At the start of the 16th century the Spaniards
felt themselves to be on a roll. They had been fighting the Muslims
for almost 800 years, and had just recently seen their centuries of struggle
crowned with success. Political unity had been achieved and the new
nation had become a power to be reckoned with in Europe. And by the
grace of God they had been given these new territories to conquer and subdue,
an outlet for the restless energies of younger sons of the nobility, a
chance for commoners to make a life for themselves, and an arena for restless
soldiers to do something other than hanging around causing trouble at home.
All sorts of adventurers and ruffians made
their way to the settlements of the New World. But by 1510 or so, only
a few decades after the first landing of Columbus, they would have found
the Spanish settlements on the islands of Hispaniola, Jamaica, and Cuba
to be already set up, the land allocated, the ever-diminishing supply of
native laborers already assigned.. Newcomers would have to venture
farther afield if they were to have any chance to strike it rich.
So expeditions were outfitted for further
exploration. Almost all of the money was raised privately, the involvement
of the government being the licensing of the ventures, subject to the provisos
that twenty percent of the gross profit, and all of the land, should be
rendered to the Crown. Voyages were launched to the north and west,
two of them making landfall on the Yucatan peninsula.
The western tip of the island of Cuba lies
about 100 miles off the coast of Mexico. Cape Catoche can be reached
in a few days by canoe in good weather. It is unreasonable to assume
that there was no contact between the natives of the island and those of
the peninsula. So when the Spanish set up their operation in Cuba,
enslaving and massacring the locals, it is equally unreasonable to assume
that some of the Cuban natives did not escape to the mainland, whereby
the continentals were warned of the nasty and murderous habits of the newcomers.
The indigenes of the Caribbean islands had
been friendly folk who had welcomed the Spaniards and had been treated
essentially as raw material in return. Whether the inhabitants of
the Yucatan coast had been warned of Spanish habits or not is unknown,
but the explorers were certainly given a different reception on the mainland.
The first expedition, in 1517, was badly mauled and ran back to Cuba directly.
The second expedition ran into trouble as well, but managed to make some
peaceful contact, including representatives of the Aztec empire. Whenever
they talked they begged for gold like kids ask for soda pop, and they received,
in the end, a tantalizingly respectable haul. At Tabasco they were
told to proceed west, where there was plenty of the yellow metal.
The big stick was carried in Mexico of the
day by a military confederation led by the Aztecs, who held virtually all
of the central part of the modern nation in what was essentially bondage.
Yucatan was Maya territory, against whom the Aztecs strove in vain.
The Maya were immensely intent on doing what they wanted to do, and were
in fact the last to fall in Mexico against the onslaughts of the Europeans.
The Aztecs had a stone age technology, but
had evolved a culture as complexly urban as that of contemporary Western
Europe. There was a large, record keeping bureaucracy, public works,
a middle class of merchants, a feudally structured military system, a property
owning church. They didn't have wheels, or draft animals, or horses,
or war dogs, or guns, and the lack of these things spelled their doom.
But in what we call "high" culture, the arts that embellish our living,
they lacked nothing when placed beside any nation of their day.
We would find the Aztecs wholly sympathetic
and what the Spaniards did to them wholly abhorent were it not for one
curious fact that rather spoiled the picture. This was their enormous
appetite for human sacrifice. The practice had a long history in
Middle America, but for the Aztecs it had become a daily necessity.
The victims were occasionally their own children, even themselves, but
the vast bulk of the hundreds of thousands of sacrifices of the Aztec age
were war captives. Aztec soldiers went out every year to make war
across the borders, the object being prisoners to sacrifice. They
even kept a sort of pet independent enemy nearby, the so-called Republic
of Tlaxcala, to which they could conveniently repair if they were running
short.
Victims were also obtained by quota from subject
peoples, which of course created nothing but resentment, notwithstanding
similar practices by the subject peoples as well. It didn't soothe
anyone's feelings that after the temple got its heart parts of the body
got to be eaten by various people with connections. The Aztec empire
was held down by force alone.
Just a couple of hundred miles up the coast
from Mayan Tabasco was Aztec territory, and word was quickly sent to the
capital, Tenochtitlan, about the newcomers with the strange weapons, white
skins, and flowing beards, who held their own in battle against enormous
odds.
The Aztec king, Montezuma II, was a deeply
religious man, who felt his every move to be guided by the personal hand
of fate. He consulted oracles and astrologers constantly, was one
himself. He was well aware, in 1518, that the very next year had
been foretold in legend as that of the return of a god-king of yore, Quetzalcoatl,
the feathered serpent, a bearded, light-skinned cultural innovator, wise,
strong, and beneficent. The newcomers gave no indications of benificence,
but their weapons, which included firearms, certainly fit the bill as far
as innovation was concerned. Disturbed to the core, Montezuma reacted
with caution. He instructed his coastal vassals to receive the strangers,
should they appear, with courtesy and gifts of the gold they sought, but
under no circumstances to allow them to proceed inland towards the capital.
The Spaniards, nosing up the coast, came finally
within the borders of the Aztec empire. Stopping at an island, they found
a temple in which were the the dismembered torsos of five sacrificed men,
the first such they had seen. The island was otherwise deserted,
so they proceeded to the mainland, where the locals, following orders direct
from Tenochtitlan, gave the adventurers some gold. But the local
governors were not further forthcoming, and the Spaniards, after arguing
about whether to found a colony or not returned, to Cuba.
The gold gathered by the second expedition
turned out to be worth some $20,000, and caused quite a buzz on the island.
Another expedition was a foregone conclusion, and everyone watched to see
who would get to go.
A sharp smoothie of a landowner named Hernan
Cortes put together a consortium that raised much of the money for the
third expedition, of which the governor of Cuba was to be the major factor.
Cortes had left Spain after some minor scrapes with the law, and came to
Cuba without much of a grubstake, but had advanced himself by his witty
charm, and had obtained land and natives to work it for him. He and
the governor had been at serious odds not too long before, but all was
apparently smiles as the expedition began to come together.
For Cortes, this was the opportunity of his
life, and he acted in such a charismatically confident manner as to excite
to envy of the governor, who got cold feet at the last moment and issued
a directive stripping him of the command. This would have ruined
Cortes, who had backers to satisfy after all, and he shipped out the expedtion
at night before the governor's order could be delivered. He sailed
west along the Cuban coast, stopping twice for further provisioning. The
governor's men had preceded him each time, but Cortes won over the authorities
and got away. In all, some 500 men sailed west in eleven ships, well
armed with weapons that included cannon and arquebuses, as well as 16 horses
and a few of the giant Molossian hounds that had been used to deadly effect
in the conquest of the Caribs. Also on board were a few natives,
captured on the previous expeditions, to interpret.
The plan had been for the ships to meet off
the island of Cozumel and to proceed together, but the first group to arrive,
commanded by Pedro de Alvarado, ignored the orders and landed. The
first village they found was deserted, but in the second they found a few
chickens and some gold, which they proceeded to steal.
Cortez arrived soon after and chewed out Alvarado
for his impetuosity, explaining that if they started their expedition with
force that was all they would ever do. And indeed, in virtually every
encounter with opposing forces, Cortes asked for peaceful parley before
proceeding with mayhem. Messengers were sent out to the natives to
apologize, and the stolen goods were returned. Friendly relations
having been established, Cortes inquired as to the possibility that some
Spaniards, captured from the two previous expeditions, might still be alive.
He was informed that some were being kept as slaves a few days march inland.
Messengers were sent bearing a ransom for these men, should they be found.
Two men were located, and one returned, but the other declared himself
content where he was and refused to be repatriated.
The party then left Cozumel and proceeded
westward along the coast. At Tabasco they were met by several thousand
armed natives. Cortes sent out a parley, which failed. Figuring
that if they gave up and went away that would set a bad precedent, he set
up the expedition for defense and spent the rest of the day on intelligence.
Next morning the Spaniards attacked the town. After hard fighting the guns
carried the battle, and that same day the first territory of the American
continent was claimed for the Spanish crown.
Now in possession of a fortified town, Cortes
sent scouting parties to explore the neighborhood. One immediately
ran into trouble and had to be rescued, and the next day brought word of
the approach of more thousands of native warriors on the way, looking for
fun.
At every turn in his great venture Cortes,
if offered the occasion for a fight, took it, while never offering mayhem
gratuitously. The Spaniards marched out to meet the throngs, and
once again carried the day, this time with the aid of their secret weapon,
the horse, a brand new terror to the natives.
Messengers were sent asking for parley, and
after a few days the chiefs showed up. Presents were exchanged and face
to face negotiations were begun. Among the gifts received by the
Spaniards were 20 native women, one of whom turned out to be of crucial
importance in the events of the Conquest. This was Dona Marina, an
Aztec princess who had been sold into slavery in a family property grab,
and who served as interpreter during the crucial negotiations with Montezuma.
Cortes asked them to become Christians and subjects of Spain, and they
consented to do so. A few days later the Spaniards sailed off to
the west.
At their next landfall they were met by envoys
of Montezuma, who gave them rich presents and asked them to leave.
Cortez thanked them politely and sent back some presents in return, asking
once again for an interview. Several further embassies followed,
with no result. At one point Cortes brought up the subject of religion,
and the possibility of conversion. The ambassadors became distinctly
unfriendly, and shortly after food supplies, donated by the Aztecs, ceased.
Next, a party of messengers came to the Spanish
camp and told Cortes that they were Totonacs, unhappy subjects of the Aztec
empire, and perhaps the newcomers could help them? This was music
to the ears of Cortes, but there was dissension in the camp that required
his attention, with a faction looking at a countryside filled with hundreds
of thousands of potential enemies and wanting to return to Cuba immediately,
and another that wanted to found a colony and continue the adventure.
After a few days of politicing, the venturers won out, and a colony was
proclaimed on the site of modern-day Vera Cruz.
A Spanish style town was constructed and garrisoned.
Then the main party marched off to visit the discontented Totonacs, arriving
after a few days at the large town of Zempoala. As the chief was
recounting his tale of woe at the hands of the arrogant and bloodthirsty
Aztecs, the local assessors appeared. In high dudgeon, these reprimanded
the chief for contacting the foreigners without permission, and levied
a fine of sacrificial victims.
Cortes jumped into the situation, declaring that
his lord the king had commanded him to end human sacrifice in this land,
and that he would not permit the Aztec officials to continue. He
convinced the Totonacs to sieze the oppressors. There and then the
Totonac nation of some hundreds of thousands repudiated the Aztecs and
went with the Spaniards. That very evening Cortes contrived at the escape
of some of the Aztec prisoners, whom he treated kindly and sent back to
Montezuma with news of his approach toward Mexico.
The Aztec king, meanwhile had experienced in short
order the fury of finding one of his provinces suborned by the foreigners
to finding himself owing them for arranging the release of his agents.
He sent back word to Cortes that it seemed as if the Spaniards were the
people whose return had been prophesied to rule Mexico, and if that was
the case, why didn't he send the proofs and stop upsetting the realm?
Cortes responded that none of the trouble
was his fault, he was sorry that the Aztec house was not in order, and
that he was on his way to see him. He then convinced his army to
relinquish all the gold they held, and sent it back to Spain as a gift
to the crown. Once again he had to suppress the "Let's Go Home" faction,
and this time he felt it reasonable to dismantle the boats to enforce his
will. The expedition then proceeded inland toward Mexico. As
they went they found more malcontents to take their side, enlisting the
ancient enemies of the Aztecs, the Tlaxcalans, in the crusade. In
one amazing incident after another the Spaniards and their native allies
battled their way towards the seat of Aztec power, Tenochtitlan, the city
on the lake.
During his progress Cortes was continually
exchanging messages with Montezuma, who kept telling him not to come closer.
It didn't matter what the Aztec sovereign did, nothing seemed able to stop
the little group of foreigners. Montezuma became convinced that he
was up against the divine forces of fate, and when, finally, the bearded
foreigners finally stood at his city he resolved to, well, actually he
didn't know what to do. So he went out to meet them himself, and
conducted them into his palace as his guests.
It was an absurd situation. Tenochtitlan
and its suburbs may have been home to as many as a million people.
There may have been hundreds of thousands of warriors nearby. The
city was built on water, accessible only by causeways. In military
terms it was nothing more than a giant prison. What would you have
done? The Spaniards entered on the strength of their faith alone.
Cortes and Montezuma negotiated while the
bustling life of the capital went on as usual. Cortes wanted lots of gold.
No problem, said Montezuma. There was plenty, pretty stuff, but not
good for much other than jewelry. He also wanted the Aztecs to abandon
their bloody religion and become Christianis. Not possible, said
Montezuma, let's talk about something else. So things continued.
The soldiers discovered a walled up door,
which they broke open, to find a large storeroom filled with golden objects
gathered by Montezuma's grandfather. When the Aztec king found out
about it he gave the gold to Cortes, who had it melted down into bars.
A partial and very unfair distribution of the spoils resulted in circulation
of bits and ingots of gold among the soldiers in the compound, some of
whom were gambling to while away the time. This was the first incident
of western style monetary usage on the American mainland.
Montezuma felt himself more and more the pawn
of history. His advisors were telling him to get rid of these foreigners,
but he continued to temporize. The Spaniards, for their part, were
growing restless. The delicacy of their situation weighed on them.
As the tension mounted they hit on a novel tactic: they would take the
monarch himself hostage against their safety.
This they did. The Aztec officials were
amazed when Montezuma became a willing captive of the Spaniards.
They were sure he had been bewitched. In succeeding weeks Cortes
began to more and more influence Aztec policy, causing ever increasing
disaffection among the ruling class of Tenochtitlan. Montezuma became
a Spanish puppet, eventually summoning his nobles and announcing his new
fealty to the Spanish king.
Shortly thereafter, an expedition from Cuba
landed at Vera Cruz, intent on dismantling the work done so far.
Cortes set off to deal with the situation, leaving Pedro de Alvarado in
charge of the capital. At one of their big religious festivals, with
thousands of armed warriors dancing, Alvarado lost his nerve and ordered
what he considered to be a preemptive attack. The wierd peace that
had been sulking around the capital immediately vanished, and the Spaniards
were forced to barricade themselves in their compound with their royal
hostage.
Montezuma still had some shreds of authority,
and sent word out to Cortes complaining of what happened. Cortes
returned, but it was too late. The Aztecs deposed Montezuma as king
and stoned him to death when he appealed to them to remain calm.
The Spaniards had to fight their way out of Tenochtitlan, taking heavy
casualties on the "Noche Triste," July 10, 1520. Some of Montezuma's
gold came out with them, but much was left behind, and more lost in the
flight.
The survivors regrouped and fought their way
back to the friendly territory of Tlaxcala. Plans were immediately
drawn up to isolate the Aztecs in their valley in advance of a siege of
Tenochtitlan itself. Why go back? God will provide. Over
the next year the noose was tightened. Boats were built, and when a Spanish
beachhead was established at Texcoco they were assembled on the lake.
The fresh water supply from Chapultepec was cut, and the city invested.
After several months of desperate fighting most of the city was destroyed,
and on August 13, 1521 the last Aztec king, Cuauhtemoc, was captured as
he attempted to flee his ruined city.
Cortes was now master of New Spain.
His immediate problems were the foundation of the new colony and
the disposal of the vast store of booty that had come to him. As
far as administration, he used the Aztec functionaries already at their
posts, and the construction of the new Mexico City on the ruins of Tenochtitlan
was immediately begun by the natives under Spanish direction.
The division of the spoils went badly.
Every time Cortes had made a distribution there had been fraud, not against
the crown, but against the participants themselves, in unequal measure
according to their lack of influence. The same thing happened this
time. Everyone was unhappy with what he got, and no satisfaction
was to be obtained from Cortes. The first load of the royal fifth
was packed off, but never reached Spain, being seized by a French privateer
en route.
The gold that was distributed was spent in
business and pleasure by the soldiers. Having previous to the conquest
been merely an item of commerce, it became a standard of value, rated against
the coin of the realm, the cacao bean. In the earliest days the circulation
was completely polyglot, with all kinds of gold objects of any degree of
purity passing back and forth. Fraudulent debasement was a regular
practice among both conquerors and natives. Cortes actually tried
to regulate the debasement by the curious expedient of requiring circulating
ingots to be rated at a higher fineness than they were known to be.
In 1526 the City Council in Mexico resolved
that people should be allowed to bring their gold to the Royal Assayor
to be stamped with its fineness. These items, called peso de oro
ensayado, circulated well into the 17th century, alongside the well
known silver cobs.
Generally speaking, a given bar of gold would
be given official stamps at the ends. Circulating gold was supposed to
have the proper stamps on it. Suppose you need to make change?
You get out your cleaver and hack an end off your bar, giving you a "cabo
de barra" to spend, and the term has been corrupted through the centuries
into our numismatic term "cob." If the bar is legal, the bit you
cut will have part of the official mark on it, so you won't be asked for
your license when you spend it.
Pradeau, the wonderful author of the Numismatic
History of Mexico, wrote in 1938 that no specimen of this so-called "tepuzque"
gold bullion money was known to exist. But this late 20th century
is the golden age of salvage, and many new things have been brought to
light in recent years. The Spaniards sent enormous quantities of
their beloved gold and silver home each year, to be wasted on extravagant
luxury and useless wars, and an amazing amount sank, to be recovered by
us scavengers with our wonderful technology. There are large Spanish
silver ingots lying around in vaults with no one to buy them. Gold
bars have been showing up as well, but until very recently nothing had
been seen quite as interesting as this piece.
The item was shown to me by Louis Hudson.
It is 23.8 grams, and has obviously been cut off the end of a bar.
The Roman numerals XV and the three dots indicate 15.75 carat fineness.
The crowned C must refer to Charles I of Spain, who else? The item
was recovered off Grand Bahama in 1992, from the wreck of the Tumbaga.
About ten other gold pieces were found with it. Many were not marked
at all, but some were reported to bear bear assay marks indicating fineness
as low as 9 carats.
Pradeau mentioned a 1528 statute requiring
the re-assaying and stamping of circulating gold with the weight and fineness
along with the royal arms and the motto PLUS ULTRA. This piece, then,
would be legal according to the 1526 statute, but not that of 1528.
It can be nothing other than an example of the first gold coinage of the
Americas. Under the royal stamps is Montezuma's treasure.