His route lay through the country of the Tlascalans, a warlike people, who spurned his professions of friendship, and attacked the invaders in a series of battles. The imperfection of their weapons rendered their efforts fruitless; and having been severely taught the strength of their enemies, they sued for peace, and became faithful and active allies. The Spaniards, accompanied by a body of 6000 Tlascalans, then advanced without resistance to Mexico itself; after punishing an attempt to lead them into an ambuscade at Cholula by an indiscriminate massacre, in which 6000 persons are reported to have perished. Montezuma received them with the semblance of profound respect. He told them of an ancient tradition, that the ancestors of the Mexicans came originally from a remote region, and conquered the land: after which their leader went back to his own country, promising that at some future period his descendants should return to reform their constitution, and assume the government; and Montezuma expressed his belief that the Spaniards were the persons whom his countrymen were thus taught to expect. Another tradition, which helped to produce that weak and wavering conduct which gave the Spaniards such advantage, foretold that some great misfortune should accrue to the native inhabitants from a race of invaders from the regions of the rising sun. It is remarkable that, according to the earliest and best Spanish historians, this belief was very prevalent in the New World. The Spaniards, with their Indian allies, were quartered in the ample precincts of a royal palace. But Cortez was uneasy, notwithstanding these fair appearances. He had advanced with a handful of men into a populous city, where he might at any time be surrounded and attacked by multitudes. He was warned by the Tlascalans of Montezuma’s faithlessness; and the hostile spirit of the Mexicans was made plain, by intelligence that several Spaniards had been slain in repelling an attack on the garrison of Vera Cruz. Cortez felt that Montezuma’s forbearance proceeded only from timidity, and that his own best security lay in working upon that passion. He conceived the daring resolution to make the king a prisoner in his own capital; judging that, while Montezuma lived, the Mexicans would not throw off their allegiance, nor disobey his mandates, though issued under foreign control. He went, therefore, as usual, to the palace, attended only by a few picked men; and being admitted without suspicion to the emperor’s presence, he complained angrily of the attack on the garrison of Vera Cruz, and required Montezuma, as a pledge of his good faith, to take up his residence in the Spanish quarters. Betrayed by his own easiness into the power of a few strangers, Montezuma complied, under the imminent fear of personal violence. Cortez next required that the officer who commanded in the attack complained of should be given up. This was done; and he,