DEsirE Charnay

IZAMAL EN ROUTE FOR CHICHEN.

Expedition to Izamal and Chichen-Itza—Brigands—Cacalchen—Market Place—Great Pyramid—Small Pyramid and Colossal Decorative Figures—Cemented Roads—The Convent of the Virgin at Izamal—A Precarious Telegraph—Tunkas—Garrison—Quintana-Roo—An Old Acquaintance—Citas—A Fortified Church—Troops—Opening a Path—Native Entertainment—Arrival at PistÉ.

Our expedition to Izamal and Chichen was a somewhat serious undertaking: we required a large number of hands for our work in mid-forest; we should have to camp out for three weeks at least, removed from all human habitation; finally a military escort, fifty strong, was deemed necessary to secure us against a sudden attack from the revolted natives, respecting whom alarming rumours of pillaging were afloat. Our heavy baggage had been sent on, and armed with twelve-shot Winchesters, and provided with letters from the Governor for the officers in command of the district garrisons which were to supply the escort, we started on January 4th, travelling over a monotonous, dusty, abominable road. Our drivers, however, were such good whips, that we went over the distance in no time.

There is hardly a soul to be met on the road, save at rare intervals some carts loaded with henequen; some natives returning from the next village, the women veiling their faces or turning their backs upon us at our approach; now a company of reserve on their way to the front or homeward-bound, for the borders are strictly guarded against a coup de main from the revolted natives.

We stop at Cacalchen; for our early start, the crisp morning air, and the jolting of the road, have sharpened our appetites. We breakfast under a shaded verandah opening into a central court planted with cocoa-trees. We are waited upon by a very pretty Meztiza, whose fair complexion, rosy mouth, large black eyes, and exquisite figure, are shown to the utmost advantage in her transparent uipil, doing her work with simple, quiet grace, while her presence and her bewitching smile seem to light up the whole place. What dish would not have tasted sweet, offered by her shapely hands?

Izamal, where we arrive at three o’clock, is an important place numbering some five or six thousand souls. It looks beautifully white, for it has just undergone its annual cleaning, when every building is whitewashed in honour of the patron saint.

It has been urged by some writers that the civilisation of Yucatan and Tabasco belonged to a remote past; but these writers often speak from mere hearsay, accepting everything without the slightest criticism; their accounts, however valuable, are filled with uncertainties, are often obscure and contradictory, so that they may be made to square with the idiosyncrasy of all or any particular man. Consequently the difficulties in arriving at the truth are almost insuperable, unless it is one who has visited the regions he writes upon, studied the monuments, collated ethnographical documents, compared the various manners and customs, fitting himself to catch a word or a sentence which from time to time shoots across the darkness of their undigested narratives, and correcting with their help errors with which they abound. But the general neglect by ancient writers of monuments which everywhere met their gaze makes me unjust, while our gratitude is due to such industrious writers as Bernal Diaz, Sahagun, Torquemada, and many more.

Izamal, like many other places in the peninsula, was built on the site of an Indian city; here, as elsewhere, the chief care of the Spaniards was to destroy alike palaces, temples, and written documents, bidding the natives forget their ancient traditions. Landa, who wrote forty-five years after the Conquest (1566), speaks of the edifices at Izamal as twelve in number, adding that the founders were unknown; whilst Lizana, sixty years later (1626), with fewer opportunities for collecting legends, gives their history in full, together with the Indian names and their signification; but unfortunately in his time the monuments had dwindled down to five.

Landa, as we have remarked, says these monuments are of unknown origin, yet in another place he affirms they are the work of the existing race, since he writes: “Among the remains of monuments which were destroyed are found fragments of human figures and other decorations, such as the natives make even now with very hard cement.” He further mentions having found in a tomb “stone ornaments artistically wrought, similar to the currency in present use among the natives.”

At Merida he demolished an Indian temple, which crowned the upper part of the great mound, giving a ground plan and describing it as “built with square blocks, beautifully carved, and of such height as to produce a feeling of awe in the beholder” (its real height is 80 feet); thus proving the monument to have been entire when he wrote. Nevertheless it is from an assertion such as this that judgment has been passed on the monuments, and from documents like the Perez manuscript that a chronology has been deduced. The monuments are imposing, no doubt, to judge from the few that remain; but we should err if, following Landa and others, we pronounced them “colossal, gigantic, magnificent, to which nothing in the world can be compared.”

The whole extent of the Yucatec monuments would not represent in cubic metres the works achieved in Paris during the last twenty-five years; consequently they should be viewed as the unpretending outcome of a semi-civilised people, and this estimate need not lessen their interest, while the mysterious silence which surrounds them forms a void in the history of the human race.

The great mound to the north is called Kinich-KakmÓ, “The Sun’s face with fiery rays,” from an idol which stood in the temple crowning its summit. The monument consists of two parts: the basement, nearly 650 feet, surmounted by an immense platform, and the small pyramid to the north. “Great veneration was felt for the idol or deity of Kinich-KakmÓ, and in times of public calamity, the entire population flocked to this shrine with peace-offerings, when at mid-day a fire descended and consumed the sacrifice, in the presence of the assembled multitude. Then the officiating priest notified the will of the deity whether for good or for evil, and prophesied more or less the secret longings of their hearts: but as they could not always guess aright, it not unfrequently happened that their expectations were not fulfilled.”114

GREAT PYRAMID, KINICH-KAKMÓ, AT IZAMAL.

GREAT PYRAMID, KINICH-KAKMÓ, AT IZAMAL.

Facing this to the south was another great mound, known as Ppapp-Hol-Chac, “the House of Heads and Lightning,” the priest’s house, presumably similar to those still standing in various towns of Yucatan. The upper portion of this pyramid was levelled down, and on its lower platform was erected the Franciscan church and convent.

The third pyramid to the east supported a temple dedicated to Izamat-Ul, Izamna, or Zamna, the great founder of the ancient Maya empire. “To him were brought,” says Lizana, “the sick, the halt, and the dead, and he healed and restored them all to life by the touch of his hand;” hence the appellation Kab-Ul, the Miraculous Hand, applied to him.115 He is often represented by a hand only, which recalled him to the memory of his worshippers. His other names are the Strong, the Mighty Hand, the Long-handed Chief, who wrote the code of the Toltecs, and as such has been identified with Quetzalcoatl, with whom he shared the government; he conducting the civil power, whilst Quetzalcoatl, the virgin-born deity, looked after the spiritual.116

“The temple in which these miracles were performed, was much frequented; for this reason four good roads had been constructed, leading to Guatemala, Chiapas, and Tabasco. Traces of them can even now be seen in various places.”117 We also have found marks of a cemented road, from Izamal to the sea facing the island of Cozumel.

SOUTH SIDE OF HUNPICTOK PYRAMID AT IZAMAL, AFTER STEPHENS.

SOUTH SIDE OF HUNPICTOK PYRAMID AT IZAMAL, AFTER STEPHENS.

Lastly the fourth pyramid to the west, which is shown in our cut of the market-place, had on its summit the palace of Hunpictok, “the commander-in-chief of eight thousand flints.” On its side near the basement, consisting of stones laid without mortar, and rounded off at the corners like those of the AkÉ pyramid, stood the gigantic face reproduced by Stephens, but which has since disappeared. This head is so interesting that I cannot deprive the reader of the description given by the American traveller: “It is 7 feet 8 inches high. The features were first rudely formed by small rough stones, fixed in the side of the mound by means of mortar, and afterwards perfected with stucco so hard that it has successfully resisted the action of air and water for centuries.”118 The stone forming the chin alone measures 1 foot 6 inches; the figure has enormous moustachios, and a resemblance may be traced to the gigantic faces in stone at Copan, where the plaster has crumbled away and left the stone bare. The resemblance to the AkÉ pyramids is remarkable and leads us to conclude that the latter were decorated in the same manner. Here also on the east side is found the figure shown in our cut, from which may be traced the builder’s mode of working.

This colossal head is 13 feet high; the eyes, nose, and under-lip were first formed by rough stones coated over with mortar; the ornaments to the right and left were obtained by the same means; the latter are the best preserved, while double spirals, symbols of wind or speech, may be seen, similar to those in Mexico, at Palenque and Chichen-Itza. On the western side of this pyramid, which has been cleared towards the basement, we discovered one of the finest bas-reliefs it has been our fortune to see in Yucatan. Its principal subject is a crouching tiger with a human head and retreating forehead, less exaggerated than those at Palenque, beautifully moulded, and reminding us of the orders of knighthood in which the tiger had the pre-eminence; nor could a better device be imagined for the house of the commander-in-chief at Izamal. To conclude, these documents, which would be a dead letter to one who had not followed the various migrations from north to south, enable us to reconstruct here also a Toltec centre. It may be noted that if numerous monuments are still found in Yucatan, their existence is due to the small number of Spaniards settled in these regions at the time of the Conquest, and more especially to their being at a distance from the centres occupied by the conquerors.

COLOSSAL HEAD FORMING BASEMENT OF PYRAMID AT IZAMAL.

Through the whole length and breadth of Anahuac both monuments and cities have entirely disappeared; for the Spaniards were not satisfied with destroying all that reminded them of a former polity, they were also careful to infuse into their young disciples a profound horror for their former religion, while they trained children to report any word or deed they observed in their parents or priests which savoured of their ancient customs. Thanks to these measures, everything that could recall the past to the rising generation was soon blotted out from the Indian mind. But however dilapidated the monuments we observe at Izamal, they prove that there was here a great population at the time of the Conquest; and this being admitted, it follows that their destruction is comparatively recent, due mainly to civil wars, dating a few years before the arrival of the Spaniards.

As for the Perez manuscript, which was written by a native from memory long after the Conquest, purporting to be the faithful rendering of legends handed down from mouth to mouth, in a particular family, it adds nothing to our knowledge, throws no light on the question which perplexes us. The narrative begins from 144 A.D., and goes on to 1560 A.D.; but is it possible to admit seriously the authority of an account so obtained, extending over so many centuries? At the time of its publication all the natives had preserved was a dubious legend; and traditions fared hardly better with the caciques and nobles fallen from their high estate, than they did with the common people, for “the former were often reduced,” says Cogolludo, “to the extreme of poverty; and forty years after the Conquest (1582) the royal descendants of Tutulxiu, and the princely house of Mayapan, were obliged to work for their living like the humblest amongst their ancient subjects.”119

This picture, sad as it is, became even worse a few years later, when the conquerors had reduced the whole population to a state of hard bondage. The only difference of any importance between the Perez manuscript and the narratives of Clavigero, Veytia, and Ixtlilxochitl, is in the chronology, which is far too absurd for any serious consideration, for Pg 313
Pg 314
Pg 315while the latter gives the seventh century as the date of the arrival of the Toltecs at Tula, and their subsequent migration in Central America at the end of the eleventh and the beginning of the twelfth century; with the former they leave Tula in 144 A.D., and arrive in Yucatan in 217 A.D., nearly five hundred years before the generally accepted date of their arrival at Tula. Moreover he calls Yucatan an island, although the new-comers had penetrated the country through Tabasco and the south without crossing the sea, clearly indicating that it was a peninsula.

The church of Izamal is very fine, but its chief attraction in the eyes of the natives is a statue of the Virgin. Its story runs thus:

A celebrated artist of Guatemala received an order from the towns of Izamal and Merida respectively, for two statues of the Virgin; in their transit, which took place in the rainy season, neither the case containing the images, nor the men conveying them, got a drop of rain. Valladolid, jealous that so small a place as Izamal should possess this fine statue, came in great force and carried it off, but the image proved stronger than all those men put together, for it became so heavy that it had to be abandoned at the outskirts of the little town. The miracle was followed by a great many more, so that the Izamal Virgin was soon the most celebrated in the peninsula, attracting as many pilgrims as did formerly Kab-Ul, of the Miraculous Hand.

We set off at five in the morning for Valladolid, to avoid the overpowering heat of the day; indeed, all traffic between May and September in these tropical regions is done by night, for the greater comfort of both man and beast. We watch the sun rise in the east, but far from enlivening the scene, it seems only to bring out in stronger relief the desolateness of the landscape. A few carts with natives on their way home shivering with the night cold, a wretched tumbledown hamlet called Stilipech, is all we notice on our route; and indeed we have much to do with keeping our seats in these volan cochÉs, which rattle along at so furious a pace on these atrocious roads, as to make us wonder what power keeps them from being smashed to pieces.

I had had suspicion during my stay at Merida as to Yucatan having any postal or telegraphic administration, for a number of my telegrams were left unanswered, and my inquiries were met with the evasive reply that the line was not in good order. That such was the case I could now plainly see for myself. A wire which skirted the wood had indeed been laid, but having no poles or insulators it trusted to fate to get fixed now and again to a branch or a tree, which, bending with the breeze, allowed it to trail among the rocks or get entangled in the brambles. Wonderful to relate, a message sometimes reached its destination; a great step forward as compared to Tabasco, where no sooner is the wire laid than it is purloined by the inhabitants, who, it seems, find it useful. But our volan suddenly stops, and the driver draws our attention to an important cenotÉ known as Xcolac, shaded by beautiful trees and full of fish. On its banks a number of Indians are filling their gourds to the brim, and with simple grace offer us a drink of its cool, fresh pure water. It argues strange apathy in the natives that in a country where water is so scarce, a hamlet or hacienda should not have been erected around it. We re-enter our cochÉs and reach Tumbras, formerly a flourishing place, about eleven o’clock; it was burnt down during the civil wars and has not been rebuilt. We alight before a decent-looking house, having a tienda stocked with salt, tobacco, wine, liqueurs, preserves, sardines, and American hams. For whom are all these good things? I was going to ask, when I recollected that a garrison is stationed here.

Our host, a fat, red-faced man, receives us with a profusion of smiles, putting “everything in his house at our feet.” Warned by sad experience, feeling, moreover, as hungry as schoolboys after a game of cricket, we stammered out for the usual “portion” in the shortest possible delay, but what was our agreeable surprise to find a menu consisting of strong clear soup, a sardine omelette, beefsteak, French beans, wine, English beer, and excellent coffee!

Meanwhile the commander, who had received instructions with regard to our mission, came in just as we were sitting down; he was immediately invited to join our party, which he did with alacrity, for the life of an officer quartered in this out-of-the-way place, without a soul to speak to from year’s end to year’s end, whose sole business consists in the morning and evening parades, or giving the order of the day, must be indescribably monotonous and trying in the extreme.

The presence of our volan has set the village in motion; soon a number of people are seen crossing the deserted plaza in our direction: some are old and decrepit, and all look as though they could hardly stand on their rickety legs, for the able-bodied men are in the fields preparing the milpa, cleaning the ground for the sowing of Indian corn. They invade the tienda, peering into our room; the boldest advances with rolling gait, to have a nearer view of our group, delivering himself of a little speech in the Maya tongue, presumably indiscreet, to judge by the amused smiles of the company. The commandant desires him to leave the room, but he refuses, and has to be ejected by the united efforts of two orderlies.

Refreshed with our excellent luncheon, our pleasant chat, and last, not least, a respite from the too lively cochÉ, we set out, and do not stop again until we reach Quintana-Roo, sometimes used as a basis by the revolted natives in their expeditions, whence they sallied forth for their razzias, carrying off the women, and massacring the men, except in the rare instances when a large ransom might be looked for; this, however, did not always save the poor wretch, who, his money being paid, was ruthlessly butchered by these savages.

Quintana is about as small a place as can be conceived, consisting of one small fort garrisoned by twelve men, and one house; in the landlord of the latter I recognise my old guide, who in 1859 accompanied me to Chichen. My old acquaintance is now a prosperous man, with a nice house, a tienda and poultry-yard well stocked, while a comely wife, lovely children, and pretty Meztizas, attend to the business of the household and enliven it. My friend insists on our having some chocolate, and wishes to be again our guide to Chichen. I am delighted, and with expressions of mutual regard we take leave of this charming family, en route for Citas, where we arrive so late in the evening that everybody had given us up, so that nothing had been prepared, and the people did not seem inclined to bestir themselves for us. No house or room was to be had. It was fortunately holiday time; the school-room was placed at our disposal, in which we at once deposited our camp-beds and other paraphernalia. The next thing was how to get something to eat, and we should have gone supperless to bed, if the magistrate and the mayor had not kindly interfered in our behalf, and partly by coaxing, partly by the weight of their authority, induced the people to bring out the contents of their larder.

Here we leave the volan for saddle-horses, mules, and tamenes, for our next stage is through thick woods right across country. Our preparations take a good deal of time; horses are scarce and have to come some distance, while tamenes must be brought down from their extravagant prices before we can think of engaging them. The same difficulties have beset us everywhere; the natives deeming fair game any one so insane or ridiculous as to come from distant lands to view some crumbling stones; of course he has more money than he knows what to do with, and it is only common justice to ease him of some of his surplus. We despatch our men a day in advance to open the way through the woods, while we tarry to witness a jardana, native dance, to which an invitation in due form, that we “would honour the same with our presence,” has been received.

“What, you dance here?” I exclaimed on first hearing of it; “but you told me that your life and property were continually threatened; that you never knew when you lay down at night whether you would not be massacred by your revolted countrymen, ere another day dawned.”

“That’s quite true,” answered my servant, “but we dance for all that, and as often as we have the opportunity. Why should we neglect to cull the few flowerets growing on the short, dreary path of our life?”

I confess that I was not prepared for so much philosophy in such a place, and from such a man, savouring of a ci-devant at the time of the Convention rather than of a half-savage.

The streets of Citas might not improperly be called ridges of rock divided by minute precipices, down which, however, a stranger may break his neck. To avoid so great a calamity, we set out holding on to two native guides by means of ropes tied round our waist, for the night is pitch dark, and the distance to the jardana some 500 yards.

The house in which the entertainment is given wears a poor appearance. Three huge fires are burning, round which stand women busy with roasting and otherwise preparing the feast with chickens, turkeys, pork, etc.; whilst outside, other women are kneeling before metates, or, comals in hand, prepare tortillas to be served hot during the whole “fiesta.” A little in front is a thatched barn, lighted by smoking lamps, which forms the ball-room, with benches and chairs against the walls for the ladies, while in the centre the men dancers in white hose, flowing shirt, and loose coloured neckties, are meditating on whom their choice may fall with any chance of success. The whole village, Indians and Meztizos, are here to-night, but hardly any Ladinos or whites.

Every traveller who has witnessed these native dances, has described them as entrancing; for my part I confess that I find them devoid of attraction: the performers, without grace or animation, move gravely on one spot, without looking at or touching their partners, going round them as they would a pole, to the sound of very primitive and monotonous music.

“It is an Indian who gives the entertainment,” said my friend the judge. “It will last several days, or rather several nights, and cost at least sixty pounds, which to a native is a fortune—ruination in fact—but he will not care, and after him another will be found to take up the ball, and so on to the end of time.”

“But what happens afterwards?”

“Oh, nothing happens; they’ll go to their milpas as before; if the harvest is good they will lay by a little in view of another party when their turn comes round; if it is a bad year, they’ll pinch; if a famine, they’ll starve. Care never sits behind an Indian, and as for the lessons of experience, they seem incapable of learning them.”

In these entertainments may be traced the customs of the ancient Indians which are unconsciously kept up by their descendants. We read in Landa: “They often spent in one banquet what they had been a long time earning with difficulty. Banquets were of two kinds: those given by the caciques and great nobles to their friends for the mere pleasure of showing their hospitality, when they expected to be asked in return. The table on all such occasions was well provided with meats, game, vegetables, and fruit of every kind, and at the conclusion of the entertainment, the guests were presented with rich dresses and ornaments, when they withdrew after midnight.” “If one died before the debt of his obligation had been paid, the duty fell to his family. Next came the occasions when a marriage occurred in a family, or when the illustrious deeds of an ancestor were celebrated by the whole clan. On such occasions the necessity of returning the banquet was not enforced; but if a person belonging to another family had been asked, he was expected to invite them all again when he married.”120

There is positively nothing worthy of remark with regard to our road, save here and there a palm or cedar-tree towering like a giant over the thick underwood overrun with flowering lianas, peopled with great sky-blue butterflies, whose wings are tipped with black; for the whole country to the east and south of Citas is a vast scene of desolation. PistÉ, where we arrive, stands on the extreme border of the state; it has been so often sacked and burnt by the revolted natives, that the only building left is the church, occupied by a company of twenty-five men. It looks a forsaken, God-forgotten place, a veritable exile for the small garrison quartered here in turn for three months in the year; not that there is any immediate danger, for the natives, who first rose to conquer their liberties, fell to massacring from a spirit of revenge, and now only take the field for the sake of plunder. We have nothing to tempt their cupidity, consequently our escort of fifty men is a measure of prudence rather than of necessity.