As we read the brief account of the combat between the Mayans and the Spaniards, return to each sentence and dwell on it briefly to appreciate the brutality of this type of combat. Bernal is spare with his words, but, for the military reader, he lays out the bones of an encounter well enough, that defleshing the expedition takes no wild flight of fancy, simply the appreciation of the weaponry.
Most of the Spaniards had torso protection capable of withstanding the Stone Age weapons they faced. Limb protection varied, with the legs being more vulnerable. It is doubtful that any had face protection. Therefore fatal wounds in battle would have been to the face, throat, armpit and groin, with lingering fatal wounds mostly likely suffered to the limbs. The Spaniards were in a bad operational situation due to their amphibious enterprise, and were already less mobile than their less encumbered adversaries. Therefore leg wounds suffered in clashes presented an ongoing operational calamity.
There were three types of Spanish troops, an armored halberdier, a half armored musketeer, and an armored swordsman with a round shield. Only a quarter of the expedition would be armed with shields, with all having swords, which were indispensable in preventing an overrun and being able to fight for longer periods than the Indians wielding heavier weapons. The Indians, due to their numbers, were able to wear the Spanish down by fighting in shifts.
“As we sailed on our course we sighted another town about three miles back from an inlet which looked like the mouth of a river or stream. So we decided to anchor; and because the tide falls so far on this coast and ships are liable to be stranded, we stood three miles off. Then we went ashore in our boats and the smallest ship, carrying all our casks and well provided with weapons. We landed a little after midday[1] three miles from the town, where there were some pools, some maize plantations, and a few small stone houses. As we were filling our casks, many bands of Indians came along the coast from the town of Champoton, as it is called, wearing cotton armor to the knees, and carrying bows and arrows, lances and shields, swords which appeared to be two-handed, slings and stones. They wore the habitual feathered crests, their faces were painted black [2] and white and rust-red, and they approached us silently. They came straight towards us, as if in peace, and asked us by signs whether we came from the east. We relied also by signs that we did. We were puzzled by the words that they then called out to us, which were the same as the Indians at Lazaro had used. But we could not make out what they meant. All this happened about nightfall, and the Indians then went off to some near-by village. We posted sentinels as a precaution, for we mistrusted these great assemblies of Indians.
“As we watched through the night we heard a great band of warriors approach from the farms and town, and we well knew that this boded us no good. We discussed what we should do, and some were for embarking immediately. The majority thought, however, that if we attempted to do soothe Indians would attack us at once, and since they were so many we should be in danger of our lives. But a few of us were for attacking them in the night, for, as the proverb goes, the first blow is half the battle.
“While we were still debating, the dawn broke, and we saw that we were outnumbered by two hundred to one. So wishing one another a strong heart for the fight, we commended ourselves to God and did our best to save our lives.
“Once it was daylight we could see many more warriors advancing along the coast with banner raised and plumes and drums, to join the others who had gathered during the night. After forming up in squadrons and surrounding us on all sides, they assailed us with such a shower of arrows and darts and stones from their slings that more than eighty [3] of our soldiers were wounded. Then they attacked us hand to hand, some with lances and some shooting arrows, and others with their two-handed cutting swords. Though we fought back with swords and muskets and crossbows they brought us to a bad pass. At last, feeling the effects of the sword-play, they drew back a little, but not far, and only to shoot at us from greater safety. During the fighting the Indians shout to each other ‘Al calachuni, calachuni’, which meant in their language, ‘Attack and kill the captain.’ Our captain was hit by ten arrows, and I by three, one of which gave me a dangerous wound in the left side, piercing between my ribs. All the rest [of our men] received severe lance wounds, and two of or men were captured alive.”
“Our captain saw that good fighting did not help us, since so many bands surrounded us and so many more were coming up fresh from the town, [3] bringing food and drink with them and a large supply of arrows. All of our soldiers had received two or three arrows, three of them had their throats pierced by lance-thrusts, and our captain was bleeding from many wounds. Already fifty of our men had been killed [4], and we knew that we had no more strength to resist. So we determined with strong hearts to break through the Indian battalions and seek shelter in our boats, which lay off shore, not far away. Thus we saved ourselves. Forming ourselves up in close squadrons, we broke through the enemy, who with frightful screams, whistles and cries showered arrows upon us, and hurried their lances with all their might, wounding still more of us.
“Then we ran into another danger. As we all jumped into the boats at the same time, and there were many of us, they began to sink. Clinging to the sides of the waterlogged craft as best we could, and half swimming, we reached the vessel of shallowest draught, which came in haste to our assistance. Many of our men were wounded again as we embarked, especially those who were clinging to the stern of the boats, for they presented a good target. The Indians even waded into the sea with their lances, and attacked us with all their might. But, thank God, by a great effort we escaped with our lives from these people’s clutches.
“The battle had lasted an hour, and in addition to the fifty men or more killed and the two prisoners we threw five men overboard a few days later, who had died of their wounds and of the great thirst we suffered. As I said, the town was called Champoton, and the pilots and sailors named this coast on their charts The Coast of the Evil Battle.”
1. Landing in the heat of midday was a terrible idea, considering the weight of their equipment and the proximity of the enemy.
2. Black for death and red for blood, were common colors for war paint.
3. Before the diseases introduced by the Europeans and their handful of African slaves decimated the Central American populations, the Spanish faced huge bodies of native fighting men.
4. Modern company size units never remain functional after taking 100% casualties and suffering 30% fatalities. This was a bad day by any measure.
James. Thank you for the outstanding writing and sharing. I have always loved bernal diaz's work. I read it the first time on my first visit to Mexico and visited the ruins. Absolutely amazing what these few Europeans accomplished over an inhabited continent. Fighting on the steep temple steps and in canals. Grant's autobiography might be considered next. Also an excellent read. I look forward to reading more of your work. Best regards, Manny.
To me, a meathead at heart, going against such monstrous odds counts for something, even if you are venally wrong—to which I plead guilty on multiple counts.
Secondary accounts will factor into my notes.
Glad you like it Manny.