The war chiefs nodded at that.
The Tlacopan, who invariably seemed more bloodthirsty than the rest, liked that idea. “And loot them and demand tribute!”
Don shook his head negatively. “No. Merely defeat them in combat and then insist they join the Aztec Republic and send their senators and representatives of their clans to Tenochtitlan.”
Xochitl, who had remained ominously silent through all this, demanded, “And destroy their gods and make them accept ours!” His eyes were mad again. Don knew he was going to have continuing trouble with this one.
“No,” he said. “Each tribe will be free to worship whatever gods they wish, though there shall be no human sacrifice throughout the republic.”
He had said enough at this stage, he felt.
He said, “And now I leave you to your debate. But remember this. It will be as I say: All the tribes will be united, or all will fall.”
A long sigh went through them. He had never made a prediction that hadn’t come about.
Don Fielding turned and left the conference hall.
He spent the balance of the day working on the preliminaries involved in getting his Spaniards under way. Orders were given to build an enclosure in Chapultepec embracing a good deal of that mainland area. It was for the horses, both for their graze and a location for the riding school.
He consulted with his four miners. All were from Asturias in Spain, where they had worked both in the coal and iron mines. One even had some smelter experience. Don Fielding knew very little indeed about iron and couldn’t have recognized any type of iron ore for that matter. He would have given his weight in gold for the Hoover translation of Agricola’s history of metallurgy, but the notion made him smile. At the moment, Agricola was a young schoolmaster in Germany who would not write that book for another thirty years. Don explained their needs as well as he could.
One of the men, Diego Garcia, looked thoughtful. He said, “There is iron ore just south of Cholula. I saw the signs as we marched past. How much, I do not know, since I was not particularly interested at the time. But there is ore there.”
“I know nothing about extracting iron from the ore nor turning it into steel,” Don said. “Can it be done with charcoal?”
“Yes,” one of the others said. “But that won’t be necessary. I went with Olid to Toluca, when we were in possession of this city, on an expedition to collect gold and silver. I saw a vein of coal about halfway there, up in the mountains.”
“What would you suggest? How many porters would you need to bring the required coal and ore here so that you could begin smelting it?”
Diego Garcia shook his head. “The better way would be to build your smelter where the ore is. Transport the coal down there, and when you’ve got your raw iron, bring it back to the city.”
“All right. You four will be in charge of the operation. You will be given all the manpower you need to produce all the iron you can possibly turn out. Now, come with me.
He took them to the room in which the recovered gold and silver were deposited. There were also some scales which the Spanish had used to split the loot, back when Hernando Cortes was still in control of the city.
Don said, “Weigh out three portions of the gold into piles of fifty pesos each.”
They regarded him quizzically for a moment, but then proceeded to do so. Fifty pesos turned out to be a respectable amount of gold. Don took up each pile, took it to a far side of the room, and laid it against a wall.
“This is yours,” he said. “To be given to you when the war is over. If you are completely successful in your project, there will be a bonus. We all know that if I allow you to leave the city, you will have your opportunity to escape and rejoin the Captain-General. However, if you do, you will never receive this fortune. Not even if Cortes manages to recapture the city, because if he does, I’ll have all the treasure spread across the deepest part of the lake.” The eyes of the Spaniards glinted greed.
“We gave our parole,” Garcia complained. “But how do we know that you’ll keep your word? Or even if you wished to, how do we know the Indians would let us leave with our share?”
“The Indians do not care about gold and silver beyond using them for ornaments. As for me, I don’t care for it either. Gold and silver have brought more trouble to the world than possibly any other single thing.”
He ran into a hitch, though. When he checked with Cuitlahuac and Cuauhtemoc, it was to find that his expedition to the area of Cholula with its iron deposits was out of the question. Cholula and especially Huexotzingo, which was nearby, were both enemy country. The coal was no problem. In that direction the Aztecs controlled, but workers sent to Cholulan territory would surely be attacked.
Don’s face worked in irritation.
He said, “All right. We’ve just this moment created a standing army. I want you to muster two thousand warriors from Tenochtitlan, two thousand from Tetzcuco, and one thousand from Tlacopan. They will be under arms at all times and must not return to their fields so long as the war continues. Others will have to do their work, and they will be fed and equipped from the common supplies of their cities.”
He considered it for a moment. “They will be drilled in the method that I taught the other day. The phalanx, in groups of one thousand. But there will be one difference; our depth was too shallow. Instead of standing two-deep, they will stand three-deep. Perhaps we’ll find that four-deep will be better, or even five. The men in front will carry short spears and shields. The second row will carry a spear half again as long and a shield. The third row will carry a spear twice the length of the short spears and a javelin to throw, but no shields. As many of the first rank as possible will be armed with the swords we have captured from the Spanish; the rest will have to rely on your own obsidian swords until we have managed to produce good Mexican steel.”
He looked at Cuitlahuac. “I am not a warrior. You will have to work out the details yourself. Hurry as much as possible. When you feel the men ready for combat, we march on Cholula and Huexotzingo.”
“But this is only five thousand men,” the other protested. “What of the rest of the warriors?”
“They will act as auxiliaries to the phalanx, on both sides and to the rear. With longbows, with the captured crossbows, and the arquebuses, they will keep up a galling fire on the enemy, while the phalanx advances.”
“And the cannon?” Cuitlahuac said. “By that time we should have learned the use of the cannon.”
Don shook his head. “We can’t afford to expend the powder yet. It is bad enough to use the arquebuses. We’re saving the cannon for the return of Captain-General Hernando Cortes.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
He spent part of the next day in Tlaltelolco, the northern part of the twin city, in the section of town largely devoted to the pochteca traders and with its special temple to Yacatecuhtli, Guiding Lord, god of commerce. He was accompanied by Tlilpotonque, the Snake-Woman, and a group of Don’s aides, a force that was rapidly accumulating from subchiefs and scribes, messengers and porters. Cuauhtemoc was busy drilling drill sergeants who could take over the task of shaping up the five-thousand-man phalanx.
They began by explaining the new Aztec Republic to the gathered men of primitive commerce. That is, the Snake-Woman did. For one thing, Don wanted to listen to find whether or not the whole concept was clear to Tlilpotonque himself. After all, Don Fielding had been over it only once.
But the other had the idea, and although Don felt it necessary to embellish a bit, the Snake-Woman did a good job. Afterward, Don took over.
He said, “By tomorrow morning, I want every pochteca in Tenochtitlan on the roads. You will go as traders, as always, but you will also be ambassadors of the Aztec Republic. Everywhere you go, you will explain that there are to be no more raids on their cities and no more tribute, ever, if they join the new Mexico, the Aztec Republic. Each city that wishes to join must immediately elect its two senators and its representatives from each
of its clans and send them to Tenochtitlan for our first… our first congress. Make note of each tribe that refuses to join; let it be known that they have incurred the displeasure of the Aztec Republic, the greatest confederation in all the lands.” He thought of something, hesitated, sighed a sigh for agnosticism, then added, “And the returned Quetzalcoatl.” There was no surprise evinced at the last. They knew who he was, all right, all right. Under his breath, he muttered in English, “Religion is the opium of the people.” But he needed to give them the extra lift.
He said, “The largest expedition must go to the Tarascans to the north.”
The Snake-Woman said, “But except for the Tlaxcalans, these are our greatest enemies.”
Don nodded. “So I understand. However, they must become our friends, instead. We need them. They are the greatest producers of copper in Mexico and the best workers of that metal. We can use it for hammers and other tools that we must not waste our iron upon. As traders, the pochteca will be able to enter their area safely. It is doubtful that they will wish to join the republic as yet, but the seed will be sown. What do they value most that is here in Tenochtitlan and Tlaltelolco?”
“They value most what we do well. Ornaments of jade, the precious green stone, cacao, tobacco, and rubber, which comes from the south. Also they value our… Aztec… featherwork and various herbs and medicines which we bring up from Tabasco and the Mayan country beyond.”
“Very well. Gather up all of these things in the city and send them with the pochteca to Tzintzuntzan, their capital. In return, we wish all the copper they have on hand, in any form, and any other metal they have.”
Every eye in the building goggled at him.
Snake-Woman blurted, “But these are the very things we cherish most.”
“No more. Now we treasure freedom. Those goods are of no value whatsoever if the Spanish return and conquer us. We need the copper more than we need luxuries. We need guns instead of butter.”
“I do not understand your last words.”
“It is of no importance. Also tell the Tarascans that we wish still more copper and will trade them our most precious possessions for it. Urge them to intensify their mining of it.”
He thought for a moment. “In each area into which the trading expeditions go, take those items they desire most, though we strip the city. Trade always for metals, any kind of metals they have.” Unconsciously he was using more of their gestures, crossing his wrists to indicate “trade.” One day, far to the north, other tribes would call it “sign talk.” Damn it. He knew they had tin here in the Mexico of this time. History told him so. But he couldn’t remember from which area it came, nor, for that matter, what it even looked like. He needed tin for bronze. Pure copper was too soft.
He considered some more and said, “And in each area you come to, request that they widen and smooth the roads. They are to be made at least three times as wide. Soon the new wheeled wagons will be using them. Also, request that they double the number of shelters along the roads. Soon there will be a great increase of traffic. Soon large numbers of people will be using them, not just traders and ambassadors, as the new Aztec Republic gets under way.”
Complete with his staff, which seemed to be burgeoning by the hour, he returned to the tecpan and brought together all the prisoners who had been farmers before soldiers. There were a considerable number of them, more than any other category. The gentleman farmers he eliminated, delegating them to training the Aztecs in European weapons and drill or to the newly created riding school.
The remaining peasants and small landholders he divided into two, those who were actual farmers and those who were specialists with animals.
He instructed the first group to repair the blacksmith shop and toolmaking smithy to have several plows made, utilizing as little steel as possible. When these were done, they were to go to the mainland and instruct the Aztecs in field agriculture. They were to draw upon the horses to the extent necessary but also to try to work out a method of using manpower, if possible.
He took the remaining contingent to the zoo, which had once been the pride of Motechzoma and the other members of the Eagle clan. They went through it with care. The Aztecs had done a good job. Almost every animal and bird known to Mexico was represented, including the longtailed quetzal.
His Spanish companions were nonplussed, not getting it at all.
After the conducted tour, Don said to them, “All right. What can be domesticated?”
They all took him in blankly.
Don pointed. “That’s some kind of a goat, isn’t it? I hardly know a goat from a sheep.”
One of the farm-raised Europeans, a Rodrigo Reogel, said grudgingly, “It is a mountain goat. We saw them on our way up from Vera Cruz. They are very wild; we were able to shoot none of them.”
Don said, “Could they be domesticated and used for milk and meat?”
Reogel peered at him, as though Don was kidding. “Why?”
“Isn’t it obvious? These people have neither enough milk nor sufficient meat in their diet. I thought the goat was one of the most efficient animals ever domesticated.” Although they were soldiers all, a farmer-born never quite loses all of the instinct. They were intrigued.
One said hesitantly, “It might take a long time. The newly taken ones could never be trained, but if you started with the kids…”
Another said, just as hesitantly, “You would have to breed for larger udders if you wished milk. It would take time…”
“Then the sooner we start, the better,” Don said decisively. He turned to one of his aides. “Send orders out that the hunters are to be sent into the hills to capture as many of these animals as possible—unharmed. Both male and female, but particularly female. Use huge net traps, if you must.”
He turned back to his farmers. “Now, of all the other animals you have seen, which do you think best lend themselves to domestication?”
Reogel said definitely, “Those geese. They are wild, but clip their wings and in a few years you would have excellent eggs, excellent meat.”
Don made a gesture to a secretary. “See that the hunters capture alive as many of those birds as possible and bring them to Tenochtitlan.”
One of the other Spaniards said, “Those peccaries, or whatever they call them. They are very similar to pigs. I once tasted their meat. It is similar to pork.”
Don said to his Indians, “Where do they come from?”
One said, “To the far, far north.”
“Send an expedition to acquire as many as possible—alive.”
“What else?” he said to the Spanish, who were becoming increasingly fascinated by the whole prospect.
“There are also mountain sheep. What they taste like, I could not know. But they should yield a fairly good wool. What is all this for?”
Don said, “The wool we can also use. But the big project is building up the protein content of this diet. In the long run, we’ll wind up with a bigger people.”
They continued through the zoo, and as they went, Don talked less and listened more. These were pros who had gotten the fundamental idea and, with their backgrounds, instinctively liked it. The prisoner and warden atmosphere evaporated. They had the feel of the thing. Mountain goats, mountain sheep, various fowl, wild pig; it all obviously intrigued them. What, Don wondered vaguely, brings a man farm-raised to become a soldier? They even studied the bison, the American buffalo. But that set them back. It was the nearest thing to a horse, or a cow for that matter, that they had seen in Mexico, but none would admit to a desire to domesticate it. Not that it was particularly important. Don had no idea how far north you had to go before you could capture the lumbering plains dwellers. He did know they could be domesticated, even saddled and ridden.
He assigned one of the Spanish-speaking Indian boys to the farmers and returned to the tecpan. They had enough on their hands to last them indefinitely and were interested enough to carry it through on their own. He would assign them a subchief or scr
ibe to see that their needs were fulfilled and then let them develop it their own way. One good thing about this set, they wouldn’t think of themselves as traitors. If the Spanish won out, any work they had done would redound to the Spanish cause.
At the tecpan he rounded up the Spanish sailors and sent them with double the number of Aztecs to get the ships and begin the process of training the Indians to sail them.
He discussed glass with his sole glassblower and found the other was of the opinion that he could improvise equipment to turn out a rather low-quality product. Don gave him the go-ahead.
Several of the Spanish gentlemen had attended the university in Salamanca, Spain. He made them teachers in his rapidly expanding school and instructed them to introduce the metric system, among other things.
He queried around among the Indians, particularly the pochteca traders, who were by far the most traveled of the Aztecs, and described petroleum to them. And, yes, they were aware of the black stuff. About three days north of Vera Cruz was a place where it bubbled up into the lakes and rivers. It could be scooped out and would burn. Sometimes it was thicker and could be used as black paint.
“Tar,” Don said. Very well, he gave his staff orders to outfit an expedition carrying large pots to go and acquire a large quantity of both. Wasn’t there some other form in which petroleum turned up in nature? Asphalt? He didn’t know.
That brought something else to mind. How did you make kerosene from petroleum? Distillation, wasn’t it? He knew nothing about petroleum products and nothing about distillation. However, he ran into luck once more. Two of his farmers had worked in the vineyards in Spain and one knew how to distill wine to make “spirits.” Don put him to work building a still, acquiring the copper for the coils from the market in Tlaltelolco. The blacksmiths worked it into tubing.
The Other Time Page 26
