Restall, et al., et. al.

The well-chosen selections found in Mesoamerican Voices represent, to my mind,  diverse and at times surprisingly poignant accounts of the Native American responses to the Spanish Conquest. Indeed, moving from Spanish accounts to indigenous accounts is reminiscent of moving from Crusader accounts (“We rode in the blood of the Saracens up to the knees of our horses.”) to Muslim poetic laments of the atrocities experienced. Here, Restall and his co-editors have uncovered every color of the human emotional spectrum, from mild amusement to disgust, and the resulting anthology is, I think, splendid.

In the twelfth chapter of Book XII of the Florentine Codex, for example, we witness, in an intimate way, the response of the Mexica to the Europeans’ attitude towards gold: “Like monkeys they grabbed the gold. It was though their hearts were put to rest, brightened, renewed” (29). On the one hand we must be careful to recognize sheer (and understandable) dislike and scorn when we read it. On the other, there is little doubt in my mind that, having marched and toiled through what was no doubt an uncomfortable and high-stress environment, the Spaniards were indeed overjoyed to find the precious metal, as anyone who works hard for something is thrilled to finally have it. Both the joy on the part of the conquistadors and the distaste on the part of the Mexica strike me as authentic human reactions, and serve to give the history of the Conquest a personal dimension heretofore seen only in snippets.

The selection of brief documents also provide a reminder that the events we are examining in retrospect were lived in prospect. It is something every undergraduate history major should know, but something I, at least, am reminded of continuously. When the Tenocha argue among themselves and ask the agonizing question “Will  they [our children] ever live to grow up?” I am reminded of one of Restall’s myths: that of completion. The so-called Conquest, with all its attending uncertainties, weighed on the  minds  of individuals for decades and, given the time frame of this volume, indeed centuries.

The chapter on religious life was, for me, especially revealing-perhaps a necessary reminder, in this secular age, of the varieties of religious experience, as William James put it. We encounter the unpleasant example of the four fornicating friars, and can only assume that their exploits permanently tarnished Christianity in the minds of potential converts. And we also see the late seventeenth century example of Angelina, who bequeaths her houses to various saints in an act of sincere piety that shows no traces of indigenous religion, at least to my non-specialist eye.

Restall and Asselberg’s Invading Guatemala is a fascinating account–aided by the succinct and well-written introduction–of a would-be Cortes, Pedro de Alvarado. From the text, we gather that he was impressed with, and no doubt envious of, Cortes’ success in the Valley of Mexico, and sought to duplicate or surpass the earlier achievement in Guatemala. Alvarado’s letters to Cortes reveal a man of terrific ambition (and perhaps a dangerous temper), but one who (for whatever this may be worth) makes a point of praising the Spaniards accompanying him, shows respect for their endurance, and continually sent his own brother and cousin out on the most dangerous assignments (for which, as it turns out, they received very little reward). Bernal Diaz, for his part, portrays Alvarado as one who “displayed good will toward the caciques” (65).

The Nahua acounts, however, are for me the most revelatory in this anthology. The Tlaxcalan letter to the King of 1547, for example, follows the standard epistolary format verbatim, complete with the honorific “Holy Catholic and Caesarean Royal Majesty” (83). Their plight is severe, and the desperation evident: “Therefore, having seen and heard the very good and beneficial services done for your Majesty, we humbly implore you…[to] remember us, the poor and miserable, exhausted from such prolonged labors….” (84). Not only to the Tlaxcalans have nowhere else to turn–bring up the question as to the extent they truly considered themselves Spanish subjects–but they considered themselves to be, andin fact were themselves, conquistadores. It is something I was aware of intellectually, but the beauty of primary sources is their ability to express the reality of it. In the vernacular: primary sources drive the point home.