Progreso is a miserable hamlet surrounded by low-lying swamps; here the luggage is examined, but in our case only pro formâ, and we are glad to resume our seats and to steam out of this unhealthy zone, although the country we traverse, on which nothing grows save brambles and brushwood, is no less flat or monotonous. We come presently to immense estates of henequen, a kind of agave, having long narrow leaves, yielding a solid shining thread, which is hardly known out of American markets; patches of verdure, bananas, palm-trees, and maritime pines, betray now and again a private residence, while smoking mills show the factories where the henequen is being prepared ready for exportation.

Were it not for the mysterious spirit of “los antiguos,” which seems to fill the whole country, the landscape to a less enthusiastic explorer must appear dreary and melancholy in the extreme. We pass eminences on our right on which once stood noble temples; these remains carry me back to the time when I first visited these parts, and when these ruins fixed my resolve to make archæology the business of my life. Next came a few straggling hamlets; groups of dark women in short petticoats, and naked urchins, gaze on us with wondering eyes as they stand at the entrance of their huts while we speed along. We reach Merida after a run of three hours over a distance of ten leagues, where we learn that no hotel or house is to be found, and it is only after searching the whole place that we can at last secure a room of some fifteen feet square, in which my two companions and myself have to settle down. There is but one atrociously bad restaurant where to get any kind of food; our thoughts, however, are taken up with exploring the ruins rather than with a good maître d’hôtel; we find, besides, a small Anglo-American colony, and in their midst our abominable fare is soon forgotten.

Francisco de Montejo, who founded Merida, had occupied Chichen in 1527, but had been compelled to abandon it and seek reinforcements in Mexico. On his return he was enabled, through a traitorous cacique, to establish himself here, and built Merida in 1542. The conquest of Yucatan was longer and beset with greater difficulties than that of Mexico; here the Spaniards were continually threatened by a warlike population, ever on the alert to raise the standard of rebellion. The history of this people can only be read on the monuments they have left, which have given rise to so many divergent hypotheses. Yet documents were not wanting, and had the religious zeal of the men of that time been less ill-judged, they would have found in the various and multiform manuscripts, in the charts or maps, in the idols, in the pottery and living traditions, ample and reliable materials from which to write an exhaustive history of the Maya civilisation. But the Spaniards were more careful to demolish than to preserve. Zumarraga, Bishop of Mexico, destroyed all the Aztec annals he could lay his hand upon, and Landa, Bishop of Merida, made an auto-da-fé of all the monuments he could collect, having done which, he set himself to writing his history, “De las Cosas de Yucatan.”104

All there now remains for us are mere gleanings, the interpretation of certain passages in this very Landa, in Cogolludo and Herrera, and above all by a careful comparison between these monuments and bas-reliefs with those we already know; for with their help only can we hope to reconstruct a past which becomes more familiar the more it is studied. These monuments have been endowed with fabulous antiquity; whereas, on the strength of my explorations, I assert that they are comparatively recent.

Merida stands on the site of ancient Ti-hoo or T-hoo, one of the chief cities of the peninsula; but nothing positive is known, and tradition is almost silent respecting it. If we are to believe the Spaniards, it had long been abandoned on their arrival; but this is not borne out by facts, for although they beheld a dense vegetation amidst the pyramids, the edifices on their summits were entire;105 moreover, Montejo was able to quarter his troops here, as well as the Indian contingent from Mani. Furthermore, Eligio Ancona, the modern Yucatec historian, describes a celebrated sanctuary known as H-Chun-Caan, “The centre and foundation of heaven,” which was the object of great veneration; it follows therefore that its imposing ceremonies were presided over by revered and powerful priests, that the temples and palaces in Merida were standing after the arrival of the Spaniards,106 although not in the vast proportions assigned to them by the Abbé Brasseur, whose lively imagination is apt to lead him astray.

Merida was built with the materials of the Indian city, and like all the Spanish places of the New World, is but a huge chess-board, with streets running at right angles, consisting of square blocks of buildings. The centre is occupied by a large plaza, having a waterless fountain and gardens, the flowers of which are perishing for want of water; as for the young trees planted about, they doubtless will afford shade to future generations; for the present the glare of this open space is intolerable. When I visited it some twenty years ago, if not so symmetrical it was certainly more picturesque. In the plaza are found the municipal palace and the cathedral, MONTEJO’S HOUSE, MERIDA. MONTEJO’S HOUSE, MERIDA. of monumental proportions for a place of 30,000 souls; it numbered, probably, only the third of this when it was built in 1598. Its erection cost the pious Meridans £60,000, equivalent at the present day to fifteen times that sum, but it is doubtful if even with its greater population so large a sum could now be raised. The front, 179 feet wide, is occupied by a central pavilion in which the principal entrance intervenes, ornamented by an indifferent Corinthian portico, over which, at a height of some 97 feet, a great vaulted arch supports an elegant gallery; on each side of the pavilion are two steeples with a number of galleries narrowing in upward succession, forming with their balustrades a pleasing contrast to the plain façade. The interior of the church, 289 feet long, is imposing; it consists of three naves with round arches, supported by twelve immense columns, and twenty of like dimensions imbedded in the walls. Small chapels run along the sides, and the structure altogether bears the impress of solidity which is so conspicuous a feature of the conquerors’ work. To the south of the square stands Montejo’s house, bearing the date of 1541; it is the oldest in Merida, and an interesting specimen of that epoch. It may be worthy of mention that the sculptures in this house are as defaced as those of the Indian monuments, which seems to indicate similarity of date. The pillars on each side of the entrance bear aloft two Spanish soldiers, whilst on the first floor, by the window, knights armed cap-à-pie are standing on two recumbent Indians, personating the subjugation of the race. The façade with its columns, statues, arabesques, and shields, is a fair specimen of American Renaissance; but if the composition was Spanish, the work, probably, was due to Indian hands, for at the time of its erection the Spaniards were a handful of soldiers or adventurers, whose pride would not have suffered them to do any manual labour.

Artisans were plentiful among the Mayas, who have interspersed their country with so many remarkable monuments, and whose building aptitude is notable even at the present day. Beside these edifices the town, with very few exceptions, is an assemblage of low houses having but the ground floor, while all the windows are stoutly grated to secure the inmates against housebreakers. But the impression produced by this unpromising exterior soon gives place to agreeable surprise on being introduced into spacious apartments opening on the “patio,” encompassed by Moorish cloisters. The patios are planted with flowers, shrubs, and palm-trees, which, towering above the terraced roofs, break the monotonous lines of the town panorama. Our cut shows Don Alvaro Peon’s house with its charming gallery on the first floor.

All movement and life centre towards the market-place, where Spaniards, Indians, and Meztizos are seen in their picturesque costumes; sellers are crying out their goods, consisting of pottery and baskets, the facsimiles of those we bought at Tula; somewhat further we come across some natives bending under heavy loads of “ramon,” the green twigs of a particular tree, affording the only forage in a country without grass. Here young caballeros are stopped by cumbrous carts taking up the whole street with their enormous bales of henequen; further on, women in snowy white costumes sit in long rows, offering with a pretty grace their small stock-in-trade spread before them. Among this motley crowd I spied a diminutive “aguador” looking so bonnie that I wished to take his photograph, making his less favoured companions envious thereat.107

The Mayas, both in type and language, are unlike both the surrounding tribes and those of the plateaux; they are said to be an ancient race, but this assumption is based on no positive proof. Cogolludo believes the first inhabitants to have come from Cuba; and Agassiz, who studied these tribes in their respective homes, leans to the same opinion. Traditions and ancient writers, confirmed in modern times by Humboldt, all are unanimous in asserting that this country was invaded towards the end of the eleventh and the beginning of the twelfth century by the Toltecs.108 Granted their building genius, seeing that both the architecture and the decorations of the edifices correspond to the descriptions left by historians respecting Toltec palaces and temples of the Uplands, we are in a position to affirm that there was no other civilisation in Central America except the Toltec civilisation, and that if another existed, our having met with no trace of it gives us the right to deny it altogether.

When two civilisations come in contact, the outcome is a mixture of both which is easy of recognition. Take as an instance India after the Mohammedan Conquest, where Indo-Arabic monuments are notable to the most inexperienced eye. If, therefore, Yucatan had possessed an indigenous civilisation, we should certainly have found monuments or ruins indicating as much; or if destroyed by time, we should have found others of a composite character, showing the fusion of the two races, whereas nothing of the kind occurs, and the older monuments, or those which appear so, are in no respect different from the more recent or Toltec ones. Consequently the Mayas, who were peculiarly well fitted for receiving a superior culture, had their share in the artistic manifestations to be met with through the length and breadth of the peninsula, and being the stronger nationality they opposed a stouter and longer resistance to the hated invaders. Even now, after three centuries of degrading oppression, a Maya, or Maya-Toltec, preserves distinctive characteristics by which he can be singled out from among a number of different nationalities, nor would it be easy to find among the rural classes of Europe men of a better build, or with more intelligent and open countenances. Their heads are round, their eyes black, their noses arched, their ears and mouth small, they are deep-chested, straight-jawed, with round chin and sound square teeth, their hair is black, straight, and coarse, their complexion reddish brown.

The form of government was monarchical and almost absolute; below were the nobles, the priests, the people, and the slaves. Such a partition, amounting to almost castes, presupposes an anterior conquest. The lands were divided between the crown, the nobility, the temples, and the people. The division was by no means equal, by far the greater proportion being appropriated by the king, the aristocracy, and the temples. The lands of the people were the common property of the community and not of individuals. Every member of the community had a portion suitable to his position and requirements, which he was entitled to hold as long as he cultivated it. As the soil was very poor, no plough was used in ancient times, nor later by the Spaniards. Four-fifths of the land was suffered to lie fallow, and every five years the brushwood was cut down and burnt to manure the ground ready to receive the Indian corn. The work was chiefly done by men; the women planting the seed, husking the corn, and doing such light labours as were suitable to their weaker frames. The peasants were bound to till the land for their lord, to supply him with game, fish, flowers, salt, and other comforts, and to accompany him in battle.

The campaigns were short, sharp, and severe; for as commissariat was unknown, they were generally decided in one engagement, when no pity was shown the vanquished, no quarter given, and what could not be plundered was destroyed. This explains the number of ruined cities which were rebuilt and the new monuments erected after each war. Diaz remarks that the military dress of the warriors consisted of a breast-piece made of quilted cotton, which was completely arrow-proof, and was adopted by the conquerors in place of their heavy steel armour. Their head-dress was a casque ornamented with rich feathers, prominent amongst which were the quetzal. The rank and file wore no clothing except the maxtli in battle, but by painting their faces and bodies in grotesque patterns of brilliant colours, and covering their heads with raw cotton, they presented a fierce and gaudy appearance. Painting the face and body with red, black, and white was universal; on the return from an expedition the warrior’s paint was substituted for tattooing. “Stripes, serpents, animals, and birds,” says Cogolludo, “were the favourite devices for this kind of decoration, according to their military order; the warrior being entitled to a fresh hieroglyph after each notable feat of arms, an old veteran came to have his whole body covered with them.”

Owing to the warm climate the Maya dress was simple and scanty in the extreme. Men wore almost universally the maxtli (a long strip of cotton cloth, wound round the loins); children up to two years of age wore no clothes at all; the baby girls, like those in Java, had a string round their waist, from which depended a shell, the removal of which was looked upon as sinful. The dress of the nobles, both men and women, consisted of loose tunics and flowing mantles dyed in brilliant and variegated colours. The hair was worn short, cut in a fringe on the forehead; no beard was allowed, and the few hairs that made their appearance on the face were immediately extracted. Squinting was fashionable, and mothers ensured it for their daughters by suffering a tuft of hair to hang over their eyes. Their ears, nose, and lips were adorned with jewels. Cranial disfigurement seems to have been confined to the priests and nobles.109 According to Landa,110 four or five days after birth the child was laid with the face down on a bed of osiers, and the head compressed between two pieces of wood, one on the forehead and the other on the back, the boards being kept in place for several days until the desired cranial flattening was effected. This Spartan process was often attended with disastrous results. Tamenes practised this flattening on the forehead only, which was thus better adapted to the carrying of burdens. Disfigured Tamenes skulls were found by us at Teotihuacan, and on the pottery of Vera Cruz.

Eligio Ancona draws a mournful picture of the Mayas before the Conquest: “They were much oppressed by the king, the nobles, and in a special manner by the restless and ambitious caciques constantly at war with each other; the education of the youth of both sexes rested entirely with the priests, the clans of the people were ignorant and degraded; men were sold in the market or sacrificed on the altars; women excluded from society and the family circle,” etc. The nation prospered in spite of it all; the country was densely populated, while the monuments everywhere attest that the arts flourished.

What have the Spaniards done for them? Have they relieved their misery, dispelled their ignorance, minimised their vices? The peninsula counted millions before the Conquest; there are not a hundred thousand at the present day, and they are more sunk and wretched than at any time of their existence. For a nation is always found to have the religion and the Government best suited to its character or degree of civilisation; let extraneous institutions, whether civil or religious, however superior, be imposed upon them, they seem only to stultify and dishearten a people they were not intended for.

Meztizas are one of the chief attractions of Merida; they are looked upon as an inferior caste, but this they seem to accept with indifference, revenging themselves on society by their attractive ways, which it is not given to man to resist; for even those who are not beautiful, and they are few, have a winning grace, a peculiar charm all their own. To a certain extent this is due to their becoming costume, which consists in a loose tunic with short sleeves and square body, leaving arms and neck bare; this tunic, uipil, is tastefully embroidered at the neck, arms, and bottom with red, blue, or green devices; the under-skirt, fustan, is trimmed with rich lace, while their clustering black hair is set off by a silver arrow; they wear rings on their fingers, and chains of gold depend from their lovely necks, often constituting their whole dowry. Meztizos have a quarter at the outskirts of the town allotted to them, where they inhabit oblong thatched cottages decorated outside with a diamond pattern showing where the lines join. It is probable that these huts are identical with those of the Mayas of ancient days, while there is no doubt as to the decorations being like the mouldings of the old palaces. A hamac, one or two trunks to put their clothes in, a butaca or low leather arm-chair, compose the sole furniture of these poor dwellings. From a little distance, the Meztizo quarter looks like a cool, pleasant grove, for each hut stands on ground covering a quarter of an acre planted with ramon. Meridan ladies are never seen out of doors except at church, or during their evening drive. Church hours are unusually early here, beginning at three a.m., when all the bells of the town are set ringing, to awake, I suppose, a slumbering population.

Meridans are sociable and more conversant with the questions of the day than might be expected: two scholars, Eligio and Canon Ancona, have written both of the times preceding and those following the Conquest; while the rising generation of men is studious, intelligent, and manly; literary meetings, periodicals, reviews, concerts, theatres, and dances, keep the population pleasantly occupied. The civility I experienced with regard to my mission was very welcome and flattering to my self-respect, the good canon presenting me with an obsidian sceptre, a marvel of workmanship, now to be seen in the Trocadéro. This people, unlike the Mexicans of the Uplands, are good men of business, and what trade or industry the country possesses is entirely in their own hands. They have the characteristics of a race in its manhood, enduring, self-possessed, patient, and industrious. The only falling off noticeable (due to the climate) is a diminution in their stature, and a disproportionately large female element. Never were their qualities better tested than during their social war, when they stood single-handed and succeeded, after years of hard fighting and sore distress, in recovering their municipal rights.111

Their soil may be poor, they may not have mineral wealth like their neighbours, but their thrift and industrious habits bring their own reward. It would be interesting to tell the long struggle of this gallant people to regain their independence; suffice it to say that the risings of the natives began in 1761, to break forth into a formidable insurrection in 1846, which has continued with hardly any interruption to the present day.

The Indian, whether his spirit is broken by long oppression, or from some other cause, seems to shrink and melt away at the approach of the white man, and to retire more and more from the beaten paths of civilisation.

The environs of Merida are interspersed with numerous haciendas; amongst these Ascorra is certainly one of the most picturesque. Three norias, or deep wells, give ample water for the requirements of the household, the irrigation of the garden, and the plantation.

The house, with its verandah festooned with creepers, its flower-beds, shrubs, and palms, is a charming picture of beauty and comfort; multitudes of ducks, mandarins, swans, and flamingoes people the ponds, while rills of water cool the air and add to the enjoyment of this lovely spot. Here I noticed for the first time a liana bearing a curious large flower of 1-1/2 feet long by 9 inches wide, with a filament of more than 1 foot 9 inches, making over 3 feet altogether. The colour is bluish green outside, while the inside is like a spring muslin, with red devices on a dazzling white ground, deepening down the calyx into a rich red velvet bordered with prone hairs. The bud resembles a web-footed animal swimming, hence its name flor de pato, “duck’s flower.” It may not improperly be compared to an immense aristochia. This liana was, I believe, imported from the Antilles; but nothing is perfect in this world, not even this marvellous flower, which astonished both Agassiz and myself, for no sooner is it fully blown than it stinks so abominably that its immediate removal becomes an imperative necessity.

To lay out this lovely garden, it was necessary to blast the rocks forming the crust of this country; and as the work is still going on, it enabled Mr. Agassiz to study its formation, which, like Florida, belongs to the recent Tertiary epoch. We tarried but one day at Ascorra, for we wished to visit the Tepich Hacienda, where the largest henequen factory in these parts is to be seen, worked by machinery, a great innovation for this country. The exports of this important industry are reckoned at £600 a year. The want of hands, however, precludes the possibility for the present of any scheme being mooted to give it greater extension. The country is not sufficiently favoured to tempt immigrants; unless it were Malay coolies, who would not suffer from the climate, and who, moreover, when crossed with Meztizas or Indian women, would produce a magnificent race.

We resume our seats for Acanceh, formerly a populous centre, as testified by three great pyramids still extant in the plaza, which supported ancient temples on their summits. In one of them which furnished the material for the builders of the station, fine sculptured blocks, like those employed at Uxmal for building purposes, were found; together with several funeral objects, fine obsidians, a magnificent sceptre, in my possession, and vases identical with those we unearthed at Teotihuacan. These affinities and resemblances between Yucatec vestiges and those of the Uplands, are of constant occurrence.

CHAPTER XVI.

AKÉ AND IZAMAL.

Departure—A Family Exploration—“Volan coché”—Tixpénal and Tixkokob—Cenoté—Ruins of Aké—Historical Rectification—Small Pyramid—Tlachtli—A Large Gallery—Explorations—A Strange Theory—Picoté—Architecture of Yucatan at Different Epochs.

On our return from Merida, an expedition to Aké was organised consisting of the American Consul, Mr. Aymé, his wife, her pet dog Shuty, and ourselves. Mr. Aymé is an energetic archæologist, well acquainted with the ruins, so that his offer to accompany us was most welcome. The ruins of Aké are on a hacienda which belongs to Don Alvaro Peon, from whom a permit was easily obtained; he furnishing us besides with a large hamper to supply our wants, which his Chinese cook was to take to the hacienda.

Journeys in the interior of the peninsula may be performed either by diligence or “volan coché,” a national vehicle, made entirely of wood, save the iron tires of the wheels. An oblong box balanced on two leather springs is placed on a heavy underframe, the bottom of the carriage lined with a stout flax net, on which is spread a mattress, to deaden to some extent the jolting of these abominable roads. The coachman sits in front, while the back is occupied by the baggage; when the coché has but one occupant, he generally lies full-length on the mattress; but if not he sits Turkish fashion, which in time becomes very irksome to one not to the manner born; as to the natives, it seems to be immaterial how many are packed away in a “volan.” Although well hung, the swaying of these cochés is truly amazing, especially when the driver is drunk and sets his mules full gallop; but most wonderful of all is that nothing ever happens, and in my numerous expeditions I was only once upset.

Aké lies ten leagues east of Merida, which can be reached by the Izamal road, through immense estates of agave, leaving on the right two mounds covered with ruins and passing Tixpénal, a wretched-looking village, as indeed is the whole country around; but the half-burnt, tumbled-down hovels are the work of the revolted natives, who in 1846 occupied the village and set fire to it.

Some three leagues further lies Tixkokob, where we halt to have a cup of chocolate. The inhabitants are great hammock-makers, and through the open doors, multicoloured nets may be descried in every stage of progress. They are the only beds used by the natives, and cost from half-a-crown to four shillings, but those made at Valladolid are more expensive. Here we leave the main road for a cross path, when we may be said to become fully acquainted with a coché’s peculiarities. We are rocked to and fro in the most alarming manner; we hold on to the net like grim death, for fear of being pitched out on the stony road or landed among prickly pears at every turn. It is with a sigh of relief that we reach Ekmul, long after the curfew has been sounded, and the place lies wrapped in the silence and deep shadows of night. We found the hacienda strongly bolted, for the inmates had given us up; but the loud barking of the dogs brought Don Peon’s mayordomo, and we were soon made at home and as comfortable as the somewhat dilapidated nature of the dwelling would allow.

We were up at early dawn, when we found under the thatched verandah a number of Don Peon’s servants, with hatchets and machetes, awaiting our orders for clearing the main pyramid, and while so engaged, we proposed to visit a cenoté lying on the other side of a thick wood containing various ruins. This hacienda is stocked with horned cattle, and we were warned to provide against garrapatas, the most terrible wood-lice in existence. We had taken, or fancied we had taken, all the precautions which the ingenuity of man, alarmed at the approach of danger, could devise. But against the voracity of a famished garrapata what can avail? This insidious insect is invisible in its early youth; thinner than the thinnest paper, it steals, it creeps in quite easily between two stitches!

But what is a “cenoté”?

Although Yucatan is uncut by rivers or streams, an immense sheet of water and ill-defined currents occupy its under surface; these waters are near the surface along the coast, but low down in the interior of the peninsula, where the calcareous layer is of great thickness. Localities where these waters can be reached, whether through the natural subsidence of the soil or artificial pits, receive the name of cenoté. When the water flows at a slight depth, and the calcareous layer has only been partly eaten away, there follows an irregular sinking which forms a cave open from side to side; but when the crust is thicker, and the stream has a regular course, the soil is generally corroded in a circular space; and the vault thus formed lacking support, falls in, when an immense open well is made, as for instance at Chichen-Itza. Often the crust is so deep, that the soft parts only crumble down or are carried away, leaving frequently a small aperture towards the top, fashioning a real grotto with stalactites and stalagmites, as at Salacun and Valladolid. It sometimes happens that the calcareous crust is exceedingly thick, when a gigantic subterraneous passage is formed, as at Bolonchen; in a word, all the varieties which are produced by the silent work of an undisturbed stream in a friable soil, may be witnessed. It is worthy of note that most civilised centres in Yucatan rose around these natural reservoirs; for the early settlers were probably unacquainted with the means of sinking artificial wells or cisterns, as they did later at Uxmal.

The Aké cenoté is thirty feet below the surface, and belongs to the early series of these natural phenomena. It forms a gigantic vault slightly curved, to which the accidents of the rock give a picturesque and grand aspect. The bottom is occupied by an extensive piece of clear fresh water, peopled by a multitude of small fish some three inches long, while thousands of swallows flit about, filling the whole place with their joyous twitter.

We left the cenoté to come back through the woods, spying out if peradventure we could perceive any ruins from under their deep, green shroud, brushing unwittingly past the trailing branches of the trees, suffocating literally in our well-closed garments; no unusual sensation, no unseemly irritation had as yet alarmed us. Shuty was the first to show that all was not well with her. We had already noticed some signs of uneasiness as we emerged from the cenoté; she would suddenly stop, to nibble her paws, or perform some extraordinary gymnastic feat; gyrating, running, and barking joyously at the empty space.

We came presently to some very intricate parts of the wood, when the somewhat fictitious gaiety of Shuty turned into groans of acute agony, rolling madly on the grass, biting herself, and howling lamentably until her mistress took her into her arms, to find her alive with garrapatas, as indeed we all were; there was nothing for it but to return to the hacienda as quickly as possible, and institute a minute and conscientious investigation. A complete change of clothes became necessary, ere we could sit down to the very excellent breakfast prepared for us by Don Peon’s cook; as for Mrs. Aymé and Shuty, they did not venture on the perils of another exploration in the fated woods.

Here I again noticed the same curious phenomenon I had observed at Palenque with regard to concentric circles in the trees; on the great pyramid which Don Peon had caused to be cleared only six months before, and which was now thickly covered with young shoots our men were fast demolishing, I counted no less than seven or eight circles on the twigs.

The ruins of Aké are hardly known; Stephens, their only visitor besides myself, calls the gallery “colossal, the ruins of the palace ruder, older, and more cyclopean in aspect than any he had previously seen.” Quoting Cogolludo, apparently from memory, he adds that the Spaniards halted at a place called Aké, where a great battle was fought; had he read Cogolludo properly, he would have seen that the place meant could not be Aké, which lay out of the line of march of the conquerors. We have had occasion to observe before that Montejo landed on the eastern coast of Yucatan at a place now opposite to Valladolid, where he took possession of the country; various other points are also given, but it is certain that he made his way to Coni in Chiapas, halted at Coba, and continued his march to Ce-Aké, where he had to fight the Indians for two days; hence he directed his course to Chichen-Itza, which he wished to colonise, because “its great buildings made it easy of defence.”112 This was in 1527; but Ce-Aké was thirty-five leagues east of the ruins of another Aké, once a populous centre, as shown by fifteen or twenty pyramids of all dimensions, crowned with ruinous palaces, scattered over a space of about half a square mile. The largest are grouped so as to form a rectangle, encircling a vast courtyard, the centre of which is occupied by a large stone of punishment called picoté, of universal use before and after the Conquest, and still found at Uxmal and various other places. An old Indian of Tenosiqué assured me that such a stone was standing some thirty years ago in the plaza. The culprit was stripped and tied to the picoté previous to receiving the bastinado. This custom still prevails at Tumbala, an Indian village lying between Palenque and S. Christobal. According to the Indian moral code, punishment makes a man clean, and I have seen natives who, to have a clear conscience, requested a punishment no one dreamt of inflicting.

The plan we give is, unfortunately, very incorrect, but such as it is it will enable the reader to follow out our description of the ruins. To the north-west is a three-storeyed pyramid like those at Palenque, built with large blocks laid together without mortar, about 40 feet high, crowned by a small structure whose roof has crumbled away but whose walls are still standing. We recognise the same style of structure we observed at Tula and Teotihuacan, a style we shall meet again both in Yucatan and in the district of the Lacandones. It may be stated that pyramids with esplanades, both here and at Palenque, although built with large stones, are smaller than those of the monuments in other places, and if the blocks were laid in mortar it has crumbled away like the cement which formed the outer surface.

The dimensions of this structure are so diminutive that it cannot have been anything but a temple, forming part of the next monument which it commands. The latter from its rectangular arrangement recalls to mind the so-called fortresses at Tula and Teotihuacan, which were in reality tlachtli, “tennis-courts.”

The third monument has given rise to many conjectures; it is a large pyramid with an immense staircase, presenting a new and extraordinary feature, entirely different from all we have seen in Yucatan. Was this a specimen of a different civilisation, or simply a particular building which belonged to an earlier epoch?—were the questions which presented themselves to my somewhat bewildered imagination. This strange monument is surmounted by thirty-six pillars (only twenty-nine are still standing) each 4 feet square, and from 14 to 16 feet high. These pillars are arranged in three parallel rows 10 feet apart from north to south, and 15 from east to west; whilst the esplanade supporting them is 212 feet long by 46 feet wide, rounded off at the extremities like the Hunpitoc pyramid at Izamal looking north-south. Each pillar is composed of ten square stones 3 ft. 10 in. on one side, varying in thickness from 1 ft. 3 in. to 1 ft. 6 in. A gigantic staircase with steps some 4 ft. 7 in. to 6 ft. 7 in. long and about 1 ft. to 1 ft. 6 in. thick, leads to the summit.

It was urged that all these monuments had been constructed with uncemented stones, as neither cement nor mortar were found at Aké. This, however, is an error, for I observed that the builders used stones cut on the side facing the outer surface of the pillars, leaving the inner sides uncut; and as they did not perfectly fit one into another, but left cavities sometimes 3 inches deep, they were filled up with fragments of stone rubble which I found, and the whole was no doubt smoothed and polished over with mortar or cement.113

But what was this singular structure intended for? If for a covered gallery, the wood or thatch roof has long since disappeared and left no trace. Could it have been a commemorative monument? We know not, save that it is the only monument of the kind in Yucatan, and that its dimensions are far from colossal. Not that theories are wanting; some writers have gone so far as to imagine this monument to have been erected to commemorate periods or reigns, and each block to represent either a ahau-katun, “twenty-four years,” or a century, katun, “fifty-two years.” Now, as there are thirty-six pillars having each ten stones, this monument would be, by the first computation, 8,640 years old, and by the second, 18,720. It is clear that were this the case the first stone would have disappeared long before the last one had been placed, and that the earlier would have looked older than the later ones, whereas the same air of decay is observable in all. It is more simple and consistent to suppose this monument to have been a thatched gallery which was used for games, meetings, or public ceremonies. Its central position as regards other monuments would seem to bear me out. Is a ruin to be interesting only in ratio of its obscurity and antiquity?

After the pyramid, we visited the ruin known as Akabna, “House of Darkness,” in which the rooms still standing are perfectly dark; for the only light they receive is from a door communicating with other apartments. Here we again find the boveda, the corbel roof, the pointed arch observed in previous buildings. The Aké vault is built with large rough blocks, which has caused these monuments to be called cyclopean, an appellation hardly deserved, for cyclopean structures were built with far larger blocks, irregular in shape, yet fitting so well that it would be impossible to introduce the slightest object between the joints, whilst the stones employed in the constructions at Aké are uniform, consisting of thick uncut slabs, with large gaps intervening. This I observed to Mr. Aymé: “You hold that Aké structures were built without mortar or cement, and that no sculpture or decoration of any kind have been found, but I lay down as a principle, that it is altogether impossible, without wishing to deny the very novel features of the phenomenon we are confronted with; and nothing except the most irrefragable proofs will bring me from my position of total denial, for I am convinced that the builders would not have left structures so important unfinished. If these stones fitted originally, the gaps which are noticeable would be the work of time, and this were to give them an impossible and incredible antiquity, since the slabs are rounded off or sharp at the edges as if quarried yesterday; further, both in the interior or facing the walls, they are exactly in the same condition, from which I conclude that all were originally laid in cement, and coated over in the usual manner.”

Soon after this conversation we visited the ruin called Knuc, “Owl’s Palace,” and on reaching the top of the great pyramid, the first thing I noticed was a very pretty bas-relief of cement, consisting of diamonds and flattened spheres, of the kind met at Palenque. This relief formed the right side of a frame, topped by figures, traces of which were still discernible; below the projecting cornice was a thick coating of plaster, filling the joints, well smoothed and polished on the surface, and also a coating of paint on the wall.

“Well,” I said to my companion, Mr. Aymé, “what do you say now?”

“That you were perfectly right.”

And, indeed, this discovery proved that the monuments could no longer be considered the work of a different race, a different civilisation, or a hoary antiquity. In effect, their cement decorations are similar to those of the older edifices in Tabasco and many in Yucatan. I shall therefore distinguish the Aké period under three heads: the cement epoch, the cement and cut stone, and the cut stone only, when the builders used only the latter in their decorations, examples of which are to be found in the later edifices at Uxmal and Kabah.

The Aké builders lived in a country where the calcareous layer was taken up in sheets varying from 10 inches to 1 foot 7 inches thick. They used them exactly as they came from the quarry, thus saving great expenditure in labour. When the shell of a structure was run up, it was thickly plastered over, painted, and ornamented with mouldings in relief. This explains at once why the stones on the pillars of the gallery and the blocks of the grand stairway are irregular. The discovery of the bas-relief and cornice filled me with joyful expectation, but although I was indefatigable in visiting the Succuna and other nameless pyramids, I brought to light nothing more of the kind; everything had crumbled away. Here are also found the typical superimposed layers of cement, which we mentioned in various places inhabited by the Toltecs.

To sum up, Aké seems to belong to the early times of the Toltec invasion in Yucatan; an epoch which may not improperly be termed Maya-Toltec, as the civilisation in Tabasco and Chiapas may be termed Tzendal-Toltec, and that of Guatemala, Guatemalto-Toltec.