Was Montezuma mad? is one of the questions which this story poses. There is not the smallest evidence that the Spaniards thought him mad. He appeared deluded, and deluded, as some of them conceived, by the Devil who at that time was believed to be a real supernatural person, defeated but still strong enough to oppose God. The opinion that Montezuma was devil-deluded and that the whole Mexican religion was the Devil’s invention, was, however, difficult to square with the prophecy which had favoured the invasion. Why should the Devil utter a prophecy whose effect would be to assist those who wanted to destroy his rule in Mexico? The Spaniards had, no doubt, answers to this conundrum, such as that God had forced the Devil to utter a self-destructive prophecy, just as the demons in possessed persons were recorded in the Bible as testifying to Christ’s divinity. Those who gave credit to this explanation saw in the prophecy the first step in a divine plan to give them possession of the country. As Cortés believed himself to be the instrument of this divine plan, its further details would presently be revealed. This belief, the product of his personal ambitions moulded by the religious ideas of his time, encouraged him to take risks which common prudence would have told him were too great. Both he and Montezuma were each in their opposite ways driven by the prophecy.
If it did not occur to the Spaniards that Montezuma was mad, have we any grounds for thinking that he was? Ought we to view him as some kind of a psychopath? Should we ask the psychiatrists to pronounce on him? He was no madder than his predecessors. Take his immediate predecessor, Auitzotzin (Lord Water-opossum). Thirty-two years previously this Mexican sovereign had dedicated the temple of the Humming Bird which stood opposite the Spaniards’ quarters and was similar to the one they visited in the northern part of the city. One of the best-established facts of Mexican history is that 20,000 captives were sacrificed on that occasion. They were not all sacrificed at the one temple. That would have been impossible. The 20,000 were probably divided up between the two Humming Bird temples in the metropolis. For twenty days long queues of captives waited below these pyramids to have their hearts cut out. The priests operated till they were exhausted. There were great public banquets of human legs and arms. The carnivora in the zoo were gorged with the trunks. This nightmare orgy was madder than anything done by Montezuma.
The psychiatrists would probably tell us that all the Mexicans were suffering from some kind of mental derangement. They had inherited a religion of fear from earlier civilizations and, instead of growing out of it, had greatly elaborated it and in consequence had grown more frightened. There seemed to be no laughter or compassion left in their character. They had shouldered the grim responsibility of maintaining the cosmic round. Their ruling caste was dedicated to that superhuman task and drenched the altars with blood in their efforts to discharge it efficiently. The Spaniards owed their admission to the country solely to the fact that Cortés was conceived of as an astro-magical force. Each move in the drama was subject to the influence of this fantasy. As long as he was held to be that, and not the leader of an invading force arrived from a country overseas hitherto unknown, he was safe and the profit he might hope to make depended on how successfully he exploited so lucky a chance. But the moment his astro-magical identity was doubted, he would begin to be in danger; if the doubt became general, his position would be that of an ordinary invader.
Cortés, being ignorant of the Mexican system of thought and precluded from finding out its nature, both by the absence of any persons to explain it and his own inability to understand it if they did, could not be quite sure he was safe as long as he did nothing to destroy the illusion which protected him. Despite Montezuma’s declarations, he judged himself to be in a precarious position. He had not been invested with any executive functions nor was there any talk that this might follow. It may be that Montezuma, when he said he was ready to hand over the country, did not intend this to have an everyday practical meaning; he would continue in his executive office, while Cortés’ authority would be of an astro-magical kind. This possible interpretation never entered Cortés’ head. All he saw was that, though his power had been acknowledged, he exercised no functions. He had attempted to exert his powers in the case of religion and had been resisted. Yet something must be done; he could not live in a vacuum. He resolved accordingly on a stroke which, though in fact safe, was dangerous as far as his information went. He decided to put Montezuma under restraint. On the face of it, such an action taken by a man in his position was likely to rouse the Mexicans to fury. Yet he thought it was practicable, partly because his reception was only to be explained on the assumption that the Mexicans credited him with some sort of power which they could not, or ought not to, resist, and partly, as I have explained, because the prophecy was a guarantee of success, inasmuch as it had been inspired by God.
Before he put the plan into execution two events of importance happened. The palace of Lord Face of Water where the Spaniards put up was normally used as a treasury where a large reserve of tribute, gold, jewels, mantles and the like was stored. Among its maze of rooms was a chamber which Montezuma had sealed up. The Spaniards heard a rumour of this and one day when looking for a suitable place to build an altar they saw marks that suggested a hidden door. Chipping off the plaster, they found the entrance to the treasure chamber. Cortés and some of his captains went in first. ‘They beheld,’ says Bernal, ‘such a number of jewels and slabs and plates of gold and jades and other great riches, that they were speechless.’ All the soldiers were allowed to have a look. ‘I had never seen such riches in my life,’ adds Bernal, ‘and felt sure there could not be another such store in all the world.’ Cortés did not take anything and had the door sealed up as before. But he resolved that the treasure should be his. The sight of the gold had greatly excited his followers. They would risk anything, he reflected, even the seizure of Montezuma, to get it into their hands and safely away.
The second important event was of a very different kind but was also relevant to what he had in mind. It will be recalled that Juan de Escalante had been left to garrison Vera Cruz in the Totonac country. News now came in that he had been killed along with several of his men. The facts were these. The Mexicans had a garrison on the gulf coast about 150 miles north-west of Vera Cruz. Some little time after the Spaniards marched inland, the Mexican governor, a man called Quauhpopoca (Smoking Eagle) told the Totonacs that they must now pay their taxes. They refused and appealed to Escalante for help. He had only forty soldiers fit to fight, two cannon and two muskets fit to fire. However, he sallied out against Quauhpopoca with a supporting force of Totonacs. The Mexicans, who numbered four thousand, defeated him. He managed to get back to Vera Cruz, but died there of his wounds. The result was that the Totonacs submitted to the Mexicans. The garrison at Vera Cruz was beleaguered and in great peril.
On hearing this, Cortés assumed that Quauhpopoca had acted as he had done under instructions from Montezuma. If our reading is correct, this could hardly have been so; or if Montezuma did tell Quauhpopoca to collect the taxes he did not anticipate that the Spaniards would march out and fight. There is some evidence that he required a Spanish head for magical purposes, but this did not mean any change in his attitude to the Spaniards in general. If, however, Montezuma was responsible in the sense that Cortés believed and was turning against him, an attempt to imprison him would immediately precipitate an attack, which Cortés was very badly situated to meet, as he himself was really the prisoner. But for the reasons I have given and now also because he concieved that the situation could only be righted by a desperate fling, he continued in his resolve to seize Montezuma. There is evidence in Bernal’s history that the Spaniards, after five days in a sinister and mysterious city surrounded by hosts of armed Mexicans, were feeling extremely nervous. The news from Vera Cruz alarmed them still more. Thus, Cortés’ plans, conceived in the first place as a step towards the practical assumption of the power which had been offered to him, became an attempt to forestall a supposed onslaught on himself.
How the seizure was effected is related by Bernal, who was present, by Cortés himself, and more shortly by a soldier called Andrés de Tapia who was also there. But what passed was at bottom incomprehensible to them. None of them attempted to reconcile Montezuma’s behaviour on the occasion with their supposition that he was privy to the attack on the Spaniards at Vera Cruz.
On the morning of November 14th Cortés sent word to Montezuma that he wanted to speak to him about what had happened at Vera Cruz. Montezuma replied that he would be glad to see him. It will be remembered that Montezuma’s palace was only some fifty yards down the same street. Cortés, after ordering the main body of his soldiers to stand on the alert inside the quarters, and posting small detachments at the corners of nearby side streets so as to secure his return, walked to the palace with five of his captains, including Alvarado and Sandoval, and a squad of soldiers fully armed. He was admitted into Montezuma’s presence. The sovereign’s court and large bodyguard were in attendance or within easy call.
After the usual polite exchanges, Cortés put on an angry expression and reproached Montezuma for perfidiously attacking him in Vera Cruz while he protested his friendship in Mexico. Montezuma seemed alarmed by the god’s tone. He protested at once that he had not ordered Quauhpopoca to attack the Spaniards. An inquiry would be held, he would send for Quauhpopoca, those responsible would be punished. And calling messengers, he gave them his seal and ordered them to set out immediately for the coast. Cortés thanked him, and then came to the point. Until the matter is cleared up, he said, I would like you to move over to Lord Face of Water’s palace.
The request was a great shock to Montezuma. He had feared that troubles were in store for him, but to be made captive was an unexpected humiliation. You are proposing to detain me? he asked. Certainly not, Cortés assured him. All I suggest is that you, your wives, your children, your whole court should come and stay with me. You will be at perfect liberty to leave when you like. You can bring your lords, hold your council, transact state business as usual, have what entertainments and food you please. Any suite of rooms you select will be reserved for you.
That it was a grievous affront and that his lords would never consent, was Montezuma’s reply.
No affront is meant, said Cortés. You will be as comfortable there as you are here. My men, who already admire you, will treat you with every respect. You and I will be able to converse with more ease. I have made plans for your advancement. My intention is to support you against your enemies and make you a yet greater sovereign than you are. Your boundaries will be extended with my assistance.
What will my people say! Montezuma could only repeat.
You must tell your people, said Cortés, that you are going at your own wish. Say your gods have commanded it. That will allay popular excitement and prevent a breach of the peace.
Montezuma still hesitated. He knew that he must submit. Truly, a god had commanded it. The humiliation would have to be borne. There were no magical reasons against his detention as fundamental as those which had nerved him to evade Cortés’ demand to put the Virgin’s image on the pyramid. But it seemed so hard to endure. To be turned out of his own palace where he had been living for seventeen years! Yet, Quetzalcoatl was the rightful king. He became silent.
Bernal writes that at this point the Captains, thinking that Montezuma was about to order his bodyguard to kill them, cried: ‘Stab him if he cries out!’ This, however, was a complete misconception. Montezuma had no intention of the sort. After begging Cortés to take his son and two daughters as hostages instead of himself, and being refused, he at last agreed to go. He told the court and the officers of the bodyguard that it was his own wish and that they must respect his wish, for it would be to his advantage. The courtiers heard him with consternation. With grief his lords, barefooted and eyes lowered, brought his litter, and weeping, placed him on it in profound silence. ‘Thus we went to my quarters,’ wrote Cortés to Charles, ‘without causing any commotion in the city, and all was as completely quiet as if nothing had happened.’ And Bernal sums up: ‘All the attentions and amusements which it was possible for him to have, both Cortés and all of us did our best to afford him. He was not put under any personal restraint and soon all the principal Mexican lords and his nephews came to talk with him and learn the reason of his seizure and whether he wished them to attack us. Montezuma answered them that he was delighted to be some days with us. They must not excite themselves nor the city, nor take it to heart, for what had happened was agreeable to the gods.’
Montezuma as priest-king was the supreme authority on what was pleasing to the gods. He had, we may be sure, again and again discussed the return of Quetzalcoatl with the High Priest, and with the other two members of his Council of Three, the Governor of the City and the Commander-in-Chief. Like all Mexican noblemen, these two last had in their time been priests and were professors of the sacred lore. Every step he had taken so far must have been in agreement with them. They will have concurred with his reading of the magical books and like him seen no alternative but to submit to the fate foretold for the country. His kinsmen, the rulers of the lake cities, had not the science to contradict him. That he was abandoning his sovereignty seemed to them a terrible thing, but they had no alternative to accepting the fact. Nevertheless, as we shall see, there were some lords who refused to agree.
In a week or so Quauhpopoca and three of his captains arrived in custody from the coast. Cortés had them taken first into Montezuma’s apartments. What transpired at that interview is not recorded, but Montezuma sent them to Cortés to be tried. On Quauhpopoca being asked whether he had killed the Spaniards by order of Montezuma, he replied that he had not been ordered to do so. My view is that this must have been true, though under his general orders he had found himself in a situation where to kill Spaniards seemed what was expected of him. Cortés condemned him and his captains to death by burning. The sentence was carried out in the square in front of Montezuma’s palace. The fuel used was a quantity of wooden arms collected from the palaces.
By this black and violent deed Cortés let the public see that he had assumed executive functions. And he made his authority yet more explicit by taking the precaution to chain Montezuma during the burning. He now knew how he stood. He had tried out his power and found that he really possessed it. That he did not fully understand Montezuma’s motives and tragical dilemma was no matter. He understood enough to know he was safe. From this time he began to get to like Montezuma.