CHAPTER XII.
1522—1547.
The royal commission, of which we have spoken in the last chapter, was speedily borne to New Spain, where it was joyfully received by all who had participated in the conquest or joined the original forces since that event. Men not only recognized the justice of the act, but they felt that if the harvest was rightfully due to him who had planted the seed, it was also most probable that no one could be found in Spain or the Islands more capable than Cortéz of consolidating the new empire. Velasquez, the darling object of whose latter years had been to circumvent, entrap or foil the conqueror, was sadly stricken by the defeat of his machinations. The reckless but capable soldier, whom he designed to mould into the pliant tool of his avarice and glory, had suddenly become his master. Wealth, renown, and even royal gratitude, crowned his labors; and the disobedience, the errors, and the flagrant wrongs he was charged with whilst subject to gubernatorial authority, were passed by in silence or forgotten in the acclamation that sounded his praise throughout Spain and Europe. Even Fonseca,—the chief of the council,—had been unable to thwart this darling of genius and good fortune. Velasquez, himself, was nothing. The great error of his life had been in breaking with Cortéz before he sailed for Mexico. He was straitened in fortune, foiled in ambition, mocked by the men whose career of dangerous adventure he had personally failed to share; and, at last, disgusted with the time and its men, he retired to brood over his melancholy reverses until death soon relieved him of his earthly jealousies and annoyances.
