she clung tenaciously to him, refusing all attempts by Xoyo, who had followed her to the chamber, and the others to wrest her from him, and while she so held fast to him, his breathing stopped. And thus, in the arms of his adored Tlalalca, did Tizoc end his life.
Cihuacoatl staggered from the palace a broken man. Torn between his years of dedicated servitude to Tizoc and the desperation that drove him into being the instrument of his murder, he must have questioned the forces which led him to this. Devastated by feelings of intense guilt over having been responsible for selecting that young man to the kingship and then inflicting on him the ultimate penalty when the office proved too much for him, he knew he could never escape his own complicity in this and would forever carry this burden with him. Fainthearted while he lived, Tizoc exited from the world with wholesome dignity, casting a shadow of doubt over the necessity for his end and adding greatly to the minister’s commiseration. As he came to the front steps, his legs weakened and he paused to rest. He sat down and, for the first time in his recollection, openly wept.
XXI
Word of Tizoc’s death did not imbue the people of Tenochtitlan with the same depressing sense of loss as had marked the passing of previous monarchs. To a large extend, Tizoc’s personal habits contributed to this, for in his fervor for a private life which gave him greater leasure in working his garden than in attending to his ministers, he isolated himself in his palace more and more. As a result, he became an incrementally remote figure to them. During his last year, and especially following the Toluca campaign, he was rarely seen in public, appearing only when ceremonial duties required his presence, which made a majority of the populace easily susceptable to the circulating rumors claiming that Tizoc had long been ill. After all, this explained his frequent absence from them. There was thus no undue difficulty in reconciling that he had died as a consequence of his ailment.
There remained the tarnish of Tizoc’s cowardice which greatly detracted from his character and rendered him a figure of derision and public scorn. Not one individual resided in Tenochtitlan who had not learned of the monarch’s performance at Toluca; it stood as a hot topic discussed repeatedly by many warriors, and after every retelling was magnified to more pronounced dimensions until anyone hearing of it could only react in an outburst of angry revulsion or shame. Tizoc had therefore become a singularly unpopular leader among his subjects; for many there was acute embarrassment in admitting that he was their Revered Speaker. Some may have actually believed that providence saw to his untimely end so that they no longer had to endure further indignity and humiliation. Even the priests, whose reaction was so greatly dreaded, seemed to uniformly accept the explanation offered.
Although disfavored, Tizoc nevertheless had been a Revered Speaker and this required the appropriate funeral rite; protocol demanded it, even if it was to be subdued. It fell upon Cihuacoatl, Vice-Ruler, to announce Tizoc’s death, and he summoned the principal lords, magistrates, ministers, commanders, and ambassadors to the assembly hall on the following day and confirmed what most of them had already heard from unofficial sources.
“It is my umpleasant duty,” the minister soberly told his assemblage, “to inform you of the truth behind the rumors circulating our city. Lord Tizoc died unexpectedly of unknown causes yesterday afternoon. It is believed that he had been ill for some time, although he never spoke to anyone about this, and that the sickness had finally taken its toll on him. Send messengers to your cities to notify your rulers of this unfortunate event.”
A respectful show of silence for the departed monarch encompassed the gathering; there were some in attendance for whom the news was received with genuine sorrow, but for most it was met as not perticularly disturbing. Then Cihuacoatl continued.
“Inform your lords that they are enjoined to participate in the funeral rites as is customary. We are aware this notice is short, and if they cannot themselves attend, their representatives will be acceptable. Also inform them that the interclan council will meet afterwards to take up the matter of naming a successor. This concludes my announcement.”
Accordingly, the personages departed to make their preparations and reflect over the situation. Most concerned themselves with the meeting of the interclan council, for its decision was of more immediate importance to them. The prospect of a new Revered Speaker had an appealing, and yet apprehensive quality to it: it portended changes and, as had been the case in Tizoc, these may not necessarily be for the better.
In the House of the Dead, Tizoc’s body was being readied for its final ceremonial function. First it was bathed thoroughly in clover water and then dried out and scented with exotic perfumes. Next, it was dressed in the royal robes which he normally wore on important occasions and bedecked with rich jewelry; locks from the top of his head were sheared off to be retained as a memorial and emeralds were placed in his mouth. The body was then cloaked in seventeen different mantles, each delicately woven and representing a deity, with Huitzilopochtli’s the outer wrap, and it was set on a mat in a sitting position. A lifelike turquoise mask conforming to Tizoc’s prominent features was fastened over the face: the body was now prepared for its last observance.
Soon, dignitaries arrived in the capital to send Tizoc on his journey, among them Nezahualpilli and Chimalpopoca of the Alliance cities as well as a host of monarchs from the nearby urban centers and ambassadors of those rulers too distant to personally attend. They brought with them gifts for offerings. Nezahualpilli came with two slaves, a man and a woman, exquisitely adorned in attire and ornaments who carried his gifts and would serve as benefactions themselves. For Axayacatl’s funeral, he had brought four of them, as did every other ruler among the clans, but this was an uncertain situation for him; Tizoc’s lack of popularity might have made even these seem extravagant to the remaining princes. As it was, only he and Chimalpopoca, who also provided a slave of each gender, came with such presents while the rest of the potentates arrived merely with containers of ornaments. food, and drink. Such was the decline of respect spawned by Tizoc.
Tizoc’s beclad body was set upon the throne and the official ceremony began by each lord in turn speaking to it in the presence of his peers as if it were still alive and could hear his words. Nezahualpilli initiated this series of orations.
“Most noble ruler, Tizoc. I look upon you for the last time and wish you a successful journey to the heavens. You have by now come to the place where you shall find your fathers and the lords who preceeded you, and you now enjoy the glory of the Lord of Creation, of the day and the night, and of the air and fire. So that you might spend your time in greater happiness, I present you with this gift. I hope you will favor it.”
With that, Nezahualpilli led his slaves carrying the rich presents before the body and stepped aside to make way for the next speaker, Chimalpopoca.
“My son, distinguished lord, and ruler. The glory and happiness you sought in life, and were so often denied to you, presently surround you in the place of your kinsmen and ancestors. Even as I speak to you, you are already standing before the house lit by the splendor of the Sun where you will meet those who have taken this journey before you. I, too, give you an offering which should make your future time more pleasant for you. May you repose in serenity, my son.”
And so it continued, ruler after ruler, while the remaining participants listened to each speaker impart his memories and final comments, until the last of them had their say. After this observance, professional mourners entered and sang dirges to the body as food and drink were placed about it in a variety of containers. Then the lords slowly passed by and deposited their jewelry and other prized belongings beside the gifts already there while criers continued with their sad songs until the entire room overflowed with presents.
After all the gifts had been presented, all the songs sung, and all the eulogies rendered, the body was placed into a covered litter and carried across the plaza to the Temple of Huitzilopochtli in a solemn procession, imposing in its staid expression, with dignitaries trailing the bearers to the slow intermittant beat of a single drum.
