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Ortiz the musician
by Nestor Guestrin,
winner of the Concurso Hamlet Lima Quintana 2002
I, Ortiz, named Diego, Pedro, Alonso, or whatever you wish, born
in whichever
place in Spain that catches your fancy, have come to tell you,
what my commerade-in-
arms, the fine chronicler of "The True History of the Conquest
of New Spain", don
Bernal Diaz del Castillo, omitted in his writings, and not to
contradict him, for very well
said is what there is recounted, but to complement and clarify
what is said of my person,
as very passingly I'm mentioned as musician and great player of
the vihuela.
Its true what there is said, that other chroniclers wrote from
hearsay what
occured in New Spain, and therefore were wrong in much of what
really happened,
perhaps to exessively honour or compliment our captain don
Hernan Cortez, Marquis of
the Vale of Oaxaca, or for personal interest, or simply
ignorance of what reallyhappened. But there is more which moves me
to write this; and its to confirm, that I was
the carrier of that, of which he congratulated me, and for which
I don't need to merit
neither repentance, nor pardon; in contrast to my comrades, who
answering for plenty
will have to ask for it, now that only the ambition of gold and
riches conducted them.
I brought with my belongings a four-course vihuela, and
afterwards, in moments
of repose, I built one of six courses, as used in court, and
with it I played, sang and
danced. I was known more for my music than for my fighting. And
my art is more
recognized than my fearlessness.
Of the five-hundred and some soldiers who initiated this
adventure, and of the
very few who remain to tell it, I was the one, who on the days
of feast, on the nights of
sorrow, on the encounters with strange peoples, accompanied and
taught dances and
rondas, sang villancicos and romances, songs and villanescas,
played tientos and
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fantasias, pavanes and galliards, and even animated myself to
make diminutions to
some theme of the great Josquin.
With this said, I will not excuse, what was done with my sword;
and my horse,
which also was one of the first to tread firm land, and being
the best of all, as is said by
Bernal, and which afterwards I gave to Cortez when his died; but
what is already done
thus remains, and I had to use them, to save my life, in order
to conquer land for our
master, the emperor don Carlos and to turn into vassals the
indians who inhabited it.
I had neither the time, nor the paper, nor the necessary
knowledge, to write in
tablature, what inspiration dictated to me at any given moment,
and the music that I
composed, went undone in thin air at the moment of making it,
only my memory being
able to recreate it, and when it ends, my music will finish in
oblivion, something I
greatly lament. But I believe, that those who heard it, and
those to whom I taught my
art, will repeat it, adding of their own, to which they have the
right; and in that way, it
will continue being transmitted from one to the other, lasting
in time although
anonymous, those songs, rhythms and melodies which I brought to
this earth. And I also
hope that it will reach the cultivated and knowledgeable ears of
someone who will write
it down on paper, better diminuted and embellished with good
ornaments, and why not,
in majestical counterpoint in the way of the greats like the
ones coming from the Low
Countries. And that will be my legacy.
That I participated in the battles, is true. That my sword
sprinkled the land with
blood, also. That I enamoured beautiful indian girls, yes, for
certain. And I looked death
in the eye more than once. Also that I was able to obtain some
gold, a few jewels and
good rugs, but quickly lost them, which I don't regret. I was
also able to make indian
friends, aplenty. Some, approached me surprized, when hearing
for the first time these
gut-strings played sometimes by my fingers, other times with the
plectrum, and also
stricken with a bow I once made. And I felt like that Luis de
Milan, who is now very
famous at court in Madrid, or like the granadine Narvaez, for
certain very able
musicians, and who have succeeded in putting their pieces
written in tablature
reproduced by this new invention of musical printing of wich
I've heard something.
From here, in the Indies, it proves highly difficult to achieve
what they have done.
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I listened to the indian drums, which they call huehuetl,
advertising the wars
they gave us, and the teponastli when they invoked Huichilobos
and Macuilxochitl. I
saw, how they used the large leg-bone of their victims, which
they sacrificed to make
graters which they call omicikahuastli, and I saw them dance to
the rhythm of rattles
they call akayastli cayatl. All that I saw, and more. And while
I saw and heard this,
which I never had before, also they, the indians, were
astonished, not so much by our
fifes and drums, which we sounded in battle, sounds which they
produced better with
their own instruments, but by the sweetness I brought forth from
my vihuela. And thus I
won them over better, for the sound of the strings was to them
attractive and novel, and
the hearts which were not subdued by the sword, were done so by
these.
And I wish to remember some things I experienced, which I hold
in good
memory and they are agreable to tell, and give pleasure to
recount. While in Cempoal
one day, the fat cacique, whom Bernal so often mentions, came
around. Looking at my
hands, and then passing his over the strings of my vihuela, he
said a few words, which
dona Marina, our interpreter, translated thus: "You have magic,
teul, more than the
horses, for with this you can enchant the soul like no one".
And Montezuma himself, grand master of Mexico, when we had him
as prisoner
in his city, listened with great attention and sentiment to what
I played. And he was
moved in such a way, that on one occasion, with great affection,
he made me the gift of
a golden necklace, and a weight of fine rugs in gratitude for my
music. But let us leave
that, for it holds little importance now, at this level of my
life, and lets just say, in this
brief tale, that no more needs to be said, but to put things in
their right place. We
brought to this land the sword and with it, fear, we brought the
word, and with it the lie,
we brought the body, and with it the measels and the pox, we
brought the horse, and
with it they took away the gold. But only I, of whom don Bernal
Diaz del Castillo, in his
chronicle of the true history of the conquest of New Spain says:
"and there was one
Ortiz, a great player of the vihuela, and he taught to dance",
and that I brought the best
horse, and I didn't die among the indians, as is said there, but
continue living with them.
I Ortiz, say thus: I brought the vihuela and the music, and with
it, joy.
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