"I must except, however, the attempt to explore an aqueduct,
which we made together. Within, it was perfectly dark, and we
could not move without candles. The sides were of smooth stones,
about four feet high, and the roof was made by stones lapping
over like the corridors of the buildings. At a short distance
from the entrance, the passage turned to the left, and at a
distance of one hundred and sixty feet it was completely blocked
up by the ruins of the roof which had fallen down."--INCIDENTS OF
TRAVEL IN CHIAPAS.
One day I had been unusually busy in arranging my drawings and forming
them into something like system, and toward evening, had taken my seat,
as I always did, just in front of the large _basso-rilievo_ ornamenting
the main entrance into the corridor of the palace, when Pio approached
me from behind and laid his hand upon my shoulder.
Not having observed his approach, I was startled by the suddenness of
the contact, and sprang to my feet, half in surprise and half in alarm.
He had never before been guilty of such an act of impoliteness, and I
was on the eve of rebuking him for his conduct, when I caught the kind
and intelligent expression of his eye, which at once disarmed me, and
attracted most strongly my attention. Slowly raising his arm, he pointed
with the forefinger of his right hand to the entablature before us and
began to whistle most distinctly, yet most musically, a low monody,
which resembled the cadencial rise and fall of the voice in reading
poetry. Occasionally, his tones would almost die entirely away, then
rise very high, and then modulate themselves with the strictest regard
to rhythmical measure. His finger ran rapidly over the hieroglyphics,
first from left to right, and then from right to left.
In the utmost amazement I turned toward Pio, and demanded what he meant.
Is this a musical composition, exclaimed I, that you seem to be reading?
My companion uttered no reply, but proceeded rapidly with his task. For
more than half an hour he was engaged in whistling down the double
column of hieroglyphics engraved upon the entablature before me. So soon
as his task was accomplished, and without offering the slightest
explanation, he seized my hand and made a signal for me to follow.
Having provided himself with a box of lucifer matches and a fresh
candle, he placed the same implements in my possession, and started in
advance. I obeyed almost instinctively.
We passed into the innermost apartments of _El Palacio_, and approached
a cavernous opening into which Mr. Stephens had descended, and which he
supposed had been used as a tomb.
It was scarcely high enough in the pitch to enable me to stand erect,
and I felt a cool damp breeze pass over my brow, such as we sometimes
encounter upon entering a vault.
Pio stopped and deliberately lighted his candle and beckoned me to do
the same. As soon as this was effected, he advanced into the darkest
corner of the dungeon, and stooping with his mouth to the floor, gave a
long, shrill whistle. The next moment, one of the paving-stones was
raised _from within_, and I beheld an almost perpendicular stone
staircase leading down still deeper under ground. Calling me to his
side, he pointed to the entrance and made a gesture for me to descend.
My feelings at this moment may be better imagined than described. My
memory ran back to the information given me by the Alcalde, that Pio was
a Carib, and I felt confident that he had confederates close at hand.
The Caribs, I well know, had never been christianized nor subdued, but
roved about the adjacent swamps and fastnesses in their aboriginal
state. I had frequently read of terrible massacres perpetrated by them,
and the dreadful fate of William Beanham, so thrillingly told by Mr.
Stephens in his second volume, uprose in my mind at this instant, with
fearful distinctness. But then, thought I, what motive can this poor boy
have in alluring me to ruin? What harm have I done him? Plunder surely
cannot be his object, for he was present when I intrusted all I
possessed to the care of the Alcalde of the village. These
considerations left my mind in equal balance, and I turned around to
confront my companion, and draw a decision from the expression of his
countenance.
One look reassured me at once. A playful smile wreathed his lips, and
lightened over his face a gleam of real benevolence, not unmixed, as I
thought, with pity. Hesitating no longer, I preceded him into those
realms of subterranean night. Down, down, down, I trod, until there
seemed no bottom to the echoing cavern. Each moment the air grew
heavier, and our candles began to flicker and grow dimmer, as the
impurities of the confined atmosphere became more and more perceptible.
My head felt lighter, and began to swim. My lungs respired with greater
difficulty, and my knees knocked and jostled, as though faint from
weakness.
Still there seemed no end to the descent. Tramp, tramp, tramp, I heard
the footsteps of my guide behind me, and I vainly explored the darkness
before. At length we reached a broad even platform, covered over with
the peculiar tiling found among these ruins. As soon as Pio reached the
landing-place, he beckoned me to be seated on the stone steps, which I
was but too glad to do. He at once followed my example, and seemed no
less rejoiced than I that the descent had been safely accomplished.
I once descended from the summit of Bunker Hill Monument, and counted
the steps, from the top to the bottom. That number I made 465. The
estimate of the depth of this cavern, made at the time, led me to
believe that it was nearly equal to the height of that column. But there
was no railing by which to cling, and no friend to interrupt my fall, in
case of accident. _Pio was behind me!_
After I became somewhat rested from the fatigue, my curiosity returned
with tenfold force, and I surveyed the apartment with real pleasure. It
was perfectly circular, and was about fifteen feet in diameter, and ten
feet high. The walls seemed to be smooth, except a close, damp coating
of moss, that age and humidity had fastened upon them.
I could perceive no exit, except the one by which we had reached it.
But I was not permitted to remain long in doubt on this point; for Pio
soon rose, walked to the side of the chamber exactly opposite the
stairs, whistled shrilly, as before, and an aperture immediately
manifested itself, large enough to admit the body of a man! Through this
he crawled, and beckoned me to follow. No sooner had I crept through the
wall, than the stone dropped from above, and closed the orifice
completely. I now found myself standing erect in what appeared to be a
subterranean aqueduct. It was precisely of the same size, with a flat,
cemented floor, shelving sides, and circular, or rather _Aztec-arched_
roof. The passage was not straight, but wound about with frequent
turnings as far as we pursued it.
Why these curves were made, I never ascertained, although afterward I
gave the subject much attention. We started down the aqueduct at a brisk
pace, our candles being frequently extinguished by fresh drafts of air,
that struck us at almost every turn. Whenever they occurred, we paused a
moment, to reillume them, and then hastened on, as silently and swiftly
as before.
After traversing at least five or six miles of this passage,
occasionally passing arched chambers like that at the foot of the
staircase, we suddenly reached the termination of the aqueduct, which
was an apartment the _fac-simile_ of the one at the other end of it.
Here also we observed a stone stairway, and my companion at once began
the ascent. During our journey through the long arched way behind us, we
frequently passed through rents, made possibly by earthquakes, and more
than once were compelled to crawl through openings half filled with
rubbish, sand and stones. Nor was the road dry in all places. Indeed,
generally, the floor was wet, and twice we forded small brooks that ran
directly across the path. Behind us, and before, we could distinctly
hear the water dripping from the ceiling, and long before we reached the
end of the passage, our clothing had been completely saturated. It was,
therefore, with great and necessary caution, that I followed my guide up
the slippery stairs. Our ascent was not so tedious as our descent had
been, nor was the distance apparently more than half so great to the
surface. Pio paused a moment at the head of the stairway, extinguished
his candle, and then requested me by a gesture to do likewise. When this
was accomplished, he touched a spring and the trap-door flew open,
_upwards_. The next instant I found myself standing in a chamber but
dimly lighted from above. We soon emerged into open daylight, and there,
for the first time since the conquest of Mexico by Cortes, the eyes of a
white man rested upon the gigantic ruins of _La Casa Grande_.
These ruins are far more extensive than any yet explored by travelers in
Central America. Hitherto, they have entirely escaped observation. The
natives of the country are not even aware of their existence, and it
will be many years before they are visited by the curious.
But here they were, a solid reality! Frowning on the surrounding gloom
of the forest, and the shadows of approaching night, they stretched out
on every side, like the bodies of dead giants slain in battle with the
Titans.
Daylight was nearly gone, and it soon became impossible to see anything
with distinctness. For the first time, the peculiarity of my lonely
situation forced itself upon my attention. I was alone with the Carib
boy. I had not even brought my side-arms with me, and I know that it was
now too late to make any attempt to escape through the forest. The idea
of returning by the subterranean aqueduct never crossed my mind as a
possibility; for my nerves flinched at the bare thought of the shrill
whistle of Pio, and the mysterious obedience of the stones.
Whilst revolving these unpleasant ideas through my brain, the boy
approached me respectfully, opened a small knapsack that I had not
before observed he carried, and offered me some food. Hungry and
fatigued as I was, I could not eat; the same peculiar smile passed over
his features; he rose and left me for a moment, returned, and offered me
a gourd of water. After drinking, I felt greatly refreshed, and
endeavored to draw my companion into a conversation. But all to no
purpose. He soon fell asleep, and I too, ere long, was quietly reposing
in the depths of the forest.
It may seem remarkable that the ruins of _Casa Grande_ have never been
discovered, as yet, by professional travelers. But it requires only a
slight acquaintance with the characteristics of the surrounding country,
and a peep into the intricacies of a tropical forest, to dispel at once
all wonder on this subject. These ruins are situated about five miles in
a westerly direction from those known as _El Palacio_, and originally
constituted a part of the same city. They are as much more grand and
extensive than those of _El Palacio_ as those are than the remains at
Uxmal, or Copan. In fact, they are gigantic, and reminded me forcibly of
the great Temple of Karnak, on the banks of the Nile. But they lie
buried in the fastnesses of a tropical forest. One half of them is
entombed in a sea of vegetation, and it would require a thousand men
more than a whole year to clear away the majestic groves that shoot up
like sleepless sentinels from court-yard and corridor, send their
fantastic roots into the bedchamber of royalty, and drop their annual
foliage upon pavements where princes once played in their infancy, and
courtiers knelt in their pride. A thousand vines and parasites are
climbing in every direction, over portal and pillar, over corridor and
sacrificial shrine. So deeply shrouded in vegetation are these awful
memorials of dead dynasties, that a traveler might approach within a few
steps of the pyramidal mound, upon which they are built, and yet be
totally unaware of their existence. I cannot convey a better idea of the
difficulties attending a discovery and explanation of these ruins than
to quote what Mr. Stephens has said of _El Palacio_. "The whole country
for miles around is covered by a dense forest of gigantic trees, with a
growth of brush and underwood unknown in the wooded deserts of our own
country, and impenetrable in any direction, except by cutting away with
a machete. What lies buried in that forest it is impossible to say of my
own knowledge. Without a guide we might have gone within a hundred feet
of all the buildings without discovering one of them."
# # # # #
I awoke with a start and a shudder. Something cold and damp seemed to
have touched my forehead, and left a chill that penetrated into my
brain. How long I had been asleep, I have no means of ascertaining; but
judging from natural instinct, I presume it was near midnight when I
awoke. I turned my head toward my companion, and felt some relief on
beholding him just where he had fallen asleep. He was breathing heavily,
and was completely buried in unconsciousness. When I was fully aroused I
felt most strangely. I had never experienced the same sensation but once
before in my whole life, and that was whilst in company with Judge E----
on the stone ramparts of _Castillo Viejo_.
I was lying flat upon my back, with my left hand resting gently on my
naked right breast, and my right hand raised perpendicularly from my
body. The arm rested on the elbow and was completely paralyzed, or in
common parlance, asleep.
On opening my eyes, I observed that the full moon was in mid-heavens,
and the night almost as bright as day. I could distinctly see the
features of Pio, and even noticed the regular rise and fall of his
bosom, as the tides of life ebbed and flowed into his lungs. The huge
old forest trees, that had been standing amid the ruins for unnumbered
centuries, loomed up into the moonshine, hundreds of feet above me, and
cast their deep black shadows upon the pale marbles, on whose fragments
I was reposing.
All at once, I perceived that my hand and arm were in rapid motion. It
rested on the elbow as a fulcrum, and swayed back and forth, round and
round, with great ease and celerity. Perfectly satisfied that it moved
without any effort of my own will, I was greatly puzzled to arrive at
any satisfactory solution of the phenomenon. The idea crossed my mind
that the effect was of _spiritual_ origin, and that I had become
self-magnetized. I had read and believed that the two sides of the human
frame are differently electrified, and the curious phases of the disease
called _paralysis_ sufficiently established the dogma, that one half the
body may die, and yet the other half live on. I had many times
experimented on the human hand, and the philosophical fact had long been
demonstrated, to my own satisfaction, that the inside of the hand is
totally different from the outside. If we desire to ascertain the
temperature of any object, we instinctively touch it with the inside of
the fingers; on the contrary, if we desire to ascertain our own
temperature, we do so by laying the back of the hand upon some isolated
and indifferent object. Convinced, therefore, that the right and left
sides of the human body are differently magnetized, I was not long in
finding a solution of the peculiar phenomenon, which at first
astonished me so greatly. In fact, my body had become an electrical
machine, and by bringing the two poles into contact, as was affected by
linking my right and left sides together, by means of my left hand, a
battery had been formed, and the result was, the paralysis or
magnetization of my right arm and hand, such being precisely the effect
caused by a _spiritual circle_,--as it has been denominated. My arm and
hand represented, in all respects, a table duly charged, and the same
phenomenon could be produced, if I was right in my conjectures.
Immediately, therefore, I set about testing the truth of this
hypothesis. I asked, half aloud, if there were any spirits present. My
hand instantly closed, except the forefinger, and gave three distinctive
jerks that almost elevated my elbow from its position. A negative reply
was soon given to a subsequent question by a single jerk of the hand;
and thus I was enabled to hold a conversation in monosyllables with my
invisible companions.
It is unnecessary to detail the whole of the interview which followed. I
will only add that portion of it which is intimately connected with this
narrative. Strange as it may appear, I had until this moment forgotten
all about the beautiful apparition that appeared and disappeared so
mysteriously at _Castillo Viejo_. All at once, however, the recollection
revived, and I remembered the promise contained in the single word she
murmured, "Palenque!"
Overmastering my excitement, I whispered:
"Beautiful spirit, that once met me on the ramparts where Lord Nelson
fought and conquered, art thou here?"
An affirmative reply.
"Will you appear and redeem your promise?"
Suddenly, the branches of the neighboring trees waved and nodded; the
cold marbles about me seemed animated with life, and crashed and struck
each other with great violence; the old pyramid trembled to its centre,
as if shaken by an earthquake; and the forest around moaned as though a
tempest was sweeping by. At the same instant, full in the bright
moonlight, and standing within three paces of my feet, appeared the
Aztec Princess, whose waving _panache_, flowing garments and benignant
countenance had bewildered me many months before, on the moss-grown
parapet of _Castillo Viejo_.