The Cortés Trilogy: Enigma Revenge Revelation

by John Paul Davis

  Aztec/Mesoamerican Locations

  Of all the ground covered in this trilogy – all the ground I’ve ever covered as an author – little rivals the scope of the Mesoamerican civilisations when it comes to stoking the imagination. Just like the Templars, a mere mention of the name can be enough to open up a can of worms that has the ability to enthral even the most tacit observer. Over the years they have been linked with anything and everything from the Ark of the Covenant, to the American Civil War, to Oak Island, to Area 51, and even to the descendants of Atlantis! Without question, researching them has been of terrific interest, in no small part because of the immense scale there is for discovering new facets of history. Ever since I first read up on Hernán Cortés and La Noche Triste there was something about them that made the possibility of including them in a story irresistible. The frequent lack of clear focal points and ambiguities in their history and mythology makes this all the more tantalising. Much of this can be put down to the actions of Cortés and the conquistadors themselves, who destroyed vast amounts of Maya and Aztec literature in the 1500s.

  As Juliet quite rightly said, ‘Just imagine what we might have known about the ancient world had more of them survived’.

  Every group of peoples mentioned in this book did exist. The Olmecs are believed to have been the first of the major civilisations, while the Maya, the Toltecs, the Aztecs and the mysterious unnamed tribe who founded Teotihuacán are all known to have existed. The city of Tenochtitlán also existed and references to it in this tale are real. The idea that it was inspired by an older, greater, city is plausible but not historical.

  That a city of Tollan did exist has long been known. It was founded by the Toltecs near the city of Tula, their capital. That this was the city of myth, however, is false. There is little in common between the Tollan in this book and the Toltec city.

  Whether the mythical Tollan ever existed or not is another contentious issue that could itself be worthy of its own book. Like Atlantis or El Dorado it is one of those places that most people want to believe in but no one has ever found the definitive proof to substantiate. Like most of the creation myths, precise descriptions of the city have a tendency to vary. According to some, it was here the seven caves were found, named in this book, Chicomoztoc. The existence of Chicomoztoc, either independent of Tollan or as part of it, was an important belief held by many Mesoamerican tribes. Just like the Garden of Eden, it was their point of creation. Over the years many candidates have been put forward for the location of the fabled mountain.

  None are universally accepted.

  The exact truth as regards the Mesoamerican creation myth is, sadly, almost certainly lost to history. Because of the destruction of Aztec literature, there are still gaps in our knowledge of their past. That Chicomoztoc was a central feature is one loosely known fact; another is the legendary island of their origin. The island, known as Aztlán, was believed to have been located north of the Valley of Mexico – the wrong direction from Aztlán in this book. The history of the Aztecah, mentioned in this book as their sole inhabitants, is an equally grey area and much of what is known of them belongs as much to mythology as history. The very word, written in Nahuatl, actually means, ‘people from Aztlán’. In the 1400s, the Aztecs actually sent out a party of explorers in order to find Aztlán.

  Inevitably they were never seen again.

  That something of significance still awaits discovery in the Olmec Heartland cannot be dismissed. The important sites of La Venta and San Lorenzo have not always been known to the wider world. The possibility that primitive settlements once existed there is extremely likely, albeit not on the scale I mentioned in this novel. If the original Aztlán does exist, chances are it would be a fairly simple place with any pyramids in keeping with the clay-built arrangements that typified the Olmec era. The idea that civilisation began when a flint knife was thrown to earth is based on a real myth.

  The idea that it was inspired by an historical meteor is speculation.

  Hernán Cortés

  The man at the heart of this trilogy, Hernán Cortés, was, of course, a real person and a great explorer. Much of what is included in this book is based on fact. Though the castle mentioned as the ancestral home of his descendants is make-believe, Cortés was born in Medellín in 1485 and spent much of his youth in Extremadura. His father was an infantry captain of distinguished ancestry but little tangible wealth, while his mother was of Pizarro descent; because of her, Cortés was second cousin once removed of the famous Francisco Pizarro and the other Pizarro cousins, who played such a decisive part in the ruin of the Inca Empire. Through his father, Cortés was also a relation of Nicolás de Ovando, third governor of Hispaniola, a connection that would in part go on to shape much of his later career.

  Exactly how Cortés performed as a youngster is, sadly like many of history’s greats, largely unrecorded. Later reports of him are far from impressive: most accounts have a tendency to downplay his potential as a sickly, pale boy of questionable endurance. At the age of fourteen, there is some evidence to suggest Cortés was sent to study Latin at the University of Salamanca under another relation; however, if he did so, he certainly didn’t last more than two years. By age sixteen, accounts by his first biographer paint Cortés as a restless rebel and troublemaker, clearly unsuited for a long career in the law. By the turn of the century, Cortés had found himself a new hero in the form of Christopher Columbus and, after a period of directionless wanderings round the south of Spain, ventured to Hispaniola himself for the first time in 1504. After two years becoming established there under the watchful eye of Ovando, Cortés became personally involved in putting down violent uprisings in Hispaniola and later the conquest of Cuba, earning him a vast estate and several native slaves.

  From 1511 onward, a series of events took place that would go on to shape much of his later life. After assisting in the conquest of Cuba, Cortés became known to Ovando’s aide, Diego Velázquez, leading to him being made clerk to the treasurer on Velázquez’s appointment as governor before being later promoted to secretary. As Cortés’s power and influence continued to grow, relations between the pair became tense, not least after Cortés married Velázquez’s sister-in-law. Later in 1518, Cortés also led a mutiny against Velázquez after he was formally removed as leader of an expedition to mainland Mexico in a bid to colonise further land for the Spanish. After flouting Velázquez’s orders, Cortés put together a fleet of eleven ships and five hundred men and proceeded anyway, landing on the Maya-dominated Yucatán Peninsula and heading inland. After gaining further land both in the Yucatán, and later Tabasco, Cortés allied himself with many of the Aztecs’ indigenous enemies and later carried out the highlight of his career by meeting with, and subsequently defeating, the Aztec lord Montezuma and bringing an end to the Aztec Empire at Tenochtitlán and completing the conquest of Mexico for Spain.

  Of Cortés’s career post the conquest, things are more of a mixed bag. Despite Velázquez’s attempts to have him arrested, Cortés achieved some praise from the Spanish Crown for his achievements, capped off by being granted his own coat of arms in 1525 and later being made Marqués del Valle de Oaxaca in honour of his efforts in the colonisation of New Spain. Nevertheless, his failure to be awarded the coveted title of viceroy was a point of dissension. After returning briefly to Spain in 1528 to receive his new titles and defend himself against the accusations of his enemies, he returned to Mexico in 1530 and spent a further eleven years there, albeit without the same trappings of power he had earlier enjoyed. Rather than pursuing further conquest, the next chapter of his life saw exploration of the Pacific result in mixed success. After exploring the west coast and playing a large role in the discovery of the Baja California Peninsula, he returned to Spain in 1541, participating in his final expedition against Algiers before dying in 1547.

  Like Columbus, he died a moderately wealthy man who wholeheartedly believed he never received the credit he deserved.

  Unlike Columbus, Corté
s fathered many children, both in and out of wedlock. His daughter, Catalina, did briefly exist; however, she is alleged to have died in infancy. The granddaughter in this story did not exist – nor did the Santa Estella and its connection with Sir Walter Raleigh. The idea that Catalina went in search of the treasure is therefore untrue.

  The Noche Triste, like the conquest of Tenochtitlán, did indeed occur – for more on this I recommend you try The Conquest of New Spain by Bernal Díaz, which provides a first-hand account of the events. The five emeralds regularly mentioned did exist; Cortés gave them to his wife as a gift, much to the distaste of the Queen of Spain. The coat of arms is historical; the suggestion that it is, in fact, a subtle treasure map is not. In the 16th century, a Spanish galleon did go down between St Mary’s and St Agnes. It was discovered in 1978; however, folklore of the wreck dates back at least one hundred years before that time.

  The identity of the ship has never been uncovered.

  The Noche Triste Treasure is recorded among the texts of the conquistadors as having been real. When the conquistadors attempted to flee Mexico, they are recorded as having carried large swathes of treasure. Reports from the time suggest much of it was recovered, some tossed into the, now drained, Lake Texcoco. For almost five hundred years rumour has abounded that it remains hidden in various parts of the world. But that’s rumour. And rumour and history are two very different things. As far as history is concerned, only one thing is known for certain.

  The Noche Triste Treasure has never been found . . .

  Further Reading

  As this book is a work of fiction, including a complete bibliography would be superfluous. For those of you who are interested in the subject matter and wish to learn more on the conquest of New Spain, I recommend the following titles as informative and interesting reads:

  Díaz, Bernal, The Conquest of New Spain, Aylesbury: Penguin Classics, 1963

  Pemberton, John, Conquistadors – Searching for El Dorado: The Terrifying Spanish Conquest of the Aztec and Inca Empires, London: Little Brown Group, 2011

  Phillips, Charles, The Illustrated Encyclopedia of the Aztec & Maya, London: Anness Publishing Ltd, 2014

  On the lives of Columbus and Cortés there are too many titles to name, but two that I would regard as extremely different are:

  Davies, Hunter, In Search of Columbus, London: Sinclair-Stevenson Ltd, 1991

  Roberts, Andrew, Great Commanders of the Medieval World 454–1582, London: Quercus, 2011

  Though far more academic biographies of both men exist and can be easily found online, Davies is unique for having dedicated as much of his work to visiting the key sights and commentating on them at the time of writing, which was itself a fascinating approach. Roberts is also a worthwhile read, as its focus is not only limited to Cortés and concentrates primarily on his achievements.

  For keen travellers, there are many works out there. For those interested in Extremadura, the Crossbill Guides book on Extremadura was a particularly interesting read, as it highlighted a series of walks throughout, which are not normally known to the average tourist. For those of you interested in the Isles of Scilly, there are many good guidebooks on the islands, but rare among them is Jessie Mothersole’s The Isles of Scilly: Their Story their Folk & their Flowers, published by the Library of Alexandria in 1910, which was one of those chance discoveries that I am now most indebted to, as it provides a rich and warm insight into the Isles as they had appeared around the time of TF’s visit.

  Acknowledgements

  Researching this story has been an enormous pleasure, and I am grateful for the kindness and assistance of many people that I have met along the way both in England and abroad. In particular, thanks go to all who offered their expertise and advice on my visits to the various places mentioned throughout, especially the guides and employees of the historic sites. A special thank you, as always, goes to Karen Perkins and Pauline Nolet for their work as copy-editor and proofreader as well as my fellow authors and friends, Dave Leadbeater, Mike Wells, Steven Bannister, Andy Lucas, Cathy (CR) Hiatt, Christine (CK) Raggio and Karen again for helping to put The Hotbox project together in 2014 that included the first edition of The Cortés Enigma.

  Thank you for reading. As always, your interest and support means a great deal to me. As for every author, readers are the lifeblood of our existence. I hope you enjoyed the trilogy. If so, please look out for further releases from me as well as my other titles:

  The Templar Agenda, 2011

  The Larmenius Inheritance, 2013

  The Plantagenet Vendetta, 2014

  The Cromwell Deception, 2014

  The Bordeaux Connection 2015

  Non-fiction

  Robin Hood: The Unknown Templar, Peter Owen 2009

  Pity for the Guy – a biography of Guy Fawkes, Peter Owen 2010

  The Gothic King – a biography of Henry III, Peter Owen 2013

  For more on me, please check out my websites, www.johnpauldavisauthor.com and www.theunknowntemplar.com. There, you can also find a link to my blog.

  All my books above are available on Amazon:

  UK Amazon Page

  US Amazon Page

  If you have any questions or you would like to get in touch, you can email me at jpd@theunknowntemplar.com. You can also follow me on Twitter @unknown_templar