"Alvarado
—Captain
From Castile"
By Mildred Boyd
June 2003 Guadalajara-Lakeside Volume 19, Number 10
Many “B” adjectives apply to Pedro de Alva-rado. Unfortunately,
“brainy” is not one of them. On the other hand, neither is
“boring.” He was big, bold, brave, blond and beautiful; a
giant of a man whom the Indians called Tonatiuh, Child of the
Sun. He was also belligerent, bigoted, bloodthirsty, brutal, a bully
who loved to brawl and, backed by four hulking brothers, seldom lost
an argument.
Born in Badajoz, Spain around 1485, he,
with all his brothers, soon joined the rush of young hidalgos
seeking fortune and adventure in the New World. He must have been moderately
successful as a planter but it was not until 1518, when he was given
command of one of the four ships under Grijalva in Velasquez’ second
expedition to the mainland, that history begins to notice him, not always
to his credit.
He abandoned the fleet to go chasing
off up a river (naturally, named after himself), thus earning the first
of the many rebukes by superior officers for brashness and disobedience.
Because, or perhaps in spite of this, Grijalva soon sent him back to
Cuba to deliver what treasure had been collected and plead for reinforcements.
Velasquez was fitting out a third expedition under Hernan Cortez when
what was left of Grijalva’s fleet after several disastrous encounters
with hostile Indians limped back into port.
When Cortez, fearing the Governor’s
growing distrust, suddenly sailed from Santiago, Alvarado was forced
to march across Cuba to join the fun. The little fleet was separated
by a storm soon after its departure from Trinidad and, by accident or
design, Alvarado’s ship was the first to reach the rendezvous at
Cozumel. Despite Cortez’ explicit orders to treat the natives well,
he at once set about plundering valuables, vandalizing temples and terrorizing
them into flight.
Cortez was furious. Alvarado was once
again reprimanded in front of the entire army and forced to return every
last bead. Strangely, Alvarado never seemed to resent such public humiliations.
Even more strangely, Cortez continued to trust him in positions where
his rashness and irresponsibility could be, and eventually were, disastrous.
In contrast, when a common soldier named Morla was caught stealing two
chickens, Cortez ordered him summarily hanged. It was Alvarado, perhaps
in sympathy for a fellow scoundrel, who cut the man down before he strangled.
There is no doubting Pedro de Alvarado’s
military value. Bernal Diaz, who served under him from Grijalva’s
expedition through the conquest of Guatemala, recalled his winning smile
and added, “He was such a handsome man, so frank, such a good horseman,
so dashing a fighter.” He proved his worth in every battle on the
long march to Tenochtitlan and during the first uneasy occupation. The
Aztecs were fascinated by his charm and gallantry and even Moctezuma
was beguiled into bestowing one of his daughters on “Tonatiuh”
in marriage.
When Cortez was called away to confront
an expedition sent by Velasquez expressly to bring back his erring Captain-General
in chains, he made the mistake of leaving the Aztec capital in Alvarado’s
charge. Alvarado promptly celebrated his new authority with the massacre
of hundreds of unarmed Aztec nobles taking part in one of their religious
festivals. His excuse? They were plotting to attack his small garrison
during the ceremony. True or not (and it seems highly improbable), his
action precipitated the very thing he feared. The entire city rose in
outrage and the Spanish were besieged. When Cortez returned triumphant,
his erstwhile enemies now his allies, he marched into a trap.
Alvarado at least partially redeemed
himself by waging a desperate rear action across the embattled causeway
in the escape from the city. When at last all those who could had reached
safety, Alvarado fought on, unhorsed and alone, on the wrong side of
a wide water gap. Cortez looked on in despair, knowing his favorite
captain was lost, when, suddenly, the blond giant seized a fallen lance
and with a mighty effort pole-vaulted to safety. (Some say this never
happened, but “Alvarado’s Leap” has long been famous
in song and story and tour guides happily point out the spot, which
still bears the name Saito de Alvarado, where it supposedly took
place.)
Alvarado was forgiven and given an important
command during the subsequent siege and destruction of Tenochtitlan.
Unfortunately, he could not seem to stay out of trouble for long. His
rashness in advancing along his assigned causeway without making sure
of his line of retreat cost the army dearly and earned him yet another
public reprimand. He once again drew Cortez’ intervention and censure
when his arrogance and quarrelsome nature almost precipitated a pitched
battle between his troops and those of his fellow captain, Cristobal
de Olid.
The Aztec capital secure, Cortez began
sending expeditions to explore and pacify his new territory. Alvarado’s
task was to subdue Oaxaca. His glowing reports of the mineral wealth
of the area prompted Cortez to claim the Valley of Oaxaca and the title
Marques del Valle as his own reward.
Alvarado moved on to conquer Guatemala
for the Crown and, appointed Governor of that land, seems, on the whole,
to have served adequately in that capacity for many years. His treatment
of the natives certainly left a great deal to be desired and his arrogance
and rapacity were unabated, but, comparatively speaking, he was a model
of restraint and his subjects seem to have been torn between hating
his cruelty and admiring his valor.
Perhaps the old war-horse was simply
bored by all that peace and quiet. Certainly when, in 1541, he was called
to put down the uprising in Jalisco known as the Miston Rebellion, he
came at a run, snorting fire. Alas, the gallant hero never quite made
it into his last battle. Alvarado led the charge with his usual abandon
but, before he could engage the enemy, his horse slipped and fell, crushing
its rider. The somewhat unheroic death of the last of the legendary
Captains from Castile would signal the end of an epic era.