The History of the Conquest of New Spain , by Bernal Díaz del Castillo.
Or, actually, the good bits, that is chapters 19-157 which cover 1519 to 1521 and the conquest of the Aztec empire.
The story is of course fascinating, and Diaz is a masterful storyteller. The tension and suspense while the Spaniards journey to Mexico is extremely well-done. I found myself really looking forward to meeting 'The Great Montezuma', as he calls him.
La Noche Triste and the siege of Tenochtitlan are incredibly told. George R.R. Martin, eat your heart out. You really do feel the horror of standing, defeated, on the shores of Lake Texcoco as the drums roll, the Mexica sound the horns and Diaz sees what happens of his comrades on the Templo Mayor...
You also get the full horrific experience of walking through the streets of Tenochtitlan after the siege.
Still, the book is a little hard to like at times, for a very simple reason: the past really is a foreign country. It's almost impossible to relate to the conquistadors. They're mostly greedy, dull and cowardly, constantly infighting, bickering, raping everything in sight, obsessed with petty grievances and pretty much uninterested in anything that isn't gold and can't be enslaved. The same applies to Bernal, indifferent to native civilization, and obsessed about his diseases, his wounds, and his love-hate relationship with Cortés.
Cortés is an interesting character: he's the only Spaniard with any brains, charismatic and fairly sympathetic. He's also a pirate and a con artist. He sets off from Cuba on an unauthorized expedition, and manages to get rid of the guy sent to get him back; he manages to manipulate his troops into fighting in an incredibly desperate enterprise and cheats them of most, if not all, of the profits and glory (though they
are pretty dim).
A telling statistic: of the five hundred that fought with Cortés, only five are still alive by the time Díaz writes his chronicle. Most of them died in battle or were sacrificed; most of the rest of 'buboes' (smallpox? syphillis?).
If Díaz was any way awed by being in the New Word, or interested in any way by encountering an unknown civilization, he does his best to hide it. but once the Mexican natives start fighting back, though, he starts talking of them with a lot of respect. Díaz is a military man. and you really get the importance of logistics. At all points in the story he's careful to say where the food comes from; he also spends a whole chapter talking about pigs.
Guns and horses were important, but not as much as you'd expect. Horses are really expensive, and not really useful: most of the terrain is either mountainous or swampy. They're useful for an initial scare, and then the bulk of the work is done with crossbows and swords.
Perhaps the real advantage the West had is that we've been taking over entire civilizations for millenia. Cortés' strategy is right out of Julius Caesar: use a marginal advantage to scare a city, then offer peace and 'forgiveness', and point out the advantages of an alliance. That way he manages to rally pretty much everyone around against the Mexica.
No forced conversions yet. The conquistadors try it early on; the priests they brought along point out that it's best to wait until the locals come around.
To the Spaniards, 'Huichilobos and Tezcatepeca' (Huitzilopochtli and Tezcatlipoca) are very, very real. They're demons, and fortunately mostly intent on tricking the Mexica. Attemps to get rid of 'idol worship' progress from zealous to half-assed. Realpolitik.
Montezuma is a fascinating character. The Spaniards take a liking to him almost instantly; he's a top-notch politician and smarter than all of the conquistadors by a great deal. He figures out quickly who's who among the Spanish, and it's pretty clear he had a plan. Too bad we'll never find out what it was.
He's a prisoner, though the Spaniards can't really enforce the hostage situation (they're right in the middle of one of the largest cities in the World, with only three roads to escape, and surrounded by very, very angry Mexica). At one point, he goes out, and performs himself a few human sacrifices (one of his many duties). Cortés is naturally horrified, but he can't do anything about it. At some point, a priest in the party suggests building a chapel to the Virgin Mary on the Templo Mayor (I don't get the logic here, but OK). The request is denied, of course.
Ultimately, the situation is untenable. Various relatives of Montezuma kick out the Spaniards out of Tenochtitlan; Montezuma himself is killed in a riot.
Well, I've been rambling for way too long. Let's wrap this up
The human sacrifices are horrifying, but Cortés' allies are in it for the blood, too, to which he turns a blind eye. The conquistadors don't sacrifice anyone of course, but they seem intent on raping all the women. Díaz mentions capturing 'Indian women' casually, when you try to make a count it gets pretty dizzying.
A few surprises:
- The Mexica are judged with respect, and as honorable enemies, not as inferiors. Well, at least the upper class.
- The conquistadors eat a lot of dog ( a staple meat in Mesoamerica). This is treated as completely natural.
- It seems at the end of the campaign, the conquistadors had learned a little Nahuatl, but everything still went through translators: Aguilar and La Malinche, a native woman.
- We don't get to see much of La Malinche, though, except that we're told she's a very noble lady, in all senses. I do wonder if she wasn't the brains of the outfit.