IZAMAL EN ROUTE FOR CHICHEN.
Expedition to Izamal and
Chichen-Itza—Brigands—Cacalchen—Market Place—Great
Pyramid—Small Pyramid and Colossal Decorative
Figures—Cemented Roads—The Convent of the Virgin at Izamal—A
Precarious Telegraph—Tunkas—Garrison—Quintana-Roo—An Old
Acquaintance—Citas—A Fortified Church—Troops—Opening a
Path—Native Entertainment—Arrival at Pisté.
Our expedition to Izamal and Chichen was a somewhat serious
undertaking: we required a large number of hands for our work in
mid-forest; we should have to camp out for three weeks at least,
removed from all human habitation; finally a military escort, fifty
strong, was deemed necessary to secure us against a sudden attack from
the revolted natives, respecting whom alarming rumours of pillaging
were afloat. Our heavy baggage had been sent on, and armed with
twelve-shot Winchesters, and provided with letters from the Governor
for the officers in command of the district garrisons which were
to supply the escort, we started on January 4th, travelling over a
monotonous, dusty, abominable road. Our drivers, however, were such
good whips, that we went over the distance in no time.
There is hardly a soul to be met on the road, save at rare intervals
some carts loaded with henequen; some natives returning from the next
village, the women veiling their faces or turning their backs upon us
at our approach; now a company of reserve on their way to the front or
homeward-bound, for the borders are strictly guarded against a _coup de
main_ from the revolted natives.
We stop at Cacalchen; for our early start, the crisp morning air, and
the jolting of the road, have sharpened our appetites. We breakfast
under a shaded verandah opening into a central court planted with
cocoa-trees. We are waited upon by a very pretty Meztiza, whose fair
complexion, rosy mouth, large black eyes, and exquisite figure, are
shown to the utmost advantage in her transparent _uipil_, doing her
work with simple, quiet grace, while her presence and her bewitching
smile seem to light up the whole place. What dish would not have tasted
sweet, offered by her shapely hands?
Izamal, where we arrive at three o’clock, is an important place
numbering some five or six thousand souls. It looks beautifully white,
for it has just undergone its annual cleaning, when every building is
whitewashed in honour of the patron saint.
It has been urged by some writers that the civilisation of Yucatan and
Tabasco belonged to a remote past; but these writers often speak from
mere hearsay, accepting everything without the slightest criticism;
their accounts, however valuable, are filled with uncertainties, are
often obscure and contradictory, so that they may be made to square
with the idiosyncrasy of all or any particular man. Consequently the
difficulties in arriving at the truth are almost insuperable, unless
it is one who has visited the regions he writes upon, studied the
monuments, collated ethnographical documents, compared the various
manners and customs, fitting himself to catch a word or a sentence
which from time to time shoots across the darkness of their undigested
narratives, and correcting with their help errors with which they
abound. But the general neglect by ancient writers of monuments which
everywhere met their gaze makes me unjust, while our gratitude is due
to such industrious writers as Bernal Diaz, Sahagun, Torquemada, and
many more.
Izamal, like many other places in the peninsula, was built on the
site of an Indian city; here, as elsewhere, the chief care of the
Spaniards was to destroy alike palaces, temples, and written documents,
bidding the natives forget their ancient traditions. Landa, who wrote
forty-five years after the Conquest (1566), speaks of the edifices at
Izamal as twelve in number, adding that the founders were unknown;
whilst Lizana, sixty years later (1626), with fewer opportunities for
collecting legends, gives their history in full, together with the
Indian names and their signification; but unfortunately in his time the
monuments had dwindled down to five.
Landa, as we have remarked, says these monuments are of unknown origin,
yet in another place he affirms they are the work of the existing race,
since he writes: “_Among the remains of monuments which were destroyed
are found fragments of human figures and other decorations, such as
the natives make even now with very hard cement._” He further mentions
having found in a tomb “_stone ornaments artistically wrought, similar
to the currency in present use among the natives_.”
At Merida he demolished an Indian temple, which crowned the upper
part of the great mound, giving a ground plan and describing it as
“built with square blocks, beautifully carved, and of such height as
to produce a feeling of awe in the beholder” (its real height is 80
feet); thus proving the monument to have been entire when he wrote.
Nevertheless it is from an assertion such as this that judgment has
been passed on the monuments, and from documents like the Perez
manuscript that a chronology has been deduced. The monuments are
imposing, no doubt, to judge from the few that remain; but we should
err if, following Landa and others, we pronounced them “colossal,
gigantic, magnificent, to which nothing in the world can be compared.”
The whole extent of the Yucatec monuments would not represent in
cubic metres the works achieved in Paris during the last twenty-five
years; consequently they should be viewed as the unpretending outcome
of a semi-civilised people, and this estimate need not lessen their
interest, while the mysterious silence which surrounds them forms a
void in the history of the human race.
The great mound to the north is called _Kinich-Kakmó_, “The Sun’s face
with fiery rays,” from an idol which stood in the temple crowning
its summit. The monument consists of two parts: the basement, nearly
650 feet, surmounted by an immense platform, and the small pyramid
to the north. “Great veneration was felt for the idol or deity of
Kinich-Kakmó, and in times of public calamity, the entire population
flocked to this shrine with peace-offerings, when at mid-day a fire
descended and consumed the sacrifice, in the presence of the assembled
multitude. Then the officiating priest notified the will of the
deity whether for good or for evil, and prophesied more or less the
secret longings of their hearts: but as they could not always guess
aright, it not unfrequently happened that their expectations were not
fulfilled.”[114]
[Illustration: GREAT PYRAMID, KINICH-KAKMÓ, AT IZAMAL.]
Facing this to the south was another great mound, known as
_Ppapp-Hol-Chac_, “the House of Heads and Lightning,” the priest’s
house, presumably similar to those still standing in various towns
of Yucatan. The upper portion of this pyramid was levelled down, and
on its lower platform was erected the Franciscan church and convent.
The third pyramid to the east supported a temple dedicated to
_Izamat-Ul_, _Izamna_, or _Zamna_, the great founder of the ancient
Maya empire. “To him were brought,” says Lizana, “the sick, the halt,
and the dead, and he healed and restored them all to life by the touch
of his hand;” hence the appellation _Kab-Ul_, the Miraculous Hand,
applied to him.[115] He is often represented by a hand only, which
recalled him to the memory of his worshippers. His other names are the
Strong, the Mighty Hand, the Long-handed Chief, who wrote the code of
the Toltecs, and as such has been identified with Quetzalcoatl, with
whom he shared the government; he conducting the civil power, whilst
Quetzalcoatl, the virgin-born deity, looked after the spiritual.[116]
“The temple in which these miracles were performed, was much
frequented; for this reason four good roads had been constructed,
leading to Guatemala, Chiapas, and Tabasco. Traces of them can even now
be seen in various places.”[117] We also have found marks of a cemented
road, from Izamal to the sea facing the island of Cozumel.
[Illustration: SOUTH SIDE OF HUNPICTOK PYRAMID AT IZAMAL, AFTER
STEPHENS.]
Lastly the fourth pyramid to the west, which is shown in our cut of
the market-place, had on its summit the palace of _Hunpictok_, “the
commander-in-chief of eight thousand flints.” On its side near the
basement, consisting of stones laid without mortar, and rounded off
at the corners like those of the Aké pyramid, stood the gigantic face
reproduced by Stephens, but which has since disappeared. This head is
so interesting that I cannot deprive the reader of the description
given by the American traveller: “It is 7 feet 8 inches high. The
features were first rudely formed by small rough stones, fixed in the
side of the mound by means of mortar, and afterwards perfected with
stucco so hard that it has successfully resisted the action of air and
water for centuries.”[118] The stone forming the chin alone measures 1
foot 6 inches; the figure has enormous moustachios, and a resemblance
may be traced to the gigantic faces in stone at Copan, where the
plaster has crumbled away and left the stone bare. The resemblance to
the Aké pyramids is remarkable and leads us to conclude that the latter
were decorated in the same manner. Here also on the east side is found
the figure shown in our cut, from which may be traced the builder’s
mode of working.
This colossal head is 13 feet high; the eyes, nose, and under-lip were
first formed by rough stones coated over with mortar; the ornaments to
the right and left were obtained by the same means; the latter are the
best preserved, while double spirals, symbols of wind or speech, may
be seen, similar to those in Mexico, at Palenque and Chichen-Itza. On
the western side of this pyramid, which has been cleared towards the
basement, we discovered one of the finest bas-reliefs it has been our
fortune to see in Yucatan. Its principal subject is a crouching tiger
with a human head and retreating forehead, less exaggerated than those
at Palenque, beautifully moulded, and reminding us of the orders of
knighthood in which the tiger had the pre-eminence; nor could a better
device be imagined for the house of the commander-in-chief at Izamal.
To conclude, these documents, which would be a dead letter to one who
had not followed the various migrations from north to south, enable
us to reconstruct here also a Toltec centre. It may be noted that if
numerous monuments are still found in Yucatan, their existence is due
to the small number of Spaniards settled in these regions at the time
of the Conquest, and more especially to their being at a distance from
the centres occupied by the conquerors.
[Illustration: COLOSSAL HEAD FORMING BASEMENT OF PYRAMID AT IZAMAL.]
Through the whole length and breadth of Anahuac both monuments and
cities have entirely disappeared; for the Spaniards were not satisfied
with destroying all that reminded them of a former polity, they were
also careful to infuse into their young disciples a profound horror
for their former religion, while they trained children to report any
word or deed they observed in their parents or priests which savoured
of their ancient customs. Thanks to these measures, everything that
could recall the past to the rising generation was soon blotted out
from the Indian mind. But however dilapidated the monuments we observe
at Izamal, they prove that there was here a great population at the
time of the Conquest; and this being admitted, it follows that their
destruction is comparatively recent, due mainly to civil wars, dating a
few years before the arrival of the Spaniards.
As for the Perez manuscript, which was written by a native from memory
long after the Conquest, purporting to be the faithful rendering of
legends handed down from mouth to mouth, in a particular family, it
adds nothing to our knowledge, throws no light on the question which
perplexes us. The narrative begins from 144 A.D., and goes on to
1560 A.D.; but is it possible to admit seriously the authority of an
account so obtained, extending over so many centuries? At the time of
its publication all the natives had preserved was a dubious legend;
and traditions fared hardly better with the caciques and nobles fallen
from their high estate, than they did with the common people, for “the
former were often reduced,” says Cogolludo, “to the extreme of poverty;
and forty years after the Conquest (1582) the royal descendants of
Tutulxiu, and the princely house of Mayapan, were obliged to work for
their living like the humblest amongst their ancient subjects.”[119]
[Illustration: MARKET PLACE OF IZAMAL.]
This picture, sad as it is, became even worse a few years later, when
the conquerors had reduced the whole population to a state of hard
bondage. The only difference of any importance between the Perez
manuscript and the narratives of Clavigero, Veytia, and Ixtlilxochitl,
is in the chronology, which is far too absurd for any serious
consideration, for while the latter gives the seventh century as
the date of the arrival of the Toltecs at Tula, and their subsequent
migration in Central America at the end of the eleventh and the
beginning of the twelfth century; with the former they leave Tula in
144 A.D., and arrive in Yucatan in 217 A.D., nearly five hundred years
before the generally accepted date of their arrival at Tula. Moreover
he calls Yucatan an island, although the new-comers had penetrated the
country through Tabasco and the south without crossing the sea, clearly
indicating that it was a peninsula.
The church of Izamal is very fine, but its chief attraction in the eyes
of the natives is a statue of the Virgin. Its story runs thus:
A celebrated artist of Guatemala received an order from the towns of
Izamal and Merida respectively, for two statues of the Virgin; in
their transit, which took place in the rainy season, neither the case
containing the images, nor the men conveying them, got a drop of rain.
Valladolid, jealous that so small a place as Izamal should possess this
fine statue, came in great force and carried it off, but the image
proved stronger than all those men put together, for it became so heavy
that it had to be abandoned at the outskirts of the little town. The
miracle was followed by a great many more, so that the Izamal Virgin
was soon the most celebrated in the peninsula, attracting as many
pilgrims as did formerly _Kab-Ul_, of the Miraculous Hand.
We set off at five in the morning for Valladolid, to avoid the
overpowering heat of the day; indeed, all traffic between May and
September in these tropical regions is done by night, for the greater
comfort of both man and beast. We watch the sun rise in the east, but
far from enlivening the scene, it seems only to bring out in stronger
relief the desolateness of the landscape. A few carts with natives on
their way home shivering with the night cold, a wretched tumbledown
hamlet called Stilipech, is all we notice on our route; and indeed we
have much to do with keeping our seats in these _volan cochés_, which
rattle along at so furious a pace on these atrocious roads, as to make
us wonder what power keeps them from being smashed to pieces.
I had had suspicion during my stay at Merida as to Yucatan having any
postal or telegraphic administration, for a number of my telegrams were
left unanswered, and my inquiries were met with the evasive reply that
the line was not in good order. That such was the case I could now
plainly see for myself. A wire which skirted the wood had indeed been
laid, but having no poles or insulators it trusted to fate to get fixed
now and again to a branch or a tree, which, bending with the breeze,
allowed it to trail among the rocks or get entangled in the brambles.
Wonderful to relate, a message sometimes reached its destination; a
great step forward as compared to Tabasco, where no sooner is the wire
laid than it is purloined by the inhabitants, who, it seems, find
it useful. But our _volan_ suddenly stops, and the driver draws our
attention to an important cenoté known as Xcolac, shaded by beautiful
trees and full of fish. On its banks a number of Indians are filling
their gourds to the brim, and with simple grace offer us a drink of
its cool, fresh pure water. It argues strange apathy in the natives
that in a country where water is so scarce, a hamlet or hacienda should
not have been erected around it. We re-enter our _cochés_ and reach
Tumbras, formerly a flourishing place, about eleven o’clock; it was
burnt down during the civil wars and has not been rebuilt. We alight
before a decent-looking house, having a tienda stocked with salt,
tobacco, wine, liqueurs, preserves, sardines, and American hams. For
whom are all these good things? I was going to ask, when I recollected
that a garrison is stationed here.
Our host, a fat, red-faced man, receives us with a profusion of
smiles, putting “everything in his house at our feet.” Warned by sad
experience, feeling, moreover, as hungry as schoolboys after a game
of cricket, we stammered out for the usual “portion” in the shortest
possible delay, but what was our agreeable surprise to find a _menu_
consisting of strong clear soup, a sardine omelette, beefsteak, French
beans, wine, English beer, and excellent coffee!
[Illustration: CENOTÉ OF XCOLAC.]
Meanwhile the commander, who had received instructions with regard to
our mission, came in just as we were sitting down; he was immediately
invited to join our party, which he did with alacrity, for the life of
an officer quartered in this out-of-the-way place, without a soul to
speak to from year’s end to year’s end, whose sole business consists
in the morning and evening parades, or giving the order of the day,
must be indescribably monotonous and trying in the extreme.
The presence of our _volan_ has set the village in motion; soon a
number of people are seen crossing the deserted plaza in our direction:
some are old and decrepit, and all look as though they could hardly
stand on their rickety legs, for the able-bodied men are in the fields
preparing the _milpa_, cleaning the ground for the sowing of Indian
corn. They invade the tienda, peering into our room; the boldest
advances with rolling gait, to have a nearer view of our group,
delivering himself of a little speech in the Maya tongue, presumably
indiscreet, to judge by the amused smiles of the company. The
commandant desires him to leave the room, but he refuses, and has to be
ejected by the united efforts of two orderlies.
Refreshed with our excellent luncheon, our pleasant chat, and last, not
least, a respite from the too lively _coché_, we set out, and do not
stop again until we reach Quintana-Roo, sometimes used as a basis by
the revolted natives in their expeditions, whence they sallied forth
for their _razzias_, carrying off the women, and massacring the men,
except in the rare instances when a large ransom might be looked for;
this, however, did not always save the poor wretch, who, his money
being paid, was ruthlessly butchered by these savages.
Quintana is about as small a place as can be conceived, consisting of
one small fort garrisoned by twelve men, and one house; in the landlord
of the latter I recognise my old guide, who in 1859 accompanied me
to Chichen. My old acquaintance is now a prosperous man, with a nice
house, a tienda and poultry-yard well stocked, while a comely wife,
lovely children, and pretty Meztizas, attend to the business of
the household and enliven it. My friend insists on our having some
chocolate, and wishes to be again our guide to Chichen. I am delighted,
and with expressions of mutual regard we take leave of this charming
family, _en route_ for Citas, where we arrive so late in the evening
that everybody had given us up, so that nothing had been prepared, and
the people did not seem inclined to bestir themselves for us. No house
or room was to be had. It was fortunately holiday time; the school-room
was placed at our disposal, in which we at once deposited our camp-beds
and other paraphernalia. The next thing was how to get something to
eat, and we should have gone supperless to bed, if the magistrate
and the mayor had not kindly interfered in our behalf, and partly by
coaxing, partly by the weight of their authority, induced the people to
bring out the contents of their larder.
Here we leave the _volan_ for saddle-horses, mules, and _tamenes_,
for our next stage is through thick woods right across country. Our
preparations take a good deal of time; horses are scarce and have to
come some distance, while _tamenes_ must be brought down from their
extravagant prices before we can think of engaging them. The same
difficulties have beset us everywhere; the natives deeming fair game
any one so insane or ridiculous as to come from distant lands to view
some crumbling stones; of course he has more money than he knows what
to do with, and it is only common justice to ease him of some of his
surplus. We despatch our men a day in advance to open the way through
the woods, while we tarry to witness a _jardana_, native dance, to
which an invitation in due form, that we “would honour the same with
our presence,” has been received.
“What, you dance here?” I exclaimed on first hearing of it; “but you
told me that your life and property were continually threatened; that
you never knew when you lay down at night whether you would not be
massacred by your revolted countrymen, ere another day dawned.”
“That’s quite true,” answered my servant, “but we dance for all that,
and as often as we have the opportunity. Why should we neglect to cull
the few flowerets growing on the short, dreary path of our life?”
I confess that I was not prepared for so much philosophy in such a
place, and from such a man, savouring of a _ci-devant_ at the time of
the Convention rather than of a half-savage.
The streets of Citas might not improperly be called ridges of rock
divided by minute precipices, down which, however, a stranger may break
his neck. To avoid so great a calamity, we set out holding on to two
native guides by means of ropes tied round our waist, for the night is
pitch dark, and the distance to the _jardana_ some 500 yards.
The house in which the entertainment is given wears a poor appearance.
Three huge fires are burning, round which stand women busy with
roasting and otherwise preparing the feast with chickens, turkeys,
pork, etc.; whilst outside, other women are kneeling before _metates_,
or, _comals_ in hand, prepare tortillas to be served hot during the
whole “fiesta.” A little in front is a thatched barn, lighted by
smoking lamps, which forms the ball-room, with benches and chairs
against the walls for the ladies, while in the centre the men dancers
in white hose, flowing shirt, and loose coloured neckties, are
meditating on whom their choice may fall with any chance of success.
The whole village, Indians and Meztizos, are here to-night, but hardly
any _Ladinos_ or whites.
Every traveller who has witnessed these native dances, has described
them as entrancing; for my part I confess that I find them devoid of
attraction: the performers, without grace or animation, move gravely
on one spot, without looking at or touching their partners, going
round them as they would a pole, to the sound of very primitive and
monotonous music.
“It is an Indian who gives the entertainment,” said my friend the
judge. “It will last several days, or rather several nights, and cost
at least sixty pounds, which to a native is a fortune—ruination in
fact—but he will not care, and after him another will be found to take
up the ball, and so on to the end of time.”
“But what happens afterwards?”
“Oh, nothing happens; they’ll go to their _milpas_ as before; if the
harvest is good they will lay by a little in view of another party
when their turn comes round; if it is a bad year, they’ll pinch; if a
famine, they’ll starve. Care never sits behind an Indian, and as for
the lessons of experience, they seem incapable of learning them.”
In these entertainments may be traced the customs of the ancient
Indians which are unconsciously kept up by their descendants. We
read in Landa: “They often spent in one banquet what they had been a
long time earning with difficulty. Banquets were of two kinds: those
given by the caciques and great nobles to their friends for the mere
pleasure of showing their hospitality, when they expected to be asked
in return. The table on all such occasions was well provided with
meats, game, vegetables, and fruit of every kind, and at the conclusion
of the entertainment, the guests were presented with rich dresses and
ornaments, when they withdrew after midnight.” “If one died before the
debt of his obligation had been paid, the duty fell to his family. Next
came the occasions when a marriage occurred in a family, or when the
illustrious deeds of an ancestor were celebrated by the whole clan. On
such occasions the necessity of returning the banquet was not enforced;
but if a person belonging to another family had been asked, he was
expected to invite them all again when he married.”[120]
[Illustration: CHURCH AND SQUARE, CITAS.]
There is positively nothing worthy of remark with regard to our road,
save here and there a palm or cedar-tree towering like a giant over
the thick underwood overrun with flowering lianas, peopled with great
sky-blue butterflies, whose wings are tipped with black; for the whole
country to the east and south of Citas is a vast scene of desolation.
Pisté, where we arrive, stands on the extreme border of the state; it
has been so often sacked and burnt by the revolted natives, that the
only building left is the church, occupied by a company of twenty-five
men. It looks a forsaken, God-forgotten place, a veritable exile for
the small garrison quartered here in turn for three months in the year;
not that there is any immediate danger, for the natives, who first
rose to conquer their liberties, fell to massacring from a spirit of
revenge, and now only take the field for the sake of plunder. We have
nothing to tempt their cupidity, consequently our escort of fifty men
is a measure of prudence rather than of necessity.
[Illustration: EL CASTILLO OF CHICHEN-ITZA.]