After the revolution of 1870 and the fall of the ecclesiastical party from power the newly constituted Government decreed the suppression of all religious societies (excepting the Sisters of Charity), and the last of the monks and nuns were driven out of the country; but it was not until three years later that the cofradias were interfered with and the saints deprived of their yearly visits to their own houses. Not long after this the Government offered the vacant houses for sale; but I am delighted to say that the scheme was for many years a failure, partly on account of a lingering belief that the Church party might return to power, and partly because no Indian or Ladino could be found sufficiently bold to risk a midnight encounter with an angry saint who might tire of his residence in the church and come back to look after his own property. At last, saints’ houses fell so low in the market that some of the less superstitious were attracted by the bargains offered. Gorgonio was one of the first to take advantage of this state of affairs, and managed to secure a well-built house, but not until he had many earnest consultations with my husband as to his prospects of receiving unsolicited visits from another world.

Amongst other results of the suppression of the cofradias is the gradual decadence of the curious Indian dances, some of which have been named; most of them are merely pantomimic, but the Moros and Christianos—in which the persons represented are Cortés, Montezuma, the King of Jerusalem, and the King of Spain—is half-dance and half-drama, like the performances of Christmas “mummers” in England, and has partly the same origin, for there seems to be no doubt that the native Indian dances were modified and altered on the lines of mediæval mystery-plays by the missionary monks of the fifteenth century, much in the same way as the heathen revels of Yuletide had been changed to meet a Christian cult.

Nothing in this garden portion of Coban where the Indians live suggests the bare plaza, half the day bustling with noisy marketing and half the day a dreary waste, which is the chief characteristic of a Central-American town; and it came quite as a surprise to me when, on passing through an arched tower at the end of a straggling street, I suddenly found myself in a great square with all the usual accompaniments of church, cabildo, and cárcel—nothing omitted—not, even in this arcadia, the sad-eyed prisoner with hands stretched through the bars begging an alms of the passer-by. Although I was loth thus suddenly to exchange the atmosphere of a quiet country village for the bustle of a market-town, I must own that the scene which met my view ranks high for brilliancy and animation even in this country of colour-loving southrons. The weekly market was at its height and the great space was thronged with gaily-dressed women presiding over baskets of fruits, vegetables, and flowers, and stalls hung with bright-coloured fabrics, and the impression left on my mind is as of a maze of sunlight, colour, movement, and thriving abundance.

At the end of the plaza stands the great church with the Convento attached to it. Although this church was not built until some years later, it was the direct outcome of the missionary efforts of Bartolomé Las Casas, the “Apostle of the Indies,” whose unframed portrait still hangs on its walls, and of his devoted companions of the brotherhood of St. Dominic, which began in the year 1537. At that time Las Casas was a member of the Dominican convent at Santiago, and had lately published his celebrated pamphlet, ‘De Unico Vocationis modo,’ in which he denounced the warfare carried on against the Indians, dwelt on the horrors and wrongs inflicted on them, and contended that their conversion should be effected by persuasion alone. Such doctrines raised a storm of angry disapproval from the Spaniards, for although the power of the Quichés had been broken by the destruction of Utatlan and Uspantan, the position of the settlers was not altogether secure, and one expedition after another had been driven back from Tuzulutlan, which had earned the ill-omened name of “la tierra de guerra,” the land of war. In scornful answer to his appeal the monk was told to try the experiment himself, and Tuzulutlan was jeeringly suggested as a good field for his operations. Las Casas was quick to see his chance, and promptly accepting the challenge which had been flung at him in derision asked only a fair field and no favour for his enterprise. These conditions were granted, and the acting Governor, Alonzo Maldonado, wrote to him promising that if he would convert the Indians of the land of war to the true faith, and induce them to acknowledge the lordship of the Spanish crown and pay a moderate tribute to his majesty, none of the townships or people of that province should be given in “encomienda” to a Spaniard, and that no Spaniard should be allowed to enter the land of the converts or in any way interfere with them for the space of five years.

THE PLAZA, COBAN.

The method adopted by the Dominican missionaries to overcome the hostility and suspicion of the fierce inhabitants of Tuzulutlan, and to gain touch of their chiefs, was simple and ingenious. Las Casas and his three brethren, Rodrigo de Ladrada, Pedro de Angulo, and Luis Cancer, had all acquired a knowledge of the Quiché language, dialects of which were spoken both in Guatemala and Tuzulutlan, and in this language they composed verses embodying the story of the fall of man and his redemption and the other tenets of the Christian faith. They then sought out four Indian traders who were accustomed to make journeys to Sacapulas and Tuzulutlan to sell their goods, and to these men, who had already become Christians, the Padres taught the verses they had composed, so that they might chant them to the accompaniment of native instruments and the tinkling of little Spanish bells. Small articles of European manufacture for presents to the chiefs were added to the traders’ packs, and they set out for Sacapulas, where they were well received by its cacique, who was then by far the most influential man in that part of the country. When the trading was over for the day, and whilst the chief persons of the neighbourhood were still assembled in the house of the cacique, the traders begged the loan of some musical instruments and then tinkling the “cascabeles,” which they had brought with them from Guatemala, they commenced their chant. The novel form of the music and the wonderful story which the verses told had the wished-for effect on the hearers, so that the chant had to be repeated time after time and day after day to increasing crowds of eager listeners. When, however, the cacique enquired more closely into the meaning of the words of the song, the traders told him that they themselves were unable to give him any further explanation, as that could be given by the Padres alone. “And who, then, are these Padres?” asked the cacique, “for I have never seen nor heard of them.” The traders replied that they were men clad in black and white garments, who wore their hair cut in the form of a wreath, who ate no meat, and who desired neither gold nor cloaks, nor feathers nor cacao, who were not married yet lived chaste lives, who sang the praises of God both day and night, and possessed beautiful images, before which they knelt in prayer, and that these men alone could explain the meaning of the verses; but that such good men were they, and so ready to impart their knowledge to all, that should the cacique send for them they would most willingly come to instruct him. The cacique pondered over the words of the traders, and finally agreed that his younger brother, a youth of twenty-two years, should accompany the traders on their return journey to Guatemala. He privately instructed the youth to seize every opportunity to learn if it were really true that the padres possessed neither gold nor silver, and did not beg for it nor hunt for it, as all other Christians did, and whether it were true that they neither had women in their houses nor treated with them elsewhere. It is needless to say that the young Indian chieftain was well received at Guatemala by Las Casas and his companions, and that he returned to his country well pleased, in company with Luis Cancer, who successfully commenced the conversion of the people.

In October 1537 Las Casas himself set out for Sacapulas, and was soon to have proof given him of the influence of the missionary teaching. The cacique, who was known to the Spaniards by the name of Don Juan, had made arrangements for the marriage of his brother, the youth who had accompanied the traders to Guatemala, to the daughter of the Cacique of Coban, and had prepared great festivities wherewith to celebrate the wedding. On such occasions it was an old custom to perform certain ceremonies when visitors from Coban crossed the river which divided the two jurisdictions; but in this instance before the members of the bridal party had arrived at the river banks, the cacique Don Juan sent a messenger to them to say that the festivities, dances, and feasts which he had prepared in their honour would afford ample proof of the great contentment with which he awaited their coming. He, however, begged of them to leave behind the turkeys and other birds and animals which they were bringing with them to sacrifice on the passage of the river, for, time-honoured as was that custom, he was no longer prepared to take his part in it, having learned to look on such customs as naught but vanity and deceit with which the Devil had blinded his eyes, and that the Padres had taught him to pay adoration to the one true and only God. Such a request caused consternation amongst the chiefs from Coban, and their first impulse was to return with the bride to her home and declare war on Don Juan, for they feared that his acceptance of Christian teaching would entail the subjection of his country to the rule of the Spaniards, and that it would be their own turn next to be conquered and despoiled by the hated foreigners. When, however, they learnt that the territory of Don Juan had been left in peace and that no armed Spaniard had entered it, they reconsidered their decision, and both fearing to lose such a powerful alliance and confident that they could secure a good augury for the bride by offering even richer sacrifices to their own gods on their return home, they sent a message to Don Juan granting his request that the customary sacrifices at the passage of the river should be omitted, and adding that in this and all other matters it was their desire to please him.

About this time Las Casas himself arrived at Don Juan’s house and received a warm welcome from the cacique, although there was some grumbling amongst the people at the desertion of their old gods, and the first Christian church was burnt to the ground almost as soon as it was built—rumour said by some of the followers of the chieftains from Coban who were incensed at the omission of the customary sacrifices. However, the battle was now half won, for the Dominicans had gained a hold on Tuzulutlan, and had got into touch with Coban. That same year Las Casas and Pedro de Angulo made a journey through the former province, and, thanks to the friendship and care of Don Juan, were everywhere well received. There were, however, many difficulties to be met and overcome, and the first to make itself felt was an administrative difficulty which arose from the habit of the Indians of living “in small scattered communities of not more than six houses together and these a musket-shot apart.” How was it possible with such a small staff of missionaries to teach the people and keep control of them when not more than three or four households could be got together at a time and these could only be revisited at long intervals? To meet this difficulty Las Casas sought to induce the Indians to dwell together in towns, and the township of Rabinal was founded about a league distant from its present site. This step, no doubt, ensured the more rapid conversion of the natives and secured the more efficient supervision by the priests, but it met with great opposition from the Indians, for, as the chronicler says, “each one hated to leave the hut and the hill, valley, or barranca in which he was born.” And later experience has proved the inexpediency of a measure which increased the danger of contagion in the cases of European disease amongst persons whose constitutions were already upset by a change in the manner of life. However, this was not a result likely to be foreseen at the time, and we may acquit a man who showed such breadth of mind and keen sympathy with suffering as did Las Casas of the error only too prevalent at the time—that of believing that as long as an Indian’s soul was saved by the rite of baptism it did not much matter what happened to his body.