CHOLULA THE SACRED
The gates closed behind them. Then the Spanish general, summoning the chiefs to approach him, told them sternly that he had discovered all their treachery. If they had intended to attack their guests, why had they not done it openly, he asked, as had the Tlascalans? Such crimes could not be suffered to pass unpunished.
Suddenly a musket-shot rang out, and at the signal the Spaniards opened a deadly fire on the Cholulans, who were so closely crowded together that they had no room to fight. To escape was impossible, and the struggle soon degenerated into a massacre. In vain the warriors in the city rushed to rescue their countrymen, and hurled themselves against the mail-clad foes who guarded the gates with their terrible cannon. And now the Tlascalans fell fiercely on their rear, and caught thus between two fires the rescuers broke and fled. Some of them made for the temple of Quetzalcoatl, for had not the Fair God promised that if in time of dire necessity they dragged down his walls a deluge would flow thence to overwhelm their enemies? Many with bare hands tore at the stones, but, alas! no miracle rewarded their frenzied efforts, no vengeful flood gushed forth, showers of crumbling brick-dust alone mocked their faith. In the towers of the temple they sought refuge, only to perish miserably in the flames of the wooden structures fired by the Spaniards.
It was a scene of horrid carnage. "We slew many of them," says Bernal Diaz, "and others were burnt alive; so little did the promises of their false gods avail them."
