the good priest, Father Olmedo, who accompanied the expedition, though it is probable that they did not, after all, understand much of his instruction. After eight days the two ships came back, but with no news of the captives, and Cortes sorrowfully decided that he could wait no longer. He accordingly took in provisions and water, and set sail again, but before they had gone far one of the ships sprang a leak, which obliged them to put back into the same port. It was lucky that they did, for soon after they landed a canoe was seen coming from the shore of Yucatan, which proved to contain one of the long-lost Spaniards, who was called Aguilas. He had been for eight years a slave among the natives in the interior, but his master, tempted by the ransom of glass-beads, hawk-bells, and such treasures, had consented to release him. When he reached the coast the ships were gone, but owing to the fortunate accident of their return, he found himself once more among his countrymen. Cortes at once saw the importance of having him as an interpreter, but in the end he proved to be of more use to the explorers than could have been at first imagined.

Again the fleet set out, and coasted along the Gulf of Mexico till they reached the mouth of the Rio de Tabasco. Here Cortes landed, but found that the Indians were hostile, and were drawn up in great force against him. However, after some hard fighting the Spaniards were victorious, and having taken possession of the town of Tabasco, Cortes sent messengers to the chiefs saying that if they did not at once submit themselves he would ravage the country with fire and sword. As they had no mind for any more fighting they came humbly, bringing presents, and among them thirty slaves, one of whom, a beautiful Mexican girl named Malinche, was afterwards of the utmost importance to the expedition. She had come into the possession of the cacique of Tabasco through some traders from the interior of the country, to whom she had been secretly sold by her mother, who coveted her inheritance. Cortes now reembarked his soldiers and sailed away to the island of San Juan de Uloa, under the lee of which they anchored, and soon saw the light pirogues of the Indians coming off to them from the mainland. They brought presents of fruit and flowers, and little ornaments of gold which they gladly exchanged for the usual trifles. Cortes was most anxious to converse with them, but found to his disappointment that Aguilar could not understand their dialect. In this dilemma he was informed that one of the slaves was a Mexican, and could of course speak the language. This was Malinche, or as the Spaniards always called her, 'Marina.' Cortes was so charmed with her beauty and cleverness that he made her his secretary, and kept her always with him; and she very soon learned enough Spanish to interpret for him without the help of Aguilar. But at first they were both necessary, and by their aid Cortes learned that his visitors were subjects of Montezuma, the great Aztec emperor, and were governed by Tenhtlile, one of his nobles. Cortes having ascertained that there was abundance of gold in the interior, dismissed them, loaded with presents, to acquaint their governor with his desire for an interview. The next morning he landed on the mainland with all his force. It was a level sandy plain, and the troops employed themselves in cutting down trees and bushes to provide a shelter from the weather; in this they were aided by the natives, who built them huts with stakes and earth, mats and cotton carpets, and flocked from all the country round to see the wonderful strangers. They brought with them fruits, vegetables, flowers in abundance, game, and many dishes cooked after the fashion of the country; and these they gave to, or bartered with, the Spaniards. The next day came Tenhtlile, the governor, with a numerous train, and was met by Cortes, and conducted to his tent with great ceremony. All the principal officers were assembled, and after a ceremonious banquet at which the governor was regaled with Spanish wines and confections, the interpreters were sent for and a conversation began. Tenhtlile first asked about the country of the strangers, and the object of their visit. Cortes replied that he was the subject of a powerful monarch beyond the seas, who had heard of the greatness of the Mexican emperor, and had sent him with a present in token of his goodwill, and with a message which he must deliver in person. He concluded by asking when he could be admitted into Montezuma's presence. To this the Aztec noble replied haughtily,

'How is it that you have been here only two days, and demand to see the emperor?'

Then he added that he was surprised to hear that there could be another monarch as powerful as Montezuma, but if it were so his master would be happy to communicate with him, and that he would forward the royal gift brought by the Spanish commander, and so soon as he had learned Montezuma's will would inform him of it. Tenhtlile then ordered his slaves to bring forward the present for the Spanish general. It consisted of ten loads of fine cotton, several mantles of gorgeous feather-work, and a wicker basket of golden ornaments. Cortes received it with due acknowledgments, and in his turn ordered the presents for Montezuma to be brought forward. These were an armchair richly carved and painted, a crimson cloth cap with a gold medal, and a quantity of collars, bracelets, and other ornaments of cut-glass, which in a country where glass was unknown were as valuable as real gems. The Aztec governor observed a soldier in the camp in a shining gilt helmet, and expressed a wish that Montezuma should see it, as it reminded him of one worn by the god Quetzalcoatl. Cortes declared his willingness that the helmet should be sent, and begged that the emperor would return it filled with the gold dust of the country, that he might compare its quality with that of his own. He also said that the Spaniards were troubled with a disease of the heart, for which gold was a sure remedy. In fact, he made his want of gold very clear to the governor. While these things were passing Cortes observed one of Tenhtlile's attendants busy with a pencil, and on looking at his work he found it was a sketch of the Spaniards, their costumes, weapons, and all objects of interest being correctly represented both in form and colour. This was the celebrated picture-writing, and the governor said that this man was drawing all these things for Montezuma, as he would get a much better idea of their appearance thus. Cortes thereupon ordered out the cavalry, and caused them to go through their military exercises upon the firm wet sands of the beach; and the appearance of the horses--which were absolutely unknown in Mexico--filled the natives with astonishment, which turned to alarm when the general ordered the cannon to be fired, and they saw for the first time the smoke and flame, and beheld the balls crashing among the trees of the neighbouring forest and reducing them to splinters. Nothing of this sort was lost upon the painters, who faithfully recorded every particular, not omitting the ships--the 'water-houses,' as they called them--which swung at anchor in the bay. Finally, the governor departed as ceremoniously as he had come, leaving orders with his people to supply the Spanish general with all he might require till further instructions should come from the emperor.

In the meantime the arrival of the strangers was causing no small stir in the Mexican capital. A general feeling seems to have prevailed that the Return of the White God, Quetzalcoatl, was at hand, and many wonderful signs and occurrences seemed to confirm the belief.

In 1510 the great lake of Tezcuco, without tempest, earthquake, or any visible cause, became violently agitated, overflowed its banks, and, pouring into the streets of Mexico, swept away many buildings by the fury of its waters. In 1511 one of the towers of the great temple took fire, equally without any apparent cause, and continued to burn in defiance of all attempts to extinguish it. In the following years three comets were seen, and not long before the coming of the Spaniards a strange light broke forth in the east, resembling a great pyramid or flood of fire thickly powdered with stars: at the same time low voices were heard in the air, and doleful wailings, as if to announce some strange, mysterious calamity. A lady of the Royal house died, was buried, and rose again, prophesying ruin to come. After the conquest she became a Christian.

Montezuma, terrified at these apparitions, took counsel of Nezahualpilli, King of Tezcuco, who was a great proficient in astrology; but far from obtaining any comfort from him, he was still further depressed by being told that all these things predicted the speedy downfall of his empire. When, therefore, the picture-writings showing the Spanish invaders reached Montezuma, they caused him great apprehension, and he summoned the kings of Tezcuco and Tlacopan to consult with them as to how the strangers should be received. There was much division of opinion, but finally Montezuma resolved to send a rich present which should impress them with a high idea of his wealth and grandeur, while at the same time he would forbid them to approach the capital. After eight days at the most, which however seemed a long time to the Spaniards, who were suffering from the intense heat of the climate, the embassy, accompanied by the governor Tenhtlile, reached the camp, and presented to Cortes the magnificent treasure sent by Montezuma. One of the two nobles had been sent on account of his great likeness to the picture of Cortes which the Aztec painter had executed for Montezuma. This resemblance was so striking that the Spanish soldiers always called this chief 'the Mexican Cortes.' After the usual ceremonious salutes, the slaves unrolled the delicately wrought mats and displayed the gifts they had brought. There were shields, helmets, and cuirasses embossed with plates and ornaments of pure gold, with collars and bracelets of the same precious metal, sandals, fans, plumes, and crests of variegated feathers wrought with gold and silver thread and sprinkled with pearls and precious stones. Also imitations of birds and animals in wrought or cast gold and silver of exquisite workmanship; and curtain coverlets and robes of cotton, fine as silk--of rich and varied hues--interwoven with feather-work that rivalled the most delicate painting. There were more than thirty loads of cotton cloth, and the Spanish helmet was returned filled to the brim with grains of gold. But the things which excited the most admiration were two circular plates of gold and silver as large as carriage-wheels. One, representing the sun, was richly carved with plants and animals, and was worth fifty-two thousand five hundred pounds. The Spaniards could not conceal their rapture at this exhibition of treasure which exceeded their utmost dreams; and when they had sufficiently admired it the ambassadors courteously delivered their message, which was to the effect that Montezuma had great pleasure in holding communication with so powerful a monarch as the King of Spain, but he could not grant a personal interview to the Spaniards; the way to his capital was too long and too dangerous. Therefore the strangers must return to their own land with the gifts he had sent them. Cortes, though much vexed, concealed his annoyance and expressed his sense of the emperor's munificence. It made him, he said, only the more desirous of a personal interview, so that he felt it was impossible that he should present himself again before his sovereign without having accomplished this great object of his journey. He once more requested them to bear this message to their master, with another trifling gift. This they seemed unwilling to do, and took their leave repeating that the general's wish could not be gratified. The soldiers were by this time suffering greatly from the heat, surrounded as they were by burning sands and evil-smelling marshes, and swarms of venomous insects which tormented them night and day. Thirty of their number died, and the discomfort of the rest was greatly increased by the indifference of the natives, who no longer brought them such abundant supplies, and demanded an immense price for what they did provide. After ten days the Mexican envoys returned, bearing another rich present of stuffs and gold ornaments, which, though not so valuable as the first, was yet worth three thousand ounces of gold. Beside this there were four precious stones, somewhat resembling emeralds, each of which they assured the Spaniards was worth more than a load of gold, and was destined as a special mark of respect for the Spanish monarch, since only the nobles of Mexico were allowed to wear them. Unfortunately, however, they were of no value at all in Europe. Montezuma's answer was the same as before. He positively forbade the strangers to approach nearer to his capital, and requested them to take the treasure he had bestowed upon them, and return without delay to their own country. Cortes received this unwelcome message courteously, but coldly, and turning to his officers exclaimed, 'This is a rich and powerful prince indeed, yet it shall go hard but we will one day pay him a visit in his capital.' Father Olmedo then tried to persuade the Aztec chiefs to give up their idol-worship, and endeavoured by the aid of Marina and Aguilar to explain to them the mysteries of his own faith, but it is probable that he was not very successful. The chiefs presently withdrew coldly, and that same night every hut was deserted by the natives, and the Spaniards were left without supplies in a desolate wilderness. Cortes thought this so suspicious that he prepared for an attack, but everything remained quiet.

The general now decided to remove his camp to a more healthy place a little farther along the coast, where the ships could anchor and be sheltered from the north wind. But the soldiers began to grumble and be discontented, and to say that it was time to return with their spoil, and not linger upon those barren shores until they had brought the whole Mexican nation about their ears. Fortunately at this juncture five Indians made their appearance in the camp, and were taken to the general's tent. They were quite different from the Mexicans in dress and appearance, and wore rings of gold and bright blue gems in their ears and nostrils, while a gold leaf, delicately wrought, was attached to the under lip. Marina could not understand their language, but luckily she found that two of them could speak in the Aztec tongue. They explained that they came from Cempoalla, the chief town of a tribe called the Totonacs, and that their country had been lately conquered by the Aztecs, whose oppressions they greatly resented. They also said that the fame of the Spaniards had reached their master, who had sent to request them to visit him in his capital. It is easy to imagine how eagerly Cortes listened to this communication, and how important it was to him. Hitherto, as he knew absolutely nothing of the state of affairs in the interior of the country, he had supposed the empire to be strong and united. Now he saw that the discontent of the provinces conquered by Montezuma might be turned to his own advantage, and that by their aid he might hope to succeed in his cherished scheme of subduing the emperor himself. He therefore dismissed the Totonacs with many presents, promising soon to visit their city. Then with his usual energy and diplomacy he turned upon the immediate difficulties which beset him--the discontent of the soldiers, the jealousy of some of his officers, and the fact that he had no warrant for his ambitious plans in the commission that he had received from Velasquez. By tact and cunning he managed to settle everything as he wished, and set to work to establish a colony in the name of the Spanish sovereign, and appointed his chief friend Puertocarrero to be one of its magistrates, and Montejo, who was a friend of Velasquez, to be the other. The new town was called Villa Rica de Vera Cruz, 'The rich town of the True Cross,' and, as you see, its governors and officials were appointed before a single house was built. To them Cortes then resigned the commission which he had received from Velasquez, and the council, which consisted chiefly of his own friends, immediately reappointed him to be captain-general and chief justice of the colony, with power to do practically just as he liked. Of course this caused a great commotion in the opposing party, but Cortes put the leaders into irons and sent them on board one of the ships, while he sent the soldiers on a foraging expedition into the surrounding country. By the time these returned with supplies they had altered their minds, and joined their companions in arms, pledging themselves to a common cause, while even the cavaliers on board the ship came to the same conclusion, and were reconciled to the new government, and were from that time staunch adherents to Cortes.

Peace being thus restored, the army set out to march northwards to the place where it had been decided to build the town. They crossed a river in rafts and broken canoes which they found upon its bank, and presently came to a very different scene from the burning sandy waste, which they had left. The wide plains were covered with green grass, and there were groves of palms, among which the Spaniards saw deer and various wild animals, and flocks of pheasants and turkeys. On their way they passed through a deserted village, in the temples of which they found records in the picture-writing, and also, to their horror, the remains of sacrificed victims. As they proceeded up the river they were met by twelve Indians, sent by the cacique of Cempoalla to show them the way to his town. The farther they went the more beautiful did the country become. The trees were loaded with gorgeous fruits and flowers, and birds and butterflies of every hue abounded. As they approached the Indian city they saw gardens and orchards on each side of the road, and were met by crowds of natives, who mingled fearlessly with the soldiers, bringing garlands of flowers, in which they specially delighted, to deck the general's helmet and to hang about the neck of his horse. The cacique, who was tall and very fat, received Cortes with much courtesy, and assigned to the army quarters in a neighbouring temple, where they were well supplied with provisions, and the general received a present of gold and fine cotton. But in spite of all this friendliness he neglected no precautions, stationing sentinels, and posting his artillery so as to command the entrance. The following morning Cortes paid the cacique a visit at his own residence, and, by the aid of Marina, a long conference was held in which the Spanish general gained much important information, and promised to aid the Totonacs against Montezuma, and prevent him from carrying off their young men and maidens to be sacrificed to his gods. The following day the army marched off again to the town of Chiahuitztla, which stood like a fortress on a crag overlooking the gulf. Though the inhabitants were alarmed at first, they soon became friendly, and the chiefs came to confer with Cortes and the cacique of Cempoallo, who had accompanied him, carried in a litter. Just then there was a stir among the people, and five men entered the market-place where they were standing. By their rich and peculiar dress they seemed to belong to a different race: their dark glossy hair was tied in a knot at the top of the head, and they carried bunches of flowers in their hands. Their attendants carried wands, or fans, to brush away the flies and insects from their lordly masters. These persons passed the Spaniards haughtily, scarcely deigning to return their salutations, and they were immediately joined by the Totonac chiefs, who seemed anxious to conciliate them by every sort of attention. The general, much astonished, inquired of Marina what this meant, and she replied that these were Aztec nobles empowered to receive tribute for Montezuma.