Chapter Fifteen: THE HILL OF TZOMPACHTEPETL

Chapter Fifteen: The Hill of Tzompachtepetl

Accompanied by twenty Xocotlan sub-chiefs sent by King Olintecle, the expedition made its way down the Apulco river valley to a town where Olintecle told them they could wait for the messengers’ return. The King had advised Cortez against going to Tlaxcala. “They are bad people,” he said, “traitors against the Great Montezuma. A more treacherous people you will never find.” But Cortez insisted, trusting the advice of Mamexi and the Totonacs.

The town was called Izta Quimaxtitlan (itch’-ta qwee-mox-teet’-lan), and when they arrived, all of the elders and nobles had assembled to greet them, proclaiming they had received word from Tenochtitlan that the Great Montezuma commanded the Spaniards be welcomed in every way the town was able. As the expedition rested and ate, a group of town elders approached Cortez. “They wish to warn you against the people of Tlaxcala,” Malinali explained.

“They say these people are very treacherous and cannot be trusted, that the Tlaxcalans know of you and do not care if you are allies of the Totonacs. The Tlaxcalans say many times have armies come to their country pretending to be friends and once inside, tried to destroy them. The Tlaxcalans do not believe the stories of the Totonacs not paying taxes to Montezuma because of you. The Tlaxcalans say this is not possible, that this is another trick, that their whole country is ready to fight you, to kill you and eat your flesh cooked with chilies.”

Mamexi continued to assure Cortez that the Tlaxcalans would be friendly, that these warnings all came from allies of Montezuma and enemies of the Tlaxcalans, and cautioned Cortez to wait until the messengers returned. But the messengers did not return. When they had still failed to arrive the next morning, Cortez ordered the expedition to set forth toward the Tlaxcala border.

They had gone about two leagues when they came to a stone wall half again as high as a tall man, many paces thick, and running for several miles across the entire width of the valley. No one was manning the wall, no one was at the gate in the wall through which the road passed. “What use is this wall with no one here?” Cortez asked Mamexi, who shrugged his shoulders in answer. As they passed through the gate, Cortez sent a few horsemen ahead to scout.

These horsemen had not gone far when they spotted a dozen or so Tlaxcalan warriors, who fled at the sight of them. They sprinted down the valley, the horses after them, Cortez catching up and waving, trying to get them to understand he wanted only to speak with them. Just as they caught up with the fleeing warriors, they turned and began slashing at the horses with their obsidian swords. Cortez and Olid had to cut five of them down. Suddenly, from gullies on either side of the road, thousands of Tlaxcalan warriors sprang to attack the horsemen in ambush. Their faces were painted in bright colors, they leapt high in the air in a wild frenzy while yelling war cries, and charged the Spaniards en masse.

Cortez noticed, however, that they only fought straight-on, so that no matter how many warriors there were in a group, you only fought the first row of them. When you killed them, then you fought the next row, and the next and the next. Bodies began piling up around Pedro de Alvarado, around Sandoval, Olid, and Avila. Then the Spanish crossbowmen and those with muskets got close enough to cause more damage. The obsidian swords of the Indians were sharp but would easily shatter when hit by a sword of Toledo steel. With scores of dead before them and not one Spaniard casualty, the Tlaxcalans broke and fled.

A number of Spaniards were wounded, however. Cortez ordered their wounds be dressed with the fat of a dead enemy combatant. As this was being done, two of the Totonac messengers arrived, and excitedly began exclaiming to Malinali. “They say these warriors who attacked us are not Tlaxcalan,” she relayed to Cortez. “They are Otomi, primitives from an area the Tlaxcalans don’t really control.”

“Perhaps,” was Cortez’s only response. The expedition carried on to a small stream near a town that was abandoned. Deciding to camp there for the night, the Spaniards found a number of the small hairless dogs bred for food wandering about the town. They provided dinner for all. For the entire night, Cortez ordered patrols and scouts to be on alert, and for the horses to be kept bitted and saddled in case of attack.

Marching off at dawn, the expedition had not gone far when they were confronted with a swarm of Indian warriors. “More of these Otomi?” Cortez asked Pedro de Alvarado sarcastically. “There must be more than five thousand of them.” The Indians were shouting, jumping in the air, waving their obsidian swords, banging on drums, blowing shell trumpets, and firing off arrows even though the Spaniards were out of range.

Cortez called for three Otomi prisoners captured yesterday. “Doña Marina, tell them to go these warriors facing us with this message: That we come in peace and as friends, that we do not wish to make war upon them but to have them as brothers.” As they went off, he then asked for Diego de Godoy. “Señor de Godoy, as the King’s Notary I ask that you record that we pleaded for peace with these people, and that any killing done today will be done in our defense.”

Cortez and his men watched as the captured emissaries reached the warriors and talked to them. Whatever message was given it only increased their fury. They moved closer and their arrows started getting in range. Sending Malinali back to the rear, Cortez pulled out his sword and yelled, “Santiago – and at them!” The Spaniards charged. The crossbowmen started hitting their targets as did the musketmen, with the flash and smoke of the muskets causing terror among the Indians – more so when their fellows began dropping from an unseen force.

As the horsemen in front trampled over three Otomi chiefs, the enemy broke and ran into a ravine. Charging after them, it wasn’t until the Spaniards were in the ravine that they realized it was a trap. Thousands upon thousands of enemy warriors were waiting for them in ambush. All the Spaniards could do was cut their way through the ravine. First to make it through was Diego de Ordaz on his horse. Then came Mamexi and a group of Totonacs to protect him and the others as they arrived on level ground.

As the Spaniards fought off the hordes, using their shields to ward off the rain of arrows and stones, and their swords swept down rank after rank of the enemy, more and more of them made it to Mamexi and Ordaz. Except for one horse and rider. Pedro de Moron was surrounded, with hundreds of the enemy in a frenzy to kill them both. One Indian grabbed Moron’s lance and a dozen more pulled him off his horse. With their obsidian broadswords, they slashed at the horse, cutting off her head at the neck. As the horse fell dead, Cortez and Sandoval made their way to Moron, their horses trampling the Indians around him and pulling him to safety.

During the charge through the ravine, the six Lombard guns had been left behind. Malinali ordered the Totonacs with her to haul them around the ravine to where the Spaniards had emerged. Once they arrived, Pedro de Alvarado commanded their firing into the masses of enemy warriors swarming out of the ravine. The first discharge decapitated a principal Otomi chief with his giant feather headdress and killing a good many others. The battle was suddenly over. In silence, the thousands of attacking Otomi simply turned and walked away.

* * * * *

The Spaniards stared in exhaustion at the retreating Indians, then fell to their knees to give thanks to God. On his knees like the rest, Cortez called out, “We thank thee, O Lord, for coming to our deliverance on this day (1), and pray You will continue to give us the strength to do Your will in this land.” Fifteen men had been wounded, and were treated with the fat of a dead Otomi. Padre Bartholomew gave Pedro de Moron the last rites.

Cortez with Malinali at his side, then approached Mamexi. “Chief Mamexi,” he proclaimed loudly for his men to hear, and Malinali matching his voice so the Totonacs could hear as well, “you and our Totonac brothers have done us great service this day. We all wish to give you our thanks.” He pulled his sword from its scabbard and held it high as a sign of respect and appreciation. All those Spaniards who could do so did the same. It was a solemn moment. When the swords were sheathed, Mamexi responded. “You are indeed our brothers. Never before have we seen such fighting, so few defeating so many. Only Teules could win such a battle. It is our honor to fight with such Teules and to have them as brothers.”

Nearby was a town with houses encircling a hill with temples on top. “That could serve as a fortress,” observed Cortez, who ordered the expedition to encamp there. As they proceeded to the hill, Cortez on horseback with Malinali walking beside him, he cast his eyes down upon her. “Doña Marina,” he said quietly, “it was important for me to thank Chief Mamexi aloud to his men, not only because it was true how much he helped us, but to save him from the shame that we have been attacked by people he said were his allies. Now, Doña Marina, I must thank you. Do not think that in the heat of the battle it escaped our notice that you had the Lombards brought up to secure our victory.”

A number of Spaniards walking nearby overheard Cortez’s words, among them Bernal. They unsheathed their swords and held them aloft, as Bernal called out, “We all thank you, Doña Marina!” Malinali looked around at them all and thanked them with her eyes.

The hill was named Tzompachtepetl (chome-potch-tay’-pettle). The expedition ate well that night, feasting on turkeys and the little dogs found in the abandoned town below, and sleeping as much as possible. Fifteen of the enemy had been captured, and the next morning Cortez, Malinali, and Mamexi sat down to question them. Mamexi wanted to know why they attacked allies of their friends, the Totonacs. He pointed at two of the prisoners wearing red and white cotton armor.

“You are not Otomi,” he told them. “You are Tlaxcalan chiefs. You must explain yourselves.”

“Our King, Xicotencatl (chico-ten-cottle, Ring of the Wasp), believed your messengers,” came their reply, “and said the Totonacs are our friends of many years, so we must accept these strange men you bring with you. But King Xicotencatl is old, and his son, Young Xicotencatl disagreed, and it is Young Xicotencatl who is the leader of our army. So Young Xicotencatl ordered the Otomi to attack you. He is our commander and we must obey him.”

Malinali began giving them a supply of blue glass beads. “Have you ever seen chalcahuite stones as rare and beautiful as these?” she asked. “Take them as a sign of our friendship. I am from a kingdom such as yours, who first saw these strangers as enemies. But I have learned that they do not want war, they wish no harm to you, but only want to pass through Tlaxcala to the land of the Mesheeka and to speak to Montezuma. Please take these blue chalcahuites to your King and your Commander and tell them this.” She looked at Cortez who nodded. “You are free to go,” she told the Tlaxcalan chiefs.

The following morning, the two chiefs returned. From their arrogant strut and contemptuous expression, Malinali could predict what they would say. “These men have returned with Young Xicotencatl’s answer. He welcomes your request for peace, for the way to peace is for them to gorge themselves on your flesh, and to pay honor to their gods with your hearts and blood. He promises to give you this peace tomorrow, for he promises to leave none of you alive.”

Cortez showed no anger. Instead, he had more strings of glass beads be given to them, and had Malinali ask in a tone of innocent puzzlement why the Young Xicotencatl felt this way. Wine was brought to loosen the Tlaxcalan lips. King Xicotencatl was blind with age, it was revealed. The Young Xicotencatl was anxious to gain a great victory over invaders so he could be hailed as the new King. He had 10,000 warriors under his command. A great chief named Maxixcatzin (mox-eeks-cot’-zin) had joined him with another 10,000 followers, and the same with chiefs Tecapacanea and Guaxoban. Still more were brought by Chief Chichimecatecle (chi-chi-mek-a-tek’-lay), but… but…

Malinali served them more wine.

Chichimecatecle despised the Young Xicotencatl, it turned out, and was intensely loyal to the old King. Other chiefs like Maxixcatzin were also more loyal to the former rather than the latter. “What is the sign that the warriors of Chichimecatecle follow?” Malinali wanted to know. A banner with a large white bird, its wings outstretched, she was told. The Tlaxcalans were thanked, and sent on their way.

As word spread among the Spaniards that fifty thousand Indians would attack them the next day, they began lining up to confess to Padres de la Merced, Juan Diaz, and Bartholomew de Olmedo. Praying and preparations for battle went on all night. At dawn Cortez issued strict orders. The crossbowmen were warned to use their arrows carefully and to be sure some were loading while others shooting so there would be a slow, steady and constant fire. The same for the musketmen.

The horsemen were to hold their lances short and aim for their enemies’ eyes. The swordsmen were to aim at the enemies’ bowels. “A man cannot fight when blinded, nor when he sees his intestines pouring out of him and onto the ground, nor when he sees this happening to his comrades,” Cortez concluded. “In every encounter in this land, we have prevailed. With God’s help, we will do so again today.”

They had marched less than half a league from Tzompachtepetl when they came upon the Tlaxcalan army arrayed across a broad plain. Never had the Spaniards even imagined an army so large. “There are enough of them to eclipse the sun,” one of them cried out. “There will be no eclipses on this day!” Cortez thundered in response.

Nonetheless, it was a stunning sight. These were no Otomi barbarians, but Tlaxcalan warriors in full battle attire, adorned with feathers and war paint, wearing wooden, cotton, and leather armor, brandishing obsidian-toothed swords, lances, slings, and firing arrows. Hundreds of wood cylinder drums called teponaztli were being pounded and thousands of blasts from atecocoli conch trumpets sounded. Above this din rose the war cries of tens of thousands of frenzied Indians. They charged towards the Spaniards.

Cortez had noted that among the banners being held aloft within the Tlaxcalan forces, the one with the white bird was off to the right. He called for his men not to fire upon nor attack the Tlaxcalans on their right, but to concentrate on the center and left. Once the charging Indians got in range of the Lombards, they were set off one at a time, so each cannonball hurtling horribly through masses of human flesh would have maximum impact on the Indians’ minds. As they got closer, the crossbowmen and musketmen began a steady fire. Still they came, for there were so many thousands more.

Cortez ordered most of the footmen forward to meet the charge, then he and a number of horsemen swung around to the left, crashing into the Tlaxcalan army’s flank. This took the Tlaxcalans completely by surprise as they had never experienced such a tactic. Confusion and panic spread among them. There were so many of them, firing off so many arrows and slung stones, that many of these arrows and stones hit their own men. The Spaniards fought like wild men with their swords, and the Tlaxcalans began to give way. When the entire flank of Chichimecatecle and Maxixcatzin’s forces, which had not been attacked and had held back in the charge, started to withdraw, the panic among Xicotencatl’s forces overcame them.

Pedro de Alvarado and his brothers on horseback tried to pursue the fleeing warriors but pulled up, so tired they could barely sit in their saddles. The foot soldiers could barely lift their arms, so tired from wielding their swords. Strangely, as they knew they had killed countless enemy, not one Tlaxcalan body lay dead on the field. Every last corpse had been carried off in the retreat. Cortez and his men again dropped to their knees in praise and thanks to God for again, on this day (2), leading them to victory.

* * * * *

Three Tlaxcalan chieftains, however, had been captured. They were brought before Cortez. “I mean you no harm and you will soon be set free,” he had Malinali tell them, as they were given glass beads, and wine to drink. “I wish for you to give my greetings to my brother, King Xicotencatl, who I know wants peace between us. Please tell your King that as we have been attacked by his son twice, attacks unprovoked by us, that unless his son surrenders to us we will kill him and every last one of his soldiers. We wish for peace and friendship as you have with the Totonacs. But as you have noticed, because of the treachery of the King’s son, the Totonacs now join us in fighting you. A King must be able to control his own son. If King Xicotencatl truly wants peace, and wants his son to live, he must command obedience from him.”

During his speech, Cortez made sure his captives’ wine cups were always refilled. It was not long before the captives responded by saying they would be happy to bring this message to their King, that Young Xicotencatl has disobeyed his father, but that Young Xicotencatl was certain of victory over the strangers because he knew their secret weakness.

And what might that secret weakness be? Malinali asked very gently.

“That these so-called Teules lose all their powers at night, so if they cannot be defeated during the day, he will destroy them in the dark. This is what the tacal naguas, wizards, have told him.”

The chieftains were complimented for their bravery in battle, reminded once again of the message they were to take to their King, and sent woozily on their way.

When Young Xicotencatl’s men, several thousand strong, attacked Tzompachtepetl that night, it was the Tlaxcalans who were surprised to find the Spaniards ready for them at the bottom of the hill. The moon had risen, giving enough light for the horsemen to pursue the enemy and cut him down by the score. The attackers fled into the blackness.

When the morning broke, however, a great many Spaniards awoke to find themselves in pain over their wounds suffered in the fighting of the last several days, and in despair over their fate. What if these Indians kept on attacking? How much longer could a few hundred of them, even with a couple of thousand Totonac allies, continue to hold off swarms of warriors as numerous as ants?

To make matters worse, Cortez had contracted a fever, with chills and sweating spells and fits of delirium. There was no salt nor oil to dress wounds, only fat from dead enemies. There was no food to be found any longer, with the turkeys and dogs already eaten. Malinali saw all the signs – the men were losing hope.

She began to walk among them, helping to dress their bandages, bringing them water, but especially to talk to them. She told them that the Tlaxcalans were sure to make peace now after suffering such defeats, that she had talked with Tlaxcalan prisoners captured during the night attack who told her they had never seen such bravery and were convinced the Spaniards could not be defeated.

It was her calmness of manner, her complete lack of fear, that soothed and reassured them as much as her words. And it was true, she had talked to the Tlaxcalan prisoners and they had made such exclamations. But she didn’t tell the soldiers what she said to the prisoners in return:

“Your tacal naguas are fools. They play with their stupid magic tricks and pretend to know things about which they know nothing. If they knew anything, you wouldn’t be a prisoner now and many of your comrades wouldn’t be dead. Here is what you don’t know: These strangers are more powerful than any men you have ever known. They are not Teules, they are men, but they have a Teule, a God, who is so much stronger than your gods. How else do you think a tiny number of such men can always defeat your vast armies?

“The biggest fool of all is your commander, Young Xicotencatl. He is a stupid young boy, full of foolish and dangerous dreams, who does not have the wisdom of his father. You need to go to his father, go to your King, and explain this. Explain that if he does not control his son, these strangers will get so angry they will kill you all. I have seen with my own eyes how the strangers made peace with the Totonacs. They will make peace with you. But your King must heed my words and quickly, or else Tlaxcala will be doomed.”

Then she told the Spaniard guards that Cortez wanted them released. “Go,” she said, “Go to your King and tell him what I said. Run.” And run they did.

Two days passed, with no further attacks, but also with very little food. As Cortez’s fever continued, so did the complaints and grumbling of his men. The demand arose, especially among the “Velasquez men,” that they all return to Villa Rica and abandon this effort to see Montezuma.

“Almost all of us are wounded, we are sick, we are cold, we have no food,” complained their leader, Alonso de Grado. “God has indeed been on our side so far, but it is foolish to keep tempting Him. If these Tlaxcalans fight so well and are so numerous, how can we possibly hope to succeed against Montezuma’s forces who are far stronger and more numerous than the Tlaxcalans? Not even Alexander the Great nor Caesar himself ever attempted to overcome such odds with such a tiny expedition. We must return to Villa Rica! To go on or stay here is madness!”

The dissenters had assembled in Cortez’s hut, with Cortez too ill to arise from his sickbed. Weakly, he responded, “Yes, there is much truth in what you say, Señor de Grado. I, too, have asked myself about the wisdom of our course. Yet I have confidence that our war with the Tlaxcalans has ended. “Further, I feel that you are seeking ‘a cat with five feet.’ For if we retreat to Villa Rica in defeat, our Totonac allies will lose faith in us. They will turn against us and we will have to fight them.

“So, gentlemen, if one way is bad, the other is worse. We must remember the ancient truth, ‘It is better to die in a good cause than to live in dishonor.’ And we must also be inspired by our fathers and ancestors who liberated our land from the hated Moors. They never gave up against great odds. Have you forgotten what they said?” He smiled gently. “When facing the Moorish hordes, they would tell themselves, ‘The more Moors, the greater the honor’.”

De Grado and the others seemed at least partly persuaded by Cortez’s thoughtful words. “There is wisdom in what you say, our Captain. Let us think upon this,” came de Grado’s reply.

The following day found the men cleaning their equipment, making arrows, and making other preparations for battle, when a scout on horseback came racing into the camp, yelling that hundreds of Tlaxcalan men and women bearing loads were coming in a long procession. Cortez immediately ordered that no one show any alarm or hostility, and for the men to stay in their huts. As the procession entered the camp, four elderly men emerged, obviously chieftains from their dress, jewelry, and feather headdresses. Cortez stepped out of his hut to receive them.

One by one, they bowed to place a hand on the ground and brought earth to their foreheads. They carried baskets of smoldering copal and fumigated Cortez with the smoke. Cortez signaled for the men to come out of their huts and assemble to hear what the Tlaxcalan chiefs were about to say. As they spoke, Malinali made sure she translated loudly enough for everyone to hear.

“Malinche, we come as messengers from our King Xicotencatl who orders that all the Chiefs of Tlaxcala, all their friends, allies, and subjects are to place themselves in bonds of friendship and peace with you. King Xicotencatl asks for your pardon for not meeting you peacefully when you came to his land and for the war that has been waged upon you instead.

“We believed you were friends of the Mesheeka whom we have been fighting for a hundred years. Many times have the Mesheeka entered our land through trickery and treachery to rob us of our women and children. We did not, then, believe the messengers you sent or that the Totonacs were truly your allies.

“We now see we were mistaken and ask your forgiveness. Please accept this food which we have brought for there will be more tomorrow. Soon the King’s son, the Young Xicotencatl, will come to further prove the sincere desire of all Tlaxcala to enjoy friendship with you.”

All four then bowed once more to place their hands on the ground and kiss the earth. Cortez whispered quietly to Malinali, “Do not be alarmed at what I say.” He then spoke loudly so his men could hear, while she explained his words to the chieftains. He spoke angrily:

“I wish for your King to know there are good reasons why we should not listen to him and reject his offer of friendship. Before we entered this land, we sent messengers to offer peace, to explain we wished to assist Tlaxcala against its enemy the Mesheeka. This offer of peace and friendship was not only rejected, we were attacked three times, both by day and night.

“In these attacks, many brave warriors of Tlaxcala were killed, but it is their own fault, it is your King’s own fault, that they are dead. Before you came today, I had decided to stop these attacks by coming to your capital and killing your King myself. But today you have come not to attack us but in peace, so it is in peace that I welcome you and thank you for the food you have brought.”

Cortez then had a number of blue glass beads be given to the chieftains and cups of wine. “This shall be a sign of peace between us. But just as you at first did not trust us, now we at first shall not trust you. It is only when the Young Xicotencatl comes in friendship and escorts us in peace to your capital that there will be trust between us. Be sure, however, that he comes during the day, for we will kill anyone who comes to us in the night.”

Notes:

1. September 2, 1519.
2. September 5.