This is a pleasant town, having a fine square, neatly laid out, with much regularity, and well built. While we were at breakfast, seated on a long wooden bench (the usual table of the Casa-real) saddle-wise, with our customary company, ten to twenty Indians squatted (after their manner) about us, we were waited upon by the curious of the place. They wished to know who we were, and where we were going? To which we gave satisfactory answers. They offered us their best services, as usual, and left us. Soon after they left, the curate called, and was so kind as to offer us his house, and all the appurtenances thereto appertaining, of which, however, owing to our limited stay, I did not think it worth my while to accept. Knowing that I wished to see all that was interesting in his curacy, he, the dear soul, carried me a league, through a burning sun, to see what he called “las ruinas.” I walked to them cheerfully enough, for I anticipated something of an exciting nature. On reaching them, they proved to be merely the walls of a badly built house, which had pertained to a hacienda, and which was not over fifty years of age. When he first called my attention to them, I thought he was playing off a practical joke; but it was not so; it was a sincere desire to please. Short-sighted mortal! his day-dreams had never been disturbed by a knowledge of the pyramids, palaces, and castles of Chi-Chen! By a visit to the convent, however, on my return, I was fully indemnified for all my disappointment, by the good things which appear always to concentrate in these places; and I soon forgot our fatiguing walk to “las ruinas,” by a swing in the hammock.
While I was here enjoying myself, during the heat of the day, an Indian brought in a bundle, containing a shroud, intended for some deceased person. The curate apologized; ordered his robes, in which he was soon enveloped; had a candle lighted, to which was affixed a silver cross; gave it to me to hold; took his book, and read over a benediction, occasionally sprinkling water upon the cloth intended for the dead. This was done in an off-hand style, and the Indian was quickly dismissed.
It was with some difficulty that I was enabled to tear myself away from my kind host; and it was late before we started for Cantamayec, four leagues distant, where we intended to sleep. Before sundown, however, we bade him adieu, and passing over a rocky path through the woods, we arrived at our stopping-place at nine o’clock.
Little had we anticipated the cool reception we were doomed to meet, or we should have remained with our reverend friend of Sotuta. On reaching the Casa-real of this most miserable town, we found it occupied by half-breeds and Indians, making themselves merry and drunk, upon the occasion offered them by some one of the innumerable feast-days with which their calendar is crowded. The prospect for us, we observed on dismounting, was not very flattering. We stated to them that we were travellers; and wished a privilege with them at the Casa-real for the night, and at the same time offered them money, to remunerate them for their aid in procuring food for ourselves and horses; but we could obtain nothing. Their reply was, that the Casa-real and its yards were full, and that there was no food or water to be had. This was bringing affairs to a crisis. The prospect was that we were to “hang out” during the night. Remonstrance was thought of; but experience had long since taught me that remonstrance with these people was vain. A man in the crowd was observed with trousers on; and with him I thought something might be done, but I was made to perceive that trousers are only the uniform, but not an evidence of civilization. A squally night was before me, and no prospect of a shelter. I thought of trying “the plenipo”—à la Stephens—but my starred and striped blanket was in tatters, and I had no “half dollars.” Sunken as I was in the abyss of trouble, my magical coat never occurred to me. At a complete loss what to do, we walked about the town, in anticipation of some favorable accident, followed by a concourse of idle Indians. We were about returning to our horses in despair, when, passing a hut, with its only door half opened, we saw an old woman lying in her hammock, sick. I thought of the “medico.” With this ray of hope to encourage me, I entered, blessing the house and its inmates, with the best Latin I could muster. A dim light was burning in a calabash, which stood in the corner. In the centre of the room were some half-extinguished embers, with the few cooking utensils which the cuisine of this country require, being near them. A girl was engaged in making some cooling drink for the invalid; and, upon the whole, I felt that my prospects were looking up. So I drew up a stool to the side of the hammock, and looked the “medico” at the invalid, to the best of my abilities. The Indians from without were collecting around; I talked in a very deliberate tone, as if just bursting with a plethora of science, felt the pulse, and examined the tongue! At this stage of proceedings, an Indian bent down to my ear, and asked, in a low voice, if he should go for food for our horses? I graciously consented. I showed my pocket compass, the nearest approach to a surgical instrument of any thing I had about me, made a few more learned remarks upon the pathogenetic and therapeutic properties of matter, and advised the patient to bathe her feet and hold her tongue.
The fire upon the floor was rekindled; eggs and tortillas were soon placed before us, and I venture to say, that no catechumen in medicine ever received his first professional fee with more delight, than I did mine on this occasion. The patient declared herself to be much better. So was I. I soon began to feel myself “at home.” José made ready our hammocks, drove the intruding Indians out of the house, and, in a few moments, we buried all our cares and troubles in deep and undisturbed slumbers.
Awaking early in the morning, I found the patient much improved, if I might be permitted to judge from her nasal achievements; and, thinking it would be a pity to disturb her, I determined not to wait for any farther fee, but directed José silently to fold our hammocks, and putting them under our arms, we left the premises, and made our way to where our horses were quartered. Every thing being ready, we were soon in the saddle, and, without much regret, left the town; but not without a sincere wish that the patient, whose comfort had been so unexpectedly identified with mine, might rapidly recover.
We were now on the road to Teabo, a distance of about seven leagues, where we arrived at two o’clock in the afternoon. We experienced no little difficulty in finding the town, owing to the numerous paths that presented themselves leading to the haciendas and ranchos in the vicinity, and owing to the town being almost buried among the small trees and bushes by which it was surrounded. Our confusion was ten times more confounded by the directions of the Indians; and, finally, we were obliged to have recourse to the pocket-compass. This is an article with which every tourist in untravelled countries should provide himself. He will find it an invaluable guide when he is alone; and it will prove as efficacious as one ghost, at least, in controlling the services of these superstitious people.
The Casa-real being occupied by muleteers, I got permission of the polite owner of a store near by to deposite our trappings, and to make my toilet in one corner of his establishment. For this purpose a heap of corn was removed, which so facilitated my preparations, that I was soon in a condition to pay my respects to the town. After I had made some examination of it, however, I concluded that, my time had been wasted. It was, like all the others, as dull and inanimate as the rocks upon which it stood. As I had always discovered, if there were any thing of interest in these places, it radiated from the curate, I bent my steps, in the evening, towards his house. He was a fatherly-looking old gentleman, received me very kindly, ordered the best room in the convent to be made ready for my reception, and a good supper to be prepared. He talked much of his curacy, and seemed to be devoted to the people, as they evidently were to him. Good order was observable about his house, which is rarely to be met with in the like places. He showed me his library, which was composed of about twenty volumes of Latin and Spanish books. After passing a very pleasant evening with this good old man, I bade him adieu and retired to my room, which was decorated, or furnished rather, on all sides, with the symbols of the church, such as crosses, sculls, images, &c.; but which did not, so far as I could discover, materially affect my repose during the night.
Early in the morning, after taking chocolate, which my kind host had provided, we were mounted and on our way to Ticul. We passed through a number of small towns, one of which was Mani, about three leagues from Teabo, and formerly the capital of the province. The only fact connected with the history of this place, of interest to the traveller, is one of a character kindred to that which has given an infamous immortality to the Calif Omar, and, in later days, to Cardinal Ximenes; a man who lived in an age, and professed a religion, which should have taught him better. This was the place, as I learned while at Merida, where the ancient history of the Maya people was destroyed, by order of a Franciscan monk named Landa. These books were thought by the inquisitor to contain some heretical matters; and, with a bigotry and stupidity which we can now hardly allude to in terms sufficiently moderate to be printed, he directed those books to be taken out and burnt in the public square. This history was written in hieroglyphical characters, and its destruction has doubtless deprived posterity of the key to the whole history of the Maya nation.
We arrived at Ticul after a fatiguing ride, under a hot sun, at half past two o’clock in the afternoon, on Saturday, the 19th of February. Our coming was anticipated, and good apartments were prepared for us in the convent, where we were comfortably accommodated, and fully resolved to remain until we had become thoroughly recruited. José was about worn out, and the horses’ feet were in a sad condition. My trousers were torn, my boots were cut up, and my altogether ruinous condition was more in sympathy with the country which I was visiting, than accorded with my taste or my comfort. In this condition, I thought it would be no more than an act of prudence to lie by for a few days to repair damages. I amused myself meantime in strolling about the town, which I found decidedly pleasant. It had a life and activity about it that I had not before seen for a long time. I saw the sun set this evening behind the Cordilleras; it was a beautiful and imposing sight.