By Right of Conquest; Or, With Cortez in Mexico by G. A. Henty (color ebook reader TXT) 📗

of larger size than any he had seen piled in the batteries of Plymouth, and of a white color. Then the thought struck him they were great turnips, or some such root, which might be held sacred to the god. But as he entered the building the truth flashed across him--the great pile was composed entirely of human skulls.

Roger had made up his mind that, although he would not give way in the slightest in the matter of his faith, he would yet abstain from shocking the religious feeling of the natives. After the first involuntary start at the discovery, he silenced his feelings, and asked how many skulls there were in the heap. He could not, however, understand the reply, as he had not yet mastered the Aztec method of enumeration, which was a very complicated one.

Roger walked along one side of the pile, counted the number of skulls in a line, and the number of rows, and then tried to reckon how many skulls there were. Roger was not quick at figures, although his father had tried hard to teach him to calculate rapidly, as it was necessary for one who traded, and bought and sold goods of all descriptions, to be able to keep his own figures; or he would otherwise be forced always to carry a supercargo, as was indeed the custom in almost all trading ships, for there were few masters who could read and write, far less keep accounts. However, as he found there were a hundred skulls in each line, and ten rows, and as the heap was nearly square, it was not a difficult task to arrive at the conclusion that there must be a hundred thousand skulls in the pile.

This seemed to him beyond belief, and yet he could arrive at no other conclusion. If a hundred thousand victims had been offered up, in one temple of this comparatively small city, what must be the total of men killed throughout the country? The pile had, no doubt, been a long time in growing, perhaps a hundred years; but even then it would give a thousand victims, yearly, in this one temple.

Although it seemed well-nigh impossible to Roger, it was yet by no means excessive, for according to the accounts of all historians, Mexican and Spanish, the number of victims slain, annually, on the altars of Mexico amounted to from twenty-five to fifty thousand.

"The god has good reason to be pleased?" the Aztec ambassador, who was watching Roger's face closely, remarked.

"If he is fond of blood and sacrifices, he should indeed be pleased," Roger said quietly; "but all gods do not love slaughter. Quetzalcoatl, your god of the air, he who loved men and taught them what they know--such a god would abhor sacrifices of blood. Offerings of fruit and flowers, which he taught men to grow, of the arts in which he instructed them, would be vastly more pleasing to him than human victims."

Roger spoke in a tone of authority, as if he were sure of what he stated.

"When the white god left your shores, there were no human sacrifices offered to the gods"--this fact Roger had learned from Malinche, who had told him that the custom had been introduced in comparatively late years. She said ten generations, which he supposed would mean about two hundred years--"and such a custom would be abhorrent to him."

The Aztec governor looked very grave. It was to the god of war that these sacrifices were offered, but the idea that the kindly white god, who stood next to him in public estimation, might not only object to be so worshiped himself, but might object altogether to human sacrifices being offered, was unpleasant to him; and yet this white stranger clearly spoke as if he were acquainted with the mind of Quetzalcoatl.

The Tezcucan envoys, on the other hand, looked pleased. Tezcuco had maintained for a long time a milder form of worship. Her people were more gentle than the Aztecs, and had only reluctantly, and in part, adopted the terrible rites of their formidable neighbors.

"Will you ascend the temple?" the governor asked.

"No," Roger said firmly. "I say not aught against the god of battles. Let those who will make offerings to him. The God of the Air," and Roger raised his hand towards the sky, "loves flowers and fruit and peace and goodwill. When He came down to earth He preached peace, and would have had all men as brothers; and I, who follow Him, will not bow down at altars where human beings have been sacrificed."

The Mexican naturally thought that Roger was speaking of Quetzalcoatl, and this strange knowledge he possessed of the god, and his ways and wishes, struck him with deep awe. Without making any further attempt to induce him to ascend the teocalli, which was the name they gave to their pyramidal temples, the governor led the way back to the palace.

The next morning Roger started with the Tezcucan envoys on his journey. They informed him on the way that the Aztec governor had, on the previous evening, dispatched an officer of high rank to Mexico, to give the emperor the full details of the conversation and sayings of the strange visitor; for the dispatches were available only for sending news of facts and occurrences, but could not be used as mediums for conveying thought.

"Montezuma is mild and gentle in his disposition, and quite unlike his two predecessors, who were mighty warriors; and doubtless, in his heart, he will welcome the words you said yesterday concerning Quetzalcoatl. But he is swayed wholly by the priests, and such sentiments will not be agreeable to them, for sacrifices are forever going on at the teocalli. At the dedication of the great temple for Huitzilopotchli, just thirty years ago, seventy thousand captives were put to death."

"They must have been miserable creatures," Roger said indignantly, "to have submitted tamely to such a fate. They might, at least, have rushed upon their guards, however numerous, and died fighting."

Roger said little more during that day's journey. The admiration he had at first felt, for the arts and civilization of these people, had been succeeded by a feeling of abhorrence. He had heard, from Malinche, that all victims sacrificed to the gods were afterwards cooked and eaten; and although he had scarcely believed the girl, in spite of her solemn assurances, he could now, after seeing the vast pile of human skulls, quite believe that it was true.

Chapter 8: At Tezcuco.

In each city through which they passed, and several of these were of vastly greater size and importance than Tepeaca, Roger was received with the same welcome and rejoicings that had greeted him there. The houses were decorated with flowers and garlands, dense crowds lined the streets, processions came out to meet him; banquets were given in his honor, and everything seemed gay and joyous. But Roger was low and depressed. To him the whole thing appeared a mockery. He seemed to see blood everywhere, and the fact that, as he learned from the casual remark of one of the envoys, numbers of victims were offered upon the altars on the evening before his arrival at each town, in order to please the gods and bring about favorable omens, added to his depression; and he thought that he had better, a thousand times, have been drowned with his father and friends, than be the cause of men being thus put to death.

It was true that, as he was told, these captives were reserved for this purpose, and had they not been slain on that night might have been sacrificed on the next; but this was a small consolation. It seemed to him that above the joyful cries of greeting he could hear the screams of agony of the victims, and to such a pitch was he wrought up that, had he seen any whom he could have recognized as priests, he would have fallen upon them with his sword.

But the priests held aloof from the gatherings. They knew not, as yet, how their chiefs would regard this stranger, and it was not their policy to join in welcoming one who might, afterwards, be denounced and sacrificed as an enemy of their religion; nor, upon the other hand, would they commit themselves to hostility to one who might be held to be a god.

From the summits of the teocallis they looked down upon the great gatherings; angry that instead of, as usual, figuring in the chief places in the procession, they were forced to stand aloof. As in Egypt, the Aztec priests embraced within their order all the science and learning of the nation. They were skilled in the sciences of astrology and divination, and were divided into numerous ranks and classes. Those best instructed in music took the management of the choirs, others arranged the festivals conformably to the calendar, some superintended the education of the young of both sexes, others had charge of the hieroglyphic paintings and records and of the oral traditions, while the rites of sacrifice were practiced by the chief dignitaries of the order. They were each devoted to the service of some particular deity, and had quarters provided within the spacious precincts of his temple.

Here a certain number were always on duty, and men living there practiced the stern severity of conventual discipline. Thrice during the day, and once at night, they were called to prayers. They mortified the flesh by fasting and cruel penance, drawing blood from their bodies by flagellation or by piercing themselves with the thorns of the aloe. When their turn of duty was over, they resided with their wives and families outside the temples.

The great cities were divided into districts, placed under the charge of a sort of parochial clergy. These administered the rites of baptism, confession, and absolution, each of which strongly resembled that of the Christian religion. In baptism the lips and bosom of the infant were sprinkled with water, and the Lord was implored to permit the holy drops to wash away the sin that was given to it, before the foundation of the world, so that the child might be born anew. The secrets of confession were held inviolable, and penances were laid upon the penitents. There was one peculiarity in the Aztec ceremony of confession--namely, that the repetition of an offense, once atoned for, was deemed inexpiable--and confession was therefore made but once in a man's life, and generally deferred until a late period of it.

One of the most important duties of the priesthood was that of education, to which certain buildings were appropriated, within the enclosure of the principal temple of each city. Here the youth of both sexes, of the middle and higher classes, were placed when very young; the girls being entrusted to the care of priestesses, for women exercised all sacerdotal functions except those of sacrifice. In these institutions the boys were drilled in monastic discipline. They decorated the shrines of the gods with flowers, fed the sacred fires, and took part in the religious chants and festivals. Those in the higher schools were initiated in the traditionary law, the mysteries of hieroglyphics, the principles of government, and in astronomical and natural science. The girls were instructed in all feminine employments, especially in weaving and embroidery. The discipline, both in male and female schools, was stern and rigid.

The temples were supported by the revenue from lands bestowed upon them by successive princes. These were managed by the priests, who were considered as excellent masters, treating their tenants with liberality and indulgence. Besides this they were entitled to the first fruits of all produce, and were constantly receiving rich offerings from the pious. The surplus, beyond what was required for the support of the priests, was distributed in alms among the poor, charity being strongly prescribed by the moral code of the nation.

Thus the Aztec religion was a strange mixture of good and evil. The moral discipline enforced by it was excellent. Many of its precepts resembled very closely those of Christianity, and yet the whole was contaminated by the wholesale sacrifices. It is supposed that this dual religion was the result of the mixture of two peoples, the mild and gentle tenets of the Toltecs being adopted by the fierce Aztec invaders, who added to them their own superstitious and bloody rites.

All this, however, was unknown to Roger at the time. He saw the dark side of their religion, only, and was ignorant that there underlay it a system which, in point of morality, love of order and method, and a broad charity, was in no way inferior to that practiced among Christian nations.

For some reason, of which Roger was ignorant--but which was, doubtless, in order to avoid the delays occasioned by stoppages at large towns, and to push on the faster towards the capital, where the king and his counselors were impatient to behold the white stranger--a detour was made. The towns of Puebla and Cholula were avoided, and the party pushed on rapidly across the plateau land they were now