Spaniards the people of the Mexican valley, and their sovereign in particular, were profoundly moved with fearful forebodings of calamity of some kind. And whether these forebodings pointed to some strange arrival by sea or other marvel, certain it is that they opened the door of this rich realm to the invaders.
Ever intent on means to propitiate the gods, Montezuma in 1517 hit upon the idea of plating the temple of Huitzilopochtli with gold set with precious stones and feathers, and gave the order accordingly to Tzompantzin, the minister of finance. Now Tzompanztin was an old and faithful servant of the government, blunt withal, and nowise afraid to die. He was of the ancient chivalry, not wholly in sympathy with the present régime, and did not hesitate to expostulate with his sovereign, saying that the people would be ruined by the proposed tax. "Beside," he concluded, "Huitzilopochtli will not long be god, for those even now are coming who will take for themselves all these riches and lord it over us forever." That very night Tzompantzin and his son were politely escorted across the dark river.[1]
The following year, 1518, the temple of Coatlan was dedicated, with the usual sacrifices, the last recorded holocaust to consecrate a heathen temple. For already the white-winged vessels of Spain were at hand, having on board the messengers of a purer religion, even if it did not at once prove to be the gospel of peace to the poor Indian.
Pinotl, calpixque of Cuetlachtlan, was the first of Montezuma's captains, according to the native record, to make observations for the emperor of the dreaded visitants. Prompted no less by zeal in his master's service than by curiosity, Pinotl, with several attendants, armed with provisions and rich mantles for presents, had mingled with the crowd which boarded Grijalva's vessel, and had prostrated himself at the feet of the commander and his officers as before kings
- ↑ Codex Chimalpopoca, in Brasseur de Bourbourg, Hist. Nat. Civ., iv. 35-6.
