efforts to cut off his retreat. There they would intrench themselves while awaiting aid from the islands and arranging a fresh campaign, having the vessels to fall back on, if necessary. But to these intimations Cortés would not for a moment listen. And there were many reasons for this—his ambition to be all or nothing in this enterprise, his crimes against Velazquez, his irregularities regarding the king’s interests, which only brilliant success could redeem. As well might they talk to the unyielding hills; he would join his dead comrades in the canals of Mexico, or voluntarily ascend to the sacrificial stone, but he would not turn back from this adventure.
When the general revealed his firm intention to renew the campaign as soon as possible, the outcry became loud. The Noche Triste and the narrow escape at Otumba had left impressions too horrible to be easily forgotten. They shuddered at the thought of renewing such risk, and cursed the gold which had allured them to former discomfitures. If the general wished to throw away his life he might do so, but they were not such madmen. Moreover, it was highly imprudent to place so much faith in the Tlascaltecs, who might at the first encounter with the enemy abandon or betray allies differing so greatly in language, religion, and customs. A formal demand was therefore addressed to him, through the notary, to return to Villa Rica, on the ground of their small number and dismembered condition, devoid as they were of clothing, arms, ammunition, and horses, and with so many maimed and wounded. They were wholly unfit to undertake any campaign, much less against an enemy who had just defeated them when they were far stronger in number and armament than now. Declared, as it was, in the name of the army, though in truth by the men of Narvaez only,20 and headed by such persons as Duero, with invocation