It sounds like Constantinople has had a relatively sheltered experience with the native tribes so far. They've been lucky to end up in a very peaceful area of North America. I can only imagine if they ended up farther to the east, for example in Sioux or Comanche territory.
Purple Phoenix Reborn (Constantinople ISOT)
- Thread starter Skywalker_T-65
- Start date
- Timeline
Charles Dewitt
A Paladin With No Self Confidence
- Location
- Middle of Nowhere Appalachia
He says after there was an entire arc of them fighting the Aztec Empire...
I was referring to the city of Constantinople itself. Sending an expedition to fight a distant war is very different from having to deal with hostile forces nearby. While those that did go and fight the Aztecs certainly knew what it was like, much of the population and indeed much of Constantinople's home government has not had that kind of experience. Most of those who live there now have only known peace for their whole lives. The way warfare was carried out, until relatively recently in our timeline, means that most of the population is largely unaffected (unless things are going extremely poorly). What really struck me in the preview was that compared to the marauding armies in Europe, the natives here really did seem very peaceful. However I'm certain once they explore and document farther and farther from the valley area they will find many more peoples who are not so... idyllic in nature.
Charles Dewitt
A Paladin With No Self Confidence
- Location
- Middle of Nowhere Appalachia
That's fair.
Agreed
…
- Pronouns
- She/Her
While there's no rules on necroing threads, posting nothing more than an ellipses 1 month after discussion has ended is extremely rude.
Chapter 19
Skywalker_T-65
Writer with too many ideas.
- Location
- United States
- Pronouns
- Plural/They/He/Her
Chapter 19
Spanish March on Tenochtitlan
Spanish March on Tenochtitlan
In the annals of European colonization, few events draw quite as much popular interest as the Spanish March on Tenochtitlan. True enough, the colonization of Arcadia proper is important, as would be the similar efforts in America [1] and Asia. However, there is a certain mystique to the Spanish actions in Mesoarcadia. Both the early actions of Cortés and the latter actions of those who followed him. Perhaps this is due to the great names involved. Hernan Cortés, Yiorgos of Tlaxcala, the Prince Demetrios and the Cazonci Irepani. A barrage of names that many history students are familiar with, even as far afield as Manila or Paris. The Aztec Empire, the Tlaxcala Confederation and the Iréchecua Tzintzuntzáni, all great states in their own rights, lend their own interest. There is some level of mystery in the Spanish mission, as well, with many facts lost to time and myth, due to the destruction of records. As well as the distortion of history that is, sadly, inevitable when political realities are taken into account.
Few things are certain about this tumultuous and fascinating part of history. What we can say, with certainty, is that the Spanish brought further death and ruin to the fragile Aztec domain. And, yet, that fragile domain would bite back and make the Spanish pay for every inch in their blood. Where the actions- or lack thereof -of the Tlaxcala enter? That is one of the greatest questions. As is the question of what Demetrios and the Purépecha would have done, had they been informed of the Spanish prior to the conflict reaching its inevitable crescendo before the gates of Tenochtitlan.
--Lecture on Mesoarcadian history, Constantinople, 2004
It was still the Tlaxcalans, in the end, and it hardly mattered if they had new friends. These battered, yet not broken, survivors simply watched. They gave neither aid nor conflict with the army. There was no point. Either this army would be battered and forced to retreat as so many before it, or they would succeed and the ruined settlements would simply pass from the Aztec to the Tlaxcala. It was a continuation of a cycle that had only grown more and more vicious in the days since the Romans arrived, though few indeed were the people on this side of the Aztec Empire who knew the word 'Roman'.
This was, of course, unnerving for many of the Spanish.
Those who, for whatever reason, were young and inexperienced. Men who had come on this wild adventure in search of riches or glory. Who had not fought in the bloody battlefields of Greece or any number of other conflicts in Europe.[2] These were the kind of men who had no context on how to view their fellow man in such a resigned state to the sight of an army marching past them. Men who were disgusted when they saw the Tlaxcala grab the occasional man for a sacrifice. Just...who were they working with? And who was the enemy here? That was the kind of question some of these men asked themselves.
Even the veterans, men like Cortés, looked upon these sorry excuses for humanity and felt a mix of disgust and pity. Had the war in this new land been so terrible as to bring the survivors to this state? Had it been so long since these people had felt any sort of hope?
"You will learn. Warfare here is neither kind nor beautiful. You saw it at Cholula. If a city falls, the people can expect most of their best to be sacrificed to one god or another. I hardly condone it, but I understand it. You cannot avoid it."
Yiorgos was, perhaps, the only man of European descent who didn't react in this way to the specific sights he saw. He had spent the majority of his adult life fighting this war, in one form or another. He remained bitter over the fate of Cholula, but he had long since lost his pity for the borderlands. The same men who stared at the army with bitter and haunted expressions would have gladly cut his still-beating heart from his chest. The same went for the equally devastated lands on the Tlaxcala side of the fluid border. There was no room for 'civilized' conflict here.
Were there such a thing. The Spanish interpreter, the man who had served in Greece, had seen similar sights there. Men would do terrible things to their fellow man, no matter if they worshipped gods, God or Allah.
It was only when they left those lands behind that the joint army began to loosen up. The Tlaxcala from warily watching the people they had done so much harm to, and the Spanish from seeing such ruin in person. Now the army moved through fertile grasslands and dense jungle. Past farms that remained intact and cities that still rang with the cheerful cries of children. Lands that, were it not for the climate and the strange buildings, wouldn't have looked out of place in Europe or Cuba. It was almost strange how familiar it was. After all, many of these men were more familiar with the primitive villages of the island natives they knew. The Aztec civilization, be it the main Triple Alliance or the various subject states, were more familiar in the broadest sort of ways. Their cities were cities. Their farms were farms. It wasn't, truly, that different.
On the surface, at least.
The Spanish would become more and more familiar with the differences as they moved through these cities. Some chose to fight and, much as Cholula, suffered the price. Though none with quite the same vindictiveness, as the Tlaxcala had possessed a special grudge towards that holy site. Others chose to let the army pass, fearing- rightfully -what the price of resisting would have been. Each of these cities, towns and villages were a new experience to the Spanish. The colorful buildings and the mighty pyramids quite unlike anything they would have experienced before. Or would have experienced, indeed, anywhere else in the world.
More than a few tales in the Codex Martinez speak of Spanish soldiers taking great interest in the cities they passed through.[3] If only to explore the massive plazas and the interestingly dressed locals. The pyramids? Those were avoided with a religious fervor bordering on the paranoid. While some, and this arguably included Cortés, would have loved nothing more than to destroy each and every one of these pagan temples, saner voices won out. As bloodstained as these temples were, they were still the core of the cities. The cities that, in large part, did not overtly resist the army. Attempting to destroy their holy sites would quickly wear that out.
And as the Aztec resistance began to steadily stiffen the closer the army marched to the capital? It was imperative that they stay in the good graces of the cities that were, at the least, not hindering their progress.
For as this resistance grew stronger and harsher, the Spanish began to truly experience what it meant to fight the Aztec. The small skirmishes- including the one that had occurred soon after landing -were nothing. Those had been against border troops or raiders, not the core of the Aztec army. A core that had been well-bloodied against the Purépecha and the Tlaxcala. This force, smarter and more used to fighting against European-inspired tactics, did not use the proverbial 'kid gloves' on the Spanish/Tlaxcalan force. Conflicts against the veteran Aztec troops lead to deaths that the Spanish were not anticipating.
Even the Tlaxcala were, somewhat, surprised at the increasing ferocity of these raids. They had, of course, never marched in such force on the heartlands of the Aztec Triple Alliance itself. They had limited themselves to the border raids that had characterized centuries of warfare between their peoples. It was only the addition of the Spanish and, in particular, Cortés that pushed for more offensive action. This pushing would, only naturally, draw increased attention from the Aztec. Especially as news of Cholula spread. It is generally agreed upon that Yiorgos, alone, cursed the destruction of that city every day. It made it clear to the Aztec, as if they ever doubted it, that the Spanish were not to be trusted. That the Tlaxcala had done what the Purépecha had done before them, and were determined to end their power.
Nothing fights more viciously than a cornered animal.
This was something that, as they made camp one last time before the final march on the Aztec capital, that the joint Spanish/Tlaxcalan force would have to reckon with.
The sounds of merriment rang out in the night, as Spanish and Tlaxcala alike spent what may well be their last night alive in joyous enjoyment. Local women, those they could trust, wandering through the tents while the soldiers tried to get their attention. More than a few men consumed the local beverages, including a bastardized version of Roman alcohol that Yiorgos had invented from half-remembered recipes of his father.[4] It was the kind of scene that would have fit right back in place in Europe to the Spanish. An army enjoying the last night before what could only be a massive battle.
Two men, however, were rather more somber. Sitting beside a campfire, nursing their own drinks, were the leaders of this little expedition. Both men of European descent, and yet, both men from completely different backgrounds. And not just because they had been born on opposite sides of the world. One was a son of a carpenter, risen to lordship on the merit of his experience and knowledge to help his new people. The other was the son of a soldier who had gotten where he was on pure, raw, ambition. Two men who were drastically different from one another.
And yet, they sat next to one another, in companionable silence. Until one of them spoke.
"Why am I so friendly with the Tlaxcalans?" Yiorgos looked out at Cortés from the corner of his eye, as the two men sat by the fire. Their joint army rested for the night, as they continued on a path towards inevitable conflict with the Aztec. "That is...why do you ask? You, if not your men, seem friendly enough with them yourself."
Cortés snorted softly, his hands lifting a cup of the bitter native drink that most of his men disdained. "There is a difference between being friendly and truly trusting them, or believing that their souls are worth saving. I use them as they use us, no matter any personal relationships." He took a sip of the drink, his lips coming away foamy, as the man continued. "You, on the other hand, are very trusting of them. A Lord among the savages. I do not understand it."
The two men, in the long march and the preparation before it, had reached the point of being able to communicate with one another without the need of a translator. Yiorgos now understood enough Spanish, having been primed due to his learning of Native tongues, to make himself understood. And Cortés understood enough Greek, even if it were the strange variety the Roman spoke, to not misunderstand. Most of the time. Both of their efforts would have natives of their homelands wincing in pain. Still. Though it was a strange mix of tongues that the men spoke, it worked well enough. It did make more complex topics difficult, however.
Such as this one.
"You come from a very different land. A land where everyone is Christian and looks like you. Am I wrong?" Yiorgos drank from his own mug, raising an eyebrow at the Spanish leader.
"Ha! If only all Spaniards were Christians. Then there would be no cause for worrying of the Jew running in the darkness or the Moor waiting for a chance to return with his dirty compatriots." Cortés may laugh, but it was not a noise of amusement. His words carried a harsh judgement and hatred in them that Yiorgos could only shake his head at. "No, I do not come from such a land. That is partly why I ask you, and you have not yet answered, why you would willingly live with pagans such as these without even attempting to bring them the word of God."
Yiorgos was silent, simply sipping his drink and thinking. Reflecting back on his childhood and young adult years, back in Constantinople. How to explain this to a man for whom anything other than Christianity was, at best, something to be disdained. Something that would destroy souls and needed to be destroyed in turn. He wasn't blind to how the Spanish felt about the Tlaxcalans.
"...'And the Emperor Constantine declared on that day, that all Romans must thank God for our salvation. That we have been given the Promised Land, a glorious Elysia, to live and protect. A reborn Garden of Eden for the Roman People. Those who live among us are noble and untouched by worldly corruption. It is our holy duty to bring the light of Christ to them, to protect them and teach them of civilization'." Yiorgos held a hand up, as Cortés tilted his head and opened his mouth to ask the obvious question.
The Roman continued, speaking from long memory. "'And in the final days of his life, the Saint Constantine did declare that Elsyia is but a part. A part of mythical Arcadia, a land untouched by the worst of men. Where the people live in harmony with nature and do not despoil the land as we had done. As proud Romans, as the men of Christ, it is our solemn vow to preserve this land and her people. Our duty to learn from the People of Arcadia as they learn from us. The light of the Lord shines on this land and our people are the Chosen ones to show his Light to those in the darkness'."
As the Roman trailed off, Cortés frowned. "That is a Bible verse, in form if not in fact."
"Not a verse in any Bible you would find. It is a verse and story that every Roman learns in Church, however." Yirogos gave a small smile, using his free hand to gesture at the Tlaxcalans. "Saint Constantine was wrong about the people, though he never knew of the Aztec or the others who sacrifice their fellow man. Even so, every Roman is taught that the people of Arcadia should be respected and brought to the Lord. In my case, as with my Prince, we understand that such a process will take time. Forcing it on our allies will only make them hate us."
His smile turned into a scowl, while the man shifted his gaze towards where the Aztec capital lay, yet further away.
"And we have far worse threats, far worse peoples, to deal with before we can think about bringing the Lord to our misguided brothers. That is why I accept their lack of faith. Why I can trust them, in spite of our different beliefs."
As well as the fact I am not overtly religious myself. I went to Church and I believe in the Lord, but I will not force that into my interactions with my allies. With my friends. We have more than enough external enemies without internal conflict. I am not blind. They value me highly, but I will never be one of them.
Sipping at his mug once more, Yiorgos leaned back and let Cortés process what he had been told. The Spaniard was arrogant, dismissive, and often pompous. Yet no one could call the man a true fool. Even if he lacked tact and tended to act as he wanted with no real thought for the consequences. He was intelligent, for all that he lacked in tact. That intelligence was thinking over the Roman's words and comparing it to this own experiences. His own biases. Spain was not Rome, for better or for worse, depending on who you asked.
"I believe I see your point." Cortés finally spoke, rubbing at his greying beard. His eyes narrowed in thought. "I do not agree with it, however, I do understand it. You intend on converting the Tlaxcala to Christ once the devil worshippers are dealt with, then?"
"I..." Yiorgos reflected that, perhaps, the Spaniard's biases were just too strong. And he had said that the ultimate goal was to bring Christ to all Arcadia, just...not yet. "...eventually, yes. That is why I try and ensure your men leave things be when they see how the Tlaxcala worship."
Cortés snorted softly, drinking from his own mug. "You can no more stop that than I can accept their beliefs as valid. Still. I will keep my men in line until we take the capital of the devil worshippers."
Accepting the olive branch for what it was, Yiorgos nodded and grabbed a stick from beside the fire. He sketched out a grand city in the dirt, based on what little he truly knew about Tenochtitlan. "I confess to knowing very little about their capital. My Prince accepted peace well before we would have reached it, and none of my raids ever went this deep into their territory. Most of what I know is from the Tlaxcalan elders who have visited the city themselves."
What he knew reflected a city that was, in its own way, as grand as The City herself. Constantinople was certainly larger and the Hagia Sophia would see no challengers. The port where he had grown up, even as retracted as it had become, was magnificent in its size and layout. And he could never forget the Theodosian Walls. Yet what he had been told of Tenochtitlan was as impressive, in its own right. Where it lacked the grand walls, it had canals that would put Venice to shame...or so the Venetians liked to brag, anyway. He had equally never seen Venice. The Aztec city was, judging from the other cities he had seen, likely far more colorful and vibrant. As well as being built on a lake with great bridges and causeways that gave it a lifeline to land, and the kind of defense that made walls such as Constantinople's far less valid.
If the Sophia would accept no challengers from other churches, then the temple at the heart of Tenochtitlan would do the same for pyramids. Or so he had been told, though there were tales of an abandoned city with even more majestic pyramids and the Great Pyramid of Cholula still burned in his mind.[5]
"I see." Cortés nodded along with the secondhand explanation. "It will not be simple to take this by storm. Even with our cannon and horsemen, and your grand host."
Electing to ignore the sarcasm in regards to his friends and allies, Yiorgos nodded. "If the Aztec are at all intelligent, no, it will not. They will sooner burn their bridges and block off their canals than allow us to take it by storm. We may starve them out, we may not. I am unsure how large their army truly is, and how willing they would be to risk my Prince attacking in order to beat us back. And it will take some time for any messenger I send to request aid from the Purépecha to arrive, let alone return."
"Perhaps we should not take it by storm, then. Tell me, Roman. Do you believe the Aztec would be willing to...parley?"
That question actually brought Yiorgos up short. All the more so because it was clear that Cortés was being entirely, deadly, serious. He couldn't...surely not...? The Aztec had been burned by their attempt to do such a thing with the Cappelli Expedition. They would never accept an offer by White Men to enter their very capital. Why should they? Especially men at the head of a host of one of their rebellious subjects. Perhaps the strongest and most dangerous of their subjects, at that. They would never be that...
...ah. So that was it.
"You have no intention of parley." Yiorgos didn't word it as a question, as there was no point. He saw what his Spanish ally- friend was, perhaps, too strong a word -intended. "You must know how great a risk that would be to take, yes?"
Cortés gave a dark smirk, that twisted his square jaw into an expression that would make many a man cringe in concern. "Parley with devil worshippers? Of course not. I am uncomfortable enough with your Tlaxcala and they at least are open to Christ. No." He shook his head, and tapped with his own stick at the symbol of the grand pyramid at the heart of Tenochtitlan. "However, if it were possible to convince them to allow me and my men inside, I could take their palace by storm. Or, perhaps, that would not even be necessary. I could march right up to their King, or whatever they choose to call him, and take him prisoner. They would have no choice but to talk at that point, no?"
Yiorgos could not deny the point, though he felt the plan mad. Neither side would trust the other, nor have any reason to do so. The Aztec hated the White Man after what Demetrios and his 500 had done. After what he had done. He knew how high the bounty on his own head was.
This entire plan was typical Cortés. Bold in thought, lacking in foresight. However...
Hmm.
"I...am unsure if they would be willing to listen. However, the Aztec have some honor, twisted as it is by their terrible faith. They may be willing to at least accept talk. If you tell them that you are willing to train them against my Prince, they may listen." Yiorgos have a mighty shrug, tossing his stick into the faltering fire. It cast shadows on his craggy, aged, face. "I can make no promises. They are just as likely to kill you on the spot and sacrifice you for their gods favor."
With a wave of his hand, Cortés kept his smirk. "Ah, what is life without a little risk? You say we cannot take the city by storm, without great losses. That we can not be sure that even our host can stand against the numbers they may, or may not, bring. This is a time for bold action. And I am not so honorable that I see no use in deception."
"I will lend you a translator, then. Some of my men have learned enough Spanish to speak with your men, and all know the Aztec tongue. I wish you luck, if this is truly what you desire. I would recommend waiting until we see the city from our own eyes, however."
As the two men trailed off again, Yiorgos knew what he was doing. He was using the Spanish as they used him. If Cortés went forward with his plan, the Roman saw nothing but death and destruction in the future. But...perhaps...that would work in his favor. The Spanish could be the bulwark of his force, or they could be a battering ram that caused as much destruction before their deaths as possible. And that would leave the Aztec capital vulnerable to his own, experienced, warriors. Yes.
He knew this deception was damning his soul. But he had long since accepted that. He, for all their faults, loved the Tlaxcala as his own people. And if letting Cortés be a fool saved even a few of his own? Yiorgos would allow it.
Nor was he blind to the fact that similar thoughts ran through the Spaniard's head. Neither of the men truly trusted the other, for all their apparent comradery. They used the other as they had since that godforsaken day of blood in Cholula. It simply remained to be seen who would be the loser and who would come out the victor. Who would shape the future of Mesoarcadia and who would be relegated to the dustbin of history.
As the fire burned out and the men went to bed, they both knew the next day would decide that.
1. The colonization of the great southern continent will be a topic deserving of its own discussions. Suffice it to say that the civilizations of America- most notably the Tawantinsuyu-are just as fascinating as those of Mesoarcadia.
2. Europe in general, and the old homeland of Constantinople in specific, were no more free of conflict than any other part of the world. These will be covered in more detail in later entries, though it is important to note that few reached quite the same level of bloodiness as the Mesoarcadian ones, if only because human sacrifice did not factor in.
3. None of the cities the army passed by or through were even a shadow of the glory of Tenochtitlan. However, they were still proud cities in their own right. And compared to the smaller villages and towns, they were still impressive. Impressive enough that Spanish chroniclers comment on them, though some are more dismissive than others.
4. To this day, a bastardized version of Roman beer remains fairly popular in certain parts of Mesoarcadia. While the average Roman would hold his nose up at it, the drink is popular with the natives. They swear by it in much the same way that colonists of Arcadia would swear by their own variants on, say, German drinks.
5. Teotihuacan, already abandoned for around a thousand years, was still an impressive sight to behold. The great pyramids of the Sun and Moon were, even in their battered and ruined state, grand structures. It is hard to imagine, even for those who resettled the surrounding valley, what they must have looked like in their prime.
AN: ...yeah, I wasn't intending this to take so long. This summer hasn't been particularly enjoyable, both because of the blistering heat and trying to find something to get me by until the school year kicks back into gear. Which it does. Next week. Yeah...this took longer than I wanted.
Hopefully it works well enough, at least. I wanted to cover both the trek through the Aztec lands (in a different way than I did with Demetrios) and show how Yiorgos and Cortés are, arguably, using each other. They don't trust each other. They may not even like each other, beyond a certain mutual respect. And I want to demonstrate that. It's debatable how much Cortés meant his promises to the Tlaxcala and the like, but it is impossible to deny those promises went out the window for the most part once the Spanish properly moved in. And Yiorgos is a hardened man who has no issue in using the Spanish to keep his own people- which he does see the Tlaxcala as, religious issues and Cholula aside -alive.
It's very much shades of grey here. And I wanted to make that apparent, before we get to the fun part.
- Location
- The Old Dominion
Interestingly enough from what I gathered Tlaxcala in RL actually did receive special privileges in new Spain in RL which lasted until Mexico gained their independence which apparently helped to keep them loyal over the centuries.
Beyond Tlaxcala largely remaining intact to this day the Tlaxcaltecs were apparently allowed to hold noble titles, rule their communities autonomously, carry guns and ride horses and apparently were important in New Spain's expansion to the north and in the Spanish conquest of Guatemala.
Its actually sort of surprising given the tendency of the conquistadors though it should be noted I suppose that outside of the Tlaxalatecs who as a people got more privileged treatment than other native groups the Spanish seemed to also largely kept other native noble elites around and incorporated them into a new Mexican elite with both Spanish and native nobles.
Beyond Tlaxcala largely remaining intact to this day the Tlaxcaltecs were apparently allowed to hold noble titles, rule their communities autonomously, carry guns and ride horses and apparently were important in New Spain's expansion to the north and in the Spanish conquest of Guatemala.
Its actually sort of surprising given the tendency of the conquistadors though it should be noted I suppose that outside of the Tlaxalatecs who as a people got more privileged treatment than other native groups the Spanish seemed to also largely kept other native noble elites around and incorporated them into a new Mexican elite with both Spanish and native nobles.
- Location
- Philippines
That was a sterling chapter. Your juxtaposition of Yiorgos and Cortes shows how similar yet how different the two men are. You even gave Cortes some depth of character. He's still a horrible person, but he also gets some nuance to his motives and actions, enough to get some empathy from me, a guy who loathes him. So well done. I am invested in how Cortes' gamble goes, and how history flows from here.
ExNihilo
SPACE!
- Location
- USA
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Interesting how this title changes in what is presumably one quote.
Neruz
Rogue Spiderbanana
- Location
- The Land of Fire and Poison
Human nature being what it is and their opinions of the Aztec being what they are, I expect the answer to this question is very likely to be 'pile on!'
The Spanish were, generally speaking, somewhat less racist towards the natives of Central and South America than people were in North America. Hence why there are a lot more people of native descent in those areas than there are in North America.
Last edited:
Pretty sure another reason was that the plagues that arrived with Columbus hit Meso America first before spreading to the rest of the Americas. Which meant the Meso-americans had more time to recover before European colonists arrived in great numbers. While the east coast of North America had the plagues hit just a few years before large European settlements began. Meaning that early North American settlers (especially the British) arrived at the perfect moment to settle an recently depopulated territory.
I'm not sure that was entirely true, given their extensive caste system that described all the different racial combinations and classes.
Skywalker_T-65
Writer with too many ideas.
- Location
- United States
- Pronouns
- Plural/They/He/Her
As with most things, it very much depends on who and where. Some natives were treated better than others (Tlaxcala) some were treated pretty terribly. As a general rule, the Spanish weren't particularly kind to the natives, even if they had some native nobility as a sop to things.
Neruz
Rogue Spiderbanana
- Location
- The Land of Fire and Poison
Hence why I said somewhat less racist, rather than not racist. The Spanish were absolutely very much of the opinion that the natives were lesser than themselves, but not quite to the same degree as in the North, where the natives were relegated to 'wild animal' status more often than not.
I would argue that in "the north" the reason why you see fewer native peoples left was the purpose behind taking the land. The Spanish were seeking an empire, one that would send them lots of money after subjugating the natives. The English settlers were more interested in settling the land as their own, not becoming overlords. Native Americans would be potentially dangerous unknowns, but also potential allies and trade partners. I don't think the Spanish were inherently any less racist in their dealings in North America.
nkd1325
KNIGHT OF ORANGE
- Location
- AT HIS MAJESTY'S SIDE
Also the fact that there just were far less natives in North America compared to Mexico, Central America, and South America, especially after the disease waves killed some 90% of people in the New World. The closest North America had to the complex civilizations of the Nahuatl and Incans would be the Iroquois. Spain could do the whole conquering and ruling thing because Mexico, Central, and South America had densely populated complex civilizations. English nobles tried to do the same thing in Maryland and other southern states and quickly ran into the problem of there not being enough people to make it work.
Charles Dewitt
A Paladin With No Self Confidence
- Location
- Middle of Nowhere Appalachia
And also Cahokia. Though their civilization collapsed before the Europeans arrived for reasons that aren't very clear. Which is the reason I assume you left them out.
- Location
- The Old Dominion
Hmm though the Mississippians collapsed before contact mound builder cultures in the Mississippi and Ohio River valleys as well the southeast did manage to last into the 17th century before coming to a end with Paramount chiefdoms with rulers that the Spanish, English and French saw as kings and queens.
Zap Rowsdower
Ex-cultist vagrant
- Location
- Bright lights, big city
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Which rather implies that the reason there wasn't a large scale settled civilization in the north for the English to conquer is more "it collapsed from smallpox before the English could actively contact them" than it is "was never there".
I mean, Plymouth was founded on a village that had 90% of its people wiped put literally less than 5 years before they arrived. Squanto was in the area because said village had been his village before being kidnappped.
Its not imply.
Its explict.
- Location
- The Old Dominion
Though not all the English settlements were founded where the natives had been previously lay to waste by epidemics as the native tribes of what is now Virginia and Maryland apparently got less hard hit by the epidemics that swept though after contact.
The Virginia colony which was the first successful English colony in 1607 was founded on the doorstep of the Powtawan Paramount Chiefdom which was a growing power of over thirty tribes who's territory covered over 6,000 square miles which had previously sent the Spanish packing in the 1570s after they had been exploring the region since the 1540s and tried to set up missions in the region.
By 1646 and three wars the Powtawan state was no more with the tribes that once made it up becoming tributaries of the English crown and the population was completely decimated, a major part of which was due to English tactics of launching sudden attacks from the water targeting native settlements with heavily armed and armored men burning the houses, fields, and temples while carrying off all the food which caused mass starvation.
The Virginia colony which was the first successful English colony in 1607 was founded on the doorstep of the Powtawan Paramount Chiefdom which was a growing power of over thirty tribes who's territory covered over 6,000 square miles which had previously sent the Spanish packing in the 1570s after they had been exploring the region since the 1540s and tried to set up missions in the region.
By 1646 and three wars the Powtawan state was no more with the tribes that once made it up becoming tributaries of the English crown and the population was completely decimated, a major part of which was due to English tactics of launching sudden attacks from the water targeting native settlements with heavily armed and armored men burning the houses, fields, and temples while carrying off all the food which caused mass starvation.
Last edited:
That's sad