Totonac allies. To this end let levies be made of men and money on a long-suffering people, whose murmurs shall be drowned in the groans of fresh victims on the sacrificial altar of the war god.3
See now how powerfully had wagged that little forked tongue of Cortés! See how those gentle whisperings that night at Quiahuiztlan, those soft
dissemblings breathed into the ears of two poor captives—see how they shot forth like winged swords to stop an army on the point of marching to its slaughters! Here, as in scores of other instances, Cortés’ shrewdness saved him from disaster.
For in the midst of the warlike preparations arrived the two released collectors, and their presentation of the magnanimity of the white chief, of his friendly conduct and warm assurances, materially changed the aspect of affairs. There was no alliance; there was no rebellion; the Totonacs dared not rebel without foreign support; with them Montezuma would settle presently. And with no little alacrity did he countermand the order for troops, and send an embassy to Cortés. Thus through the vacillating policy which now possessed the Mexican monarch was lost the opportunity to strike the enemy perhaps a fatal blow; and thus by that far off impalpable breath was fought and won another battle, this time vanquishing the king of kings himself, with his hundred thousand men.
The embassy sent comprised two of Montezuma’s nephews,4 accompanied by four old and honorable caciques. They were to express the monarch’s thanks to the Spaniards, and to remonstrate against the revolt encouraged by their presence. He had become assured that they were of the race predicted by his forefathers, and consequently of his own lineage; out of regard for them, as guests of the revolted people, he would withhold present chastisement. A gift of robes and feather-work, and gold worth two thousand castellanos, accompanied the message.5