steed, a heavenly horseman appeared, and from a slight eminence overlooking the bloody field he frowned confusion on the foe. The heathen warriors were stricken powerless, enabling the Spaniards to form anew; but when the horseman vanished, the Indians rallied. Thrice, with the same effect, the awful apparition came and went.31 Then there were horsemen indeed, more real to the Spaniards, but none the less spectral to the Indians. They had been detained by the marshes intervening; and now, with swords and helmets glittering, they rose in the enemy’s rear, and midst clang of arms and shouts of Santiago y San Pedro, they threw themselves with terrible effect upon him. What could the Indians do? Those that were not trampled or cut to death turned and fled, and the Spaniards possessed the field. “And this was the first preaching of the gospel in New Spain, by Cortés,” remarks the caustic Las Casas.32
The Spaniards drew up at a grove to return thanks for this great victory. A large number of the enemy were slain. Sixty of their own number were wounded, and two lay dead; eight horses had been scratched, and their wounds were cauterized and anointed with the fat of dead Indians.33 On returning to camp two of five captives, leading men, were sent with presents to the cacique to represent the danger of further hostility, and to propose a council of peace. Tabasco was very ready to lay down arms, and he sent a propitiatory offering of fowl, fried fish, and maize bread by messengers with blackened faces and dressed in rags. Cortés answered with a reprimand, “Tell your master, if he desires peace he must sue for it, and not send slaves.” Tabasco hastened to comply, and sent immediately to Cortés an embassy of forty chiefs, richly clad and walking in stately procession, followed by a file of slaves bearing presents. Low bowing before the bearded assembly, and swinging before them the censer in token of reverence, the ambassador implored pardon, and proffered