Mythology of the Maya
Our knowledge of the mythology of the Maya is by no means so full and
comprehensive as in the case of Mexican mythology. Traditions are
few and obscure, and the hieroglyphic matter is closed to us. But
one great mine of Maya-Kiche mythology exists which furnishes us
with much information regarding Kiche cosmogony and pseudo-history,
with here and there an interesting allusion to the various deities
of the Kiche pantheon. This is the Popol Vuh, a volume in which a
little real history is mingled with much mythology. It was composed
in the form in which we now possess it by a Christianised native
of Guatemala in the seventeenth century, and copied in Kiche, in
which it was originally written, by one Francisco Ximenes, a monk,
who also added to it a Spanish translation.
The Lost "Popol Vuh"
For generations antiquarians interested in this wonderful compilation
were aware that it existed somewhere in Guatemala, and many were the
regrets expressed regarding their inability to unearth it. A certain
Don Felix Cabrera had made use of it early in the nineteenth century,
but the whereabouts of the copy he had seen could not be discovered. A
Dr. C. Scherzer, of Austria, resolved, if possible, to discover it, and
paid a visit to Guatemala in 1854 for that purpose. After a diligent
search he succeeded in finding the lost manuscript in the University
of San Carlos in the city of Guatemala. Ximenes, the copyist, had
placed it in the library of the convent of Chichicastenango, whence
it passed to the San Carlos library in 1830.
Genuine Character of the Work
Much doubt has been cast upon the genuine character of the Popol Vuh,
principally by persons who were almost if not entirely ignorant of the
problems of pre-Columbian history in America. Its genuine character,
however, is by no means difficult to prove. It has been stated that
it is a mere réchauffé of the known facts of Maya history coloured by
Biblical knowledge, a native version of the Christian Bible. But such
a theory will not stand when it is shown that the matter it contains
squares with the accepted facts of Mexican mythology, upon which the
Popol Vuh throws considerable light. Moreover, the entire work bears
the stamp of being a purely native compilation, and has a flavour of
great antiquity. Our knowledge of the general principles of mythology,
too, prepares us for the unqualified acceptance of the material of the
Popol Vuh, for we find there the stories and tales, the conceptions
and ideas connected with early religion which are the property of no
one people, but of all peoples and races in an early social state.
Likeness to other Pseudo-Histories
We find in this interesting book a likeness to many other works of
early times. The Popol Vuh is, indeed, of the same genre and class
as the Heimskringla of Snorre, the history of Saxo Grammaticus,
the Chinese history in the Five Books, the Japanese Nihongi, and
many other similar compilations. But it surpasses all these in pure
interest because it is the only native American work that has come
down to us from pre-Columbian times.
The name "Popol Vuh" means "The Collection of Written Leaves," which
proves that the book must have contained traditional matter reduced
to writing at a very early period. It is, indeed, a compilation of
mythological character, interspersed with pseudo-history, which, as
the account reaches modern times, shades off into pure history and
tells the deeds of authentic personages. The language in which it was
written, the Kiche, was a dialect of the Maya-Kiche tongue spoken at
the time of the conquest in Guatemala, Honduras, and San Salvador,
and still the tongue of the native populations in these districts.
The Creation-Story
The beginning of this interesting book is taken up with the Kiche
story of the creation, and what occurred directly subsequent to that
event. We are told that the god Hurakan, the mighty wind, a deity in
whom we can discern a Kiche equivalent to Tezcatlipoca, passed over the
universe, still wrapped in gloom. He called out "Earth," and the solid
land appeared. Then the chief gods took counsel among themselves as to
what should next be made. These were Hurakan, Gucumatz or Quetzalcoatl,
and Xpiyacoc and Xmucane, the mother and father gods. They agreed
that animals should be created. This was accomplished, and they next
turned their attention to the framing of man. They made a number
of mannikins carved out of wood. But these were irreverent and
angered the gods, who resolved to bring about their downfall. Then
Hurakan (The Heart of Heaven) caused the waters to be swollen, and
a mighty flood came upon the mannikins. Also a thick resinous rain
descended upon them. The bird Xecotcovach tore out their eyes, the
bird Camulatz cut off their heads, the bird Cotzbalam devoured their
flesh, the bird Tecumbalam broke their bones and sinews and ground
them into powder. Then all sorts of beings, great and small, abused
the mannikins. The household utensils and domestic animals jeered at
them, and made game of them in their plight. The dogs and hens said:
"Very badly have you treated us and you have bitten us. Now we bite
you in turn." The millstones said: "Very much were we tormented by you,
and daily, daily, night and day, it was squeak, screech, screech, holi,
holi, huqi, huqi, [11] for your sake. Now you shall feel our strength,
and we shall grind your flesh and make meal of your bodies." And
the dogs growled at the unhappy images because they had not been
fed, and tore them with their teeth. The cups and platters said:
"Pain and misery you gave us, smoking our tops and sides, cooking us
over the fire, burning and hurting us as if we had no feeling. Now
it is your turn, and you shall burn." The unfortunate mannikins ran
hither and thither in their despair. They mounted upon the roofs of
the houses, but the houses crumbled beneath their feet; they tried
to climb to the tops of the trees, but the trees hurled them down;
they were even repulsed by the caves, which closed before them. Thus
this ill-starred race was finally destroyed and overthrown, and the
only vestiges of them which remain are certain of their progeny,
the little monkeys which dwell in the woods.
Vukub-Cakix, the Great Macaw
Ere the earth was quite recovered from the wrathful flood which had
descended upon it there lived a being orgulous and full of pride,
called Vukub-Cakix (Seven-times-the-colour-of-fire--the Kiche name
for the great macaw bird). His teeth were of emerald, and other
parts of him shone with the brilliance of gold and silver. In short,
it is evident that he was a sun-and-moon god of prehistoric times. He
boasted dreadfully, and his conduct so irritated the other gods that
they resolved upon his destruction. His two sons, Zipacna and Cabrakan
(Cockspur or Earth-heaper, and Earthquake), were earthquake-gods of
the type of the Jötuns of Scandinavian myth or the Titans of Greek
legend. These also were prideful and arrogant, and to cause their
downfall the gods despatched the heavenly twins Hun-Apu and Xbalanque
to earth, with instructions to chastise the trio.
Vukub-Cakix prided himself upon his possession of the wonderful
nanze-tree, the tapal, bearing a fruit round, yellow, and aromatic,
upon which he breakfasted every morning. One morning he mounted to its
summit, whence he could best espy the choicest fruits, when he was
surprised and infuriated to observe that two strangers had arrived
there before him, and had almost denuded the tree of its produce. On
seeing Vukub, Hun-Apu raised a blow-pipe to his mouth and blew a dart
at the giant. It struck him on the mouth, and he fell from the top of
the tree to the ground. Hun-Apu leapt down upon Vukub and grappled
with him, but the giant in terrible anger seized the god by the arm
and wrenched it from the body. He then returned to his house, where
he was met by his wife, Chimalmat, who inquired for what reason he
roared with pain. In reply he pointed to his mouth, and so full of
anger was he against Hun-Apu that he took the arm he had wrenched
from him and hung it over a blazing fire. He then threw himself down
to bemoan his injuries, consoling himself, however, with the idea
that he had avenged himself upon the disturbers of his peace.
Whilst Vukub-Cakix moaned and howled with the dreadful pain which he
felt in his jaw and teeth (for the dart which had pierced him was
probably poisoned) the arm of Hun-Apu hung over the fire, and was
turned round and round and basted by Vukub's spouse, Chimalmat. The
sun-god rained bitter imprecations upon the interlopers who had
penetrated to his paradise and had caused him such woe, and he gave
vent to dire threats of what would happen if he succeeded in getting
them into his power.
But Hun-Apu and Xbalanque were not minded that Vukub-Cakix should
escape so easily, and the recovery of Hun-Apu's arm must be made at
all hazards. So they went to consult two great and wise magicians,
Xpiyacoc and Xmucane, in whom we see two of the original Kiche creative
deities, who advised them to proceed with them in disguise to the
dwelling of Vukub, if they wished to recover the lost arm. The old
magicians resolved to disguise themselves as doctors, and dressed
Hun-Apu and Xbalanque in other garments to represent their sons.
Shortly they arrived at the mansion of Vukub, and while still some way
off they could hear his groans and cries. Presenting themselves at
the door, they accosted him. They told him that they had heard some
one crying out in pain, and that as famous doctors they considered
it their duty to ask who was suffering.
Vukub appeared quite satisfied, but closely questioned the old wizards
concerning the two young men who accompanied them.
"They are our sons," they replied.
"Good," said Vukub. "Do you think you will be able to cure me?"
"We have no doubt whatever upon that head," answered Xpiyacoc. "You
have sustained very bad injuries to your mouth and eyes."
"The demons who shot me with an arrow from their blow-pipe are the
cause of my sufferings," said Vukub. "If you are able to cure me I
shall reward you richly."
"Your Highness has many bad teeth, which must be removed," said
the wily old magician. "Also the balls of your eyes appear to me to
be diseased."
Vukub appeared highly alarmed, but the magicians speedily reassured
him.
"It is necessary," said Xpiyacoc, "that we remove your teeth, but we
will take care to replace them with grains of maize, which you will
find much more agreeable in every way."
The unsuspicious giant agreed to the operation, and very quickly
Xpiyacoc, with the help of Xmucane, removed his teeth of emerald, and
replaced them by grains of white maize. A change quickly came over
the Titan. His brilliancy speedily vanished, and when they removed
the balls of his eyes he sank into insensibility and died.
All this time the wife of Vukub was turning Hun-Apu's arm over the
fire, but Hun-Apu snatched the limb from above the brazier, and
with the help of the magicians replaced it upon his shoulder. The
discomfiture of Vukub was then complete. The party left his dwelling
feeling that their mission had been accomplished.
The Earth-Giants
But in reality it was only partially accomplished, because Vukub's two
sons, Zipacna and Cabrakan, still remained to be dealt with. Zipacna
was daily employed in heaping up mountains, while Cabrakan, his
brother, shook them in earthquake. The vengeance of Hun-Apu and
Xbalanque was first directed against Zipacna, and they conspired with
a band of young men to bring about his death.
The young men, four hundred in number, pretended to be engaged in
building a house. They cut down a large tree, which they made believe
was to be the roof-tree of their dwelling, and waited in a part of
the forest through which they knew Zipacna must pass. After a while
they could hear the giant crashing through the trees. He came into
sight, and when he saw them standing round the giant tree-trunk,
which they could not lift, he seemed very much amused.
"What have you there, O little ones?" he said laughing.
"Only a tree, your Highness, which we have felled for the roof-tree
of a new house we are building."
"Cannot you carry it?" asked the giant disdainfully.
"No, your Highness," they made answer; "it is much too heavy to be
lifted even by our united efforts."
With a good-natured laugh the Titan stooped and lifted the great
trunk upon his shoulder. Then, bidding them lead the way, he trudged
through the forest, evidently not disconcerted in the least by his
great burden. Now the young men, incited by Hun-Apu and Xbalanque,
had dug a great ditch, which they pretended was to serve for the
foundation of their new house. Into this they requested Zipacna to
descend, and, scenting no mischief, the giant readily complied. On his
reaching the bottom his treacherous acquaintances cast huge trunks
of trees upon him, but on hearing them coming down he quickly took
refuge in a small side tunnel which the youths had constructed to
serve as a cellar beneath their house.
Imagining the giant to be killed, they began at once to express their
delight by singing and dancing, and to lend colour to his stratagem
Zipacna despatched several friendly ants to the surface with strands
of hair, which the young men concluded had been taken from his dead
body. Assured by the seeming proof of his death, the youths proceeded
to build their house upon the tree-trunks which they imagined covered
Zipacna's body, and, producing a quantity of pulque, they began to
make merry over the end of their enemy. For some hours their new
dwelling rang with revelry.
All this time Zipacna, quietly hidden below, was listening to the
hubbub and waiting his chance to revenge himself upon those who had
entrapped him.
Suddenly arising in his giant might, he cast the house and all its
inmates high in the air. The dwelling was utterly demolished, and the
band of youths were hurled with such force into the sky that they
remained there, and in the stars we call the Pleiades we can still
discern them wearily waiting an opportunity to return to earth.
The Undoing of Zipacna
But Hun-Apu and Xbalanque, grieved that their comrades had so perished,
resolved that Zipacna must not be permitted to escape so easily. He,
carrying the mountains by night, sought his food by day on the shore
of the river, where he wandered catching fish and crabs. The brothers
made a large artificial crab, which they placed in a cavern at the
bottom of a ravine. They then cunningly undermined a huge mountain,
and awaited events. Very soon they saw Zipacna wandering along the
side of the river, and asked him where he was going.
"Oh, I am only seeking my daily food," replied the giant.
"And what may that consist of?" asked the brothers.
"Only of fish and crabs," replied Zipacna.
"Oh, there is a crab down yonder," said the crafty brothers, pointing
to the bottom of the ravine. "We espied it as we came along. Truly,
it is a great crab, and will furnish you with a capital breakfast."
"Splendid!" cried Zipacna, with glistening eyes. "I must have it
at once," and with one bound he leapt down to where the cunningly
contrived crab lay in the cavern.
No sooner had he reached it than Hun-Apu and Xbalanque cast the
mountain upon him; but so desperate were his efforts to get free that
the brothers feared he might rid himself of the immense weight of
earth under which he was buried, and to make sure of his fate they
turned him into stone. Thus at the foot of Mount Meahuan, near Vera
Paz, perished the proud Mountain-Maker.
The Discomfiture of Cabrakan
Now only the third of this family of boasters remained, and he was
the most proud of any.
"I am the Overturner of Mountains!" said he.
But Hun-Apu and Xbalanque had made up their minds that not one of
the race of Vukub should be left alive.
At the moment when they were plotting the overthrow of Cabrakan he
was occupied in moving mountains. He seized the mountains by their
bases and, exerting his mighty strength, cast them into the air; and
of the smaller mountains he took no account at all. While he was so
employed he met the brothers, who greeted him cordially.
"Good day, Cabrakan," said they. "What may you be doing?"
"Bah! nothing at all," replied the giant. "Cannot you see that I am
throwing the mountains about, which is my usual occupation? And who
may you be that ask such stupid questions? What are your names?"
"We have no names," replied they. "We are only hunters, and here we
have our blow-pipes, with which we shoot the birds that live in these
mountains. So you see that we do not require names, as we meet no one."
Cabrakan looked at the brothers disdainfully, and was about to
depart when they said to him: "Stay; we should like to behold these
mountain-throwing feats of yours."
This aroused the pride of Cabrakan.
"Well, since you wish it," said he, "I will show you how I can move
a really great mountain. Now, choose the one you would like to see
me destroy, and before you are aware of it I shall have reduced it
to dust."
Hun-Apu looked around him, and espying a great peak pointed toward
it. "Do you think you could overthrow that mountain?" he asked.
"Without the least difficulty," replied Cabrakan, with a great
laugh. "Let us go toward it."
"But first you must eat," said Hun-Apu. "You have had no food since
morning, and so great a feat can hardly be accomplished fasting."
The giant smacked his lips. "You are right," he said, with a hungry
look. Cabrakan was one of those people who are always hungry. "But
what have you to give me?"
"We have nothing with us," said Hun-Apu.
"Umph!" growled Cabrakan, "you are a pretty fellow. You ask me what
I will have to eat, and then tell me you have nothing," and in his
anger he seized one of the smaller mountains and threw it into the sea,
so that the waves splashed up to the sky.
"Come," said Hun-Apu, "don't get angry. We have our blow-pipes with
us, and will shoot a bird for your dinner."
On hearing this Cabrakan grew somewhat quieter.
"Why did you not say so at first?" he growled. "But be quick, because
I am hungry."
Just at that moment a large bird passed overhead, and Hun-Apu and
Xbalanque raised their blow-pipes to their mouths. The darts sped
swiftly upward, and both of them struck the bird, which came tumbling
down through the air, falling at the feet of Cabrakan.
"Wonderful, wonderful!" cried the giant. "You are clever fellows
indeed," and, seizing the dead bird, he was going to eat it raw when
Hun-Apu stopped him.
"Wait a moment," said he. "It will be much nicer when cooked," and,
rubbing two sticks together, he ordered Xbalanque to gather some dry
wood, so that a fire was soon blazing.
The bird was then suspended over the fire, and in a short time a
savoury odour mounted to the nostrils of the giant, who stood watching
the cooking with hungry eyes and watering lips.
Before placing the bird over the fire to cook, however, Hun-Apu had
smeared its feathers with a thick coating of mud. The Indians in
some parts of Central America still do this, so that when the mud
dries with the heat of the fire the feathers will come off with it,
leaving the flesh of the bird quite ready to eat. But Hun-Apu had
done this with a purpose. The mud that he spread on the feathers was
that of a poisoned earth, called tizate, the elements of which sank
deeply into the flesh of the bird.
When the savoury mess was cooked, he handed it to Cabrakan, who
speedily devoured it.
"Now," said Hun-Apu, "let us go toward that great mountain and see
if you can lift it as you boast."
But already Cabrakan began to feel strange pangs.
"What is this?" said he, passing his hand across his brow. "I do not
seem to see the mountain you mean."
"Nonsense," said Hun-Apu. "Yonder it is, see, to the east there."
"My eyes seem dim this morning," replied the giant.
"No, it is not that," said Hun-Apu. "You have boasted that you could
lift this mountain, and now you are afraid to try."
"I tell you," said Cabrakan, "that I have difficulty in seeing. Will
you lead me to the mountain?"
"Certainly," said Hun-Apu, giving him his hand, and with several
strides they were at the foot of the eminence.
"Now," said Hun-Apu, "see what you can do, boaster."
Cabrakan gazed stupidly at the great mass in front of him. His knees
shook together so that the sound was like the beating of a war-drum,
and the sweat poured from his forehead and ran in a little stream
down the side of the mountain.
"Come," cried Hun-Apu derisively, "are you going to lift the mountain
or not?"
"He cannot," sneered Xbalanque. "I knew he could not."
Cabrakan shook himself into a final effort to regain his senses,
but all to no purpose. The poison rushed through his blood, and with
a groan he fell dead before the brothers.
Thus perished the last of the earth-giants of Guatemala, whom Hun-Apu
and Xbalanque had been sent to destroy.
The Second Book
The second book of the Popol Vuh outlines the history of the hero-gods
Hun-Apu and Xbalanque. We are told that Xpiyacoc and Xmucane, the
father and mother gods, had two sons, Hunhun-Apu and Vukub-Hunapu,
the first of whom had by his wife Xbakiyalo two sons, Hunbatz and
Hunchouen. The weakness of the whole family was the native game
of ball, possibly the Mexican-Mayan game of tlachtli, a sort of
hockey. To this pastime the natives of Central America were greatly
addicted, and numerous remains of tlachtli courts are to be found in
the ruined cities of Yucatan and Guatemala. The object of the game was
to "putt" the ball through a small hole in a circular stone or goal,
and the player who succeeded in doing this might demand from the
audience all their clothes and jewels. The game, as we have said,
was exceedingly popular in ancient Central America, and there is
good reason to believe that inter-city matches took place between
the various city-states, and were accompanied by a partisanship and
rivalry as keen as that which finds expression among the crowd at
our principal football matches to-day.
A Challenge from Hades
On one occasion Hunhun-Apu and Vukub-Hunapu played a game of ball which
in its progress took them into the vicinity of the realm of Xibalba
(the Kiche Hades). The rulers of that drear abode, imagining that they
had a chance of capturing the brothers, extended a challenge to them
to play them at ball, and this challenge Hun-Came and Vukub-Came,
the sovereigns of the Kiche Hell, despatched by four messengers
in the shape of owls. The brothers accepted the challenge, and,
bidding farewell to their mother Xmucane and their respective sons
and nephews, followed the feathered messengers down the long hill
which led to the Underworld.
The Fooling of the Brethren
The American Indian is grave and taciturn. If there is one thing
he fears and dislikes more than another it is ridicule. To his
austere and haughty spirit it appears as something derogatory to his
dignity, a slur upon his manhood. The hero-brothers had not been
long in Xibalba when they discovered that it was the intention of
the Lords of Hades to fool them and subject them to every species
of indignity. After crossing a river of blood, they came to the
palace of the Lords of Xibalba, where they espied two seated figures
in front of them. Thinking that they recognised in them Hun-Came
and Vukub-Came, they saluted them in a becoming manner, only to
discover to their mortification that they were addressing figures of
wood. This incident excited the ribald jeers of the Xibalbans, who
scoffed at the brothers. Next they were invited to sit on the seat
of honour, which they found to their dismay to be a red-hot stone,
a circumstance which caused unbounded amusement to the inhabitants
of the Underworld. Then they were imprisoned in the House of Gloom,
where they were sacrificed and buried. The head of Hunhun-Apu was,
however, suspended from a tree, upon the branches of which grew a crop
of gourds so like the dreadful trophy as to be indistinguishable from
it. The fiat went forth that no one in Xibalba must eat of the fruit
of that tree. But the Lords of Xibalba had reckoned without feminine
curiosity and its unconquerable love of the forbidden.
The Princess Xquiq
One day--if day ever penetrated to that gloomy and unwholesome place--a
princess of Xibalba called Xquiq (Blood), daughter of Cuchumaquiq,
a notability of Xibalba, passed under the tree, and, observing the
desirable fruit with which it was covered, stretched out her hand
to pluck one of the gourds. Into the outstretched palm the head of
Hunhun-Apu spat, and told Xquiq that she would become a mother. Before
she returned home, however, the hero-god assured her that no harm would
come to her, and that she must not be afraid. In a few months' time
the princess's father heard of her adventure, and she was doomed to be
slain, the royal messengers of Xibalba, the owls, receiving commands
to despatch her and to bring back her heart in a vase. But on the way
she overcame the scruples of the owls by splendid promises, and they
substituted for her heart the coagulated sap of the bloodwort plant.
The Birth of Hun-Apu and Xbalanque
Xmucane, left at home, looked after the welfare of the young
Hunbatz and Hunchouen, and thither, at the instigation of the head
of Hunhun-Apu, went Xquiq for protection. At first Xmucane would not
credit her story, but upon Xquiq appealing to the gods a miracle was
performed on her behalf, and she was permitted to gather a basket of
maize where no maize grew to prove the authenticity of her claim. As
a princess of the Underworld, it is not surprising that she should be
connected with such a phenomenon, as it is from deities of that region
that we usually expect the phenomena of growth to proceed. Shortly
afterwards, when she had won the good graces of the aged Xmucane,
her twin sons were born, the Hun-Apu and Xbalanque whom we have
already met as the central figures of the first book.
The Divine Children
But the divine children were both noisy and mischievous. They
tormented their venerable grandmother with their shrill uproar
and tricky behaviour. At last Xmucane, unable to put up with their
habits, turned them out of doors. They took to an outdoor life with
surprising ease, and soon became expert hunters and skilful in the use
of the serbatana (blow-pipe), with which they shot birds and small
animals. They were badly treated by their half-brothers Hunbatz and
Hunchouen, who, jealous of their fame as hunters, annoyed them in every
possible manner. But the divine children retaliated by turning their
tormentors into hideous apes. The sudden change in the appearance of
her grandsons caused Xmucane the most profound grief and dismay, and
she begged that they who had brightened her home with their singing
and flute-playing might not be condemned to such a dreadful fate. She
was informed by the divine brothers that if she could behold their
antics unmoved by mirth her wish would be granted. But the capers
they cut and their grimaces caused her such merriment that on three
separate occasions she was unable to restrain her laughter, and the
men-monkeys took their leave.
The Magic Tools
The childhood of Hun-Apu and Xbalanque was full of such episodes as
might be expected from these beings. We find, for example, that on
attempting to clear a milpa (maize plantation) they employed magic
tools which could be trusted to undertake a good day's work whilst they
were absent at the chase. Returning at night, they smeared soil over
their hands and faces, for the purpose of deluding Xmucane into the
belief that they had been toiling all day in the fields. But the wild
beasts met in conclave during the night, and replaced all the roots
and shrubs which the magic tools had cleared away. The twins recognised
the work of the various animals, and placed a large net on the ground,
so that if the creatures came to the spot on the following night they
might be caught in its folds. They did come, but all made good their
escape save the rat. The rabbit and deer lost their tails, however,
and that is why these animals possess no caudal appendages! The rat,
in gratitude for their sparing its life, told the brothers the history
of their father and uncle, of their heroic efforts against the powers
of Xibalba, and of the existence of a set of clubs and balls with
which they might play tlachtli on the ball-ground at Ninxor-Carchah,
where Hunhun-Apu and Vukub-Hunapu had played before them.
The Second Challenge
But the watchful Hun-Came and Vukub-Came soon heard that the sons and
nephews of their first victims had adopted the game which had led these
last into the clutches of the cunning Xibalbans, and they resolved to
send a similar challenge to Hun-Apu and Xbalanque, thinking that the
twins were unaware of the fate of Hunhun-Apu and Vukub-Hunapu. They
therefore despatched messengers to the home of Xmucane with a challenge
to play them at the ball-game, and Xmucane, alarmed by the nature of
the message, sent a louse to warn her grandsons. The louse, unable to
proceed as quickly as he wished, permitted himself to be swallowed by
a toad, the toad by a serpent, and the serpent by the bird Voc, the
messenger of Hurakan. At the end of the journey the other animals duly
liberated each other, but the toad could not rid himself of the louse,
who had in reality hidden himself in the toad's gums, and had not been
swallowed at all. At last the message was delivered, and the twins
returned to the abode of Xmucane, to bid farewell to their grandmother
and mother. Before leaving they each planted a cane in the midst of
the hut, saying that it would wither if any fatal accident befell them.
The Tricksters Tricked
They then proceeded to Xibalba, on the road trodden by Hunhun-Apu
and Vukub-Hunapu, and passed the river of blood as the others
had done. But they adopted the precaution of despatching ahead an
animal called Xan as a sort of spy or scout. They commanded this
animal to prick all the Xibalbans with a hair from Hun-Apu's leg,
in order that they might discover which of them were made of wood,
and incidentally learn the names of the others as they addressed one
another when pricked by the hair. They were thus enabled to ignore the
wooden images on their arrival at Xibalba, and they carefully avoided
the red-hot stone. Nor did the ordeal of the House of Gloom affright
them, and they passed through it scatheless. The inhabitants of the
Underworld were both amazed and furious with disappointment. To add
to their annoyance, they were badly beaten in the game of ball which
followed. The Lords of Hell then requested the twins to bring them four
bouquets of flowers from the royal garden of Xibalba, at the same time
commanding the gardeners to keep good watch over the flowers so that
none of them might be removed. But the brothers called to their aid a
swarm of ants, who succeeded in returning with the flowers. The anger
of the Xibalbans increased to a white fury, and they incarcerated
Hun-Apu and Xbalanque in the House of Lances, a dread abode where
demons armed with sharp spears thrust at them fiercely. But they
bribed the lancers and escaped. The Xibalbans slit the beaks of the
owls who guarded the royal gardens, and howled in fury.
The Houses of the Ordeals
They were next thrust into the House of Cold. Here they escaped
a dreadful death from freezing by warming themselves with burning
pine-cones. Into the House of Tigers and the House of Fire they were
thrown for a night each, but escaped from both. But they were not so
lucky in the House of Bats. As they threaded this place of terror,
Camazotz, Ruler of the Bats, descended upon them with a whirring
of leathern wings, and with one sweep of his sword-like claws cut
off Hun-Apu's head. (See Mictlan, pp. 95, 96.) But a tortoise which
chanced to pass the severed neck of the hero's prostrate body and
came into contact with it was immediately turned into a head, and
Hun-Apu arose from his terrible experience not a whit the worse.
These various houses in which the brothers were forced to pass a
certain time forcibly recall to our minds the several circles of
Dante's Hell. Xibalba was to the Kiche not a place of punishment,
but a dark place of horror and myriad dangers. No wonder the Maya had
what Landa calls "an immoderate fear of death" if they believed that
after it they would be transported to such a dread abode!
With the object of proving their immortal nature to their adversaries,
Hun-Apu and Xbalanque, first arranging for their resurrection with
two sorcerers, Xulu and Pacaw, stretched themselves upon a bier and
died. Their bones were ground to powder and thrown into the river. They
then went through a kind of evolutionary process, appearing on the
fifth day after their deaths as men-fishes and on the sixth as old
men, ragged and tatterdemalion in appearance, killing and restoring
each other to life. At the request of the princes of Xibalba, they
burned the royal palace and restored it to its pristine splendour,
killed and resuscitated the king's dog, and cut a man in pieces,
bringing him to life again. The Lords of Hell were curious about
the sensation of death, and asked to be killed and resuscitated. The
first portion of their request the hero-brothers speedily granted,
but did not deem it necessary to pay any regard to the second.
Throwing off all disguise, the brothers assembled the now thoroughly
cowed princes of Xibalba, and announced their intention of punishing
them for their animosity against themselves, their father and
uncle. They were forbidden to partake in the noble and classic
game of ball--a great indignity in the eyes of Maya of the higher
caste--they were condemned to menial tasks, and they were to have sway
over the beasts of the forest alone. After this their power rapidly
waned. These princes of the Underworld are described as being owl-like,
with faces painted black and white, as symbolical of their duplicity
and faithless disposition.
As some reward for the dreadful indignities they had undergone, the
souls of Hunhun-Apu and Vukub-Hunapu, the first adventurers into the
darksome region of Xibalba, were translated to the skies, and became
the sun and moon, and with this apotheosis the second book ends.
We can have no difficulty, in the light of comparative mythology,
in seeing in the matter of this book a version of "the harrying of
hell" common to many mythologies. In many primitive faiths a hero or
heroes dares the countless dangers of Hades in order to prove to the
savage mind that the terrors of death can be overcome. In Algonquian
mythology Blue-Jay makes game of the Dead Folk whom his sister Ioi
has married, and Balder passes through the Scandinavian Helheim. The
god must first descend into the abyss and must emerge triumphant if
humble folk are to possess assurance of immortality.
The Reality of Myth
It is from such matter as that found in the second book of the Popol
Vuh that we are enabled to discern how real myth can be on occasion. It
is obvious, as has been pointed out, that the dread of death in the
savage mind may give rise to such a conception of its vanquishment as
appears in the Popol Vuh. But there is reason to suspect that other
elements have also entered into the composition of the myth. It is
well known that an invading race, driving before them the remnants
of a conquered people, are prone to regard these in the course of a
few generations as almost supernatural and as denizens of a sphere
more or less infernal. Their reasons for this are not difficult
of comprehension. To begin with, a difference in ceremonial ritual
gives rise to the belief that the inimical race practises magic. The
enemy is seldom seen, and, if perceived, quickly takes cover or
"vanishes." The majority of aboriginal races were often earth- or
cave-dwellers, like the Picts of Scotland, and such the originals of
the Xibalbans probably were.
The invading Maya-Kiche, encountering such a folk in the cavernous
recesses of the hill-slopes of Guatemala, would naturally refer them
to the Underworld. The cliff-dwellings of Mexico and Colorado exhibit
manifest signs of the existence of such a cave-dwelling race. In
the latter state is the Cliff Palace Cañon, a huge natural recess,
within which a small city was actually built, which still remains in
excellent preservation. In some such semi-subterranean recess, then,
may the city of "Xibalba" have stood.
The Xibalbans
We can see, too, that the Xibalbans were not merely a plutonic
race. Xibalba is not a Hell, a place of punishment for sin, but a
place of the dead, and its inhabitants were scarcely "devils," nor evil
gods. The transcriber of the Popol Vuh says of them: "In the old times
they did not have much power. They were but annoyers and opposers of
men, and, in truth, they were not regarded as gods." The word Xibalba
is derived from a root meaning "to fear," from which comes the name
for a ghost or phantom. Xibalba was thus the "Place of Phantoms."
The Third Book
The opening of the third book finds the gods once more deliberating as
to the creation of man. Four men are evolved as the result of these
deliberations. These beings were moulded from a paste of yellow and
white maize, and were named Balam-Quitze (Tiger with the Sweet Smile),
Balam-Agab (Tiger of the Night), Mahacutah (The Distinguished Name),
and Iqi-Balam (Tiger of the Moon).
But the god Hurakan who had formed them was not overpleased with his
handiwork, for these beings were too much like the gods themselves. The
gods once more took counsel, and agreed that man must be less perfect
and possess less knowledge than this new race. He must not become
as a god. So Hurakan breathed a cloud over their eyes in order that
they might only see a portion of the earth, whereas before they had
been able to see the whole round sphere of the world. After this the
four men were plunged into a deep sleep, and four women were created,
who were given them as wives. These were Caha-Paluma (Falling Water),
Choima (Beautiful Water), Tzununiha (House of the Water), and Cakixa
(Water of Parrots, or Brilliant Water), who were espoused to the men
in the respective order given above.
These eight persons were the ancestors of the Kiche only, after
which were created the forerunners of the other peoples. At this
time there was no sun, and comparative darkness lay over the face
of the earth. Men knew not the art of worship, but blindly lifted
their eyes to heaven and prayed the Creator to send them quiet lives
and the light of day. But no sun came, and dispeace entered their
hearts. So they journeyed to a place called Tulan-Zuiva (The Seven
Caves)--practically the same as Chicomoztoc in the Aztec myth--and
there gods were vouchsafed to them. The names of these were Tohil,
whom Balam-Quitze received; Avilix, whom Balam-Agab received; and
Hacavitz, granted to Mahacutah. Iqi-Balam received a god, but as he
had no family his worship and knowledge died out.
The Granting of Fire
Grievously did the Kiche feel the want of fire in the sunless world
they inhabited, but this the god Tohil (The Rumbler, the Fire-god)
quickly provided them with. However, a mighty rain descended and
extinguished all the fires in the land. These, however, were always
supplied again by Tohil, who had only to strike his feet together
to produce fire. In this figure there is no difficulty in seeing a
fully developed thunder-god.
The Kiche Babel
Tulan-Zuiva was a place of great misfortune to the Kiche, for here
the race suffered alienation in its different branches by reason of a
confounding of their speech, which recalls the story of Babel. Owing
to this the first four men were no longer able to comprehend each
other, and determined to leave the place of their mischance and to
seek the leadership of the god Tohil into another and more fortunate
sphere. In this journey they met with innumerable hardships. They
had to cross many lofty mountains, and on one occasion had to make
a long détour across the bed of the ocean, the waters of which were
miraculously divided to permit of their passage. At last they arrived
at a mountain which they called Hacavitz, after one of their deities,
and here they remained, for it had been foretold that here they
should see the sun. At last the luminary appeared. Men and beasts
went wild with delight, although his beams were by no means strong,
and he appeared more like a reflection in a mirror than the strong
sun of later days whose fiery beams speedily sucked up the blood of
victims on the altar. As he showed his face the three tribal gods
of the Kiche were turned into stone, as were the gods or totems
connected with the wild animals. Then arose the first Kiche town,
or permanent dwelling-place.
The Last Days of the First Men
Time passed, and the first men of the Kiche race grew old. Visions
came to them, in which they were exhorted by the gods to render human
sacrifices, and in order to obey the divine injunctions they raided the
neighbouring lands, the folk of which made a spirited resistance. But
in a great battle the Kiche were miraculously assisted by a horde of
wasps and hornets, which flew in the faces of their foes, stinging
and blinding them, so that they could not wield weapon nor see to
make any effective resistance. After this battle the surrounding
races became tributary to them.
Death of the First Men
Now the first men felt that their death-day was nigh, and they called
their kin and dependents around them to hear their dying words. In the
grief of their souls they chanted the song "Kamucu," the song "We see,"
that they had sung so joyfully when they had first seen the light
of day. Then they parted from their wives and sons one by one. And
of a sudden they were not, and in their place was a great bundle,
which was never opened. It was called the "Majesty Enveloped." So
died the first men of the Kiche.
In this book it is clear that we have to deal with the problem which
the origin and creation of man presented to the Maya-Kiche mind. The
several myths connected with it bear a close resemblance to those
of other American peoples. In the mythology of the American Indian
it is rare to find an Adam, a single figure set solitary in a world
without companionship of some sort. Man is almost invariably the
child of Mother Earth, and emerges from some cavern or subterranean
country fully grown and fully equipped for the upper earth-life. We
find this type of myth in the mythologies of the Aztecs, Peruvians,
Choctaws, Blackfeet Indians, and those of many other American tribes.
American Migrations
We also find in the story of the Kiche migration a striking similarity
to the migration myths of other American races. But in the Kiche myth
we can trace a definite racial movement from the cold north to the
warm south. The sun is not at first born. There is darkness. When he
does appear he is weak and his beams are dull and watery like those
of the luminary in a northern clime. Again, there are allusions to
the crossing of rivers by means of "shining sand" which covered them,
which might reasonably be held to imply the presence upon them of
ice. In this connection we may quote from an Aztec migration myth
which appears almost a parallel to the Kiche story.
"This is the beginning of the record of the coming of the Mexicans
from the place called Aztlan. It is by means of the water that
they came this way, being four tribes, and in coming they rowed in
boats. They built their huts on piles at the place called the grotto
of Quineveyan. It is there from which the eight tribes issued. The
first tribe is that of the Huexotzincos, the second the Chalcas,
the third the Xochimilcos, the fourth the Cuitlavacas, the fifth the
Mallinalcas, the sixth the Chichimecas, the seventh the Tepanecas,
the eighth the Matlatzincas. It is there where they were founded in
Colhuacan. They were the colonists of it since they landed there,
coming from Aztlan.... It is there that they soon afterwards went
away from, carrying with them their god Vitzillopochtli.... There
the eight tribes opened up our road by water."
The "Wallum Olum," or painted calendar records, of the Leni-Lenape
Indians contain a similar myth. "After the flood," says the story,
"the Lenape with the manly turtle beings dwelt close together at the
cave house and dwelling of Talli.... They saw that the snake-land was
bright and wealthy. Having all agreed, they went over the water of
the frozen sea to possess the land. It was wonderful when they all
went over the smooth deep water of the frozen sea at the gap of the
snake sea in the great ocean."
Do these myths contain any essence of the truth? Do they refer to
an actual migration when the ancestors of certain American tribes
crossed the frozen ocean of the Kamchatka Strait and descended from
the sunless north and the boreal night of these sub-Arctic regions to a
more genial clime? Can such a tradition have been preserved throughout
the countless ages which must have passed between the arrival of
proto-Mongolian man in America and the writing or composition of the
several legends cited? Surely not. But may there not have been later
migrations from the north? May not hordes of folk distantly akin to
the first Americans have swept across the frozen strait, and within
a few generations have made their way into the warmer regions, as we
know the Nahua did? The Scandinavian vikings who reached north-eastern
America in the tenth century found there a race totally distinct from
the Red Man, and more approaching the Esquimaux, whom they designated
Skrellingr, or "Chips," so small and misshapen were they. Such a
description could hardly have been applied to the North American
Indian as we know him. From the legends of the Red race of North
America we may infer that they remained for a number of generations
in the Far West of the North American continent before they migrated
eastward. And a guess might be hazarded to the effect that, arriving
in America somewhere about the dawn of the Christian era, they spread
slowly in a south-easterly direction, arriving in the eastern parts
of North America about the end of the eleventh century, or even a
little later. This would mean that such a legend as that which we have
just perused would only require to have survived a thousand years,
provided the Popol Vuh was first composed about the eleventh century,
as appears probable. But such speculations are somewhat dangerous in
the face of an almost complete lack of evidence, and must be met with
the utmost caution and treated as surmises only.
Cosmogony of the "Popol Vuh"
We have now completed our brief survey of the mythological portion
of the Popol Vuh, and it will be well at this point to make some
inquiries into the origin and nature of the various gods, heroes,
and similar personages who fill its pages. Before doing so, however,
let us glance at the creation-myth which we find detailed in the first
book. We can see by internal evidence that this must be the result of
the fusion of more than one creation-story. We find in the myth that
mention is made of a number of beings each of whom appears to exercise
in some manner the functions of a creator or "moulder." These beings
also appear to have similar attributes. There is evidently here the
reconciliation of early rival faiths. We know that this occurred in
Peruvian cosmogony, which is notoriously composite, and many another
mythology, European and Asiatic, exhibits a like phenomenon. Even in
the creation-story as given in Genesis we can discover the fusion of
two separate accounts from the allusion to the creative power as both
"Jahveh" and "Elohim," the plural ending of the second name proving
the presence of polytheistic as well as monotheistic conceptions.
Antiquity of the "Popol Vuh"
These considerations lead to the assumption that the Popol Vuh is
a mythological collection of very considerable antiquity, as the
fusion of religious beliefs is a comparatively slow process. It is,
of course, in the absence of other data, impossible to fix the date
of its origin, even approximately. We possess only the one version of
this interesting work, so that we are compelled to confine ourselves
to the consideration of that alone, and are without the assistance
which philology would lend us by a comparison of two versions of
different dates.
The Father-Mother Gods
We discover a pair of dual beings concerned in the Kiche
creation. These are Xpiyacoc and Xmucane, the Father-Mother
deities, and are obviously Kiche equivalents to the Mexican
Ometecutli-Omeciuatl, whom we have already noticed (pp. 103-4). The
former is the male fructifier, whilst the name of the latter
signifies "Female Vigour." These deities were probably regarded as
hermaphroditic, as numerous North American Indian gods appear to be,
and may be analogous to the "Father Sky" and "Mother Earth" of so
many mythologies.
Gucumatz
We also find Gucumatz concerned in the Kiche scheme of creation. He
was a Maya-Kiche form of the Mexican Quetzalcoatl, or perhaps the
converse was the case. The name signifies, like its Nahua equivalent,
"Serpent with Green Feathers."
Hurakan
Hurakan, the wind-god, "He who hurls below," whose name perhaps
signifies "The One-legged," is probably the same as the Nahua
Tezcatlipoca. It has been suggested that the word "hurricane" has been
evolved from the name of this god, but the derivation seems rather too
fortuitous to be real. Hurakan had the assistance of three sub-gods,
Cakulha-Hurakan (Lightning), Chipi-Cakulha (Lightning-flash), and
Raxa-Cakulha (Track of the Lightning).
Hun-Apu and Xbalanque
Hun-Apu and Xbalanque, the hero-gods, appear to have the attributes of
demi-gods in general. The name Hun-Apu means "Master" or "Magician,"
and Xbalanque "Little Tiger." We find many such figures in American
myth, which is rich in hero-gods.
Vukub-Cakix and his Sons
Vukub-Cakix and his progeny are, of course, earth-giants like the
Titans of Greek mythology or the Jötuns of Scandinavian story. The
removal of the emerald teeth of Vukub-Cakix and their replacement by
grains of maize would seem to be a mythical interpretation or allegory
of the removal of the virgin turf of the earth and its replacement by
maize-seed. Therefore it is possible that Vukub-Cakix is an earth-god,
and not a prehistoric sun-and-moon god, as stated by Dr. Seler. [12]
Metrical Origin of the "Popol Vuh"
There is reason to believe that the Popol Vuh was originally a metrical
composition. This would assist the hypothesis of its antiquity, on
the ground that it was for generations recited before being reduced to
writing. Passages here and there exhibit a decided metrical tendency,
and one undoubtedly applies to a descriptive dance symbolical of
sunrise. It is as follows:
"'Ama x-u ch'ux ri Vuch?'
'Ve,' x-cha ri mama.
Ta chi xaquinic.
Quate ta chi gecumarchic.
Cahmul xaquin ri mama.
'Ca xaquin-Vuch,' ca cha vinak vacamic."
This may be rendered freely:
"'Is the dawn about to be?'
'Yes,' answered the old man.
Then he spread apart his legs.
Again the darkness appeared.
Four times the old man spread his legs.
'Now the opossum spreads his legs,'
Say the people."
It is obvious that many of these lines possess the well-known quality
of savage dance-poetry, which displays itself in a rhythm of one
long foot followed by two short ones. We know that the Kiche were
very fond of ceremonial dances, and of repeating long chants which
they called nugum tzih, or "garlands of words," and the Popol Vuh,
along with other matter, probably contained many of these.
Pseudo-History of the Kiche
The fourth book of the Popol Vuh contains the pseudo-history of
the Kiche kings. It is obviously greatly confused, and it would be
difficult to say how much of it originally belonged to the Popol Vuh
and how much had been added or invented by its latest compiler. One
cannot discriminate between saga and history, or between monarchs
and gods, the real and the fabulous. Interminable conflicts are the
theme of most of the book, and many migrations are recounted.
Queen Móo
Whilst dealing with Maya pseudo-history it will be well to glance
for a moment at the theories of the late Augustus Le Plongeon, who
lived and carried on excavations in Yucatan for many years. Dr. Le
Plongeon was obsessed with the idea that the ancient Maya spread their
civilisation all over the habitable globe, and that they were the
originators of the Egyptian, Palestinian, and Hindu civilisations,
besides many others. He furthermore believed himself to be the true
elucidator of the Maya system of hieroglyphs, which in his estimation
were practically identical with the Egyptian. We will not attempt to
refute his theories, as they are based on ignorance of the laws which
govern philology, anthropology, and mythology. But he possessed a
thorough knowledge of the Maya tongue, and his acquaintance with Maya
customs was extensive and peculiar. One of his ideas was that a certain
hall among the ruins of Chichen-Itza had been built by a Queen Móo,
a Maya princess who after the tragic fate of her brother-husband
and the catastrophe which ended in the sinking of the continent
of Atlantis fled to Egypt, where she founded the ancient Egyptian
civilisation. It would be easy to refute this theory. But the tale as
told by Dr. Le Plongeon possesses a sufficiency of romantic interest
to warrant its being rescued from the little-known volume in which
he published it. [13]
We do not learn from Dr. Le Plongeon's book by what course of
reasoning he came to discover that the name of his heroine was the
rather uneuphonious one of Móo. Probably he arrived at it by the same
process as that by which he discovered that certain Mayan architectural
ornaments were in reality Egyptian letters. But it will be better to
let him tell his story in his own words. It is as follows:
The Funeral Chamber
"As we are about to enter the funeral chamber hallowed by the love of
the sister-wife, Queen Móo, the beauty of the carvings on the zapote
beam that forms the lintel of the doorway calls our attention. Here
is represented the antagonism of the brothers Aac and Coh, that
led to the murder of the latter by the former. Carved on the lintel
are the names of these personages, represented by their totems--a
leopard head for Coh, and a boar head as well as a turtle for Aac,
this word meaning both boar and turtle in Maya. Aac is pictured
within the disk of the sun, his protective deity which he worshipped,
according to mural inscriptions at Uxmal. Full of anger he faces his
brother. In his right hand there is a badge ornamented with feathers
and flowers. The threatening way in which this is held suggests a
concealed weapon.... The face of Coh also expresses anger. With him is
the feathered serpent, emblematic of royalty, thence of the country,
more often represented as a winged serpent protecting Coh. In his left
hand he holds his weapon down, whilst his right hand clasps his badge
of authority, with which he covers his breasts as for protection,
and demanding the respect due to his rank....
"Passing between the figures of armed chieftains sculptured on the
jambs of the doorway, and seeming like sentinels guarding the entrance
of the funeral chamber, we notice one wearing a headdress similar
to the crown of Lower Egypt, which formed part of the pshent of the
Egyptian monarchs.
The Frescoes
"The frescoes in the funeral chamber of Prince Coh's Memorial
Hall, painted in water-colours taken from the vegetable kingdom,
are divided into a series of tableaux separated by blue lines. The
plinths, the angles of the room, and the edges of the ceiling,
being likewise painted blue, indicate that this was intended for a
funeral chamber.... The first scene represents Queen Móo while yet a
child. She is seated on the back of a peccary, or American wild boar,
under the royal umbrella of feathers, emblem of royalty in Mayach, as
it was in India, Chaldea, and other places. She is consulting a h-men,
or wise man; listening with profound attention to the decrees of fate
as revealed by the cracking of the shell of an armadillo exposed
to a slow fire on a brazier, the condensing on it of the vapour,
and the various tints it assumes. This mode of divination is one of
the customs of the Mayas....
The Soothsayers
"In front of the young Queen Móo, and facing her, is seated the
soothsayer, evidently a priest of high rank, judging from the colours,
blue and yellow, of the feathers of his ceremonial mantle. He reads
the decrees of fate on the shell of the armadillo, and the scroll
issuing from his throat says what they are. By him stands the winged
serpent, emblem and protective genius of the Maya Empire. His head
is turned towards the royal banner, which he seems to caress. His
satisfaction is reflected in the mild and pleased expression of
his face. Behind the priest, the position of whose hand is the
same as that of Catholic priests in blessing their congregation,
and the significance of which is well known to occultists, are the
ladies-in-waiting of the young Queen.
The Royal Bride
"In another tableau we again see Queen Móo, no longer a child, but
a comely young woman. She is not seated under the royal umbrella or
banner, but she is once more in the presence of the h-men, whose face
is concealed by a mask representing an owl's head. She, pretty and
coquettish, has many admirers, who vie with each other for the honour
of her hand. In company with one of her wooers she comes to consult
the priest, accompanied by an old lady, her grandmother probably,
and her female attendants. According to custom the old lady is the
spokeswoman. She states to the priest that the young man, he who sits
on a low stool between two female attendants, desires to marry the
Queen. The priest's attendant, seated also on a stool, back of all,
acts as crier, and repeats in a loud voice the speech of the old lady.
Móo's Refusal
"The young Queen refuses the offer. The refusal is indicated by
the direction of the scroll issuing from her mouth. It is turned
backward, instead of forward towards the priest, as would be the
case if she assented to the marriage. The h-men explains that Móo,
being a daughter of the royal family, by law and custom must marry one
of her brothers. The youth listens to the decision with due respect
to the priest, as shown by his arm being placed across his breast,
the left hand resting on the right shoulder. He does not accept
the refusal in a meek spirit, however. His clenched fist, his foot
raised as in the act of stamping, betoken anger and disappointment,
while the attendant behind him expostulates, counselling patience and
resignation, judging by the position and expression of her left-hand
palm upward.
The Rejected Suitor
"In another tableau we see the same individual whose offer of marriage
was rejected by the young Queen in consultation with a nubchi, or
prophet, a priest whose exalted rank is indicated by his headdress,
and the triple breastplate he wears over his mantle of feathers. The
consulter, evidently a person of importance, has come attended by
his hachetail, or confidential friend, who sits behind him on a
cushion. The expression on the face of the said consulter shows that
he does not accept patiently the decrees of fate, although conveyed by
the interpreter in as conciliatory a manner as possible. The adverse
decision of the gods is manifested by the sharp projecting centre
part of the scroll, but it is wrapped in words as persuasive and
consoling, preceded by as smooth a preamble as the rich and beautiful
Maya language permits and makes easy. His friend is addressing the
prophet's assistant. Reflecting the thoughts of his lord, he declares
that the nubchi's fine discourse and his pretended reading of the will
of the gods are all nonsense, and exclaims 'Pshaw!' which contemptuous
exclamation is pictured by the yellow scroll, pointed at both ends,
escaping from his nose like a sneeze. The answer of the priest's
assistant, evidenced by the gravity of his features, the assertive
position of his hand, and the bluntness of his speech, is evidently
'It is so!'
Aac's Fierce Wooing
"Her brother Aac is madly in love with Móo. He is portrayed approaching
the interpreter of the will of the gods, divested of his garments
in token of humility in presence of their majesty and of submission
to their decrees. He comes full of arrogance, arrayed in gorgeous
attire, and with regal pomp. He comes not as a suppliant to ask and
accept counsel, but haughty, he makes bold to dictate. He is angered
at the refusal of the priest to accede to his demand for his sister
Móo's hand, to whose totem, an armadillo on this occasion, he points
imperiously. It was on an armadillo's shell that the fates wrote her
destiny when consulted by the performance of the Pou ceremony. The
yellow flames of wrath darting from all over his person, the sharp
yellow scroll issuing from his mouth, symbolise Aac's feelings. The
pontiff, however, is unmoved by them. In the name of the gods with
serene mien he denies the request of the proud nobleman, as his speech
indicates. The winged serpent, genius of the country, that stands erect
and ireful by Aac, is also wroth at his pretensions, and shows in its
features and by sending its dart through Aac's royal banner a decided
opposition to them, expressed by the ends of his speech being turned
backwards, some of them terminating abruptly, others in sharp points.
Prince Coh
"Prince Coh sits behind the priest as one of his attendants. He
witnesses the scene, hears the calm negative answer, sees the anger
of his brother and rival, smiles at his impotence, is happy at his
discomfiture. Behind him, however, sits a spy who will repeat his
words, report his actions to his enemy. He listens, he watches. The
high-priest himself, Cay, their elder brother, sees the storm that
is brewing behind the dissensions of Coh and Aac. He trembles at the
thought of the misfortunes that will surely befall the dynasty of
the Cans, of the ruin and misery of the country that will certainly
follow. Divested of his priestly raiment, he comes nude and humble
as it is proper for men in the presence of the gods, to ask their
advice how best to avoid the impending calamities. The chief of the
auspices is in the act of reading their decrees on the palpitating
entrails of a fish. The sad expression on his face, that of humble
resignation on that of the pontiff, of deferential astonishment on
that of the assistant, speak of the inevitable misfortunes which are
to come in the near future.
"We pass over interesting battle scenes ... in which the defenders have
been defeated by the Mayas. Coh will return to his queen loaded with
spoils that he will lay at her feet with his glory, which is also hers.
The Murder of Coh
"We next see him in a terrible altercation with his brother Aac. The
figures in that scene are nearly life-size, but so much disfigured
and broken as to make it impossible to obtain good tracings. Coh is
portrayed without weapons, his fists clenched, looking menacingly
at his foe, who holds three spears, typical of the three wounds he
inflicted in his brother's back when he killed him treacherously. Coh
is now laid out, being prepared for cremation. His body has been
opened at the ribs to extract the viscera and heart, which, after
being charred, are to be preserved in a stone urn with cinnabar,
where the writer found them in 1875. His sister-wife, Queen Móo,
in sad contemplation of the remains of the beloved, ... kneels at
his feet.... The winged serpent, protective genius of the country, is
pictured without a head. The ruler of the country has been slain. He
is dead. The people are without a chief."
The Widowhood of Móo
The widowhood of Móo is then said to be portrayed in subsequent
pictures. Other suitors, among them Aac, make their proposals to
her, but she refuses them all. "Aac's pride being humiliated, his
love turned to hatred. His only wish henceforth was to usurp the
supreme power, to wage war against the friend of his childhood. He
made religious disagreement the pretext. He proclaimed that the
worship of the sun was to be superior to that of the winged serpent,
the genius of the country; also to that of the worship of ancestors,
typified by the feathered serpent, with horns and a flame or halo on
the head.... Prompted by such evil passions, he put himself at the
head of his own vassals, and attacked those who had remained faithful
to Queen Móo and to Prince Coh's memory. At first Móo's adherents
successfully opposed her foes. The contending parties, forgetting in
the strife that they were children of the same soil, blinded by their
prejudices, let their passions have the better of their reason. At
last Queen Móo fell a prisoner in the hands of her enemy."
The Manuscript Troano
Dr. Le Plongeon here assumes that the story is taken up by the
Manuscript Troano. As no one is able to decipher this manuscript
completely, he is pretty safe in his assertion. Here is what the
pintura alluded to says regarding Queen Móo, according to our author:
"The people of Mayach having been whipped into submission and cowed,
no longer opposing much resistance, the lord seized her by the hair,
and, in common with others, caused her to suffer from blows. This
happened on the ninth day of the tenth month of the year Kan. Being
completely routed, she passed to the opposite sea-coast in the southern
parts of the country, which had already suffered much injury."
Here we shall leave the Queen, and those who have been sufficiently
credulous to create and believe in her and her companions. We do not
aver that the illustrations on the walls of the temple at Chichen do
not allude to some such incident, or series of incidents, as Dr. Le
Plongeon describes, but to bestow names upon the dramatis personæ in
the face of almost complete inability to read the Maya script and a
total dearth of accompanying historical manuscripts is merely futile,
and we must regard Dr. Le Plongeon's narrative as a quite fanciful
rendering of probability. At the same time, the light which he
throws--if some obviously unscientific remarks be deducted--on the
customs of the Maya renders his account of considerable interest,
and that must be our excuse for presenting it here at some length.