Deleted member 147978
Seems like the Spanish only colonize the whole Caribbean and OTL Southeastern US.
Okay then.
The Jaguar's Roar - An Aztec Timeline
- Thread starter Vinization
- Start date
Okay then.
I mean they don’t necessarily need to be close as shown with how gold rushes attract people from all over the world due to how lucrative they are. This is specially true with already a lot of Spaniards showing that they can live with the Aztecs and nothing happening. The Aztecs could even encourage this to get even more technology to filter trough with whoever comes for riches especially in the mining aspect.
The thing is, Guanajauto is not under the control of any ""civilized"" peoples right now, and neither is Sinaloa.
When the Spanish subjugated the semi-nomadic Chichimeca tribes of northern Mexico, they often transplanted Tlaxcallan auxiliaries and their families in military settlements to serve as examples for the locals to emulate. I could see the Triple Alliance and the Tarascans doing similar measures to pacify the north.
This tech-tax might have worked initially with the first Spaniards that arrive, but I don't think the Mexica can sustain it for long. Most civilizations (and enterprises) try to keep their technological knowledge close guarded. The Spaniards will likely realize how powerful a bargaining chip they have with it. They might offer tech in exchange for land or other privileges, and then just not deliver (or deliver misguided information).
Bringing too much change too fast to any civilization also destabilizes it and as such the Mexican leadership might want change to trickle slowly (which has its own dangers). I'm very curious to see how the TL resolves these paradoxes.
I don't think this would work for the Mexica as well as it did for the Spanish (if it even worked at all). I think the Spanish were working under an "all natives are alike/similar" prejudice when they tried to use the Tlaxcallans as "examples". Furthermore, the Spanish needed the Tlaxcallan manpower and labor for the colonies as there were too few Spanish in the Americas during the early stages of colonialism.
If the Triple Alliance expands north I think Texcoco and the Texcocoan will best serve this role. Not only is Texcoco is the 2nd most important atepetl (city-state) in the Empire but the Texcocoans descent from Chichimecas in the north.
It'll take some time, unfortunately, I'm terribly busy right now.
Do you guys think the Aztecs would get involved with the transatlantic slave trade? I could see a demand for a cheap new source of labor after all the plague. Its also possible the ownership of black slaves could evolve into a status symbol among the Mexica nobility.
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That could be a very interesting thought.
Although, one question I have would slavery in a surviving Mexica elite be different compared to the European style of slavery? In the Aztec empire, there were slaves before the Spanish arrived
Interesting but I think Spanish influence and economic strain could lead to hereditary slavery being a thing. But importing Africans then having their kids try to integrate in Nahuatl society sounds interesting
Stop.
Do Not Pass Go.
Do Not Collect $200.
Badgering authors for updates is remarkably impolite.
Cease and desist.
Some city-states might even get their sacrifices over the african trade, not only slaves, that could start some really dark things, depending on what group were speaking about.
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I honestly see it as inevitable. They have no qualms about slavery, so there's nothing stopping them from acquiring them for cheap labor, especially for the silver/gold mines or cacao and vanilla plantations. They could even sacrifice them (or even eat them), but it really just depends on how they view these new slaves and whether the old religion will survive. At the very least, the Mexica will keep them enslaved for life, with the possibility of hereditary slavery being possible due to their economic value, "otherness", and Spanish influence.
I have to wonder how Europeans would take this. On the one hand, they could be pretty damn racist and comfortable killing large numbers of Africans. On the other hand, even if I don't see much of a defensible distinction between sacrificing someone to Left-Handed Hummingbird or working them to death, Europeans of the time would.
The main destinction and opposition for the time period might not come so much from compassion and love, but more from hatred about sacrifices to what in their Christian eyes can be nothing more then polytheistic Devil worshipping, so while they might not care for selling slaves to them, they (especially the Church) might object sacrificing people to Lucifer in any number.
Part 8: Nepantla
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Part 8: Nepantla
Part 8: Nepantla
Great Market of Tlatelolco
October 1528
October 1528
It didn't matter how many times Fernando (1) visited the Mexica capital and (literally) set up shop on its busy northern suburb, he could never get used to the gargantuan crowds that swarmed Tlatelolco's market, all selling and buying an infinite variety of products - fabrics, both simple and exquisite, macaw feathers, jewels, seashells, dyes, tobacco, an assortment of tools, pottery, food, spices - to which he only contributed a microscopic amount. For him, it was sometimes still hard to believe that he was even here in the first place, countless kilometers away from his native Maragatería, whose population, he was sure, was many times smaller than that of this single market. How could it not be, when even Seville, which he saw in very extensive detail before embarking on the long journey to the New World, was at best only equal in size and wealth to the city he was inside of right now?
Still, although he was now living in a place that could be best described as, well, alien, in spite of how similar it was to its European counterparts (the few he saw, at least), Fernando wasn't a fool: his current life here in America was infinitely better than anything he could've plausibly hoped for back in Europe, and it had the potential of improving even further if he played his cards right. He arrived in this distant continent two years ago as a nobody among many others, and now he belonged to the still small growing number of Spaniards who were allowed to leave Veracruz to do business with the Mexica in their capital, as well as the many cities which stood in the way. It wasn't easy to learn Nahuatl, especially because every damned place he visited somehow had a different accent, but he gritted through it and now had enough of a grasp on it to not need to pay for a translator anymore. And that wasn't the only thing in Fernando that was changing, since it didn't take long for him to realize that the clothes made from the fabrics the locals used were far more comfortable in the sweltering tropical sun than the ones he brought from his homeland. Once they were, ahem, "adapted" for someone like him, of course - he'd never wear a loincloth, obviously.
He was slowly going native, and to be honest, he found himself caring less and less. Sure, he had heard the incessant sermons of the priests and missionaries, most of whom somehow managed to say the exact same thing over and over again, each time with different words: that these people were pagans who took hundreds or even thousands of innocents to their temples and then ripped their hearts out, and that by trading with - and, therefore, strengthening - them, the Spanish merchants were just as guilty of taking part in these horrific acts as they were. Though Fernando had heard similar tales from other traders, he never saw anything which could confirm them in person, and thus by now believed these stories were just a trick those men used to keep potential rivals from entering this or that city - this was a very lucrative and competitive business, after all. All he had seen in the past two years so far were people - sure, people who spoke a different language and still unaware of the word of God, but people nonetheless. Not the kind of savage barbarians capable of committing this kind of atrocity.
The marketgoers were gripped by a wave of murmurs, and this drastic departure from the usual cacophony, combined with the some of the words that were said, got Fernando's attention. What was going on? He tried to get a better view of whatever was the source of this commotion, but there were so many people in front of him he could barely see anything of note beyond the top of the great temples a kilometer or so south of where he was. The crowd's anxious whispers were suddenly replaced by a tide of screams and cheers that shook the foreigner's body to his core, so powerful and deafening it was. This went on for several minutes before finally subsiding for a while, and it was during this lull that Fernando heard what sounded like music, no doubt coming from the center of Tenochtitlan. He had heard about how Cuauhtémoc, ruler of the Mexica, had departed the capital several months ago, so perhaps he was finally returning home. No wonder the people were celebrating - if the descriptions he heard about the sovereign of this land were accurate, he was undoubtedly laden with the spoils of a victorious conquest.
The crowd erupted into cheers once again, their voices sounding even louder than before, and Fernando swore he could feel their euphoria contaminating the very air he breathed, almost intoxicating him in a way. His senses were overwhelmed: all he could hear was the people's incessant shouting and jubilation, all he could see was them jumping, waving their arms and sometimes dancing, and all his skin could feel was the tropical heat getting even worse thanks to all the agitation. His muscles tensed, the temptation of joining the crowd in their display of unbridled joy creeping up his spine with each passing second.
Until he saw something that made his blood run cold.
Still, although he was now living in a place that could be best described as, well, alien, in spite of how similar it was to its European counterparts (the few he saw, at least), Fernando wasn't a fool: his current life here in America was infinitely better than anything he could've plausibly hoped for back in Europe, and it had the potential of improving even further if he played his cards right. He arrived in this distant continent two years ago as a nobody among many others, and now he belonged to the still small growing number of Spaniards who were allowed to leave Veracruz to do business with the Mexica in their capital, as well as the many cities which stood in the way. It wasn't easy to learn Nahuatl, especially because every damned place he visited somehow had a different accent, but he gritted through it and now had enough of a grasp on it to not need to pay for a translator anymore. And that wasn't the only thing in Fernando that was changing, since it didn't take long for him to realize that the clothes made from the fabrics the locals used were far more comfortable in the sweltering tropical sun than the ones he brought from his homeland. Once they were, ahem, "adapted" for someone like him, of course - he'd never wear a loincloth, obviously.
He was slowly going native, and to be honest, he found himself caring less and less. Sure, he had heard the incessant sermons of the priests and missionaries, most of whom somehow managed to say the exact same thing over and over again, each time with different words: that these people were pagans who took hundreds or even thousands of innocents to their temples and then ripped their hearts out, and that by trading with - and, therefore, strengthening - them, the Spanish merchants were just as guilty of taking part in these horrific acts as they were. Though Fernando had heard similar tales from other traders, he never saw anything which could confirm them in person, and thus by now believed these stories were just a trick those men used to keep potential rivals from entering this or that city - this was a very lucrative and competitive business, after all. All he had seen in the past two years so far were people - sure, people who spoke a different language and still unaware of the word of God, but people nonetheless. Not the kind of savage barbarians capable of committing this kind of atrocity.
The marketgoers were gripped by a wave of murmurs, and this drastic departure from the usual cacophony, combined with the some of the words that were said, got Fernando's attention. What was going on? He tried to get a better view of whatever was the source of this commotion, but there were so many people in front of him he could barely see anything of note beyond the top of the great temples a kilometer or so south of where he was. The crowd's anxious whispers were suddenly replaced by a tide of screams and cheers that shook the foreigner's body to his core, so powerful and deafening it was. This went on for several minutes before finally subsiding for a while, and it was during this lull that Fernando heard what sounded like music, no doubt coming from the center of Tenochtitlan. He had heard about how Cuauhtémoc, ruler of the Mexica, had departed the capital several months ago, so perhaps he was finally returning home. No wonder the people were celebrating - if the descriptions he heard about the sovereign of this land were accurate, he was undoubtedly laden with the spoils of a victorious conquest.
The crowd erupted into cheers once again, their voices sounding even louder than before, and Fernando swore he could feel their euphoria contaminating the very air he breathed, almost intoxicating him in a way. His senses were overwhelmed: all he could hear was the people's incessant shouting and jubilation, all he could see was them jumping, waving their arms and sometimes dancing, and all his skin could feel was the tropical heat getting even worse thanks to all the agitation. His muscles tensed, the temptation of joining the crowd in their display of unbridled joy creeping up his spine with each passing second.
Until he saw something that made his blood run cold.
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Main Palace of Zaachila
February 1532
Andrés de Olmos (2) took a deep breath to calm his nerves. He was on a dangerous, clandestine mission, one which didn't befit a holy man like him, and yet that made the young Franciscan priest the perfect courier for the men he was working for. He was sent, along with other missionaries, to the valley of Huaxyacac under the orders of the bishop of Veracruz, Juan de Zumárraga (3), to not only spread the word of God among the inhabitants of Zaachila, but to, if possible, establish friendly relations with the city's king, Cocijopij, who in spite of being Cuauhtémoc's nephew was believed to be chafing under his increasingly oppressive overlord. His task was perilous for two reasons: the first, and the most obvious one by far, was the fact he was basically attempting to foment a rebellion on one of the Triple Alliance's most important provinces. The second was that he was acting without the authorization of either the crown or the governor of Cuba, which meant there was a very high chance he would be treated like a criminal, if caught - and Narváez would do everything in his power to protect his business partners in Tenochtitlan.
Three years had passed since their arrival, during which they were tremendously successful in their first task, in no small part because they were allowed to preach wherever they wanted. This was a sign that the rumors about the Zapotec leader's disloyalty were right, since he heard from other missionaries working elsewhere that they were often harassed by the local authorities. With this in mind, the holy men requested an audience with Cocijopij, then had a meeting to decide who would best represent them. They chose Olmos unanimously, since he was judged to speak the Zapotec language better than his companions.
And now he was here, inside Cocijopij's palace, surrounded by guards and aristocrats, while the king, sitting on his throne, stared him down. "Greetings, foreigner." He began. "To what do we owe your visit?"
"Your Highness," Olmos replied in Zapotec, and bowed. "I am here to personally thank you, for allowing me and my brethren to do our work. We were able to save many souls because of it, all thanks to you." He heard several whispers coming from the men around him, and even saw some smiles through the corners of his eyes. Cocijopij's expression, meanwhile, was mostly unchanged, but he did raise an eyebrow. Clearly, this stranger could be very useful for his own plans.
"It is the least we can do. Our peoples are allies, are they not?" The king spoke up again. "And besides, you are far more polite than the rest of your countrymen, so it was only fair that we treat you well." He quipped, obviously referring to the European mercenaries who were now an extremely common sight in the lands ruled by the Triple Alliance.
Olmos chuckled, and felt a weight being lifted off his shoulders. Still, he had a job to do. "Those men are nothing more than vultures. They do not care about who or what they serve, only how much gold they get paid with. They are far from our best."
"You woundn't happen to belong to that group, would you?" Cocijopij immediately replied with a smirk, the suddenness of the question making his courtiers burst into laughter.
"Wha-!!!" Olmos gasped, horrified at what he implied. "No, no no no!" He stammered. "Please forgive me, sir, I didn't mean to come off as arrogant."
"At ease, stranger." The king laid back on his throne. "Do not worry, you are safe here. Now..." He leaned forward, his once joking expression now completely serious. "What are you really here for?"
Three years had passed since their arrival, during which they were tremendously successful in their first task, in no small part because they were allowed to preach wherever they wanted. This was a sign that the rumors about the Zapotec leader's disloyalty were right, since he heard from other missionaries working elsewhere that they were often harassed by the local authorities. With this in mind, the holy men requested an audience with Cocijopij, then had a meeting to decide who would best represent them. They chose Olmos unanimously, since he was judged to speak the Zapotec language better than his companions.
And now he was here, inside Cocijopij's palace, surrounded by guards and aristocrats, while the king, sitting on his throne, stared him down. "Greetings, foreigner." He began. "To what do we owe your visit?"
"Your Highness," Olmos replied in Zapotec, and bowed. "I am here to personally thank you, for allowing me and my brethren to do our work. We were able to save many souls because of it, all thanks to you." He heard several whispers coming from the men around him, and even saw some smiles through the corners of his eyes. Cocijopij's expression, meanwhile, was mostly unchanged, but he did raise an eyebrow. Clearly, this stranger could be very useful for his own plans.
"It is the least we can do. Our peoples are allies, are they not?" The king spoke up again. "And besides, you are far more polite than the rest of your countrymen, so it was only fair that we treat you well." He quipped, obviously referring to the European mercenaries who were now an extremely common sight in the lands ruled by the Triple Alliance.
Olmos chuckled, and felt a weight being lifted off his shoulders. Still, he had a job to do. "Those men are nothing more than vultures. They do not care about who or what they serve, only how much gold they get paid with. They are far from our best."
"You woundn't happen to belong to that group, would you?" Cocijopij immediately replied with a smirk, the suddenness of the question making his courtiers burst into laughter.
"Wha-!!!" Olmos gasped, horrified at what he implied. "No, no no no!" He stammered. "Please forgive me, sir, I didn't mean to come off as arrogant."
"At ease, stranger." The king laid back on his throne. "Do not worry, you are safe here. Now..." He leaned forward, his once joking expression now completely serious. "What are you really here for?"
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While the idea of a perfectly stable, static society being suddenly flipped upside down by a decisive historical event is little more than a fiction - humanity is and always will be in flux, after all - but if there was one place where this fiction came closest to reality, it was the Americas. From the far-off lands of the Kanata people to the equally distant ones under the control of the Sapa Inca, every person, from the grandest noble or priest to the humblest peasant (not at the same time, obviously), realized that the world they lived in was changing forever, and not necessarily for the better. With Mesoamerica being the first non-island region in the continent to be visited by Europeans in large numbers, this phenomenon was not only extensively documented by its (Nahuatl-speaking) inhabitants, but given a name: Nepantla. The word itself already existed in their vocabulary, and meant, in the literal sense, "in-between-ness", a perfect way to describe the state their society and culture were in, and its usage became so ubiquitous in official documents, literary works of multiple types and other cultural manifestations that the period between 1519 and 1597 became known, by future academics, as the Nepantla Period - the era of transition.
Since the demographic, political and military effects of the exchange (a steep decline in population thanks to new diseases, an impulse towards increased centralization and the adoption of iron weapons and armor, as well as gunpowder) in the Triple Alliance have already been discussed in detail, we shall now turn to two other important subjects left unaddressed, the economy and culture. Though the shock that first came when Cortés and his ill-fated expedition visited the great cities of the empire wore off once they revealed themselves to be terrible house guests, the fact there was another continent far beyond the seas the Mexica knew, and an empire perhaps even grander than the one they had sitting there, was nothing short of horrific for those few who knew the full extent of the truth during the years between Cortés' defeat and Narváez's arrival. Indeed, one letter written by the tlatoani of Texcoco at the time, Cacamatzin, to Moctezuma II despaired over the prospect of a future war with Spain, and urged the recipient to squeeze out every possible secret held by the Lucky Sixty through whatever means necessary (4).
Since the demographic, political and military effects of the exchange (a steep decline in population thanks to new diseases, an impulse towards increased centralization and the adoption of iron weapons and armor, as well as gunpowder) in the Triple Alliance have already been discussed in detail, we shall now turn to two other important subjects left unaddressed, the economy and culture. Though the shock that first came when Cortés and his ill-fated expedition visited the great cities of the empire wore off once they revealed themselves to be terrible house guests, the fact there was another continent far beyond the seas the Mexica knew, and an empire perhaps even grander than the one they had sitting there, was nothing short of horrific for those few who knew the full extent of the truth during the years between Cortés' defeat and Narváez's arrival. Indeed, one letter written by the tlatoani of Texcoco at the time, Cacamatzin, to Moctezuma II despaired over the prospect of a future war with Spain, and urged the recipient to squeeze out every possible secret held by the Lucky Sixty through whatever means necessary (4).
The establishment of friendly relations following the Treaty of Tlatelolco allowed for deeper ties to be made between the Spaniards and the Mesoamerican peoples. The first tangible consequence of this development was the growth of the cities along the route linking Tenochtitlan to the port of Veracruz (which became known as the Camino del Oro, or Gold Road), since they served as stopping points for the merchants who made the long journey from the coast to the Valley of Anahuac. In spite of this phenomenon being widespread throughout the entire Gold Road, some places, such as Xallapan, Tizatlan and Cholula, benefited from it more than others, be it because they were already important urban centers or because of their strategic location. Cholula's growth was especially dramatic, since much of its population had been massacred by then still independent Tlaxcalans and their Spanish allies on October 18, 1519. Its recovery can be credited to two factors, the first of which was mentioned just now, and the second being the vast investments that came directly from Tenochtitlan's treasury. With its legendary pyramid and dozens of temples dedicated to multiple gods, Cholula was (and still is, of course) one of the most important religious centers in all of Mesoamerica (so much so that many nobles would go there to legitimize their authority) and because of this its reconstruction was one of the central government's top priorities (5).
But Tenochtitlan's monopoly on trade with Europeans couldn't last forever. Another city, far to the south of it, became an equally tantalizing destination for the Spaniards and their insatiable hunger for precious metals: Zaachila, the dominant urban center of the Zapotec Highlands. Though it was saddled with a substantial Mexica garrison, the fact it was conquered at a relatively recent date (sometime during the reign of Moctezuma - surviving records are unclear) and its dynasty was lucky enough to avoid the worst of the wave of political decapitations brought about by smallpox and other new diseases made Zaachila a force not to be trifled with. As if that weren't enough, its king, Cocijopij, was directly related to the Triple Alliance's royal family - his mother was a daughter of Ahuitzotl, making him Cuauhtémoc's nephew - which only reinforced his legitimacy as a ruler. And so, in spite of his overlord's wary gaze, he began to slowly build up an arsenal with the help of every European who entered his dominion (6).
Another development that had far-reaching consequences was the gradual adoption of draft animals like oxen, horses and mules. The very idea of using creatures capable of doing the work of dozens of people was completely alien to the Mesoamerican peoples, since they had no such animals to speak of (unlike their counterparts in the Andes, who at least had llamas). Thus, it took a relatively long time for the animals to be employed correctly (with some embarrassing occasions becoming the subject of comedies), but once their new handlers got the hang of it, the result couldn't be described as anything other than an agricultural revolution. The yields of the ever-important Three Sisters (maize, beans and squash, the backbone of North American agriculture), crippled by the death of millions of peasants thanks to repeated outbreaks of smallpox, typhus, measles and other illnesses, suddenly skyrocketed, and, in 1531, records showed a decrease in food prices for the first time in years (7).
Another area that also went through a change, but was sorely underanalyzed by past researchers until the last few decades, was linguistics. Since the Nahuatl language often had no name for many of the things the newcomers brought with them, its speakers took the words the Spaniards used to describe these novelties and adapted them to their own tongue. Some examples of this phenomenon are words such as pollo, huacax, bala and cauallo, whose very similar or sometimes identical Spanish counterparts (pollo, vaca, bala and caballo) mean chicken, cow, bullet and horse, respectively (8). The schools dedicated to the education of the upper classes also began to gradually adopt the learning of Spanish as part of their lessons, once a large enough corps of bilingual individuals who could serve as teachers was organized.
Finally, there was one last front in which the Spanish and Mesoamerican cultures interacted in a big way: religion. Missionaries from multiple orders (usually Franciscans or Dominicans) were a constant presence in Spanish expeditions, and they were predictably horrified at not only how widespread the practice of human sacrifice was, but how essential it was for the locals. The priesthood, on the other hand, was just as horrified at the foreigners' protests, since, for them, these sacrifices were what kept the world from being destroyed by the Moon and the stars. A conflict was inevitable under these circumstances, and many surviving documents state that missionaries were often barred from entering certain cities, and if they got in anyway, they were harrassed or even outright expelled by the local authorites on the charge of fomenting insurrection (9). Still, a number of nobles and lords saw the Christian faith with welcoming eyes, since they had no interest in sending their subjects (whose numbers dwindled with each passing year) to be killed in far-off Tenochtitlan if they could avoid it.
However, relations between the Mexica priests and their European counterparts weren't always hostile, and many interesting discussions were had on the occasions when cooler heads prevailed. Thankfully, some records showing the details of these dialogues survived, revealing two groups that, although very different, were still profoundly fascinated (if puzzled) with one another. For example, a letter written by a priest of Tlaloc stated that "these men don't make any sense. They claim to revere one god alone, only to say in the same breath that said god is somehow also three." Beyond the Holy Trinity, other aspects of the Catholic Church that confused them were the worshipping of saints and their relics (eerily similar, in their view, to their own reverence of statues and other sacred objects the missionaries said were 'idols') as well as the multiple instances of animal sacrifices mentioned in the Bible. The missionaries' answer to the last question, that Jesus sacrificed himself on behalf of all humanity, didn't please their interlocutors either, since it meant the sacrifices they performed for millennia were all for nothing.
As for the Spaniards, their interest was most piqued by the purported origin story of the Mexica: according to their counterparts, they were a nomadic people who originated in a distant, arid region far to the north who, after many trials and persecutions by stronger peoples, eventually settled in the land that had been promised to them by Huitzilopochtli, the island on which Tenochtitlan was founded. The similarities between this story and the one narrated by the Book of Exodus, in which the Israelites fled from a life of slavery in Egypt and made a new home for themselves in Canaan after an arduous journey, were impossible to ignore (10). To the missionaries, this could mean only one thing: in spite of their mistaken beliefs and barbaric practices, the Mexica and their subjects were people just like themselves, people who already knew some aspects of Christianity despite never having heard of it for their entire lives, until now.
A realization that made their evangelizing work all the more important.
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Notes:
(1) An original character.
(2) IOTL he wrote books on the Nahuatl, Totonac and Huastec languages. Sadly, only the first one survived to the modern day.
(3) He was the first Bishop of Mexico IOTL.
(4) IOTL Cacamatzin was killed during the Noche Triste.
(5) IOTL Cholula was superseded by the nearby city of Puebla, founded by the Spanish in 1531.
(6) Which explains his attitude in the second vignette.
(7) Not a big decrease, mind you, but a noticeable one, just enough to make the average person's life slightly easier and affect the ongoing demographic trend.
(8) I got these words from this online dictionary. Hopefully I got them right...
(9) A very different scenario from OTL's, of course, and one that will inevitably lead to conflict... once Madrid finds out about it.
(10) I swear, someone HAD to make that connection IOTL. Seriously!