An Accident.--Journey continued.--Hacienda of Xcanchakan.--An Indian
Dance.--Whipping an Indian.--Hacienda of Mucuyche.--A Bath in a
Senote.--Hacienda of San Jose.--Arrival at Uxmal.--First Sight of the
Ruins.--Changes since last Visit.--House of the Dwarf.--House of the
Nuns.--Casa del Gobernador.--Residence at the Ruins.--Unpromising
Appearances.--How to make a Fire.--Instance of Perseverance.--Arrival
of Luggage on the Backs of Indians.--First Night at Uxmal.
The interest of our day at Mayapan came near being marred by an unlucky
accident. Just as we were leaving the ruins a messenger came to inform
us that one of our pistols had shot an Indian. These pistols had never
shown any particular antipathy to Indians, and had never shot one
before; but, hurrying back to the hacienda, we found the poor fellow
with two of his fingers nearly shot off. The ball had passed through
his shirt, making two holes in it, fortunately without hitting his
body. The Indians said that the pistol had gone off of itself while
they were only looking at it. We felt sure that this was not exactly
the case, knowing that pistols are not free agents, and laid the blame
upon them; but it was a great satisfaction that the accident was no
worse, and also that Doctor Cabot was at hand to dress the wound. The
Indian seemed to think less of it than we did.
It was late when we left the hacienda. Our road was a mere bridle-path
through a wilderness. At some distance we crossed a broken range of
stones, rising on each side to a wall, which the major domo said was
the line of wall that encompassed the ancient city.
[Engraving 5: Hacienda of Xcanchakan]
It was nearly dark when we reached the stately hacienda of Xcanchakan,
one of the three finest in Yucatan, and containing nearly seven hundred
souls. The plate opposite represents the front of this hacienda. The
house is perhaps one of the best in the country, and being within one
day's ride of the capital, and accessible by calesa, it is a favourite
residence of its venerable proprietor. The whole condition of the
hacienda showed that it was often subject to the master's eye, and the
character of that master may be judged of from the fact that his major
domo, the same who was attendant upon us, had been with him twenty-six
years.
I have given the reader some idea of a hacienda in Yucatan, with its
cattle-yard, its great tanks of water and other accessories. All these
were upon a large and substantial scale, equal to any we had seen; and
there was one little refinement in their arrangement, which, though
not, perhaps, intended for that purpose, could not fail to strike the
eye of a stranger. The passage to the well was across the corridor,
and, sitting quietly in the shade, the proprietor could see every day,
passing and repassing, all the women and girls belonging to the estate.
Our friend the cura of Tekoh was still with us, and the Indians of the
hacienda were within his curacy. Again immediately upon our arrival the
bell of the church was tolled to announce his arrival to the sick,
those who wished to confess, marry, or be baptized. This over, it
struck the solemn note of the _oracion_, or vesper prayers. All rose,
and, with uncovered heads stood silent till the last note died away,
all, according to the beautiful injunction of the Catholic Church,
breathing an inward prayer. Then they bade each other a _buenas
noches_, each kissed the cura's hand, and then, with his petata, or
straw hat, in his hand, came to us, bowing respectfully, and wishing
each of us also the good night.
The cura still considered us on his hands, and, in order to entertain
us, requested the major domo to get up a dance of the Indians. Very
soon we heard the sound of the violins and the Indian drum. This latter
consists of a hollow log about three feet long, with a piece of
parchment stretched over the end, on which an Indian, holding it under
his left arm, beats with his right hand. It is the same instrument
known to the inhabitants at the time of the conquest by the name of
_tunkul_ and is the favourite now. Going out into the back corridor, we
saw the musicians sitting at one end, before the door of the chapel; on
one side of the corridor were the women, and on the other the men. For
some time there was no dancing, until, at length, at the instance of
the cura, the major domo gave his directions, and a young man stood up
in the middle of the corridor. Another, with a pocket-handkerchief in
his hand having a knot tied in one end, walked along the line of women,
threw the handkerchief at one, and then returned to his seat. This was
considered a challenge or invitation; but, with a proper prudery, as if
to show that she was not to be had for the asking, she waited some
minutes, then rose, and slowly taking the shawl from her head, placed
herself opposite the young man, at a distance of about ten feet, and
commenced dancing. The dance was called the toros, for the bull. The
movements were slow; occasionally the performers crossed over and
changed places, and when the time ended the lady walked deliberately
off, which either brought the young man to a stand-still, or he went on
dancing, as he liked. The manager or master of ceremonies, who was
called the _bastonero_, again walked along the line, and touched
another lady in the same way with the handkerchief. She again, after
waiting a moment, removed her shawl and took her place on the floor;
and in this way the dance continued, the dancing man being always the
same, and taking the partner provided for him. Afterward the dance was
changed to a Spanish one, in which, instead of castanets, the dancers
from time to time snapped their fingers. This was more lively, and
seemed to please them better than their own, but throughout there was
nothing national or characteristic.
Early in the morning we were roused by loud bursts of music in the
church. The cura was giving them the benefit of his accidental visit by
an early mass. After this we heard music of a different kind. It was
the lash on the back of an Indian. Looking out into the corridor, we
saw the poor fellow on his knees on the pavement, with his arms clasped
around the legs of another Indian, so as to present his back fair to
the lash. At every blow he rose on one knee and sent forth a piercing
cry. He seemed struggling to restrain it, but it burst from him in
spite of all his efforts. His whole bearing showed the subdued
character of the present Indians, and with the last stripe the
expression of his face seemed that of thankfulness for not getting
more. Without uttering a word, he crept to the major domo, took his
hand, kissed it, and walked away. No sense of degradation crossed his
mind. Indeed so humbled is this once fierce people, that they have a
proverb of their own, "Los Indies no oigan si no por las nalgas"--"The
Indians cannot hear except through their backs," and the cura related
to us a fact which indicates an abasement of character perhaps never
found in any other people. In a village not far distant, the name of
which I have lost, they have a fiesta with a scenic representation
called Shtol. The scene is laid at the time of the conquest. The
Indians of the village gather within a large place enclosed by poles,
and are supposed to be brought together by an invasion of the
Spaniards. An old man rises and exhorts them to defend their country;
if need be, to die for it. The Indians are roused, but in the midst of
his exhortations a stranger enters in the dress of a Spaniard and armed
with a musket. The sight of this stranger throws them all into
consternation; he fires the musket, and they fall to the ground. He
binds the chief; carries him off captive, and the play is ended.
[Engraving 6: Gateway at Mucuyche]
After breakfast the cura left us to return to his village, and we set
out to continue our journey to Uxmal. Our luggage was sent off by
Indians of the hacienda, and the major domo accompanied us on
horseback. Our road was by a bridle path over the same stony country,
through thick woods. The whole way it lay through the lands of the
provisor, all wild, waste, and desolate, and showing the fatal effects
of accumulation in the hands of large landed proprietors. In two hours
we saw rising before us the gate of the hacienda of Mucuyche. To the
astonishment of the gaping Indians, the doctor, as he wheeled his
horse, shot a hawk that was hovering over the pinnacle of the gateway,
and we rode up to the house.
I trust the reader has not forgotten this fine hacienda. It was the
same to which, on our former visit, we had been borne on the shoulders
of Indians, and in which we had taken a bath in a senote, never to be
forgotten. We were once more on the hands of our old friend Don Simon
Peon. The whole hacienda, horses, mules, and Indians, were at our
disposal. It was but ten o'clock, and we intended to continue our
journey to Uxmal, but first we resolved upon another bath in the
senote. My first impression of the beauty of this fancy bathing-place
did not deceive me, and the first glance satisfied me that I incurred
no risk in introducing to it a stranger. A light cloud of almost
imperceptible dust, ascribed to the dripping of the waters of the rainy
season, or perhaps made visible by the rays of the midday sun, rested
on the surface, but underneath were the same crystal fluid and the same
clear bottom. Very soon we were in the water, and before we came out we
resolved to postpone our journey till the next day, for the sake of an
evening bath.
[Engraving 7: A Senote]
As the reader is now on ground which I trust he has travelled before, I
shall merely state that the next day we rode on to the hacienda of San
Jose, where we stopped to make some preparations, and on the fifteenth,
at eleven o'clock, we reached the hacienda of Uxmal.
It stood in its suit of sombre gray, with cattleyard, large trees, and
tanks, the same as when we left it, but there were no friends of old to
welcome us: the Delmonico major domo had gone to Tobasco, and the other
had been obliged to leave on account of illness. The mayoral remembered
us, but we did not know him; and we determined to pass on and take up
our abode immediately in the ruins. Stopping but a few minutes, to give
directions about the luggage, we mounted again, and in ten minutes,
emerging from the woods, came out upon the open field in which, grand
and lofty as when we saw it before, stood the House of the Dwarf; but
the first glance showed us that a year had made great changes. The
sides of the lofty structure, then bare and naked, were now covered
with high grass, bushes, and weeds, and on the top were bushes and
young trees twenty feet high. The House of the Nuns was almost
smothered, and the whole field was covered with a rank growth of grass
and weeds, over which we could barely look as we rode through. The
foundations, terraces, and tops of the buildings were overgrown, weeds
and vines were rioting and creeping on the facades, and mounds,
terraces, and ruins were a mass of destroying verdure. A strong and
vigorous nature was struggling for mastery over art, wrapping the city
in its suffocating embraces, and burying it from sight. It seemed as if
the grave was closing over a friend, and we had arrived barely in time
to take our farewell.
Amid this mass of desolation, grand and stately as when we left it,
stood the Casa del Gobernador, but with all its terraces covered, and
separated from us by a mass of impenetrable verdure.
On the left of the field was an overgrown milpa, along the edge of
which a path led in front of this building. Following this path, we
turned the corner of the terrace, and on the farthest side dismounted,
and tied our horses. The grass and weeds were above our heads, and we
could see nothing. The mayoral broke a way through them, and we reached
the foot of the terrace. Working our way over the stones with much
toil, we reached the top of the highest terrace. Here, too, the grass
and weeds were of the same rank growth. We moved directly to the wall
at the east end, and entered the first open door. Here the mayoral
wished us to take up our abode; but we knew the localities better than
he did, and, creeping along the front as close to the wall as possible,
cutting some of the bushes, and tearing apart and trampling down
others, we reached the centre apartment. Here we stopped. Swarms of
bats, roused by our approach, fluttered and flew through the long
chamber, and passed out at the doors.
The appearance of things was not very promising for a place of
residence. There were two salas, each sixty feet long; that in front
had three large doors, opening upon the encumbered terrace, and the
other had no windows and but one door. In both there was an extreme
sensation of closeness and dampness, with an unpleasant smell, and in
the back room was a large accumulation of dirt and rubbish. Outside,
high grass and weeds were growing into the very doorway. We could not
move a step, and all view was completely cut off. After the extreme
heat of the sun out of doors, we were in a profuse perspiration from
climbing up the terrace, and the dank atmosphere induced a feeling of
chilliness which made us reflect seriously upon what we had not
sufficiently regarded before.
Throughout Yucatan "el campo," or the country, is considered unhealthy
in the rainy season. We had arrived in Yucatan counting upon the
benefit of the whole dry season, which generally begins in November and
lasts till May; but this year the rains had continued longer than
usual, and they were not yet over. The proprietors of haciendas were
still cautious about visiting them, and confined themselves to the
villages and towns. Among all the haciendas, Uxmal had a reputation
pre-eminent for its unhealthiness. Every person who had ever been at
work among the ruins had been obliged by sickness to leave them. Mr.
Catherwood had had sad experience, and this unhealthiness was not
confined to strangers. The Indians suffered every season from fevers;
many of them were at that time ill, and the major domo had been obliged
to go away. All this we had been advised of in Merida, and had been
urged to postpone our visit; but as this would have interfered
materially with our plan, and as we had with us a "medico" who could
cure "biscos," we determined to risk it. On the spot, however,
perceiving the dampness of the apartments and the rankness of
vegetation, we felt that we had been imprudent; but it was too late to
draw back, even if we had wished to do so. We agreed that we were
better on this high terrace than at the hacienda, which stood low, and
had around it great tanks of water, mantled with green, and wearing a
very fever-and-aguish aspect. We therefore set to work immediately to
make the best of our condition.
The mayoral left us to take the horses back to the hacienda, and give
directions about the luggage, and we had only a little Indian boy to
help us. Him we employed to clear with his machete a space before the
principal doorway, and in order to change as quickly as possible the
damp, unwholesome atmosphere within, we undertook to kindle a fire
ourselves. For this purpose we made a large collection of leaves and
brush, which we placed in one corner of the back corridor, and, laying
stones at the bottom, built up a pile several feet high, and set fire
to it. The blaze crept through the pile, burning the light combustible
stuff, and went out. We kindled it again, and the result was the same.
Several times we thought we had succeeded, but the dampness of the
place and of the materials baffled our efforts, and extinguished the
flame. We exhausted all our odd scraps of paper and other availables,
and were left with barely a spark of fire to begin anew. The only
combustible we had left was gunpowder, of which we made what the boys
call a squib, by wetting a quantity of it, and this, done up in a ball,
we ignited under the pile. It did not answer fully, but gave us
encouragement, and we made a larger ball of the same, which we ignited
with a slow match. It blew our pile to atoms, and scattered the
materials in all directions. Our ingenuity had now been taxed to the
uttermost, and our resources were exhausted. In extremity we called in
the boy.
He had, in the mean time, been more successful; for, continuing the
work at which we had set him, with characteristic indifference taking
no notice of our endeavours, he had cleared a space of several yards
around the door. This admitted a sunbeam, which, like the presence of a
good spirit, gladdened and cheered all within its reach. We intimated
to him by signs that we wanted a fire, and, without paying any respect
to what we had done, he began in his own way, with a scrap of cotton,
which he picked up from the ground, and, lighting it, blew it gently in
his folded hands till it was all ignited. He then laid it on the floor,
and, throwing aside all the material we had been using, looked around
carefully, and gathered up some little sticks, not larger than matches,
which he laid against the ignited cotton, with one point on the ground
and the other touching the fire. Then kneeling down, he encircled the
nascent fire with his two hands, and blew gently on it, with his mouth
so close as almost to touch it. A slight smoke rose above the palms of
his hands, and in a few minutes he stopped blowing. Placing the little
sticks carefully together, so that all their points touched the fire,
he went about picking up others a little larger than the first, and
laying them in order one by one. With the circumference of his hands a
little extended, he again began blowing gently; the smoke rose a little
stronger than before. From time to time he gently changed the position
of the sticks, and resumed his blowing. At length he stopped, but
whether in despair or satisfied with the result seemed doubtful. He had
a few little sticks with a languishing fire at one end, which might be
extinguished by dropping a few tears over it. We had not only gone
beyond this but had raised a large flame, which had afterward died
away. Still there was a steadiness, an assurance in his manner that
seemed to say he knew what he was about. At all events, we had nothing
to do but watch him. Making a collection of larger sticks, and again
arranging them in the same way as before, taking care not to put them
so close together as to smother the fire, with a circumference too
large for the space of his hands, but of materials so light as easily
to be thrown into confusion, he again commenced blowing, so gently as
not to disturb a single stick, and yet to the full power that the
arrangement would bear. The wood seemed to feel the influence of his
cherishing care, and a full body of smoke rose up to gladden us, and
bring tears into his eyes. With the same imperturbable industry,
unconscious of our admiration, he went on again, having now got up to
sticks as large as the finger. These he coaxed along with many tears,
and at the next size be saved his own wind and used his petata, or
straw hat. A gentle blaze rose in the whole centre of the pile; still
he coaxed it along, and by degrees brought on sticks as large as his
arm, which, by a gentle waving of his hat, in a few minutes were all
ignited. Our uncertainty was at an end. The whole pile was in a blaze,
and all four of us went busily to work gathering fuel. There was no
necessity for dry wood; we cut down bushes, and carried them in green;
all burned together; the flames extended, and the heat became so great
that we could not approach to throw on more. In our satisfaction with
the result we did not stop to read the moral of the lesson taught us by
the Indian boy. The flames were fast rectifying the damp, unwholesome
atmosphere, and inducing more warm and genial sensations. Very soon,
however, this bettering of our house's condition drove us out of doors.
The smoke rolled through the long apartment, and, curling along the
roof, passed into the front sala, where, dividing, it rushed through
the doors in three dense bodies, and rolled up the front of the palace.
We sat down outside, and watched it as it rolled away.
While this was going on, the mayoral crawled along the same path by
which we had ascended, and told us that the luggage had arrived. How it
could be got to us seemed a problem. The slight clearing on the upper
terrace gave us a view of the lower one, which was an unbroken mass of
bushes and weeds ten or twelve feet high. Perhaps half an hour had
elapsed, when we saw a single Indian ascend the platform of the second
terrace, with his machete slowly working his way toward us. Very soon
the top of a long box was seen rising above the same terrace,
apparently tottering and falling back, but rising again and coming on
steadily, with an Indian under it, visible from time to time through
the bushes. Toward the foot of the terrace on which we were it
disappeared, and after a few minutes rose to the top. Holding on with
both hands to the strap across his forehead, with every nerve strung,
and the veins of his forehead swelled almost to bursting, his face and
his whole body dripping with sweat, he laid his load at our feet. A
long line followed; staggering, panting, and trembling, they took the
loads from their backs, and deposited them at the door. They had
carried these loads three leagues, or nine miles, and we paid them
eighteen and three quarter cents, being at the rate of a _medio_, or
six and a quarter cents, per league. We gave them a medio extra for
bringing the things up the terrace, and the poor fellows were thankful
and happy.
In the mean time the fire was still burning, and the smoke rushing out.
We set the Indians at work on the terrace with their machetes, and as
the smoke rolled away we directed them to sweep out the apartments. For
brooms they had merely to cut a handful of bushes, and to shovel out
the dirt they had their hands. This over, we had our luggage carried
in, set up our beds in the back sala, and swung our hammocks in the
front. At nightfall the Indians left us, and we were again alone in the
palace of unknown kings.
We had reached the first point of our journey; we were once more at the
ruins of Uxmal. It was nearly two years since we originally set out in
search of American ruins, and more than a year since we were driven
from this place. The freshness and enthusiasm with which we had first
come upon the ruins of an American city had perhaps gone, but our
feelings were not blunted, and all the regret which we had felt in
being obliged to leave was more than counterbalanced by the
satisfaction of returning.
It was in this spirit that, as evening came on, we swung in our
hammocks and puffed away all troubles. The bats, retiring to their
nightly haunt, seemed startled by the blaze of our fire. Owls and other
birds of darkness sent up their discordant cries from the woods, and as
the evening waned we found ourselves debating warmly the great question
of excitement at home, whether M'Leod ought to be hanged or not.
As a measure of precaution, and in order to have the full benefit of a
medical man's company, we began immediately upon a course of preventive
treatment, by way of putting ourselves on the vantage ground against
fever. As we were all in perfect health, Dr. Cabot thought such a
course could not hurt us. This over, we threw more wood upon the pile
and went to bed.
Up to this time our course had been before the wind. Our journey from
Merida had again been a sort of triumphal procession. We had been
passed from hacienda to hacienda, till we fell into the hospitable
hands of Don Simon Peon, and we were now in absolute possession of the
ruins of Uxmal. But very soon we found that we had to encounter
troubles from which neither Don Simon, nor the government, nor
recommendations to the hospitality of citizens of the interior, could
afford us protection. Early in the evening a few straggling moschetoes
had given us notice of the existence of these free and independent
citizens of Yucatan; but while we were swinging in our hammocks and the
fire burned brightly, they had not troubled us much. Our heads,
however, were hardly upon our pillows, before the whole population
seemed to know exactly where they could have us, and, dividing into
three swarms, came upon us as if determined to lift us up and eject us
bodily from the premises. The flame and volumes of smoke which had
rolled through the building, in ridding us of the damp, unwholesome
atmosphere, seemed only to have started these torments from their
cracks and crevices, and filled them With thirst for vengeance or for
blood. I spare the reader farther details of our first night at Uxmal,
but we all agreed that another such would drive as forever from the
ruins.