Ruins of Nohpat.--A lofty Mound.--Grand View.--Sculptured Human
Figure.--Terraces.--Huge sculptured Figure.--Other Figures.--Skull and
Cross-bones.--Situation of Ruins.--Journey to Kabah.--Thatched
Huts.--Arrival at the Ruins.--Return to the Village.--Astonishment
of the Indians.--Valuable Servant.--Festival of Corpus Alma.--A
plurality of Saints.--How to put a Saint under Patronage.--A
Procession.--Fireworks.--A Ball.--Excess of Female Population.--A
Dance.
[Engraving 32: Mound at Nohpat]
The next day we set out for another ruined city. It lay on the road to
Uxmal, and was the same which I had visited on my first return from
Ticul, known by the name of Nohpat. At the distance of a league we
turned off from the main road to the left, and, following a narrow
milpa path, in fifteen minutes reached the field of ruins. One mound
rose high above the rest, holding aloft a ruined building, as shown in
the preceding engraving. At the foot of this we dismounted and tied our
horses. It was one hundred and fifty feet high on the slope, and about
two hundred and fifty feet long at the base. At the top, the mound,
with the building upon it, had separated and fallen apart, and while
one side still supported part of the edifice, the other presented the
appearance of a mountain slide. Cocome, our guide, told us that the
separation had happened only with the floods of the last rainy season.
We ascended on the fallen side, and, reaching the top, found,
descending on the south side, a gigantic staircase, overgrown, but with
the great stone steps still in their places, and almost entire. The
ruined building on the top consisted of a single corridor, but three
feet five inches wide, and, with the ruins of Nohpat at our feet, we
looked out upon a great desolate plain, studded with overgrown mounds,
of which we took the bearings and names as known to the Indians; toward
the west by north, startling by the grandeur of the buildings and their
height above the plain, with no decay visible, and at this distance
seeming perfect as a living city, were the ruins of Uxmal. Fronting us
was the great Casa del Gobernador, apparently so near that we almost
looked into its open doors, and could have distinguished a man moving
on the terrace; and yet, for the first two weeks of our residence at
Uxmal, we did not know of the existence of this place, and, wanting the
clearings that had been made at Uxmal, no part of it was visible from
the terraces or buildings there.
[Engraving 33: Colossal Stone Figure]
Descending the mound, we passed around by the side of the staircase,
and rose upon an elevated platform, in the centre of which was a huge
and rude round stone, like that called the picote in the courtyards at
Uxmal. At the base of the steps was a large flat stone, having
sculptured upon it a colossal human figure in bas-relief, which is
represented in the following engraving. The stone measures eleven feet
four inches in length, and three feet ten in breadth, and lies on its
back, broken in two in the middle. Probably it once stood erect at the
base of the steps, but, thrown down and broken, has lain for ages with
its face to the sky, exposed to the floods of the rainy season. The
sculpture is rude and worn, and the lines were difficult to make out.
The Indians said that it was the figure of a king of the antiguos, and
no doubt it was intended as a portrait of some lord or cacique.
At a short distance to the southeast of the courtyard was another
platform or terrace, about twenty feet high and two hundred feet
square, on two sides of which were ranges, of buildings standing at
right angles to each other. One of them had two stories, and trees
growing out of the walls and on the top, forming the most picturesque
ruins we had seen in the country. As we approached it Doctor Cabot was
climbing up a tree at the corner to get on the roof in pursuit of a
bird, and, in doing so, started a gigantic lizard, which went bounding
among the trees and along the cornice till he buried himself in a large
fissure in the front.
Beyond this was another terrace, having on it ruined buildings
overgrown with trees. Mr. Catherwood was tempted to sketch them merely
on account of their picturesque effect, and while we were on the ground
they seemed to us the most touching and interesting of any we had seen;
but as they contribute nothing to illustrate the architecture and art
of these unknown people, we do not present them.
Leaving this neighbourhood, and passing by many ruined buildings and
mounds, at the distance of six or seven hundred feet we reached an open
place, forming the most curious and interesting part of this field of
ruins. It was in the vicinity of three mounds, lines drawn from which
to each other would form a right angle, and in the open space were some
sculptured monuments, shattered, fallen, and some of them half buried.
Strange heads and bodies lay broken and scattered, so that at first we
did not discover their connexion; but, by examining carefully, we found
two fragments, which, from the shape of the broken surfaces, seemed to
be parts of one block, one of them representing a huge head, and the
other a huger body. The latter we set up in its proper position, and
with some difficulty, by means of poles, and ropes which the Indians
took from their sandals, we got the other part on the top, and fitted
in its place, as it had once stood. The following engraving represents
this monument. It was a solid block of stone, measuring four feet three
inches high, and one foot six inches thick, and represents a human
figure in a crouching posture, with the face, having a hideous
expression, turned over the shoulder, almost behind. The headdress is a
representation of the head of a wild beast, the ears, eyes, teeth, and
jaws being easily distinguishable. The sculpture is rude, and the whole
appearance uncouth and ugly. Probably it was one of the idols
worshipped by the people of this ancient city.
[Engraving 34: Sculptured Stone Figure]
There were others of the same general character, of which the sculpture
was more defaced and worn; and, besides these, there were monuments of
a different character, half buried, and dispersed without apparent
order, but which evidently had an adaptation to each other; after some
examination, we made out what we considered the arrangement in which
they had stood, and had them set up according to our combination. The
following engraving represents these stones. They vary from one foot
four inches to one foot ten inches in length.
[Engraving 35: Skull and Crossbones]
Each stone is two feet three inches high. The subject is the skull and
cross-bones. The sculpture is in bas-relief and the carving good, and
still clear and distinct. Probably this was the holy place of the city,
where the idols or deities were presented to the people with the
emblems of death around them.
The ruins lie on the common lands of the village of Nohcacab, at least
so say the alcaldes of that place, but Don Simon Peon claims that they
are within the old boundaries of the hacienda of Uxmal, and the
settling of the question is not worth the expense of a survey. The name
Nohpat is compounded of two Maya words, which signify a great lord or
senor, and this is all the information I was able to collect about this
ancient city. If we had met with it on our former journey we should
have planted ourselves, and given it a thorough exploration. The mounds
and vestiges of buildings were perhaps as numerous as those of Uxmal,
but they were all ruined. The day was like the finest of October at
home, and, as a relief from the heat of the sun, there was a constant
and refreshing breeze. The country was open, or studded with trees
barely enough to adorn the landscape, and give picturesque beauty to
the ruins. It was cut up by numerous paths, and covered with grass like
a fine piece of upland at home, and for the first and only time in the
country we found pleasure in a mere ramble over fields. Bernaldo came
out from the village with a loaded Indian at the precise moment when we
wanted dinner, and altogether it was one of the most agreeable and
satisfactory days that we passed among the relics of the antiguos.
[Engraving 36: Street in the Village of Nohcacab]
The next day, being the eighth of January, we set out for the ruins of
Kabah. Our direction was south, on the camino real to Bolonchen. The
descent from the great rocky table on which the convent stands was on
this side rough, broken, and precipitous. We passed through a long
street having on each side thatched huts, occupied exclusively by
Indians. Some had a picturesque appearance, and the engraving which
follows represents one of them. At the end of the street, as well as at
the ends of the three other principal streets, which run toward the
cardinal points, were a small chapel and altar, at which the
inhabitants of the village might offer up prayers on leaving it, and
thanks for their safe return. Beyond, the road was stony, bordered on
both sides by scrubby trees and bushes; but as we advanced we passed
through an open country, adorned with large forest trees. At the
distance of two leagues we turned off by a milpa path on the left; and
very soon found ourselves among trees, bushes, and a thick, overgrown
foliage, which, after the fine open field of Nohpat, we regarded as
among the vicissitudes of our fortunes. Beyond we saw through an
opening a lofty mound, overgrown, and having upon it the ruins of a
building like the House of the Dwarf, towering above every other
object, and proclaiming the site of another lost and deserted city.
Moving on, again, through openings in the trees, we had a glimpse of a
great stone edifice, with its front apparently entire. We had hardly
expressed our admiration before we saw another, and at a few horses'
length a third. Three great buildings at once, with facades which, at
that distance, and by the imperfect glimpses we had of them, showed no
imperfection, and seemed entire. We were taken by surprise. Our
astonishment and wonder were again roused; and we were almost as much
excited as if this was the first ruined city we had seen.
Our guides cut a path for us, and with great difficulty we went on till
we found ourselves at the foot of an overgrown terrace in front of the
nearest building. Here we stopped; the Indians cleared a place for our
horses, we secured them, and, climbing up a fallen wall of the terrace,
out of which large trees were growing, came out upon the platform, and
before us was a building with its walls entire, its front more fallen,
but the remains showing that it had once been more richly decorated
than any at Uxmal. We crossed the terrace, walked up the steps, and
entering its open doors, ranged through every apartment. Then we
descended the back terrace, and rose upon a high mound, having a great
stone staircase different from anything we had seen, and, groping our
way among the trees, passed on to the next; and the third presented a
facade almost entire, with trees growing before it and on the top, as
if nature and rain had combined to produce their most picturesque
effect. On the way we had glimpses of other buildings, separated from
us by a thick growth of underwood; and after a hard but most
interesting morning's work, we returned to the first building.
Since we first set out in search of ruins we had not been taken so much
by surprise. During the whole time of our residence at Uxmal, and until
my forced visit to Ticul, and fortunate intimacy with the cura Carillo,
I had not even heard of the existence of such a place. It was
absolutely unknown; and the Indians who guided us having conducted us
to these buildings, of all the rest seemed as ignorant as ourselves.
They told us, in fact, that these were all; but we could not believe
them; we felt confident that more lay buried in the woods, and, tempted
by the variety and novelty of what we saw, we determined not to go away
until we had discovered all. So far, since we began at Nohcacab, we had
"done up" a city a day, but we had now a great field of labour before
us, and we saw at once that it was to be attended with many
difficulties.
There was no rancho, and no habitation of any kind nearer than the
village. The buildings themselves offered good shelter; with the
necessary clearings they could be made extremely agreeable, and on many
considerations it was advisable again to take up our abode among the
ruins; but this arrangement was not without its dangers. The season of
El Norte seemed to have no end; every day there was rain; the foliage
was so thick that the hot sun could not dry the moisture before another
rain came, and the whole country was enveloped in a damp, unwholesome
atmosphere. Besides, unluckily for us, it was a season of great
abundance in the village; the corn crop had been good; the Indians had
plenty to eat, and did not care to work. Already we had found
difficulty in hiring them; it would require constant urging and our
continual presence to secure them from day to day. As to getting them
to remain with us, it was out of the question. We determined,
therefore, to continue our residence at the convent, and go out to the
ruins every day.
Late in the afternoon we returned to the village, and in the evening
had a levee of visiters. The sensation we had created in the village
had gone on increasing, and the Indians were really indisposed to work
for us at all. The arrival of a stranger even from Merida or Campeachy
was an extraordinary event, and no Ingleses had ever been seen there
before. The circumstance that we had come to work among the ruins was
wonderful, incomprehensible. Within the memory of the oldest Indians
these remains had never been disturbed. The account of the digging up
of the bones in San Francisco had reached them, and they had much
conversation with each other and with the padrecito about us. It was a
strange thing, they said, that men with strange faces, and a language
they could not understand, had come among them to disinter their ruined
cities; and, simple as their ancestors when the Spaniards first came
among them, they said that the end of the world was nigh.
It was late the next day when we reached the ruins. We could not set
out before the Indians, for they might disappoint us altogether, and we
could do nothing until they came, but, once on the ground, we soon had
them at work. On both sides we watched each other closely, though from
somewhat different motives: they from utter inability to comprehend our
plans and purposes, and we from the fear that we should get no work out
of them. If one of us spoke they all stopped to listen; if we moved,
they stopped to gaze upon us. Mr. Catherwood's drawing materials,
tripod, sextant, and compass were very suspicious, and occasionally
Doctor Cabot filled up the measure of their astonishment by bringing
down a bird as it flew through the air. By the time they were fairly
broken in to know what they had to do, it was necessary to return to
the village.
The same labour was repeated the next day with a new set of men; but,
by continual supervision and urging, we managed to get considerable
work done. Albino was a valuable auxiliary; indeed, without him I could
hardly have got on at all. We had not fairly discovered his
intelligence until we left Uxmal. There all had a beaten track to move
in, but on the road little things were constantly occurring in which he
showed an ingenuity and a fertility of resource that saved us from many
annoyances. He had been a soldier, and at the siege of Campeachy had
received a sabre-cut in a fleshy part of the body, which rather
intimated that he was moving in an opposite direction when the sabre
overtook him. Having received neither pay for his services nor pension
for his wound, he was a little disgusted with patriotism and fighting
for his country. He was by trade a blacksmith, which business, on the
recommendation of Dona Joaquina Peon, he had given up to enter our
service. His usefulness and capacity were first clearly brought out at
Kabah. Knowing the character of the Indians, speaking their language,
and being but a few degrees removed from them by blood, he could get
out of them twice as much work as I could. Him, too, they could ask
questions about us, and lighten labour by the indulgence of social
humour, and very soon I had only to give instructions as to what work
was to be done, and leave the whole management of it to him. This
doubled our effective force, as we could work with two sets of Indians
in different places at the same time, and gave Albino a much greater
value than that of a common servant. He had one bad habit, which was
that of getting the fever and ague. This he was constantly falling
into, and, with all our efforts, we could never break him of it, but,
unluckily, we never set him a good example. In the mean time Bernaldo
sustained his culinary reputation; and, avoiding the bad habit of
Albino and his masters, while all the rest of us were lank as the
village dogs of that country, his cheeks seemed always ready to burst
open.
While we were working at the ruins, the people in the village were
losing no time. On the eleventh began the fiesta of Corpus Alma, a
festival of nine days' observance in honour of Santo Cristo del Amor.
Its opening was announced by the ringing of church bells and firing of
rockets, which, fortunately, as we were away at the ruins, we avoided
hearing; but in the evening came the procession and the baile, to which
we were formally invited by a committee, consisting of the padrecito,
the alcalde, and a much more important person than either, styled El
Patron del Santo, or the Patron of the Saint.
I have mentioned that Nohcacab was the most backward and thoroughly
Indian of any village we had visited. With this strongly-marked Indian
character, its church government is somewhat peculiar, and differs, I
believe, from that of all the other villages. Besides smaller saints,
the favourites of individuals, it has nine principal ones, who have
been selected as special objects of veneration: San Mateo, the patron,
and Santa Barbara, the patroness of the village; Nuestra Senora de la
Concepcion; Nuestra Senora del Rosario; El Senor del Transfiguracion;
El Senor de Misericordia; San Antonio, the patron of souls, and El
Santo Cristo del Amor. Each of these saints, while acting as patron in
general, is also under the special care of a patron in particular.
The process of putting a saint under patronage is peculiar. Among the
images distributed around the walls of the church, whenever one is
observed to attract particular attention, as, for instance, if Indians
are found frequently kneeling before it, and making offerings, the
padre requires of the cacique twelve Indians to serve and take care of
the saint, who are called mayoles. These are furnished according to the
requisition, and they elect a head, but not from their own number, who
is called the patron, and to them is intrusted the guardianship of the
saint. The padre, in his robes of office, administers an oath, which is
sanctified by sprinkling them with holy water. The patron is sworn to
watch over the interests of the saint, to take care of all the candles
and other offerings presented to him, and to see that his fete is
properly observed; and the mayoles are sworn to obey the orders of the
patron in all things touching the custody and service of the saint. One
of these saints, to whom a patron had been assigned, was called El
Santo Cristo del Amor, the addition having reference to the love of the
Saviour in laying down his life for man. The circumstance of the
Saviour being reverenced as a saint was as new to us as that of a saint
having a patron. It was the fiesta of this saint which was now
celebrated, and to which we were formally invited. We accepted the
invitation, but, having had a hard day's work, we were taking supper
rather leisurely, when the patron came in a hurry to tell as that the
procession was ready, and the saint was only waiting for us. Not
wishing to put him to this inconvenience, we hurried through our meal,
and proceeded to the church.
The procession had formed in the body of the church, and at the head of
it, in the doorway, were Indians bearing the cross. Upon our arrival it
began to move with a loud chant, and under the direction of the patron.
Next to the cross were four Indians, bearing on a barrow the figure of
the saint, being that of the Saviour on the cross, about a foot high,
and fastened against a broad wooden back with a canopy overhead, and a
small looking-glass on each side. This was followed by the patron and
his mayoles, the padrecito and ourselves, the vecinos, or white people
of the village, and a long train of Indian men and women, bareheaded,
in white dresses, and all bearing long lighted candles. Moving down the
great steps of the church with a loud chant, and the cross and the
figure of the saint conspicuous under the light of hundreds of candles,
the coup d'[oe]il of the procession was solemn and imposing. Its march
was toward the house of the patron, and, on turning up the street that
led to it, we noticed a rope stretched along it for perhaps a hundred
yards, and presently a piece of fireworks was set off, called by them
the idas, or goers, and known by pyrotechnists among us as flying
pigeons. The flaming ball whizzed along the rope backward and forward,
scattering fire on the heads of the people underneath, and threw the
whole procession into confusion and laughter. The saint was hurried
into a place of security, and the people filed off on each side of the
rope, out of reach of the sparks. The idas went off with universal
applause, and showed that the custody of the saint had not been placed
in unworthy hands. This over, the chant was resumed, and the procession
moved on till it reached the house of the patron, at the door of which
the padrecito chanted a salve, and then the saint was borne within. The
house consisted of a single long room, having at one end a temporary
altar, adorned with flowers, and at the other a table, on which were
spread dulces, bread, cheese, and various compound mixtures both for
eating and drinking.
The saint was set up on the altar, and in a few minutes the patron led
the way, through a door opposite that by which we had entered, into an
oblong enclosure about one hundred feet long and forty wide, having an
arbour of palm leaves overhead. The floor was of hard earth, and seats
were arranged around the sides. All the vecinos followed, and we, as
strangers and attendants of the padrecito and his family, were
conducted to the principal places, being a row of large wooden
arm-chairs, two of which were occupied by the padrecito's mother and
sister. Very soon all the seats were occupied by whites and Mestiza
women, and the whole enclosure, with the exception of a small space for
dancing, was filled up with Indian servants and children sitting on the
ground.
Preparations were immediately made for dancing, and the ball was opened
by the patron of the saint. This patron was not very saintly in his
appearance, but really a most respectable man in his deportment and
character, and in his youth had been the best bull-fighter the village
had ever produced.
He began with the dance called the toros. The brother of the padrecito
acted as master of the ceremonies, and with a pocket-handkerchief
called out the ladies one after the other, until every dancing lady
present had had her turn.
He then took the patron's place, the patron acting as Bastonero in his
stead, and called out again every lady who chose to dance. It was a
_bal champetre_, in which no costume was required, and the brother of
the padrecito, who had opened upon us, as alcalde elect, with a black
dress-coat, white pantaloons, and fur hat, danced in shirt, drawers,
straw hat, and sandals, pieces of leather on the soles of his feet,
with cords wound round nearly up to the calf of the leg.
When he had finished we were solicited to take his place, which,
however, though with some difficulty, we avoided.
I have not yet mentioned, what is a subject of remark throughout
Yucatan, and was particularly manifest at this ball, the great apparent
excess of female population. This excess was said to be estimated at
the rate of two to one; but although it was an interesting subject, and
I was seeking for statistical information which was said to exist, I
could not obtain any authentic information in regard to it. I have no
doubt, however, that there are many more than one woman to one man,
which the men say makes Yucatan a great country to live in. Perhaps
this is one reason why the standard of morality is not very high, and
without wishing to reflect upon our friends in Nohcacab, as this was a
public ball, I cannot help mentioning that one of the most personally
attractive and lady-like looking women at the ball was the amiga of a
married man, whose wife had left him; the best dressed and most
distinguished young lady was the daughter of the padre who died in one
of our rooms, and who, strictly speaking, ought never to have had any
daughters; and in instances so numerous as not to be noticed by the
people, husbands without wives and wives without husbands were mingling
unrestrainedly together. Many of the white people could not speak
Spanish, and the conversation was almost exclusively in the Maya
language.
It was the first time we had appeared in society, and we were really
great lions--in fact, equal to an entire menagerie. Whenever we moved,
all eyes were turned upon us; when we spoke, all were silent; and when
we spoke with each other in English, all laughed. In the interlude for
refreshments, they had seen us eat, and all that they wanted was to see
us dance. The padrecito told us we should be obliged to come out. A
dance was introduced called Saca el suyo, or "take out your own," which
brought us all out. The patron then called out the mother of the
padrecito, a heavy old lady, whose dancing days were long since over,
but she went through her part convulsed with laughter, and then called
out her son, the padrecito, who, to the great merriment of the whole
company, tried to avoid the challenge, but, once started, showed
himself decidedly the best dancer at the ball. At eleven o'clock the
ball broke up with great good humour; the vecinos lighted their
torches, and all went home in a body, filing off at different streets.
The Indians remained to take their places, and pass the night in the
ball-room, dancing in honour of the saint.
Every evening besides numerous visiters, we had the baile for
recreation. When we did not go, Albino did. His intelligence and
position as our head man gave him a degree of consequence, and admitted
him within the arbour, where he completely eclipsed his masters, and
was considered the best dancer in the place except the padrecito.