bound to marry when he reached the age of twenty years. Polygamy was not
forbidden; a man could have as many wives as he could afford to support.
There were no patronymic names. Mothers chose names for their children
as soon as they were born; these names were generally connected with the
month in which the child was born, or some circumstance connected with
the event. When each boy grew up, he was given a name by the medicine
man, and by an act of especial bravery he might gain a third name.
The laws against stealing and other crimes were strictly enforced,
although unwritten, the penalties probably assigned in accordance with
ancient customs.
The Aztecs were essentially musical, as their descendants are now. Their
songs and hymns transmitted the traditions of their race, and are
carefully taught in the schools. They had a sort of theatrical
exhibition, in which the faces of the actors were hid with masks
representing birds or animals.
The relic which gives the best testimony of the mental powers of the
Aztecs is their calendar, preserved for centuries from destruction, and
now built into the cathedral of the city of Mexico. It was carved in the
year 1512 A.D., and brought to the ancient Tenochtitlan from the spot
where it was made. When it had nearly reached its destination, it broke
down the floating bridge on which it was loaded, and was precipitated
into the lake. The priest superintending the moving, and many of his
assistants, were drowned, but it was raised with great difficulty from
the water, and brought to the great temple located by Tizoc and
Ahuitzotl, where it was inaugurated with human sacrifices.
Not many years later this temple, like many others, was destroyed, and
the huge calendar with other objects of heathen worship were buried in
the surrounding marshes as the best way to get rid of them, by the order
of the Christian priests. It lay hidden for two centuries, until the
17th of December, 1790, when the grade of the pavement in front of the
cathedral was lowered, and it came to light. The Spanish Viceroy then
controlling Mexican affairs allowed the commissioners of the cathedral
to build it into their sacred edifice, on condition that it should be
always preserved and exposed in a public place. It is now, however,
considered as the property of the National Museum.
This zodiac or calendar is twelve feet in diameter, made of a piece of
basalt of immense weight. It gives a clear exposition of the division of
time understood by the Aztecs, into cycles, years, and days. Fifty-two
years constituted a cycle, the year had three hundred and sixty-five
days, with five very unlucky intercalary days, wholly devoted to human
sacrifice. Each year had eighteen months of twenty days each, and these
months four weeks of five days each. The days had delightful names,
such as "Sea Animal," "Small Bird," "Monkey," "Rain,"; not recurring
every week, but different for the twenty different days of the month.
The cardinal points were named "Reed," "House," "Flint," "Rabbit," for
east, west, north, and south. Thus an Aztec might say, "I am going House
on Sea-Animal," which would merely mean that he was starting for the
west on Monday. The months likewise had descriptive names: thus the
third month, which might correspond to our March, was called "Victims
flayed alive," while the more agreeable title for the sixth month, which
we call July, was "Garlands of corn on the necks of idols." As their
writing was by pictures instead of by combinations of letters selected
from an alphabet, they could give a long name in brief space with a few
adroit turns of their writing instrument.
The Mexican archæologist, Leony Gama, considers the stone not only to be
a calendar, but a solar clock, which by means of shadows cast in a
certain manner gave eight intervals of the day between the rising and
setting sun. He adds that the stone clearly shows the dates of the
vernal and autumnal equinoxes, summer and winter solstice. On the other
hand, the antiquarian Chavero is of opinion that the stone could not
have been used as a calendar on account of lacking certain indispensable
elements for the computation of time. He considers it a gigantic votive
monument to the sun, above which sacrifices were offered. Whatever was
the original intention of the sculptures of this great stone, it has
survived them to bear testimony to their attentive notice of the
movements of the earth and heavenly bodies, of their interest in
astronomy, and their accuracy in arithmetical calculation, as well as
their skill in carving and design, and their power to overcome the
mechanical difficulty of moving so huge a mass of stone.
The cycle of the Aztecs was a period of fifty-two years. They believed
that some great catastrophe would occur at the end of one of these
cycles, and therefore approached the termination of each one, at the
interval of fifty-two years, with terror and dismay. On the arrival of
the five unlucky days at the close of the year when the end of the cycle
recurred, they abandoned themselves to despair. They broke in pieces the
little images of their household gods, lighted no fires in their
dwellings, and allowed the holy fires in the temples to burn out. They
destroyed every thing they possessed, and tore their garments, as if
there was to be no further use for earthly comforts.
On the evening of the fifth day a procession moved from the city to the
top of a hill six miles south of the city. There, at midnight, just as
the constellation of the Pleiades reached the zenith, a new fire was
kindled by rubbing sticks over the breast of a human victim. The body of
this victim was thrown to the flames which sprang up from the new-born
fire. Shouts of joy and delight burst forth from the surrounding hills,
the housetops, and terraces, which were crowded with the populace
watching for the result. Torches lighted at the blazing pile were
carried to every home, and kindled with fresh flame every hearthstone.
The sun rose, the new cycle commenced, and the Aztecs felt safe for
fifty-two years more.
Then came the house-cleaning. All the destroyed pots and pans were
replaced by new ones. New clothes, prepared, we must fear, beforehand,
took the place of the old ones. The people, gayly dressed and crowned
with flowers, thronged to the temples to offer up their thanksgiving.
All was joy and merriment; dances and songs were the order of the day,
gifts exchanged. The last celebration of this festival was in 1506.
While the warriors of the Mexicans were engaged in ceaseless raids upon
neighboring tribes, the true occupation of the people was agriculture,
which in their delightful climate well repaid their toil and skill. All
the inhabitants, even in the cities, cultivated the soil, except the
soldiers and the great nobles. The men did all the heavy work, the women
helping them by scattering seed, husking maize, and such light matters.
Canals were cut through sterile lands, for they fully understood the
importance of artificial irrigation, to aid the influence of their rainy
season. The forests which covered the country were preserved by severe
penalties. Ample granaries were provided to contain their harvests.
Such crops, etc., as were available for their lands were known to the
Aztecs, and developed to their full extent. They thoroughly appreciated
and enjoyed the wealth of flowers which nature scattered over the soil.
Flowers were to them an important part of their religious ceremonies;
their soft, brilliant, or gaudy colors had each its peculiar
significance. Out of them the women wove wreaths for the head, and long
festoons for decoration, heaping blossoms in greatest profusion wherever
was festivity and rejoicing. In fact in the Aztec disposition is found
an inheritance of gentleness and mildness, brought with them from
Aztlan, shown in their consideration for women, their industry, their
taste in ornament, and their devotion to flowers. The ferocity of their
religious sacrifices has nothing in common with these other traits of
character. It is as if this dismal feature of their creed were picked up
somewhere on the way during their long wanderings, a dark, bloody thread
interwoven in the soft, tender fabric of their composition. The women
were not oppressed, but ruled their homes peaceably, assisting in the
lighter work of the field, and taking care of the children, preparing
food, and all household requirements.
[Illustration: VASE. MUSEUM AT MEXICO.]
Among the Aztecs was an order of priestesses, who withdrew from the
world for one or more years at the age of twelve or thirteen, and went
to live shut up within the inner courts of the teocalli. Their hair was
cut in a set fashion, common to all, but they were allowed to let it
grow again after one cutting; they were draped in white, without any
decoration or ornament, and always slept in their clothes, "in order to
be ready for work in the morning." The life was one of abstinence and
toil; they carried their eyes always cast down, and bore themselves with
great modesty of deportment, always watched by the sharp eye of a
lady-superior within the walls of their retreat, and outside by vigilant
old men who stood guard by day and night. Their food was plain and
sparing, only at feast-time were they allowed meat, and then because
their accustomed routine was interrupted by unusual exertion. They
assisted at the religious dances of these festivals, their feet and
hands adorned with feathers, and their cheeks painted red. On days of
penance they pricked their ears, and put the blood on their cheeks "as a
religious rouge," says the account; washing it off in a particular basin
destined for that purpose. The slightest variation from the path
prescribed to them was punished by death. Some of the Nahuatl deities
are goddesses, which shows that the sexes were not unequally reverenced.
An important goddess, Coatlicue, or She of the Skirt of Serpents, has a
statue in the court of the museum at Mexico, which is regarded as one
of the best specimens of Aztec workmanship. Like the calendar, it was
found buried in the Plaza Mayor, not far from the cathedral, doubtless
tumbled there by the Spaniards when they destroyed the great teocalli.
It is not beautiful according to ideas of symmetry formed from the Venus
of Milo; it is strange and interesting on account of the quantity of
symbols by which it is overwhelmed. Coatlicue, or Cihuatcotl, or
Cihuacoatl, is the serpent woman, mother of the first human pair in the
world; she is the goddess of the earth, in the night-time, after sunset.
She is, therefore, the mistress of the dead. And then she is the mother
of Quetzalcoatl, the god and hero of the early Nahuatl. This sounds
better than it looks. The upper part is the head of a serpent, whose
body is entwined with that of a woman. The skirt is a web of snakes,
adorned with tassels and feathers. The figure has many hands, as a
symbol of the production-giving power of the earth. The skull at the
girdle shows that on her breast repose her children after death in
eternal slumber.
Such were the Aztecs in 1500, after little more than a century of life
in their new land. Much of their civilization, many of their customs,
they must have caught from the older, longer established, refined court
of the Texcucans, their neighbors at the other end of the lake, whose
dynasty was much older, and whose traditions came down unimpaired from
the cultivated Toltecs, whose remote ancestors, if they came from the
same stem as the Aztecs and wandered to Anahuac from the same shadowy
Aztlan or Huehue-Tlapallan, had yet the advantage of a couple of
centuries of development, and a longer abstinence from the bloody rites
of a savage religion.
The Mexicans were in some sort _parvenus_ on the plateau. They won their
way by their valor in battle, and insisted on recognition by the other
tribes, by superior force or ferocity conquering to themselves a large
portion of the happy land. The neighboring people made way for them, a
few to be their allies; but their ferocious warfare had made them
detested by those who feared them in all the surrounding country, so
that these other kingdoms, republics, or sedentary races saw not
unwillingly the downfall of the haughty Aztec house, even if they did
not actively help its invaders.
In the end, this policy was fatal to all. Once they had gained a
foothold on the plateau, the Conquistadores stopped not until the whole
country was within their grasp.
XII.
THE LAST OF THE MONTEZUMAS.
Ahuitzotl died in 1502. His successor was Motecuhzoma II., the son of
the famous warrior King Axayacatl. Motecuhzoma took the surname of
Xocoyotzin to distinguish him from the first king with his name.
He was thirty-four years old when he came to the throne. He had been
general-in-chief of the armies, as was usual with the heir-apparent to
the throne, and when he was elected king he was fulfilling the office of
high-priest, which was unusual. His demeanor was grave, calm, and
taciturn. He was inflexible in his determination, and admitted no
contradiction, stern and cruel in exacting obedience to his commands;
but extremely credulous and timid to cowardice when his superstitious
fears were aroused.
He is said to have been handsome, of a fine form, slight rather than
robust, with great dignity of manner. His well-formed features wore an
habitual expression of sadness or gloom, even in the early days of his
reign, when the shadow of his destiny had not to all appearance yet
fallen upon him.
When his election was announced to him, he was found sweeping down the
stairs in the great teocalli. He received the message with assured
humility, as one unfit for so high a station. The usual great
preparations were made for his coronation, which was more splendid than
those of his predecessors, graced by the sacrifice of a horde of
captives, won by the young monarch in battle for this purpose.
Nezahualpilli, the wise king of Texcuco, the valued relative and adviser
of the Aztec royal house, made an address at the coronation which has
been preserved.
"Who can doubt," he exclaimed at the close, "that the Aztec empire has
reached the zenith of its greatness! Rejoice, happy people, and thou,
happy youth, doubt not that our Great Deity will keep thee safe upon thy
throne through many long and glorious years."
Now let us try to imagine this young heir to a splendid kingdom, just
ascending the steps of the throne, clothed in all the majesty which the
customs of his country allowed. Soft robes of well chosen colors hung
about him, and over all the beautiful mantle of feather-work which the
Aztecs knew how to make out of the plumage of all the brilliant tropical
birds within their reach. There was no stint of splendor in his
ornaments, neck, wrists, ankles enclasped with gold, and set with
precious stones. A superb head-dress, over which waved a bunch of
feathers, stuck with sparkling jewels, added dignity to his haughty
carriage and grave features.
One hundred years of successful government had made the Aztecs proud.
Their enemies feared them. Surrounding nations sought their friendship
for the sake of peace. The great house of Texcuco had allied itself with
their king in marriage. Mingled in the veins of Montezuma with the
savage blood of the worshippers of Huitzilopochtli, the terrible god of
war, was a gentler strain of the delicate culture of the family of
Nezahualcoyotl. The career of the young monarch seemed clear before him;
it was to be a life of stirring excitement in battle,--a warfare not for
conquest or slaughter on the field, but a holy enterprise to bring back
the necessary material for sacrifice to the gods, in whom he believed so
firmly that the horror of such wholesale destruction of life made not
the slightest impression. In the Aztec wars their enemies were seldom
killed in battle; the great object was to save prisoners alive, in order
to lay them upon their altars.
But these fearful raids upon surrounding populations were only episodes
in the life he proposed to himself. He inherited a splendid palace in a
great city; for although we are now taught to consider the accounts of
Tenochtitlan given by the Spaniards as grossly exaggerated, we must
accept the assumption that in the estimation of himself and his people
his palace was splendid, and that the city was great, and upon this
foundation, since the Spanish statements are unreliable, and accurate
information is lacking, we may draw upon fancy to fill up the picture.
All splendor is comparative; the halls of the Montezumas, never in
contact with the palaces of the Old World, were to be judged upon a
scale of their own. Tenochtitlan was, undoubtedly, the richest city
upon Anahuac. It was built, like Venice, in the midst of waters, upon an
island intersected with canals, and communicating with the mainland by
means of four broad causeways. An aqueduct from Chapultepec brought
fresh water, as the lake was brackish. The streets were laid out in
straight lines and at right angles, following the direction of the
causeways; some of them were the intersecting canals themselves, with
houses facing at once upon the water, and on the other side the street.
Upon the canals floated canoas for pleasure or business, coming from the
suburbs laden with food, vegetables, and fruit, the cargo heaped always
with a profusion of flowers, bright-hued poppies, sweet peas, and the
deep-red blossoms of clover. Above the houses, which were not high, with
flat roofs, or _azoteas_, rose the lofty teocalli, and the walls of the
royal palace which dominated the other buildings.
Bernal Diaz, the companion of Cortés, who is charged with much garrulity
and exaggeration, says that when the Spaniards arrived at the great
causeway leading to the capital they paused, struck with admiration on
seeing so many cities and villages rising from the soil, with the
splendid highway, perfectly level, stretching on to Mexico. They
compared the scene to the enchanted castles described in "Amadis of
Gaul," and as they gazed at the lofty towers, the great temples, and the
white buildings gleaming in the sun and reflected in the waters of the
lake, they asked each other if it was not all a dream. The old
chronicler ends his account with this brief remark: "Now, the whole of
this city is destroyed and not a bit of it left standing."
The life that Montezuma proposed to himself was one of enjoyment and
pleasure. Upon his people he wasted little thought. The country was
prosperous and they were happy, always a docile and domestic population
busy with agriculture, their crops, and their families. It is said that
he used to go out among them like the Sultan in the "Arabian Nights,"
disguised, to see what the occupations of his subjects were, and hear
what they talked about. But this must have been chiefly to fill up his
time, for there was no danger of sedition or conspiracy among the
citizens of his capital. A walk _incognito_ outside its walls, through
the lanes of any one of the surrounding pueblos would have revealed to
him a state of hostility and a longing for his overthrow which might
have taught him something for the future.
In the palace was luxurious living; fruits of the warmer climate, and
even fresh fish from the Gulf, it is said, were brought by swift-footed
runners up the steep path that the steam-engine now requires fourteen
hours to climb; music and the enjoyment of society, occupied leisure
hours. The state correspondence of the Aztec court consisted in picture
writings brought by messengers from all parts of the country, depicting
in realistic forms the events requiring attention. Montezuma could go to
the lovely Grasshopper Hill over the fine causeway under the aqueduct
built by his ancestors; not as the gay, fashionable world now makes the
excursion on horseback before breakfast, for air and exercise, but
carried in a palanquin by four strong bearers. It has been thought that
the Aztec kings had a royal villa at Chapultepec; but the wise men have
given that up now, because they find no traces of any. Lately, however,
have been discovered fragments of the effigy of Ahuitzotl, Montezuma's
uncle and predecessor, who was doubtless buried there. It was carved in
half-relief, a full-length figure life-size, stretched out on a ledge of
natural rock. The carving is much mutilated, the top having been blasted
off apparently, but beneath, distinctly visible, is the date
corresponding to 1507, with the name, Ahuitzotl.
This chieftain died in 1502. The monument was erected therefore by the
direction of his successor, Montezuma, in the spot well-beloved by all
generations of Aztecs, under the trees protected and guarded by them.
There is now standing an ancient cypress, or _ahuehuete_, huge among the
other great trees of the grove, which goes by the name of Montezuma's
cypress. Its gnarled trunk must measure more than ten feet across, and
its branches themselves are as big as trees. The leaves of this great
tree are small and delicate, like those of the acacia; they hang from
slender stems drooping over the great limbs down to the ground. Long
trailing gray moss now droops from the branches, which, with the dense
foliage, shuts out the rays of the sun, so that a gloomy half-light
pervades the place. Perhaps it was more cheerful in the heyday of
Mexico, or did coming events cast their shadows before, as Montezuma
paced those silent alleys?
It may well have been, for misfortunes began to obscure the sky of his
prosperity like little clouds coming up on the horizon. His almost
constant wars were not always successful. Each victory left behind it
bitterness and discontent, so that the same field had soon to be fought
over again. In 1516, Nezahualpilli, the wise sovereign of Texcuco, who
had always been a safe and strong adviser of the Aztec king, during his
long reign of forty-four years, left the kingdom to the eldest of four
sons, Cacamatzin; the honor was coveted by another son, Ixtlilxochitl,
who contested the throne. Montezuma took the side of Cacamatzin, as
rightful heir, in a civil war. The matter was settled by a division.
Cacamatzin kept that part of the kingdom of the Aculhuas which stretched
south of the capital Texcuco; while his rebellious brother obtained the
part towards the north, among the mountains. This division of the
kingdom becomes important to us by and by.
About this time all minds in Anahuac were occupied by sinister presages,
constantly repeated, of dreadful events soon to occur. Temples were in
flames, comets appeared unexpectedly; there were inundations,
earthquakes all over the land, and the people dreamed strange dreams.
Above all hovered the rumor that men of great stature, white and with
beards, were on their way to subjugate all the nations of the earth.
This rumor was perfectly in accordance with the universal tradition
about Quetzalcoatl (the Bright Shining Serpent), the bearded white man,
clothed in raiment covered with crosses, who had taught the Toltecs awe,
industry, and skill. He predicted with supreme authority before he
disappeared from them, the arrival of men white and bearded as he was,
who would take possession of the country, and destroy their temples and
their gods.
This event was a part of the Mexican belief, a something in the future
to be hoped for in a certain way, yet dreaded as the inception of great
changes in the manners of the people. The races subjugated by the power
of Montezuma might look forward to the coming of the strangers as to
deliverance; but that monarch himself became penetrated with the
conviction that his wealth and prosperity were to disappear in the
course of his lifetime.
This foreboding took possession of his mind and undermined its peace; he
became unhappy and brooded over his fate as he wandered among the gloomy
cypresses of Chapultepec. He had consulted the wise Nezahualpilli before
his death upon the meaning of the portents which pervaded the air, but
from him he had received no consolation. The sage shook his head
gravely, and when urged, confirmed his fears by translating these
prodigies as warnings of the downfall of empires.