Roger the Bold: A Tale of the Conquest of Mexico

Roger saw Tamba shrink at the idea. His face went pale, even beneath the dusk, while he looked at his master with frightened eyes.

"You could say that you were not Spanish, my lord. You would tell them that you belong to England."

"What did you know about England?" asked Roger, calmly. "Nothing. Then, how will these natives? But I am imagining a difficulty. Let us push on, and trust to good fortune."

That night found the two on the edge of the broad plain which they had traversed, and approaching the range of mountains, which they could now see were broken into many chains, and into separate pinnacles. They looked for a suitable bivouac, and selecting a huge overhanging rock, which promised to keep the heavy dew away, they lit their fire and ate their meal. Three hours later, while they slept, for they were both worn out by a long day's march, a hundred dark figures surrounded them, and skilful fingers drew their weapons away. Then they were pounced upon, beaten heavily, and dragged away into the darkness. A bandage was tied firmly round their eyes, so that they could see nothing, and their limbs secured with soft cords. Then Roger felt himself lifted on to the shoulders of four tall men – at least, he thought that they were tall – and was carried off at a pace which must have taxed the strength of his bearers. Indeed, he heard their heavy breathing, and remarks which he thought referred to his length and weight.

"Prisoners," he thought, with a shudder. "These fellows will do as I said, and take me for a Spaniard. I can expect little mercy from them, for if we are in the neighbourhood of Mexico many of the inhabitants will have been killed. But there is no use in bothering. As well prepare for the worst, and rest, so as to be fresh to bear what comes on the morrow."

With this philosophic determination, he lay flat on the palanquin on which he had been thrown, and presently, in spite of his dread of the future, fell fast asleep; for the bandage about his eyes seemed to make him drowsy. And, then, he was as yet not fully recovered from his wound, and from the weakness consequent therefrom, and the march had been long and fatiguing. How long he slept he never knew, but he was awakened by a blast of cold air, which fanned his face, and by a movement of his bearers. They lowered him to the ground, not roughly, or as if they desired to harm him, but with every care, as if he were some person of importance. Then one of them removed the bandage, while the others stood him upon his feet. It was day; the dawn had broken but a few minutes before, and the crest of the sun was just risen over a mountain range. A cry escaped from Roger – a cry of amazement; for down below him, at the end of the long straggling track which led down from the pass over which the party had been travelling, was a huge lake, nestling amongst broken mountain chains which did not run to its shores, but which stood back from them, giving the lake ample space. And attached to this lake was another, to the right and a little nearer, while at different points along the shores of both were towns, huge clusters of houses, with towers as high as St. Paul's in London, which he knew so well, towers which glistened and sparkled in the sun. But that was not all. The rugged mountain track descended to the plain in which lay the lakes, and crossed it direct to a viaduct, a straight line some two leagues in length, which pushed its granite walls out into the larger lake, to a huge city, standing white in the sun, and showing a hundred and more towers. Other viaducts cut off from it here and there, while he could see dots moving on the water. What a scene! Who could paint it? For the walls of the houses reflected the rays, while a dazzling light played upon the sides of the numerous towers, and upon their summits. But all was not white, for on nearly every flat roof the red and blue and dazzling pink of gorgeous flowers was given back, while gardens lay on either side of this lake city, seeming, as was actually the fact, to float on the water. In a flash it came to Roger's mind that this city, those viaducts, and those tiny boats were true to the plan which was engraved on the golden disc, now in the possession of Alvarez. The scene was stupendous. The wonder of it took his breath away, while he was amazed at the thought that he was so soon within sight of the goal for which the brigantine had sailed.

"Mexico! Mexico!" he almost shouted. "The city for which we were bound."

There was no answer. For a few minutes the natives allowed him to feast his eyes upon the sight. Then they put the bandage about his head again, and lifted him on to the litter. He was raised on to their shoulders, and they set off at a run down the slope. Presently they were crossing the viaduct, and when at length Roger was permitted to look again, he found that his bonds were being removed, and that he and Tamba sat side by side in an enormous wooden cage, placed in the centre of a square of huge dimensions, and close alongside another cage of similar arrangement, in which were some two hundred other prisoners.

What would have been his feelings had he known that he was in the heart of the city of Mexico, the fairest city of those times, the fairest city that has ever been, and that this cage in which he found himself was in the courtyard of the chief temple, a prison kept for the purpose of holding captives destined for the sacrifice. Yes; that was the custom of the Mexicans. They practised human sacrifice, as many a Spaniard was to know to his cost, and they kept ready at hand a number of wretched prisoners who were doomed to end their lives on the summit of the greatest temple.

When Roger learned the news the terror of it almost unmanned him, and he sank helpless upon his knees.

CHAPTER VIII

A City by the Water

For many weeks Roger de Luce had longed to see the city of Mexico, though it was a much shorter time since he had learned that that was the name of the place depicted upon the golden disc which had come into Peter Tamworth's hands. He had looked forward to beholding this quaint place, erected in the middle of a lake, surrounded, in fact, by water, and approached by one or more causeways. He had never dreamed that his ambition would so soon be gratified, nor was he so vastly pleased now that he had come to this spot, reputed to hold a store of treasure. Indeed, there are few who could look upon the prospects which now faced him with a cheerful face, for it was not long before he learned that the solid wooden bars of his cage were wont to hold captives – captives kept for the day of sacrifice. The thought was horrible, but the fact was true, for daily men were extracted from the other cage, and taken to the summit of the temple.

Let us leave our friend Roger in this predicament for a little while, discussing the position with his faithful Tamba, while we ascertain the movements of that gallant and astute leader known as Fernando Cortes, and the reasons and objects which had brought him to this Terra Firma.

The reader will recollect that mention has been made of the voyages of discovery made by the Portuguese, mostly to Africa, voyages which taught the Regent of the country that there were islands such as Madeira and the Canaries, and which, if they did nothing else, brought a few slaves back to the shores of Portugal. Indeed, the first success of these expeditions led to a ghastly human traffic which accounted in later years for an importation of some thousand slaves per annum. But the Portuguese were not the first to display some curiosity in outside conditions, to investigate other parts, for the voyages accomplished by them, and those of Columbus, were merely links in a long chain of adventurous enterprises by sea which commenced centuries before, and have not ceased even at this date. Indeed, the East, the Far East, had been known of for very many years, while the Phœnicians, the Greeks, and the Carthaginians had sent their vessels out till the coasts of Southern Europe and Asia were known, as well as the northern coast of Africa. After these heroes came the Roman Empire, and we have little, if any, more information of discoveries till the beginning of the twelfth century, when there was renewed activity amongst the maritime peoples. In fact, the twelfth, thirteenth, fourteenth, and fifteenth centuries constitute what is known as the "age of discovery," and of these the fifteenth century, with the earlier portion of the following one, was certainly the most productive of discoveries. And it is a curious coincidence that while men's minds were turned to foreign parts, to the effort to obtain knowledge of foreign peoples and affairs, there should have been a revival in other matters. The arts and sciences made headway during these centuries, while religious feeling revived, and enormous exertions were made to Christianize the heathen. In fact, Christianity was widely spread by the end of the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, while a bitter war was being waged against the Saracens, who dominated Africa and the Mediterranean, keeping Genoa and Venice in check, while their armies conquered Spain, and even invaded France. But the energies of these intrepid warriors were not confined to war alone, for they sought for commerce, and there is little doubt but that they were acquainted with the Red Sea, with the east coast of Africa as far as Madagascar, and with much of the west coast of the same continent. But their knowledge was obtained for the most part not by voyages, but by overland routes, so that the interior, perhaps, rather than the coast-line was known.

In course of time these Saracens were beaten back by the tide of Christian chivalry, and then we find the Genoese prospecting voyages, in which they explored the Atlantic border of Africa, and wondered whether a passage existed to the due west by means of which they could reach India, the Far East.

And now we come to that period, extending over some sixty years, during which the Portuguese sent expeditions south along the west coast of Africa. These voyages, at first productive of only a few slaves, and later of a huge traffic in these unhappy victims of their raids, finally ended in the wonderful achievement of Bartolomeo Diaz, who rounded the Cape of Good Hope in 1485. Ten years later the intrepid Vasco de Gama doubled this cape, and sailed along the eastern coast of Africa to Durban, and from there to India itself, thus proving the existence of the huge continent of Africa, and the possibility of a passage to the Far East by way of the Cape of Good Hope.

However, this was not that due westerly route which philosophers and wise men spoke of, which tradition almost laid down as a fact, and the adventurous nations still pondered, still wondered whether it existed. Even in England the subject was as much in the minds of our sailors as in those of Portugal and Spain, and many a ship put out from Bristol intent on its discovery. But the attempt always ended in failure, for, after steering to the west for two weeks, perhaps, the mariners would fancy that they were on the wrong track, and would make some other course, finally returning disappointed to Bristol.

But the Spaniards succeeded in discovering land to the west, if none others had done so, for in 1494 Vicente Pinzon, with Americo Vespucci, put out for the west, and came upon Brazil, the River Amazon, and the coast of South America. It was thought that the East Indies had been found, that the western passage had been hit upon, for no one dreamed that the huge continent of America intervened. And it was not till later, till after Columbus's later voyages, and the discovery of the Pacific Ocean, and the rounding of Cape Horn by Magalhaes, that the full significance of the new land was understood. Then, owing to an error, by which Americo Vespucci was thought to be the commander of the expedition which fell in with Brazil, the whole continent was given the title which it now bears.

The description of these voyages brings us at length to that first one of Columbus, a doughty sailor who had often taken part in the Portuguese trips along the west coast of Africa. He was, in fact, in the service of Portugal, and this theory of a western passage must often have been pondered on during the voyages he made in that service. At length it grew into a firm belief, and he went to Henry of Portugal with the desire that he might be offered the command of an expedition. But this was not the wish of the Portuguese, for were they to discover this western passage they could not keep it to themselves, while the coast of Africa, which they had found, and had commenced to colonize, was theirs by right, and could not so easily be usurped. Columbus therefore received no encouragement, and in despair sent his appeal to the court of Spain, and to Henry the Seventh of England. Accident alone placed him in the service of Spain, for when at length the message reached him from England, ordering him to attend the court, an arrangement had been come to with Ferdinand and Isabella of Spain. Thereafter preparations were made for the voyage, and on August 3, 1492, he set sail. It is needless to tell of his progress, to relate how, after sailing for some three weeks, he still saw nothing but sea about him, and how his men desired him to return, believing that were they to sail over the horizon there would be no escape, and no power of getting back to their native land. Then they found themselves surrounded by a mass of seaweed, extending as far as the eye could reach, and through which they slowly cleaved their way. At length, after a voyage of thirty-six days, land was sighted, and after three months the bold mariners returned with the information that they had discovered an island, and a continent near at hand. This island, now known as Hayti, or San Domingo, was called Hispaniola, while the adjacent country, thought by Columbus, to the day of his death, to be part of a continent, proved to be an island, and was called Cuba.

Thereafter this fine sailor made three voyages, discovering the northern coast of South America in the neighbourhood of Trinidad. He had come to the Indies, he thought – to Earthly Paradise, as he called the land – never suspecting that this was a new and undiscovered world, and that Vicente Pinzon's voyage, together with that of Magalhaes's rounding of the southern cape, would prove it to be part of a mighty continent, then peopled by a dusky race, but hereafter to form a home for new nations of white and coloured men.

The reader can imagine how the tale of this discovery fired the people of Spain, and engrafted in the minds of all, in that of old and young alike, a longing for new fields, for adventure in these foreign parts. For Columbus told of a friendly people, of gorgeous scenery and herbage, and of pearls in abundance. What wonder if thousands clamoured to follow! Spain was at peace, and there was no other outlet for the spirit of chivalry with which her young men were filled. So an expedition was arranged, and Ojeda commanded it. But he fell out with the natives and fought with them, so that when other voyagers came they met too often with the reverse of a welcome.

It would be tedious to detail the names of all the adventurous dons who followed, to tell how Cristobal Guerra and Alonso Nino came directly on Ojeda's heels, and how, with more discretion and perception, they took pains to do as Columbus had done, making friends with the natives. From the latter they obtained for paltry wares an abundance of pearls, all of which had come from the pearl fisheries close at hand, these lying at an island which was so sterile that the natives did not inhabit it. By name Cabagua, it, of course, formed a great attraction to the Spaniards, and when the tale of their success came with them to Spain, and these adventurers carried their stores of pearls ashore, as if they were so many pebbles, the fame of their undertaking went through the breadth of the land. Thousands clamoured to follow, so that ere very long this island was colonized, a town being built there, and named "New Cadiz." Thus we find Spaniards on the mainland, or within a very little distance of it. Nor was it long before La Casas and others followed, all with the one thought of making a fortune.

Some were content to accomplish this purpose by hard work at the fisheries, but others soon took to another trade, and commenced to hunt for slaves. It cannot be a matter of wonder to the reader to hear that these fiends in the end provoked a peaceful group of natives, for along the thousands of leagues of the pearl coast there were numerous races and tribes, many of them of sufficient numbers to be designated nations. They turned and many a Spanish soldier and monk paid the penalty.

But this portion of the northern coast of South America hardly concerns us, though its discovery directly led up to farther wanderings, to more voyages of discovery, and to the finding of Yucatan, of the Isthmus of Panama, and finally to the discovery by the intrepid Vasco Nunez de Bilbao of the Southern Sea, the wide Pacific; for this man actually accomplished the journey across the Isthmus of Panama, and reached the farther coast, where he learned vaguely of the wonders of Peru, of a country where natives lived in stone houses, and in cities; where there was a well-ordered government with a king, and where, as was afterwards discovered during the conquest of these Peruvians, a system of roads existed than which there has never been anything finer. Indeed, an inspection of what remains of these coast roads to-day shows that they were excellently engineered, that they were composed of tough concrete which still holds together, while bridges connected the road across the rivers. More than that, by a system of couriers, stationed at close intervals of some forty yards, it was possible to send a verbal message over the road at a swift rate, the couriers running their forty yards and handing on the message. And that same message could thus be transmitted for a distance of a thousand miles.

However, Peru even does not concern us, for it is to Mexico that we turn, to the northern portion of the long isthmus which connects North to South America, and is spoken of in these days as Central America.

The great Fernando Cortes set sail from Santiago, in Cuba, on November 18, 1518, his banner bearing a coloured cross on a black background, with flames showing here and there, and an inscription in Latin beneath, which read, "Let us follow the Cross, and in that sign we shall conquer."

He sailed with an armament of five hundred and fifty Spaniards, two or three hundred Indians, a few negroes, twelve or fifteen horses, ten brass guns, and some falconets. Touching at Trinidad, he then went to the island of Cosumel, near the north-eastern point of Yucatan, where he was so fortunate to come upon the survivor of a crew of Spaniards who had been wrecked, and who, having lived with the natives for very long, spoke their language fluently. In this manner an excellent interpreter was obtained.

Fernando then set his prow for the west, and came to Tabasco, where he landed, and encountering resistance from the natives, fought a great battle, defeating his enemy. But Tabasco was not the country for which he aimed, and it was the ambition of this leader to go farther north, to discover new lands, and to find wealth. Nor was he destined to be disappointed, for the Tabascans could tell tales of other countries, tales which had come to their ears, and there was one amongst them who had lived in the provinces of a country which paid tribute to Mexico. This person was a female slave, by name Marina, and she was given, together with others, to the Spaniards after their victory. Thus Cortes, almost at the very commencement of his voyage, found himself in possession of a Spaniard able to converse with the Mexicans, and of a woman slave of rare intelligence, and, as was to be afterwards proved, of the utmost loyalty to her new masters, who could make up for any deficiencies of the Spaniard.

With this success to encourage him, Cortes embarked again, and set sail for the north, arriving at a portion of the coast opposite to Mexico, which lay some little distance inland, hidden by its encircling mountains, and to which he gave the name of St. Juan de Ulua. Here he met with a friendly reception from the natives, and very shortly received in audience two gorgeous officers who had been sent by the great king Montezuma, the lord of Mexico.

To all the expressed wishes of the Spaniards for a permit to go to the city of Mexico this Montezuma returned evasive replies, and finally forbade them to come. And on every occasion on which he sent his envoys they came to Cortes laden with gold and jewels, and with feathered cloaks, all gifts to the Spaniards, a mark of the king's high favour. Had he sent anything else, or words alone, he would have done much better, and perhaps the history of Mexico would be vastly different to-day; for Cortes and his company had a quicker eye and a readier ear for riches and tales of riches, of gold and jewels, than they had for lands, for peoples as yet undiscovered. They were tempted, and this refusal to allow them to proceed acted rather as a spur than as a deterrent. Cortes was not the man to be baulked by any one, and certainly not by a native, even if he were a king. He was ambitious, as has been said, decisive and bold, and, in addition, was of a dogged disposition. He had come to discover, to gain new lands for the king, his master, and he would not be deterred by a native. Had he known the warlike disposition of the Mexicans, and the armies which they and their allies were able to put into the field, it is possible that he would have hastily embarked again, and sailed for Hispaniola or Cuba, with a view to gathering fresh forces. But there was more than doggedness and sheer contrariness as a cause for his determination to go to the city of Mexico; for it happened that Cortes had many enemies – so many, in fact, that though the command had been given to him, Velazques would have taken it from him within a day or two, and, indeed, sent a messenger with instructions that Cortes was to be recalled. However, this was not what this gallant leader wanted, and he evaded the summons and proceeded to the coast of New Spain. To return now unsuccessful would mean not alone the loss of command, but much more. Indeed, Cortes had disobeyed the orders of those in authority, so that to gain his own pardon it was necessary for him to make some conquest, and to establish his right to lead. Therefore, in spite of the numbers opposed to him, numbers which he learned were big, but the proportions of which he never even guessed at, he decided to push on for Mexico, and conquer the country if that were possible. We shall see how he fared in this adventure, and how the very fact of his being a white man aided him; also how circumstances played into his hands, so as to render him the utmost help. But Roger de Luce is still in his cage, and we will return to him.

"I have been speaking with one of the prisoners," said Tamba, some little while after Roger had awakened, and had looked about him with curious eyes. "Our tongue is somewhat like his, but he also speaks Spanish. He is one of the allies of these men who came to Cuba, and he was captured in a battle which took place a little while ago."

"Then the Spanish under Fernando Cortes are here!" exclaimed Roger, in some astonishment, for this was the first intimation he had had of that fact. "Did you ask how long they had been in Mexico, and what success they had had?"

"They were here some months, and have been gone a little while, my lord," was the answer. "The Mexicans rose, and drove them out. Now they are awaiting their return."

"And will they submit?" demanded Roger, anxiously. "For then we shall become captives of the Spaniards, and that would be worse even than this."

There was a doubting look in Tamba's eyes, and for a little while he hesitated whether to tell his young master of the critical position in which they were. At length he summoned courage, and spoke.

"To be a Spanish captive again could hardly be worse than our fate now," he said softly. "My lord is now a prisoner in the hands of the Mexicans, and he knows nothing of these people, save that they live in the centre of a lake. He does not know of their cruelty, and of their wicked practices."

Roger was entirely ignorant, to speak the truth, and, more than that, was amazed at the size of Mexico, and the huge numbers of people he saw about when he looked down from the pass, and the fine houses in which they lived. Till then he had hardly expected the natives in this new part to be much different from those to be seen in Cuba. But he was to learn much in the next few hours, and before he departed from Mexico was to know that these Aztecs were in many ways highly civilized, practising many of the higher arts and crafts, learned in picture writing, and able engineers. Alongside these attainments, Roger learned that they had certain practices which were strangely incongruous in a people so advanced in civilization, and that the nation, from the highest downwards, was swayed by the cruellest superstitions and religious rites. He was now to hear of one of the latter.

"Their wicked practices!" he gasped. "What do you mean? They looked peaceful enough, and rather melancholy, I thought. What are these practices?"

"The sacrifice, master," said Tamba, mournfully. "These Mexicans have many gods to whom they look, and whom they seek to appease, some with gifts of meat and cereals, others with the sacrifice of animals, while there is one in particular, the mighty war god, named Huitzilopochtli, to whom they offer men."

"Men! They sacrifice human beings!" exclaimed Roger, in disgust and dismay. "Then we – "

"Are reserved for that fate; and all these others, master. They will kill us so that we may bring fortune to them in their wars, and aid them against the Spaniards."

"Then they take us for enemies instead of friends," said Roger, quickly. "They think, perhaps, that we are Spaniards in Cortes's band, and therefore will be more than ever inclined to kill us."

"They say that we are a portion of these invaders, and that we must die. The man with whom I spoke told me that. He says that we may be summoned at any time, and that they will drag us to this war god. It is a horrible thought!"

Roger looked about him as if in a dream. He was stupefied and stunned by the awful news which Tamba had given him; for though he had by now met danger boldly and without flinching, and had risked his life in the encounters with the Spaniards, yet this cruel fate undermined his courage. He was ready to die when the time came, but to be held down, perhaps, and then slaughtered like a sheep, was too horrible. The thought unmanned him, and for a little while he sank on his knees, his face buried in his hands. Then he gradually recovered his composure and looked about him, his eye turning to the prisoners in the second cage. There were at least two hundred of them, and he was astounded to find that they were chatting contentedly together, some even laughing and joking. Was the same fate reserved for them? He turned and asked Tamba the question.

"The same, my lord," was the calm answer. "But these men look upon it in a different way. Thousands die here every year for the sake of the gods, and death in that manner is an honour. I have asked this man, and he said that their religion teaches them that to be sacrificed gives instant admission to the region of the sun, where they live happily afterwards. As to the death, it is swift and sure, and the deed is soon done. Fear not, master, for it may not come to that. Perhaps they will believe that you are no Spaniard."

It was poor consolation, but Roger had to make the most of it. He sat for a long while thinking the matter over, and when a few hours had gone, was himself again, prepared to face the executioners, should it come to that. But the native prisoners amazed him. True, all these Aztecs had a melancholy cast of countenance, but a glance at their faces showed that the doom awaiting them made little impression, and did not weigh on their minds. They were resigned and happy. Later on he learned that throughout the land of Mexico these sacrifices were carried on, and that at the lowest computation twenty thousand men died on the sacrificial altars during the year. The people were held fast in the chains of a cruel religious despotism, and bowed themselves in abject resignation. They saw their finest children, their sons and their firstborn torn from them, and acquiesced because their superstitions bade them do so. It was a horrible condition of affairs, and cruel though the Spaniards were, their coming was a boon to the country, though it broke up the Aztec races. However, we are anticipating, and will return to Roger.

Late in the afternoon there was a stir in the huge quadrangle in which the cages were built, and attendants came with food for the captives. Then a mass of people began to filter into the square, and amongst them some who were dressed in black robes, and wore their hair in long tangled wreaths about their necks and faces. They were ugly-looking fellows, and Roger shuddered as he looked at them.

"The priests," whispered Tamba, "and that" – pointing to one clad in scarlet – "is the head of all, the one who performs the sacrifice. They are coming towards us."

"Then we will fight till we are killed! Sooner that than be butchered. Let us look for a weapon, Tamba, and then we will set these fellows at defiance."