by Edmund Burke
At first an entire silence succeeded this harangue; the whole assembly confounded and struck dumb with grief, indignation, and surprize. Then followed a mixed cry, as each person was affected by some particular part of the general calamity. The lustre of their empire tarnished, their religion to be profaned, their freedom surrendered, their emperor degraded, what was worse, degraded by himself; could they believe their ears? Was it Montezuma who had spoken in such a manner? The design of Montezuma was until this moment a secret to Cortes; he was surprised, and something chagrined at an artifice, the invention of which he now penetrated very clearly. But his surprise did not confound or perplex him in the part he saw it was proper for him to act. Without any embarrassment, he seconded the harangue of Montezuma by a speech, which was well interpreted, wherein he strongly urged the propriety, and insinuated the necessity of an entire obedience to their prince, and an imitation of his conduct. Disordered as the assembly was, yet still held by a sacred reverence to their emperor, influenced by the hope of the sudden departure of the Spaniards, and reserving themselves for a better occasion, they followed Montezuma’s example, and paid homage to Cortes, in that dumb and sullen submission with which fierce spirits yield to necessity. He received it, and thanked them, as a man thanks his debtor for a ready payment.
Cortes saw that this empty homage secured him nothing; but he knew that the gold, which was to accompany it, would be of real service in cancelling the ill impressions made by his disobedience in Spain. In Mexico he might look upon himself as secure; he had the person of the emperor in his hands; he had his forces in the capital; and he had lately struck a terror into all, by seizing the general, who had committed hostilities against the Spaniards. He got the emperor to disavow his conduct, and condemn him as a traitor. By their joint authority, this unhappy man, guilty of nothing but obedience to his lawful master, and zeal for his country, was burned alive in the publick square of Mexico. But neither this horrid example, nor the imprisonment of their emperor, nor the late acknowledgment of the emperor Charles, was sufficient to make the Mexicans insensible to the disgrace they suffered, nor of the danger which hung over them. They began to consult how they might deliver themselves. Some proposed to cut off the communication with the continent, and hold the Spaniards besieged in their quarters; for the city of Mexico is an island in a great lake, and communicates with the continent by four great causeways, extremely curious for contrivance and solidity. Whilst they were ripening their schemes, a report came to Cortes, that some words had dropt from a Mexican concerning the practicability of destroying one of these causeways. From this word, (for he heard no more) this watchful and sagacious commander judged of the whole contrivance? Without however taking notice of it publicly, he immediately orders two brigantines to be built to secure his retreat, if a retreat should prove the wisest measure. In the mean time he kept a strict discipline in his army; and to preserve reverence from the Indians, he prohibited their approaching his quarters when his men were asleep, and severely punished those of his soldiers who slept out of the times and places appointed for that purpose. All this while no preparations for his departure.
CHAP. XI.
MONTEZUMA, sick with impatience of his confinement, and seeing that he daily lost his authority amongst the people by the pusillanimous appearance of his conduct, as soon as he perceived that any spirited action on his side would be seconded with equal spirit by his subjects, he roused his dormant magnanimity, and in spite of the condition he was in, he sent for Cortes, and addressed him in this manner:
“Cortes, the desires of my subjects, my own dignity, and the commands of my gods, require that you should depart my empire. You are sensible how much I have valued your friendship, and how effectually I have shewn that I valued it. But after so many professions of good-will upon your side, and so many proofs of it upon mine, after every pretence of business is over, wherefore do you delay your return? I have yielded homage to your master, I am ready to obey him, I have sent him presents, (or shall I call it a tribute) worthy of myself and of him; your whole army is loaded, even to an inconvenience, with their darling gold. Would they have more? Shall more be delivered them? But then, when they shall have spoken their largest wishes, and satisfied their most eager desires, I insist upon it that they depart immediately, or they may find, in spite of the condition I am in, of which condition, for your sake, and for my own, I shall speak but little, that Montezuma has yet courage enough to vindicate his own honour, and friends in Mexico who will not fail to revenge the wrongs he shall suffer.”
Cortes perceived something of an unusual resolution and sternness in the emperor’s countenance whilst he spoke. He therefore sent orders, before the interpreter began to explain his speech, that the Spaniards should stand to their arms, and wait his commands. His answer was resolute, but not such as to drive the emperor to despair. He lamented the jealousy which their common enemies had occasioned; that for his part he was secured from all fear by his own courage, and the bravery of his troops; but since he was so unfortunate as to find he could not longer enjoy the honour of a conversation he had such reason to esteem, consistently with the emperor’s repose, he would depart as soon as ships could be built, for on landing he had been obliged to burn his own. This answer soothed Montezuma; he resumed his good humour, he promised to load his army with gold at his departure, and gave immediate orders that every thing should be prepared for fitting out the ships in the speediest and amplest manner. But Cortes gave orders, which were full as well obeyed, to the person he appointed for the equipment, to delay it upon every possible pretence. He expected daily the return of the messengers he had sent into Spain, to sollicit his pardon and succours, with the continuance of the command.
Whilst he was entertained with these expectations, and with finding out pretences to defer his departure, an express arrived from Sandoval, his governor at La Vera Cruz, informing him of the arrival of eighteen ships, in which was an army of eight hundred foot, and two hundred horse, under the command of one Narvaez, who was sent by his old enemy Velasquez, the governor of Cuba, to supersede him in the command, to treat him as a rebel, and send him in chains to Cuba. The governor seized the messengers, who were sent by Narvaez, to require him to surrender, and sent them prisoners with this account to Cortes. There never was a time wherein the firmness and capacity of this commander were put so strongly to the proof. On one hand, here was an army in weapons and courage equal to his own, in numbers vastly superior, and above all, strengthened with the name of the royal authority. The Mexicans, ill-affected before, would rejoice in this opportunity to fall upon him. On the other hand, must he resign the conquests he had made with such infinite toils and hazards, into the hands of his mortal enemy, and in return to bear the name, and receive the punishment of a traytor? There was little room to hope for an accommodation. The thoughts of a surrender were intolerable. One way only remained, to conquer Narvaez. His own courage and conduct; his soldiers, habituated to victory, and endeared to him by common dangers and triumphs; his reputation, and the signal providence which always attended him, would combat upon his side. Above all, no time was to be lost in fruitless counsels. He sent an express to Sandoval, his governor in La Vera Cruz, to evacuate that place, and join him in his rout with what men he had. He assembled his forces, and found them to a man attached to his interests, and ready to hazard every thing in support of them. He left eighty men in Mexico, picked from his troops, recommending them to Montezuma, and him to them. With this small garrison he dared to entrust Mexico and all his vast hopes there; but the imprisoned emperor was himself a garrison, from the reverence his subjects bore him. Before he set out, he released the prisoners which Sandoval had sent him, using the severity of his officer to display his own clemency. He caressed them extremely, loaded them with presents for themselves, and the principal officers of Narvaez’s army, and did every thing to create himself a party there by his generosity. He sent at the same time very advantageous terms of accommodation to the general h
imself, but took care to follow and second his ambassadors with all the power he could raise. This, with Sandoval’s reinforcement, did not amount to three hundred men; but with these, and some confederate Indians, he marched with all imaginable diligence to Narvaez’s quarters.
Narvaez, elated with the superiory of his army, would hearken to no terms, though he was much pressed to it by his principal officers, who discovered plainly that this quarrel could only end in the ruin of their party, or that of the Spanish interest in Mexico. Mean time Cortes, little incumbered with baggage, and less with a dilatory genius, advanced by forced marches. He was but a small distance from the enemy’s quarters, when the rains came on, and as usual in that country, fell very heavily. Cortes knowing that the ill dispositions of the sky were circumstances favourable to a surprize, inviting to desperate enterprizes, and that they are always least prejudicial to those in motion, having perfect intelligence of the disposition of Narvaez’s army, and having disposed his troops in such a manner as not to fall upon one another, and to act in concert, he ordered them, when they should enter the town where the enemy was posted, to keep in close to the houses, that they might not suffer by the artillery, which was so placed as to play upon the middle of the street. Having made this disposition, he marched to attack the camp, on one of those gloomy and tempestuous nights. Though he directed every thing with the utmost secrecy, Narvaez had intelligence of his approach, but he laughed at it; and not understanding the nature of a prudent rashness, could not believe that Cortes would make such an attempt in such a season, went to sleep, without taking sufficient care that it should not be disturbed. Security in the general is easily followed by that of every one else. Cortes assaulted the town in three bodies, and whilst every one in the adverse party ran in confusion to his arms, and opposed without command or uniformity, as each man was attacked, the whole army was routed. The quarters of Narvaez were attacked by Cortes’s division, and the men routed there as elsewhere. Narvaez himself, shamefully taken in bed, fell into his hands.
“Value yourself, said he, my lord Cortes, on your fortune in making me your prisoner!”
But Cortes, with a smile of indignation, answered,
“That he thought this by far the least action he had performed, since he came into the new world.”
When the morning came on, the dispersed army of Narvaez began to form into bodies, and to discover the inconsiderable force which the night before had defeated them. Their first motion, distracted with shame and anger, was to fall upon the conquerors, and recover the honour they had lost. But when they found that their general was a prisoner, their artillery seized, and the advantageous post they had occupied in the enemy’s possession, and numbers amongst themselves well-affected to Cortes, they listened at last to his proposals, recommended as they were by the polite and insinuating behaviour of which he was master, and that open and unbounded generosity he shewed to every one. They all enlisted under his banner, and agreed to share his fortune. Thus did this accident, which seemed to threaten inevitable destruction to the affairs of Cortes, prove the most effectual method of restoring them to an excellent condition, wholly by means of the wisdom of his measures, and of that vigour and activity with which he pursued them. His army now consisted of above a thousand men after replacing his garrison at La Vera Cruz, in which fortress he left Narvaez a prisoner.
This victory, and the reinforcement it procured, came at a most critical time; for hardly had he begun to adjust matters for his return to Mexico, when an express arrived that his affairs there were in a most dangerous condition. Alvarado, whom he had left to command at his departure, though a brave and able man, had too great a contempt for the Indians, and too little discernment for the nice circumstances he was in, to manage with that just mixture of firmness and yielding, by which Cortes had hitherto so ballanced the hopes and fears of the Mexicans, that he never gave them an entire opportunity of knowing their own strength. This man, either discovering, or pretending at least to discover, that some of the chief men in the city, who were met in the great temple, were assembled to consult how to expel the Spaniards, suddenly surrounded the place, and murdered all the persons of rank who were met in the temple. This cruel and precipitate action at once raifed the whole people. Enraged at what they had already suffered, and what they saw plainly they were yet to expect from the tyranny of these intruders, their own ignominous patience, the fear of the Spanish arms, their inbred respect for Montezuma, were all lost in their fury. Should they stay, until on various pretences they were all butchered? Montezuma, either forgetful of his office and dignity, or unable to exert it, could protect them no longer. Gods and men allowed them to defend themselves, and arms were in their hands. The flame, so furious in the capital, spread itself with equal swiftness and rage over all the country, and all were vowed and hearty for the destruction of the Spaniards. In this extremity Alvarado shewed as much bravery as he had done imprudence in bringing it on. He redoubled his watch on the emperor; he obliged him to exert the remains of his authority in his favour, and fortifying his quarters in the best manner the time would admit, he stood out the storm, and repulsed the Mexicans in several attacks; but their fury, far from relenting at the frequent and bloody repulses they met, redoubled by their losses. They exercised the besieged day and night, with the most vigorous assaults at the beginning to cut off their retreat, and burned the brigantines which Cortes had built.
Cortes, who was obliged to make so rapid a march from Mexico, to defend himself against Narvaez, was compelled by an equal necessity to march from Zempoallo to Mexico, to relieve his forces, and preserve his most essential interests there. The Mexicans, like all people who have not reduced the art of war to some rule, suffered their eagerness in pursuing one advantage, to let other material ones lie neglected For whilst they pushed on the siege of the Spanish quarters with great vigour and diligence, they took no effectual care of the avenues to the city, or to cut off all succours from the besieged. Cortes entered the city without resistance. He soon routed those who invested the post of the Spaniards, and brought them a relief, of which they stood in the greatest need. This arrival of so formidable a body of troops, held the Mexicans some time in suspence; but in spite of the fatal error of admitting them into their city, which had now inexcusably been a second time committed, and in spite of the success every where attending the Spanish arms, they came to a resolution of continuing hostilities. But things wore another face since the arrival of Cortes. No longer satisfied with defending his quarters, he sallied out and defeated them several times with great slaughter. However, as he found that he suffered more by the least losses than the Mexicans by the greatest, he kept close for some time, suffering the enemy to approach, in hopes of making one last effort, to appease them by the authority of Montezuma. This unhappy prince, reduced to the sad necessity of becoming the instrument of his own disgrace, and of the slavery of his people, appeared on the battlements, and addressed his subjects with every argument he could use to prevail with them to disperse. But this expedient was not attended with the usual success. The Mexicans, by an habit of living without rule, had many of them lost much of that respect, which, even to adoration, every one of them used to pay their prince; they answered him with reproaches, and a stone from an uncertain hand struck Montezuma with great violence in the temple. The Spaniards carried him to his apartment. Here he refused to suffer any dressings to be applied to his wound, but wrapping his head in his garment, gave himself up a prey to shame and grief, and in a few days died, less of his wound, which was but inconsiderable, than of sorrow and indignation, on feeling that he had so far lost the esteem and love of his subjects. There are other accounts of the death of Montezuma, but this appears the most probable
Thus died this great prince, more remarkable for the great virtues by which he ascended the throne, and those qualities by which he held it in so much lustre for many years, than for his steadiness and wisdom in defending it when attacked by a formidable enemy. It has happened thus t
o many great men. When Lucullus and Pompey attacked Tigranes, king of Armenia, we do not see any thing in him of the conqueror of so many kings. Even his conqueror Pompey was not himself, after having enjoyed in glory for a long time a power acquired by the greatest exploits. Se esse magnum oblitus est. It is natural, whilst we are raising ourselves, and contending against difficulties, to have our minds, as it were, strung, and our faculties intent and constantly awake. The necessity of our affairs obliges us to a continual exercise of whatever talents we possess; and we have hope to animate and urge us onward. But when we are come to the summit of our desires, the mind suffers itself to relax. It is grievous to contend a-new for things, of which we have long looked upon ourselves as secure. When we have no longer any thing to hope, we have then every thing to fear. Thus enervated by this prosperity, and discomposed with this fear, we become stiff and irresolute to action; we are willing to use any temporizing measures, rather than hazard on any adventure so much power and reputation. If Montezuma had made an early use of his strength, he had strength enough, after many losses, to have kept Cortes far enough from his capital; but having once entered upon shifting and dilatory courses, this brave and active enemy gave his affairs a mortal blow, by seizing upon his capital, and by this means some time after by seizing upon his person too. The rest was all a consequence which no prudence could prevent, of a plan of conduct imprudent and ill laid originally.
