Establishing places of enlistment throughout the island, Cortés roused to action his many friends, both in person and by letter. At principal settlements the expedition was proclaimed about the streets, in the king’s name, by the beating of drums and the voice of the crier. One third of the proceeds of the adventure was promised the soldiers and subalterns,
two thirds going to the outfitters.5
A banner of black taffeta was embroidered with the royal arms in gold, and blue and white flames surrounding a red cross, and round the border it bore the inscription, “Amici sequamur crucem, si nos habuerimus fidem in hoc signo vincemus.” Friends, let us follow the cross, and if we have faith under this sign we shall conquer.6
Assuming a dress and bearing more fitting a military commander, Cortés threw open his doors, and by judiciously combining the frank joviality of a soldier with the liberal hospitality of a man of wealth, he rapidly drew to his adventure all the available men of the island. There were not lacking those to sneer at this assumption of preëminence, which flaunted it so bravely with plume and medal, with martial music and retinue, saying, here was a lord without lands.7
But they little knew the strength and firmness of him who, having once put on the great man, would lay the livery down but with his life.
This soldierly display, always taking to the Castilian fancy, could scarcely be called affectation, for the genius which commands success was present, and the firmness of resolve was covered with such pleasing affability as to render its presence scarcely suspected.
With his
fine soldierly qualities were financial and executive ability, and fair common sense, a rare combination in a Spanish cavalier. While loving adventure he did not altogether hate ideas.