The Tales Of Buried Treasure At Tenochtitlan

Hernan Cortes, with an army of Spanish conquistadors and their Native American allies, besieged and destroyed the Aztec capital of Tenochtitlan in 1521. The city was greatly damaged during the battle, and in the aftermath of Spain’s conquest of the Aztec Empire, Tenochtitlan was ultimately razed to the ground and rebuilt as Mexico City. Bernal Díaz del Castillo, one of the conquistadors who took part in the campaign, reminisced about the original city of Tenochtitlan, writing, “today all that I then saw is overthrown and destroyed; nothing is left standing” (Conquest of New Spain, chapter 87).

Once the gold-lusting Spaniards gained full control of Tenochtitlan, they were disappointed in the underwhelming amount of treasure that they found in the Aztec capital. Indeed, they tortured the captured Aztec Emperor, Cuauhtémoc (or Guatemoc), for leads on where to find hidden wealth. Cuauhtémoc and other tortured Aztec elites could do little but lead the Spaniards to personal hoards of treasure that they had buried underground or dropped into the marshy lake on which Tenochtitlan had been built. Yet, such sporadic and limited treasure troves did not provide enough loot for Hernan Cortes to divide satisfactorily among his troops.

When the Spaniards set about rebuilding Tenochtitlan as Mexico City, they unintendingly found a new source of buried treasure. The incident occurred while the Spaniards were grading and leveling the rubble at Tenochtitlan for new construction. Bernal Díaz described the scene:

“After we conquered that great and strong city and divided the ground we decided to build a church to our patron and guide St James in place of Huichilobos’ cue, and a great part of the site was taken for the purpose. When the ground was excavated to lay a foundation, gold and silver and chalchihuites, and pearls, and seed-pearls, and other precious stones were found in great quantities; and a settler in Mexico who built on another part of the site found the same” (Conquest of New Spain, chapter 92).

Upon the discovery of the treasure, a court battle ensued over who should take possession of it, with the church, the crown and the local settlers all hoping to get a piece. During the legal dispute, Spanish officials also investigated the origin of the treasure by asking (or interrogating) influential Aztecs about the hoard of wealth that was found under the cue. The aforementioned Bernal Díaz wrote of this, claiming that the captured Emperor Cuauhtémoc and other Aztec elites explained “all the inhabitants of Mexico had thrown jewels and other things into the foundations, as was recorded in their pictures and records of ancient times. The treasure was therefore preserved for the building of St James’s church” (Conquest of New Spain, chapter 92).

Written by C. Keith Hansley

Picture Attribution: (Representation of Tenochtitlan by Diego Rivera, [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:

• The Conquest of New Spain by Bernal Díaz, translated by J. M. Cohen. New York: Penguin Books, 1963.
• https://www.gutenberg.org/files/32474/32474-h/32474-h.htm#FNanchor_66_67 
• http://www.gutenberg.org/files/32475/32475-h/32475-h.htm 
• https://www.britannica.com/biography/Cuauhtemoc 
• https://www.britannica.com/place/Tenochtitlan 
• https://www.britannica.com/place/Mexico-City

The First Scandinavian Reported To Have Seen North America

Two sagas from the 13th century—Eirik the Red’s Saga and the Saga of the Greenlanders—unanimously declare that Leif Eiriksson was the first known Scandinavian to set foot on North America. Despite that acknowledgment, the Saga of the Greenlanders also claimed that at least one other person had seen the New World before Leif made his journey. The person in question was an Icelandic merchant named Bjarni Herjolfsson. Around 986, Bjarni was reportedly seeing to his trade route between Iceland and Norway when he received news that his father, Herjolf, was joining Eirik the Red’s expedition to settle Greenland. By the time Bjarni returned home, his father had already set sail for the new land. This realization disturbed the merchant—perhaps he was worried about his father’s ability to set up a farm alone, or maybe he was simply a filial type of guy who really loved his father. Whatever the case, Bjarni Herjolfsson quickly set back out to sea in order to meet up with his father in Greenland before winter, and he did not even take the time to unload or sell any of the cargo that he brought back from Norway before leaving port.

With his ship overweight and his navigation rushed, Bjarni soon found himself at the mercy of the weather. As the story goes, he was blown off course by storms and then found himself blinded by dense fog. Lost at sea, he continued sailing until finally, at long last, he spotted land. Yet, the sight of the coast perturbed Bjarni, for he had been given a description of his destination before he had set sail, and the lands he saw ahead were in no way Eirik the Red’s misleadingly-named Greenland. What was before him was an entirely different land.

Still eager to reach his father, Bjarni Herjolfsson did not stop to explore on foot, but instead sailed northward along the coast. He watched the geography change as his journey progressed. At first, the country he saw was extremely forested. Tree-covered hills began to give way to wooded flatlands, followed by a region of snow-capped mountains and a glacier on what seemed to be an island. Upon arriving in this more frigid and snowy place, Bjarni and his crew made the fortuitous decision to start sailing back east. Navigating this new route, the lost Icelanders finally reached Greenland, and Bjarni was reunited with Herjolf. Despite seeing plentiful land to the west, Bjarni apparently never attempted to go back to the places he witnessed. He did, however, spread the word in Greenland and similarly told his story in Norway whenever he visited for business.

Leif Eiriksson, according to the Saga of the Greenlanders, was one of the people reportedly captivated by Bjarni Herjolfsson’s tales of land to the west. Eirik the Red’s Saga, however, cuts Bjarni out of the story and instead insists it was Leif who, while returning home from Norway, was blown off course by storms and discovered the New World by accident. Whatever the case, either tipped off by Bjarni Herjolfsson or carried off course by his own fateful storm, Leif was said to have reached North America around the year 1000 and went one step further than Bjarni by actually stepping foot on the land, which he called Vinland.

Written by C. Keith Hansley

Sources:

• The Vinland Sagas (Saga of the Greenlanders and Eirik the Red’s Saga) translated by Keneva Kunz. New York: Penguin Classics, 2008.
• https://www.encyclopedia.com/science/encyclopedias-almanacs-transcripts-and-maps/bjarni-herjolfsson  

The Army Of Hernan Cortes Was Almost Drowned In An Engineered Flood

In the final days of December, 1520, Hernan Cortes began his second march toward the Aztec capital city of Tenochtitlan. Setting out from the land of his allies, the Tlaxcalans, Hernan Cortes crossed mountainous terrain to reach the city of Texcoco. There, he caused Aztec loyalists to flee the region and, in the power vacuum that occurred, the Spaniards propped up a new dissident faction in the city and recognized the faction’s chosen leader as the ruler of Texcoco. With the cooperative Texcocan leader on his side, Hernan Cortes began working on a makeshift port on the city’s lakeside shore from which he wished to launch a blockade against Tenochtitlan. The Spaniards spent a twelve-day span in the city, directing the locals to dredge the local canals and widen the channels to accommodate ships.

After enjoying the new year in Texcoco and spending several days overseeing canal modifications, Hernan Cortes decided to move on from the city in order to relieve his army’s burden on the farmlands of his newfound allies, and to further consolidate power in the cities surrounding Tenochtitlan. Cortes mobilized his army and marched for Iztapalapa, a city still loyal to Tenochtitlan in the Aztec sphere of influence. Hernan Cortes’ movements were not overlooked by the Aztec intelligence network, which had eyes and ears throughout the lakeside cities that surrounded Tenochtitlan. Due to these spies, the Aztecs were able to send thousands of reinforcements to Iztapalapa before the Spaniards arrived. Together, the local city garrison and the reinforcements took to the field to challenge Hernan Cortes’ army in battle—it was a poor decision, for in a fair fight on the open ground, Cortes’ cavalry, crossbows, firearms and artillery gave him an overwhelming advantage. The Aztecs, after their forces were torn apart by such firepower, soon ended their attack and decided to retreat to Iztapalapa. As the day was late and night was beginning to fall, the Spaniards decided not to pursue. Instead, Cortes’ troops settled down in some vacated houses near the lake.

Hernan Cortes and his conquistadors suspected that a night attack was possibly incoming and took precautions by setting up watchmen and sentinels. Forces from Iztapalapa were indeed planning an attack, but it was not spears and arrows that they planned to use in their assault. Instead, with their knowledge of the canals and causeways that crisscrossed the region, the locals decided to let Mother Nature take her own swipe at the Spaniards. During the night, saboteurs from Iztapalapa went to work, and might have ended Hernan Cortes’ meteoric campaign against the Aztecs then and there had it not been for the presence of the Spanish-allied Tlaxcalans and Texcocans, who were wise to Aztec tactics. The vital role of these native allies in detecting and warning the Spaniards of the watery surprise that occurred that night near Iztapalapa was described by Bernal Díaz del Castillo (c. 1492-1580), one of Cortes’ conquistadors. He wrote:

“We placed our sentinels and watchmen, we sent out patrols and scouts. But when we were off our guard, such a flood of water swept through the town that if the chiefs we had brought from Texcoco had not shouted to us to get out of the houses as quickly as we could and make for dry land, we should have all been drowned. For the enemy had emptied the fresh- and salt-water canals, and cut through a causeway, which caused the level of the water to rise suddenly” (Conquest of New Spain, volume 2, chapter 138).

Thanks to the attentiveness of the Texcocans, Hernan Cortes’ army was saved, although the water rolled in so quickly that a few people did indeed die. In addition to the loss of life, the water ruined provisions being hauled along by Cortes’ army and it wetted much of the gunpowder that powered the Spanish firearms and artillery. Furthermore, the flood made many of Cortes’ troops uncomfortable and cold, impairing their sleep and mood. Hoping all of these contributing factors would give them an advantage, the Aztecs launched a powerful attack on Hernan Cortes as soon as dawn arrived. The Spaniards, with their soaked gunpowder, had trouble fending off the attack. Nevertheless, they managed an orderly retreat and fought their way back to Texcoco. Both sides were disappointed in the battle—the Spaniards were embarrassed and humiliated over being forced to retreat, whereas the Aztecs were distraught over their inability to inflict more damage on the conquistadors during their vulnerable state after the engineered flood.

Picture Attribution: (Flood in the Darling by WC Piguenit (1836 - 1914), [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:

• The Conquest of New Spain by Bernal Díaz, translated by J. M. Cohen. New York: Penguin Books, 1963.
• http://www.gutenberg.org/files/32475/32475-h/32475-h.htm
   

Hernán Cortés Reportedly Burned 17 Aztec Military Leaders To Death During Montezuma’s Captivity

On November 8, 1519, Hernán Cortés and his band of conquistadors entered the Aztec capital city, Tenochtitlan, where they met Montezuma II, the leader of the Aztecs at that time. Cortés and Montezuma were able to maintain a cordial relationship for a while, as the Aztec ruler invited the Spaniards to his feasts, allowed them to build a chapel, and let the conquistadors tour the city’s markets and temples in peace. Yet, both sides were naturally suspicious of the other, and while Cortés and Montezuma were acting amiably in public, both were secretly plotting ways to gain an advantage over their rival.

Cortés and the Spaniards especially feared that Montezuma would one day withdraw his protection and order an attack, leaving the conquistadors surrounded by foes in a hostile labyrinth of a city. Such paranoia caused the Spaniards to start brainstorming ways to gain leverage over the Aztecs. They eventually decided upon a bold plan to take Montezuma hostage, yet they hesitated in carrying out their mission, presumably waiting for some affront to occur which would justify their action.

The spark that the Spaniards were waiting for did not occur in Tenochtitlan, but back at the Spanish colony of Veracruz. Hernán Cortés had founded the settlement before marching off to Tenochtitlan, and a certain Juan Escalante was deputized as the constable of the colony during Cortés’ absence.  While Cortés was doing his part in Tenochtitlan, Escalante was seeing to Spanish interests at the colony, which brought him into contact with a leader named Qualpopoca, who led an Aztec-aligned city that the Spaniards called Almeria. In the so-called Second Letter that Hernán Cortés sent back to his liege, Charles V, it was reported that Qualpopoca deceived Escalante into thinking that Almeria wanted to submit to Spanish rule. Four Spaniards from Veracruz were sent to Almeria to negotiate with Qualpopoca, but upon their arrival, the Veracruz diplomats were ambushed and two were killed. The surviving two fled back to Escalante, who immediately gathered forces to seek revenge. According to Cortés’ Second Letter, Escalante marched with a force of 40 or 50 conquistadors (aided by thousands of allied natives) against Almeria.

Escalante’s battle at Almeria is a difficult event to gauge. Hernán Cortés, in his Second Letter, downplayed the battle to his liege, telling Charles V that the campaign against Almeria was a straight-forward success, in which Escalante crushed Qualpopoca’s army, forced the enemy to abandon the city, and then burned Almeria to the ground. Bernal Díaz del Castillo, one of Cortés’ conquistadors, had a vastly different view of the battle, which he presented in his Conquest of New Spain. In total disagreement with Cortés, Bernal Díaz claimed that the battle at Almeria was a defeat and disaster suffered by the Spaniards. Far from a steamrolling of Qualpopoca’s forces, the clash at Almeria was apparently a brutal battle. According to Bernal Díaz, a great number of Escalante’s native allies died in the attack, and around 8 of the 40-50 Spaniards who participated in the attack died from wounds sustained at Almeria—Escalante, himself, was one of those who would succumb to his wounds. Furthermore, the conquistadors’ poor showing at the battle reportedly boosted morale of the Aztecs and demoralized the communities that had been working with Veracruz. To conclude his summary of the Battle at Almeria, Bernal Díaz wrote, “It was the first defeat we had suffered in New Spain, and misfortunes, as the reader will see, were now descending upon us” (Conquest of New Spain, chapter 93-94).

Although Cortés downplayed the events of Almeria in his letter to Charles V, his actions in Tenochtitlan when he learned of the battle show that his true impression of the attack was much more aligned with Bernal Díaz than the letter let on. News of Almeria and Escalante’s death spurred Cortés and the conquistadors in Tenochtitlan to launch their plot to take Montezuma hostage. They successfully kidnapped the Aztec leader, and one of the first demands they made of their royal captive was for Montezuma to summon to Tenochtitlan Qualpopoca and other chiefs involved in the Almeria incident. According to Cortés’ Second Letter, 17 chieftains answered Montezuma’s summons, including Qualpopoca and one of his sons. They apparently did not suspect that anything was amiss, for Qualpopoca entered the city leisurely, carried on a lordly litter. Their ignorance, however, did not last long—under pressure from his conquistador captors, Montezuma had the 17 military leaders arrested and handed them over to Cortés.

According to both Hernán Cortés and Bernal Díaz, the imprisoned chieftains were interrogated (and probably tortured), and the questions of the interrogators pried for information as to how involved Montezuma was in Qualpopoca’s hostile actions. The chieftains started out by acknowledging that they were loyal to the Aztec ruler, but also insisted that Montezuma was not directly involved in the Almeria attack. As the interrogation persisted, however, the chieftains began to change their story to implicate Montezuma more and more. Satisfied with their answers, Hernán Cortés was ready to pronounce the punishment for the leaders who had killed his friend, Escalante—it would be brutal.

When it came to punishing the leaders of the Almeria incident, Hernán Cortés did not simply want recompense or apology; instead, he wanted to take the opportunity to display his power and to instill terror on the city of Tenochtitlan. What Cortés did next apparently even caught Montezuma completely off guard, and he would react worse to this decision than he had to being kidnapped by the Spaniards. Bernal Díaz vividly described the fate of the 17 chieftains in his Conquest of New Spain:

 “Cortés sentenced the captains [of Almeria] to be burned to death before the royal palace. This sentence was immediately carried out and, to prevent any interference, Cortes had Montezuma put in chains while they were being burned. The prince roared with anger at this indignity, and became even more alarmed than before” (Conquest of New Spain, chapter 95).

Written by C. Keith Hansley

Picture Attribution: (The Torture of Cuahutemoc, painted in the late 19th-century by Leandro Izaguirre, [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:

• The Conquest of New Spain by Bernal Díaz, translated by J. M. Cohen. New York: Penguin Books, 1963.
• https://archive.org/details/lettersofcorts01cortuoft/page/240 
• https://www.gutenberg.org/files/32474/32474-h/32474-h.htm 
• https://www.britannica.com/biography/Montezuma-II 
• https://www.britannica.com/biography/Hernan-Cortes 
• https://www.ancient.eu/Montezuma/  

Golden Gambling Between Montezuma And Cortes

To the delight of Hernan Cortes and his Spanish conquistadors, Montezuma II of the Aztec Empire was an extremely generous gift-giver. He handed over treasures to the Spaniards nearly every time they interacted, be it delivered by messenger or bestowed in person. Whenever Montezuma, himself, hosted a meeting with the Spaniards, multiple golden or gilded objects almost always were handed over to the conquistadors at one point or another. Yet, sometimes Montezuma II made the Spaniards work harder than usual for their gilt gifts.

Hernan Cortes and his conquistadors entered Montezuma’s capital city of Tenochtitlan in late 1519 and stayed there for the opening months of 1520. During their stay in the Aztec capital, the Spaniards came to feel increasingly paranoid that Montezuma’s hospitality would one day cease and that he would have them arrested and executed. In order to save their skins from this potential danger, and to apply more leverage against the Aztec Empire, the Spaniards captured Montezuma and detained him in their Spanish quarters in Tenochtitlan. At first, they held the Aztec emperor on a short leash, but they eventually loosened their grip, letting Montezuma hold court and visit temples—all, however, under Spanish surveillance.

Early on in his captivity, Montezuma and Cortes were forced to live in the same compound together, and Montezuma apparently decided to kill time by playing games with Cortes and the Spaniards. Montezuma’s game of choice was variously called totoloque or totoloc, and in Montezuma’s typical fashion, the Aztec leader’s personal equipment set for this game was golden or gilded. It seemed to have been a gambling game, where the participants made bets and then each player had a certain number of turns to throw a ball or pellet at a designated target. Bernal Díaz del Castillo, one of Hernan Cortes’ conquistadors, described the game: “it is played with small round glossy balls, which here were made of gold, and are pitched at a certain mark, also of the same metal: five throws finished the game, and the stakes were for valuable gold trinkets and jewels” (Conquest of New Spain, chapter 97). Even if the Aztec leader won the game, Montezuma—either because of his generosity (or his being under arrest)—was said to have always given away his gambling winnings to the Spaniards. Despite this, Bernal Díaz claimed that Hernan Cortes’ score-keeper tried to pad Cortes’ stats, and Montezuma eventually called the man out for cheating.

Written by C. Keith Hansley

Picture Attribution: (Sketch of Cortes and Montezuma in the Historia de la Conquista de Méjico, c. 1851, [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:

• The Conquest of New Spain by Bernal Díaz, translated by J. M. Cohen. New York: Penguin Books, 1963.
• https://www.gutenberg.org/files/32474/32474-h/32474-h.htm 
• https://www.britannica.com/biography/Montezuma-II 
• https://www.britannica.com/biography/Hernan-Cortes  

The Winter Of The Living Dead In Lysufjord Greenland

Thorstein Eiriksson was reportedly the only child of Eirik the Red to never reach North America. Thorstein’s brother, Leif Eiriksson, was the first known European to set foot in North America, doing so around the year 999, and he named his site of disembarkation Vinland; Thorvald Eiriksson also journeyed to Vinland and died of an arrow wound there; their sister, Freydis Eiriksdottir, reportedly made her own trip (or possibly trips) to those distant shores and lived to tell the tale.  Although poor Thorstein was apparently the only child of Eirik the Red to not be a part of that exclusive Vinland club, perhaps he would be glad to know that oral history about his life was in no way boring, but instead produced an incredibly strange tale that surpassed the stories of all his kinsmen in weirdness. Thorstein makes an appearance in the Saga of the Greenlanders and Eirik the Red’s Saga, both dating from the 13th century and based on oral tradition in Greenland and Iceland. Although the two sagas focus on the discovery and the discoverers of North America, Thorstein Eiriksson features in one of the most striking scenes included in both sagas, even though he never saw or stepped on North American soil. Unfortunately for Thorstein, it was his own death scene. Or, as may be guessed from the title of this article—his undeath.

According to the oral history preserved in the Saga of the Greenlanders and Eirik the Red’s Saga, Thorstein Eiriksson attempted a journey to Vinland, but his crew got lost and had to turn back to Greenland before winter. He and his wife, Gudrid Thorbjarnardottir, ended up spending the winter in the region of Lysufjord, either because they owned property (probably undeveloped) in the area, or their ship was simply stranded there by the winter weather. Whatever the case, Thorstein and Gudrid attempted to ride out the winter in the home of a hospitable couple. The man of this host household was named Thorstein the Black, while his wife was given the name Grimhild (in the Saga of the Greenlanders) or Sigrid (in Eirik the Red’s Saga). Staying with this host family would turn out to be a horrible decision for Thorstein Eiriksson and Gudrid, as an outbreak of disease in Lysufjord coincided with the onset of winter, and such conditions led to the deaths of many in the region.

That winter, the illness and death of a certain foreman named Gardi heralded the beginning of an epidemic. Before long, many were bedridden by the illness, including the hostess (Grimhild or Sigrid) of the estate where Thorstein Eiriksson and Gudrid were staying. Eiriksson, too, eventually caught the disease and was restricted to a sickbed. With half of the household sick, Gudrid and the host carried out all the tasks that needed to be done—Gudrid cared for the sick, while Thorstein the Black kept his distance, often fishing or gathering resources that they would need to survive the winter.

Despite Gudrid’s best efforts, she could not prevent the illness from taking its course. The hostess of the household was the first to die. Her husband, Thorstein the Black, reportedly left the body alone with his guests while he went outside to gather planks for a coffin, and to finish other chores, such as fishing. While the host was absent, Thorstein Eiriksson and Gudrid were said to have witnessed something truly nightmarish. According to the folklore preserved in the Saga of the Greenlanders and Eirik the Red’s Saga, the corpse of Grimhild (or Sigrid) reanimated and became a draugr—a Norse zombie.

In the Saga of the Greenlanders, the draugr of the deceased woman posed little threat, and Thorstein Eiriksson, looking on from his sickbed, lightheartedly commented, “Strange are the actions of the mistress of the house now; she’s struggling to raise herself up on her elbow, stretching her feet out from the bedboards and feeling for her shoes” (chapter 5). In that particular telling of the tale, the zombie-mistress stopped moving as soon as Thorstein the Black returned to the home, his walking through the threshold of the house somehow ending her undeath. Eirik the Red’s Saga, however, presented a much more threatening, action-packed scene. In this alternative version of the story, poor Thorstein Eiriksson was again on his sickbed, looking at the body of Grimhild (or Sigrid), when the corpse reanimated and started to move. Whereas the previous story said that the draugr merely moved its limbs aimlessly, the story in Eirik the Red’s Saga instead claimed that the zombie was slowly and intimidatingly moving its way toward sick, immobilized Thorstein Eiriksson. He and his wife were so frightened that they could think of nothing better to do than shout for their host, who was somewhere outside. Thorstein the Black heard their call and came to the rescue, wielding an axe. According to Eirik the Red’s Saga, “When he entered she [the zombie] had reached the sideboards of the bed. He took hold of her and drove an axe into her breast” (chapter 6).

Not long after Grimhild or Sigrid’s death (and second death), Thorstein Eiriksson also succumbed to his illness. There must have been something special about that winter or that particular disease, for the body of Thorstein Eiriksson, too, was said to have reanimated as a zombie or draugr. Zombie-Thorstein was apparently a very polite, well-behaved creature, and therefore the axe-wielding host reportedly decided to let the creature live. In both sagas in which this tale occurs, the draugr merely wanted to speak to Gudrid. According to the Saga of the Greenlanders, the reanimated corpse of Thorstein foretold the future for Gudrid, whereas Eirik the Red’s Saga claimed that the zombie begged for his body to be brought to a church so that it could be properly buried by a priest. After delivering its message, zombie-Thorstein apparently collapsed to the ground, once again fully dead.

Written by C. Keith Hansley.

Picture Attribution: (Viking Age ship burning burial, drawn by Alexander Zick (1845–1907), [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:

• The Vinland Sagas (Saga of the Greenlanders and Eirik the Red’s Saga) translated by Keneva Kunz. New York: Penguin Classics, 2008.

Hernán Cortés’ Awkward Hug

On November 8, 1519, Hernán Cortés entered the Aztec capital, Tenochtitlan, a populous and bustling city, dominated by broad causeways and canoe-filled canals. The Aztec ruler, Montezuma II, managed his domain from the city, and various chieftains of the Aztec Empire gravitated there to attend the emperor’s court. As such, Tenochtitlan was a place of fashion, pageantry and courtly etiquette. Observing this political environment, Cortés wrote that the people of Tenochtitlan were “marked by as great an attention to the proprieties of life as in Spain, and good order is equally well observed” (Cortés’ Second Letter to Charles V).

Upon Cortés’ entry into the city, Montezuma II and his large entourage came out to greet the Spaniards. The Aztec emperor was carried to the spot on an ornate litter. When the litter came to a halt, a mobile canopy (decorated with feathers and precious metals) was prepared to shade Montezuma as he trekked on foot.  In addition to the elegant canopy, Montezuma’s every sandaled step was preempted by a cloak being ceremoniously laid before his path, so that the Aztec emperor’s footwear would not be dirtied by the earth.

As Cortés watched this pageantry, he must have known there would be—as with most monarchs—unspoken rules about how to act (or not act) when meeting with Montezuma. Unsurprisingly, these rules were still quite vague to Cortés and his fellow Spaniards when they had their first in-person meeting with Montezuma on November 8, 1519. Consequently, Hernán Cortés had a bit of a bumbling start in his navigation of Aztec pleasantries. Fortunately for him, Montezuma was apparently in a patient and forgiving mood, willing to overlook, or subtly correct, Cortés’ breaches of etiquette.

Hernán Cortés began with a safe bet—a deep and respectful bow. Montezuma approved this opener, and returned the bow in one way or another. Through interpreters, the two then exchanged greetings and wished each other good health. Next, Cortés reportedly made a slight misstep (or a bit of political gamesmanship) by taking the initiative to extend his hand to Montezuma. The Aztec emperor corrected the ceremony by waving off Cortés’ hand and then, more in keeping with propriety, held out his own hand for the Spaniard. Cortés soon presented a gift to Montezuma. It was a necklace of multi-colored elaborate beads, strung on a perfumed gold chain. The Aztec emperor graciously accepted the gift, and even let Cortés do the honor of placing the jewelry around the emperor’s royal neck.

Hernán Cortés succeeded in placing the necklace on Montezuma’s shoulders without causing any offense. Yet, right after bestowing this gift on the emperor, Cortés apparently tried to pull Montezuma into some kind of embrace. This move was too shocking a divergence from protocol for Montezuma’s relatives and guards to let occur, so they immediately sprang into action to save their liege from a perceived disgrace or embarrassment by blocking the Spaniard’s path and grasping hold of Cortés’ arms. With the hug thwarted, the ceremony returned to surer footing. The two leaders exchanged complimentary speeches, and, finally, Montezuma had the Spaniards shown to their lodgings.

Written by C. Keith Hansley

Picture Attribution: (Scene of Hernan Cortes and the Emperor of Mexico, painted by Carlos Esquivel y Rivas (1830–1867), [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:

• The Conquest of New Spain by Bernal Díaz, translated by J. M. Cohen. New York: Penguin Books, 1963.
• https://sourcebooks.fordham.edu/mod/1520cortes.asp 
• http://www.bbc.co.uk/history/historic_figures/cortes_hernan.shtml 
• https://www.history.com/topics/exploration/hernan-cortes 
•   https://www.britannica.com/biography/Hernan-Cortes 
• https://www.biography.com/explorer/hernan-cortes