pleading that the proximity of Xicotencatl’s army had prevented them from sending in their submission. They would henceforth prove their gratitude for his leniency by sending supplies to the camp. Cortés accepted their excuses, and told them to proceed to Tlascala to urge upon the lords the necessity for accepting peace. Before returning, Cortés ascended a hill, and thence saw the capital, with its surrounding villages. “Behold,” he said to those who had objected to his leniency with the towns, “what boots it to have killed these people, when so many enemies exist over there?”12
Although left in comparative peace for some days, the end of the campaign seemed to the Spaniards as remote as ever. The harass and hardship of their life, the vigils, the cold nights, the scanty supplies, the absence of salt, medicine, and many other necessaries, all this was severely felt, particularly since so large a number were either sick or wounded, including Cortés and Padre Olmedo.13 The ailments and wounds were as a rule slight, yet they helped to magnify dangers, and to dim every cheerful aspect. The very cessation of regular hostile demonstrations
seemed to cover a plot for a new Tlascalan combination. If this people could exhibit such armies and such valor, what must be expected from the far more numerous and equally warlike Aztecs? These views owed not a little of their acceptance to the fears and exaggeration of the Indian allies, and through their medium the prospect of reaching the impregnable Mexico began to appear preposterous. Cortés was aware that this feeling existed among a large number, for in making his customary tour of the camp one evening he had overheard a party of soldiers express themselves pretty strongly about the madness of his enterprise. It would happen to him as to Pedro Carbonero, who ventured with his force among the Moors and was never heard of again. The general should be left to go alone.