FORGOTTEN MICHAEL ANGELOS
As I have said, the art of the Mayas, and of Chi-chen Itza
particularly, represents several periods of culture. Some of the oldest
examples of architecture, stone point-work, carvings, and murals, as
well as temple ornaments and personal trinkets display the greatest
artistry of design and craftsmanship.
Evidently art progressed until a golden age dawned, comparable in
its way to the golden age of Greece. Just as Pericles and Praxiteles
chiseled into stone a marvelous grace and beauty which later sculptors
have never been able to excel, so these old Maya dreamers and creators
have left behind them things more lovely than those of succeeding
generations.
Gradually the golden Mayan age waned. Creative genius became more
scarce. Sense of harmony and soaring imagination were dimmed. Technique
itself became poorer.
And then came the renaissance—the period of Nahuatl influence when
Chi-chen Itza probably reached its pinnacle of civic importance and
new temples and palaces were built thick and fast. Art was encouraged
and new genius arose, akin to that of the ancient masters, yet showing
everywhere the influence of the Nahuatl invasion. But while the new art
attained a high degree of excellence, it failed to reach the perfection
of the older culture.
It is rather difficult to assign to a given period any building as
a whole, or any piece of workmanship, because the older city was so
frequently robbed of its art treasures in the construction of the newer
city. Columns and cut stones and lintels were torn from the older and
perhaps then nearly ruined buildings to be used in the newer edifices.
As in the House of the Writing in the Dark, we see a lintel of such
extraordinary beauty as compared with the rest of the structure that
it cries aloud its story of ravishment from a nobler and older temple.
Apparently the later builders cared nothing for the beauty of this
stone, but took it simply because in size it was appropriate for their
purpose.
In speaking of the three eras of Mayan culture in Chi-chen Itza, it
is at least reasonable to suppose that the most ancient preceded the
coming of the Itzas to the city; legend says there was a flourishing
city here before the influx of the Itzas. The second period includes
the rise and decline of art under the Itzas, ending with the
Nahuatl-Aztec dominance. The third period approaches oblivion—the
centuries following the decay of the Maya nations when “campers,” as
Don Eduardo calls them, inhabited sparsely the old cities, and these
people built nothing of permanence and despoiled much of the old art,
knowing nothing of the past history and grandeur of the walls which
provided a better shelter than they could build. The little of artistic
merit which they created—if indeed, they created anything—is crude
and inferior to the work of their ancestors. “Campers” probably lived
in the Sacred City for two or three centuries preceding the coming of
Montejo and until his advent.
All that remains of the first period is the nearly obliterated old
Chi-chen Itza, where future exploration may bring to light many
treasures. Add to these the precious carvings that have obviously been
taken from the old city for the building of the newer city.
The second period is represented by the many temples and buildings,
several in an almost perfect state of preservation, in the newer
Chi-chen Itza, and the finds in the Sacred Well.
The third period is represented only in the waste and debris left by
the “campers” in and about the structures of the preceding periods.
One striking characteristic of Mayan art is the skill of the ancient
sculptor or painter in portraying the human figure and especially
the human physiognomy. The faces in murals, friezes, and bas-reliefs
are expressive, individual, full of character—the faces of men of
intellect and purpose. Nearly always these portraits in stone or
paint seem to have a sort of sublimity: an earnestness of mien, an
inscrutability, and withal an utter lack of pompousness. None but
great artists could so have caught the real character of the person
portrayed. Mayan art is a decided step ahead of the art of the
Egyptians, and beside it the Buddhas of the Orient seem insipid. There
are, of course, grotesque figures and the many hieroglyphs which, it
must be remembered, are not portraits but have been conventionalized
into symbols far in advance of the original and more primitive
picture-writing.
One of the most intriguing things is the constant recurrence of the
mask of Kukul Can, often conventionalized to fit the particular wall of
a building, frieze, or mural where it is used. And always it is shown
with a long upturned snout which some casual observer has called an
elephant’s trunk.
To go a bit afield, G. Elliot Smith’s “Elephants and Ethnologists”
takes up this subject of the elephant’s head. He believes that several
elaborately carved columns or stelæ in Copan, another Mayan city,
possibly more ancient than Chi-chen Itza, present credible pictures
of elephants’ heads with the keepers or mahouts beside them. These
carvings have caused considerable discussion; some stoutly maintain
that they portray the elephant and others say the motif is derived
from the tapir or from the head of the blue macaw. At any rate, the
appearance is that of an elephant, but very likely is intended for the
mask and nose of the great Maya hero-god Kukul Can.
Of the many murals in the Sacred City, those in the Temple of the
Tigers are the most interesting. On the opposite page is a reproduction
of the scene on the west wall; it is from a tracing done twenty-five
years ago by Teoberto Maier, of whom I shall later give further
account. Much of the lower part of the mural has since been defaced
by vandals or has chipped away through natural causes. The colors are
vivid and the battle action enthralling. Of the many human figures no
two are in the same pose. At the upper right is the Itza king or ruler,
protected by his king of serpents spitting fire and venom at the enemy.
A little lower down, and in front, is the chief Itza general with his
protecting serpent, and all about are warriors armed with _hul-ches_,
darts, and shields. At the extreme left is the opposing general with
his king of serpents and his warriors.[7] Near the bottom at the
left are the Itza notables holding a consultation, and at the bottom,
center, is the time-keeper with his calendar wheel.
Facing page 221 is an enlarged view of just a bit of this scene which,
because of its larger size, gives a better idea of the technique of the
painter.
Another part of the battle scene, covering the east wall, depicts the
invading army coming over the mountains to attack the Itzas. At the
left in the picture is an Itza general or ruler, supported as usual
by his beneficent Ahau Can or king of serpents. He is identified
as belonging to the Itzas by his typical Itzan costume. The figure
with the symbolized protecting serpent is similar to many others to
be seen elsewhere in Chi-chen Itza, in paintings and bas-reliefs. A
little lower down is his commanding general, also with a protecting
serpent, and all about are the Itza warriors, now, due to mutilation,
indicated only by the heads of their spears, pointing upward toward
the enemy. In the upper right-hand corner of the painting is an Itzan
horn-blower, standing upon a temple. His nationality is evidenced by
the knee-protectors he wears.
The invaders wear an entirely different style of clothing and their
armament is not like that of the Itzas. For example, although they use
the _hul-che_, their shields are rectangular—a shape never seen in
Chi-chen Itza nor in the whole Maya area. Still more striking is the
peculiarity of their head-dresses of three blue feathers with yellow
tips surmounting the regular feathered head-gear. It is significant
that Don Eduardo, some years ago in the excavation of a temple,
uncovered a gigantic painted head having a head-dress of three blue
feathers with yellow tips. The stone containing the picture of the
head was found upside down, and from the situation in which it was
discovered it had evidently been so placed originally and had not
fallen or been displaced. The reversed position of the head was the
Maya method of conveying the information that this foe was conquered.
Evidently the painting in the Tiger Temple was executed to commemorate
the victory over the invaders of the blue feathers, and the other
temple which Don Eduardo excavated also was decorated with murals that
indicated victory.
On each of the shields of the invaders is shown a curious red symbol
which indirectly gives a clue to the nationality of these foreigners.
In the central part of the state of Vera Cruz are found the remains of
a highly cultured people, the Totanacs. The descendants of this ancient
clan still reside in the neighborhood and their language contains many
Mayan words. Because of the peculiarity of the design, as shown on the
engraving of a clay Totanac facing page 225, there can be no doubt
that it is the same identically as appears on the shields in the Tiger
Temple. The same peculiar design occurs frequently upon the ancient
Totanac sculptures and pottery.
The Totanacs are neighbors to another tribe just to the north, the
Huastecas, who spoke the pure Maya language and were a part of the
Maya brotherhood. It seems probable either that they were left behind
in the great Maya migration from the west or that their country was
originally the home of those Mayas who later emigrated to Yucatan under
the leadership of the mighty Kukul Can.
Either supposition might be correct, for it was in this locality that
the now famous Tuxtla statuette was found which bears the earliest
date ever discovered in this part of the world—113 B. C. The
earliest date-stone in Chi-chen Itza is the one found by Don Eduardo
and its date is more than seven hundred years later. During the
interval between the two, or even before, the emigration to Yucatan
from the west might have occurred.
Another curious thing in the Tiger Temple painting is the fact that the
invaders are shown coming over mountains. Northern Yucatan contains
no mountains, not even a high hill. But in the state of Vera Cruz
there are mountains. There is little to substantiate any theory that
the people of the Sacred City invaded Vera Cruz and it is much more
probable that the Totanacs were the invaders.
In passing, another hypothesis of the ethnology of the Mayas is that
they were descendants of the Toltecas, a peaceful and cultured people
who inhabited Mexico proper before they were driven southward by the
Nahuatl or Aztec tribes. In various places in Mexico, Toltecan remains
have been found similar in construction and design to those in the Maya
areas. Yucatan may have been the final stopping-place of these people,
but as they moved ever southward, bands dropped out along the road, and
settled.
It is known that many years later Aztec soldiers marched clear around
the rim of the Gulf of Mexico and through the jungles to Chi-chen
Itza, which was their final destination. Their influence is very
evident in the buildings in newer Chi-chen Itza.
Because many of the murals in the Sacred City have reached the critical
point of deterioration in the last decade or so, I have made a point of
photographing as many of them as possible. Much of the photography has
employed the color-separation process. All told, I have taken upward
of a thousand photographs, and in addition I have made a large number
of drawings or tracings where it was impossible to use the camera. A
number of murals which were clear and perfect during my earlier trips
to Yucatan, some eighteen years ago, are now entirely faded or chipped
off.
From a minute study of the paintings I am reasonably sure that the
artists of this past age waited until the walls of a building were
completed and the inner surface had been covered with a thin, hard
stucco, then they painted the whole wall-surface to an even tone of
color, usually a light olive green. Upon this the outlines of their
pictures were sketched, either with red chalk or some soft red stone.
The outlines were then intensified with a brush dipped in red pigment.
From the character of the brush-marks I judge the brushes to have
been made of hair or feathers. The next step was the laying in of the
colors, the pigment being mixed with some sort of varnish that dried
and permitted other colors to be superimposed.
For example, take the figure of a man. After the outline was completed,
the whole figure was painted flesh color. When this was dry, further
outlining within the figure was done. Then another color was laid over
the shield, clothing, and other portions. Some details of the shield
might then be ornamented with still another color, and another would be
laid on the bosses of the shield and perhaps several colors put into
the head-dress. Wherever the red outlines were painted over, yet were
needed for completion of the work, new red outlines were painted in.
Facing page 220 [Transcriber: missing] is the reproduction of a tracing
I have made of a red outline, showing as faithfully as possible the
beginning and ending of each brush-mark. It is in the same free-hand
style used by the modern painter.
Bas-relief work was much used in the Sacred City and for this type
of art the cracks between the stone-work were filled in with stucco
to give an even surface and then the whole surface was polished. The
artist cut his designs into both stone and stucco. I cannot say how
this work was laid out, but it is reasonable to suppose that it was
outlined in red chalk and pigment much as murals were. The incised
work is from a quarter to half an inch deep and the figures stand
out boldly, especially when the direction of the light is from a
particularly favorable angle.
The projecting part of each relief was painted in identically the same
manner as murals, one color after another being superimposed. A notable
example of this type of art is found in the Temple of Bas-Reliefs,
which is just back of the mound of the Tiger Temple, and is unique in
the fact that it is situated upon level ground and not upon a pyramid.
Of this building there is still standing the right wall, nearly all
the back wall, a fragment of the left wall, and about a fourth of the
ceiling. The colors upon the bas-reliefs, with which walls and ceiling
are covered, are quite clear except upon the left wall, where for some
reason they are much faded but still distinguishable. On the ceiling
the colors are remarkably distinct, especially several tones of blue.
I recollect that my uncle, who painted the “Spirit of Seventy-Six,”
once told me that blue is a fugitive color and that there is no such
thing as permanent blue, which, he jokingly remarked, is the reason why
painters use a pigment called “permanent blue.” The prevailing shade
of blue used in these bas-reliefs is what artists of to-day would term
indigo blue in various tones.
Appropriate coloring has been used throughout. The flesh is
flesh-colored; garments, war-gear, everything is properly colored. In
these as in nearly all the bas-reliefs, the incisions or background
are colored a deep red, originally, I judge, as brilliant as Chinese
vermilion but now mostly faded to a brick red.
These walls represent the very pinnacle of Maya art. There is nothing
of antiquarian interest upon the American continents that excels or
even approaches them. The figures are not stiff and unlifelike as
are Egyptian figures. On the contrary, they are uncannily faithful
portrayals of men in action. They are about three feet high, and on
these walls are more than eighty figures of kings, gods, priests, and
warriors. Many, particularly the priests, are clad in most wonderful
and elaborate vestments. The warriors are more simply clothed and all
carry _hul-ches_ such as were actually found in the Sacred Well. Upon
the back of each fighting man is a quiver holding five darts. Each
dart bears the individual mark of its owner, so that if retrieved it
might be returned to him.
The bas-reliefs depict six different scenes, and each runs completely
about the room. Separating each scene from the one above it is the
conventionalized body of a great serpent.
In all of this work I have discovered but one female figure. Below this
figure is an ornamental border about eight inches high on which are
engraved flowers and small human figures in curious acrobatic postures.
The front portion of the roof is now fallen in, but I surmise that
originally the illumination of the building was such as to bring out
the relief work most prominently.
At present one gets a much better impression of this work at about ten
o’clock in the morning than at any other period of the day.
In the National Museum at Washington, there is a reproduction of these
bas-reliefs, but this modern work has scarcely caught the spirit of the
old Maya artists. It should be the immediate aim of archæologists to
preserve or duplicate the bas-reliefs in the most faithful manner, for
the sake of posterity, for I doubt if we shall ever uncover anything
finer in American antiquity.
Teoberto Maler spent a great deal of time in making photographs,
drawings, and tracings of the old Maya murals and reliefs, and the
world owes him a debt of gratitude for the minute care he took and the
faithfulness of his reproductions. Maler, who is now deceased, was no
mean antiquarian. He was also an artist and a man of most peculiar
personality.
For several years his more or less undirected exploration was done
for the Peabody Museum, and then he fell out with the heads of that
institution and thereafter worked as a free-lance. For years his
livelihood was derived by selling information, photographs, and
drawings to dilettant antiquarians. So many of these failed to pay him
for such services that the poor fellow became suspicious of virtually
every one who attempted to be friendly with him. I called on him four
times before I could even get him to talk about archæology. But I
always took several bottles of beer with me, so he became more cordial;
and as I was especially careful not to question him in any way to
indicate an interest in his work, he finally thawed out completely.
An Austrian by birth, he had accompanied the ill-fated Maximilian
to Mexico and had finally drifted southward into Yucatan, where he
centered his interest on archæology.
One day he presented me with about twenty photographs from his
collection, which I was happy to have, although some were discards.
Seeing the sincerity of my gratitude, he offered to show me some
things which he said had never been seen by any one else. Among these
treasures was his excellent tracing of the battle scene in the Tiger
Temple. The next day I asked him with some trepidation if I might make
a copy of the tracing. He was quite willing and when I suggested that
I would travel to Mérida to get some tracing-paper for the purpose he
produced a whole roll of it. I spent an entire week making this tracing
and several others, Maler working beside me and helping for several
hours each day.
I tried to pay him when the work was completed, but he would never
accept a penny, saying I was the only man who had ever come to him
without trying to get something for nothing, and he repeated this
remark, I have been told, to other people. He told me he trusted only
two men in the world. Naturally, I was very glad to have won his regard.
One day, some years later, he showed me several golden ornaments which
I afterward found had come in some devious way from the Sacred Well. I
fortunately made some photographs and drawings of them, for the next
year, when I asked to see them again, Maier no longer had them. Some he
had evidently sold to a museum abroad and the remainder he had disposed
of otherwise.
Maler had a foolish hatred for Don Eduardo and called him “falsifier
Thompson,” but the latter had no such feeling toward Maler; in fact,
one can scarcely imagine Don Eduardo’s hating anybody.
During one of my visits Maler promised me that the following year
we should make a two weeks’ journey into the interior of Yucatan,
where he had discovered a temple unknown to the world which contained
some marvelous murals. He said that he had discovered an underground
entrance to the temple and when he left he had covered up the entrance
and planted shrubbery over it so that it would remain hidden from
archæologists. At that time I made a tracing of one of his drawings,
showing a wall of this temple on which is depicted a water scene,
with a volcano spouting fire and smoke, buildings falling into the
water, people drowning, and a figure dressed like a warrior, paddling
away from the scene, in a boat. Maler was a firm believer in the Lost
Atlantis theory and contended that this picture represented the
destruction of Atlantis. It was an obsession with him that nothing from
this secret temple should come into the possession of what he termed
“that infamous museum.”
I shall always regret that Maler died before I was able to make the
intended trip with him to this hidden temple, as the knowledge of its
location died with him.
Teoberto Maler, soldier of fortune, artist, archæologist, and eccentric
misanthrope, yet at heart kindly and lovable, died of a fever three
years ago, in his adopted land of Yucatan. All of his personal
belongings were taken over by the Austrian consul, and I am told that
except for his numerous photographs and drawings there was nothing
among them of value.
Among the modern inventions which the antiquarian has to be thankful
for, place first in the list the camera, which makes possible faithful
reproductions, frequently under most unfavorable conditions. Compare
modern photography with the difficulties that beset Catherwood, who
made the exceptionally fine engravings with which Stephens’s books are
illustrated. Catherwood did his work nearly eighty years ago, using a
“camera obscura,” a rather clumsy device which projects an image on a
screen so that it may be traced. In making a single tracing Catherwood
worked for hours at a stretch in the tropic heat, beset by insect
pests, whereas to-day a few moments with a camera would be sufficient.
One of the interesting things shown in the old murals and bas-reliefs
is the diversity of costumes. The dress of the figures varies from the
simple wide belt, with flaps hanging down front and back, to the very
elaborate vestments of the priests. To the belt might be fastened
armor of heavy quilted cotton or of wood or even of metal.
The costume of the warrior always included an ornate feathered
head-dress and there was wide variation in these head-ornaments. In
some cases they were made of wood in the shape of a bird or other
animal and the surface was covered with a thin layer of metal such
as beaten copper or gold or with well-tanned deerskin or of finely
woven cotton fabric embroidered with feather-work. From the top of the
head-dress, feathers sometimes descended in graceful curves clear to
the ground. The entire head, wings, and tail of a bird were often a
part of the head-gear. The head-gear of kings and nobles was decorated
with the feathers of the sacred quetzel, or bird of paradise. On a few
of the pictured head-ornaments, one or more serpents’ heads are seen,
and these may have been a symbol of rank or the coat of arms, so to
speak, of a certain family. In other cases the front of the head-piece
shows the face or mask of some deity, often the face of Kukul Can.
Fastened about the warrior’s neck is often a cape of cotton fabric
so heavily embroidered with feathers that it appears to consist of
feathers alone. Some of these capes or tunics are covered with metal
scales to ward off the thrust of spear or dart. The Maya love of finery
is indicated by the ubiquitous string of jade beads about the neck,
ending in a heavy jade pendant or medallion. Such beads are worn by
many of the pictured figures.
Around the warrior’s waist is a wide, embroidered belt supporting an
ornamented apron. Protectors of feather-work surround the knees, and
upon the wrists are curious wristlets. Sandals are made of deerskin or
heavy felt and are decorated with geometrical figures; they are laced
in front and frequently have high sides like a shoe. Both deerskin and
felt sandals have been found in the Sacred Well. A band is worn around
each ankle, with feathers projecting from the front. This band is
purely decorative and has no connection with the sandal.
Usually the fighting-man is shown either holding five darts in his left
hand or having that number of darts in a quiver on his back. In his
right hand he grasps the _hul-che_.
Some of the figures have their arms almost entirely obscured by bands
covered with feathers. Other figures wear cloaks or mantles fastened
at the throat and reaching nearly to the ground. These are generally
embroidered heavily with the feather-work so dear to the ancient Mayas.
Figures are also shown wielding the formidable spear tipped with flint.
Some of the spear-heads taken from the Sacred Well are from eight to
nine inches long and two to three inches wide, and razor-edged. Spears
were usually gaily decorated with feathers attached to the shaft where
it joined the head. In the bas-reliefs is shown, also, a spear-head
with serrated edges. For fighting at close quarters the battle-ax was
used. It consisted of one or several stones or of a metal blade fitted
into a wooden helve.
In addition to the armor worn there were shields. Some of the shields
were built to fit closely the back and sides of the warrior and
were fastened to the broad band of his belt. Other shields, carried
in the usual manner, were made and ornamented in several different
ways. Usually the base was wood, embossed with metal, studded with
jewels or ornamented with feathers. I was fortunate enough to be
with Don Eduardo at one time during the dredging of the well and had
the thrill of picking from the muck of the dredge the golden section
of a shield-front, which had been a large round ornamented disk of
considerable size, embellished with carvings of flowers and scrolls.
The net also was used in battle and, as shown in the bas-reliefs,
was carried by the spear-thrower, in his left hand. Very likely it
was effective in stopping the thrust of a spear. Or—who knows?—it
may have been used to entangle the enemy in the manner of the Roman
gladiator armed with net and trident.
The warriors went into battle to the resounding blare of horns, and
trumpets were used to signal troops in action. There were whole
companies of horn-blowers, each man provided with a horn nearly as tall
as himself. Horns and horn-blowers are clearly shown in the murals of a
second-story room in La Casa de las Monjas.
Our information obtained from a study of the bas-reliefs and murals
and from the articles retrieved from the Sacred Well and other finds
checks with remarkable closeness the writings of Landa, whose sources
of knowledge were chiefly legend and the old Maya writings. Landa says:
They had for their defense round shields which they made of
split reeds woven round and adorned with deer-skins. They had
jackets padded with cotton and filled with salt. These were of
two thicknesses or layers of padding and extremely strong.
Some of the chiefs and captains had helmets of wood. They went
to war with plumage and tiger and jaguar skins on—those that
had them. They always had two captains, one hereditary and
perpetual, the other selected with much ceremony for a term of
three years.
On the roads and passes they erected defenses of twigs and wood
and sometimes of stone for their archers.[8] If they captured
some distinguished man, they sacrificed him, because they did
not want to leave alive anyone who might later harm them.
They had hatchets of certain metal which they fastened into
handles of wood and these served them as arms and also as
instruments to cut wood. These they sharpened by pounding with
a stone to harden them as the metal was virginally soft. They
had small, short lances with points of hard flint.
In their earth there was not discovered until now any kind
of metal with which they might make implements with which to
work on their numerous edifices. However, not having metals,
they found in the earth flint with which they made materials
for their lances which they used in their wars; and the knives
for sacrifice were made from flint which the priests had
selected.[9]
They had a certain kind of white brass with admixture of gold
from which they made their hatchets for different functions and
also hawk-shells and a certain kind of small chisel with which
they made their idols. The brass and other plates of metal and
hard copper plates they used to barter for things from Tabasco
for their idols, trading back and forth.
In the illustration following page 232 may be seen the more elaborate
costume of the priests. This illustration of a small section of the
back wall of the Temple of the Bas-Reliefs represents a religious
ceremony. The whole wall is covered with figures of priests and
warriors paying devotion to Ahau Can, the king of serpents.
The Great Serpent looms majestically over and about the high priest,
who is decked in gorgeous apparel. Mask and helmet cover his face and
head, and from his body intricate scrolls extend in all directions,
denoting the words or chant to which he is giving voice. In his hand
he holds a shield over the surface of which the body of the protecting
serpent undulates. From the mouth of the Great Serpent issue scrolls of
red and yellow, which may be words or venom.
Perhaps one may realize from this sculpture how keen was the decorative
sense of these ancient people. It was ever seeking an outlet for
expression. The undecorated space on wall or ceiling must have seemed
to the Maya artist an inartistic space. He crowded his areas with
ornamentation, yet with so nice a balance, so true a harmony that he
achieved a perfect result without giving an impression of congestion.
Other figures show the use of ear- and nose-ornaments and of labrets
made of thin disks of gold and of highly polished jade.
Finally, there are the wonderfully worked ornaments of fine flint,
flawless and shaped curiously like the parts of a bishop’s crozier.
In the Tiger Temple is a frieze near the top of the wall, extending
clear around the four sides, which shows a procession of jaguars. It
is a thing of sheer beauty, for the artist has caught in his paintings
the very nature of the beast. There he is, in all his slinking, lithe,
feline ferocity, conventionalized but losing nothing of his character.
Above and below the row of jaguars is an ornamentation of
conventionalized serpent motif which is graceful, accentuating the
litheness and grace of the huge cats. The whole frieze is done on a
surface of stone polished to such smoothness that it conveys the idea
of white marble worked by the hand of an old Italian master.
Another remarkable mural was upon a stone which was found by Sylvanus
Morley in the debris of a partially ruined temple in old Chi-chen Itza
which he named the Temple of the Owls. It is so named from the fact
that many of the fallen columns bear sculptures of owls. For a number
of reasons I believe that this is one of the earlier temples, built
when Maya art was at its best, and I was thrilled at the quality of
workmanship on the stone. The colors were much faded and the entire
picture too faint for the camera. I found first, in cleaning the
corners or unimportant parts by washing in water, that the paint would
stand almost any sort of gentle rubbing. In fact, the only way it could
be destroyed was by scraping it off with an edged tool. Washing showed
that the colors were somewhat more vivid when the stone was wet and it
occurred to me that it could be treated in much the same manner as an
old oil painting, which may be greatly revivified by cleaning and then
applying a coat of varnish.
Acting on this assumption, I first cleaned the stone with a weak
solution of hydrochloric acid, which had no effect on the pigments
but did remove much dirt. The next question was varnish. I had some
turpentine and a few other chemicals but no varnish. And then I thought
of the copal incense that Don Eduardo had taken from the Sacred Well.
I took a ball of this and scraped off the calcined outer surface. The
remainder of the copal I broke up and placed in an earthen bowl which
also came from the well. Then I added a little turpentine and heated
the mixture over a slow fire until the copal was melted. Finally I
strained the liquid through a piece of cloth and had an excellent
transparent copal varnish. I tried it out on several unimportant stones
and found that it gave a fine surface gloss. I then applied it very
carefully to the painted stone I had discovered, first to the blue
border and then to the whole surface. I was overjoyed, when the varnish
had dried, to find the colors magically restored, several of them
being nearly as bright, I think, as when originally applied, perhaps a
thousand years before.
It was now a simple matter to obtain excellent photographs and I took
several, both in black and white and with color separations.
This stone, which I named the Stone of Kukul Can, told a complete
story. It represented the long-nosed god, the particular deity of the
Sacred City, emerging from the mouth of a serpent, just as shown in the
old Maya books and in many other places. In other words, it depicted
the birth of Kukul Can, the feathered-serpent god. Below the serpent
and the figure of the god was shown the bowl of the earth, or the
archaic representation of the earth. Here and there were cacao pods,
from which was obtained chocolate—then as now an important article of
food, a highly prized delicacy among the Mayas and other races. Cacao
is one of the fruits the Mayas thought to have been brought them by
Kukul Can.
The god held in his hands emblems of life and generation. Above
were the celestial heaven and the zodiac. At right and left were
the hieroglyphs of the sun and planets. On the upper margin was an
inscription. The whole was majestic and exquisitely done. It indicated
all of the good things of life,—prosperity and plenty,—bestowed upon
his people by the mighty god Kukul Can, born of a serpent.
When I had finished photographing and studying this extraordinary
stone, I wrapped it carefully and stored it in Don Eduardo’s hacienda,
where it was later ruined when the hacienda was burned by unruly
Indians.
This lost stone was an excellent example of the older and finer Maya
art and a careful comparison of it, as photographed, with the pages
of the Perez Codex, one of the few remaining ancient Maya books (now
in the National Library in Paris), shows its similarity to the work
therein displayed. The portraits of Kukul Can are identical. The
hieroglyphs have the same peculiarities of shading, due to the stroke
of the brush being heavier on one side than on the other. If the artist
who painted the Stone of Kukul Can did not also illuminate some of the
Maya books, he at least belonged to the same period and the same school
of artists. I am sure that the great work of Mr. Morley of the Carnegie
Foundation, which is now going on at Chi-chen Itza, will uncover many
more stones similar to this one and it will be demonstrated that many
of the Maya books were produced in the ancient city.
Very frequently in the murals or the bas-reliefs, where figures of
men are shown, the glyph representing the man’s name appears above
his portrait. Thus we have “Mr. Can,” or, in English, “Mr. Snake,” as
in the second cut opposite page 112. Above him is the carving of a
serpent. This gentleman has the conventional nose- and ear-ornaments
and over his head is the double feather of a warrior. From his mouth
issues a scroll representing speech. Other figures are “Mr. Duck,” “Mr.
Phallus,” etc.
In one of the Codices is shown an eclipse of the sun. It is remarkably
well drawn in colors.[10] At the top of the page is what may be called
the text, which we are not able to read although we know many of the
characters. Directly below is the celestial band, representing sun,
moon, and planets. Dependent from this band are three hieroglyphs of
the sun in the heavens. The central figure is the sun, and wings at
left and right mean movement of that body, or day and night. Under each
of these figures is a bird in the act of devouring the sun. The word
for eclipse in Maya is _chi-bal-kin_, literally “mouth-action sun,”
or “bitten sun,” and it was the ancient belief, which persisted until
fairly recent times, that at the time of an eclipse the sun was bitten
by a serpent or by birds or other creatures.
Beneath each picture representing the devouring of the sun are the
date-glyphs.
An interesting colored mural from the ceiling of La Casa de las Monjas
shows a warrior standing upon a pyramidal structure. In his left hand
is the _hul-che_ and in his right a shield and battle-ax. He has just
shot two lances to which are fastened firebrands, which have passed
over a walled inclosure and are intended to set fire to the buildings
within. In one corner of this picture is a building representing the
Iglesia (one of the annexes of the Nunnery) or a similar structure,
as denoted by the mask of Kukul Can sticking out from the wall of the
building. In the foreground, at the left, is a mammoth head-dress,
which may be explained by the fact that it was not uncommon for the
Maya artist to make a picture and then to introduce into the foreground
large figures entirely out of proportion to the remainder of the
picture.
As for full-relief carving, one need only see the serpent columns of El
Castillo or the Tiger Temple, and the serpent balustrades, to know that
the Maya artists were fully as skilful at such work as in producing
bas-relief and murals.
Among the pottery, incense-burners, and funerary urns discovered at
Chi-chen Itza are frequently exceptionally fine examples of ceramic
art. A vase of a substance like alabaster found by Don Eduardo is a
thing of matchless beauty.
Of metal-work in gold and copper there are many pieces indicating
great skill and artistry. Jade ornaments such as beads and plaques are
exquisitely worked and perfectly polished.
Of stone point-work, heads of darts and spears, and blades of
battle-axes, as well as cutting-tools and weapons, nothing has been
found in America which can compare to the Maya work. The sacrificial
knives found in the well are peerless in their artistry.
The art of the Mayas shows the greatest variety in media, style,
and technique. Even casual observation of that in the Sacred City
shows that many different painters and sculptors were employed; yet
everywhere painted or carved figures are natural, true to life, the
proportions perfect. The best are comparable to those of ancient
Greece; the worst, though crude, are never stiff and mechanical like
those of Egyptian art.
Unfortunately there are no statues like the Memnon of Thebes nor the
Apollo Belvidere, for the Mayas did not produce statuary or monolithic
carving, with the few rare exceptions of Chac Mool figures and serpent
columns. Rather their effort was toward detail and precision of figure
and design. Some of the carvings are so minute that they are hard
to see easily without a magnifying-glass. We can only wonder at the
exceptional ability of this ancient people to originate, imitate, and
express in stone or pigment or by the goldsmith’s or the lapidary’s
art.