Torquemada calls him the god of paradise and great delights; that his statue on the highest mountain of Texcuco represented a man seated on a square slab, having at the back a huge stone jar, into which ulli, maize, beans, and other vegetables were placed by the devotees, and that this offering was renewed every year. Ixtlilxochitl mentions, inter alia, that five or six young children were yearly sacrificed to this deity, their hearts torn out, and their bodies buried; and we read in Father Duran that Montezuma and the allied princes repaired on the hill on which a child seven or eight years old was sacrificed. This festival was
VASES OF BURIAL-GROUND UNEARTHED AT NAHUALAC. celebrated in the month of April, when the maize was above the ground. The next quotation from Torquemada is by far the most interesting, for it mentions Popocatepetl and the surrounding hills where we are carrying on our explorations:
“Indians entertained a great respect for this mountain, whose climate was mild, and the abundance of whose waters made the land around unusually fertile, and here children and slaves were slain in honour of Tlaloc. To the south is another mighty hill, Teocuinani, ‘the Divine Singer,’ so called by the natives because whenever the clouds shroud its summit the volcano bursts forth in flashes of lightning and claps of thunder, spreading terror among the whole population, who hasten to the hill to offer men, incense, paper-crowns, feathers, plates, urns, goblets, cups, toys, and vases” (exactly what we have found). “Close by was a well-constructed house, Ayauchcalli, ‘house of rest,’ in which stood an idol of green stone, chalchihuitl, about the size of a child eight years old. On the arrival of the Spaniards this idol was carried away and buried in the mountains by the Indians, together with numerous objects of gold, silver, and precious stones.”[82]
We have often seen clouds collected around the top of Teocuinani (El Fraile), and many a time have we heard the dread voice of the Divine Singer; if our Tenenepanco cemetery is not the one spoken of by Father Duran, it is assuredly its nearest neighbour, and we are convinced that this site was once sacred to Tlaloc, consequently ancient, and that besides the victims sacrificed, both men and women were buried here as in consecrated ground, with their utensils, arms, and ornaments.
The foregoing quotations prove, moreover, that the surrounding mountains contain several funeral stations, which might be profitably explored; Mount Tlaloc alone would enrich the most greedy. As for us, we are satisfied with having discovered two and opened the way to others; and when we add that our excavations yielded three hundred and seventy pieces, our self-satisfaction will not appear out of place. The greatest care was taken in packing our treasure in four large huacales, “cases,” and the freight reached safely Amecameca and Mexico, where the Government confiscated it.
In our two years’ explorations the Mexican Museum had deducted a third from the best of our finds; now they illegally detained the whole, refusing to give up any part of it. Let future explorers do their work quietly, offering nothing to the Republic, which might adopt, as in our case, a singular mode of testifying its gratitude.
The next day after our return to the village, we set out for the Mispayantla grottoes, accompanied by a guide and three Indians provided with tools. These grottoes are situated in the barranca known as Mispayantla, at once the most picturesque and the most important in the Mexican Valley, extending from El Fraile to the east and west as far as the Amecan Valley. From rocks rising perpendicularly to some six hundred and nine hundred feet, the eye travels down into its depths, where the course of the river is lost in a glowing wilderness of vegetation. The road was so bad and unsafe that we got off our horses and walked up to the grottoes, where a great disappointment awaited us, for they are nothing but pent-houses, produced by the projecting rock; holes and notches, moreover, plainly testified that we had been preceded long since by other seekers. Broken skulls and bones, of no interest whatever, lay scattered about. We picked up, however, saucepan handles of every size, red earthen vases striped with black, a much injured idol of Tlaloc, a bit of an Indian flute. This had been, no doubt, a funeral station completely rifled. We came away with feelings the reverse of pleasant.
We were not more successful in attempting a teocalli in the heart of Amecameca, than we had been at Mispayantla; remembering, however, that cemeteries abounded in the mountains, I flattered myself I should find one towards Iztaccihuatl. “Tepalcates,” potteries, I had been told, were to be met in various places, but small had been the result on my visiting the sites indicated. From inquiries and the promise of a good reward, I got an Indian to act as guide to Iztaccihuatl, which he knows well, having often been there for the same purpose as ourselves; a few preliminaries are soon settled, and taking some half-dozen men with me, we set out on our mountain expedition. The ascent is performed with great difficulty, for we are just in for the rainy season, and the path is simply abominable. Our horses slip, rear, fall, and we frequently risk breaking our necks; the mule, laden with our instruments and luggage, refuses to move until he is relieved of half his burden.
Leaving Amecameca, we follow a very steep path overlooking frightful precipices, and reach the summit after a forced march of six hours. From this point may be seen the valley, some 3,900 feet long by 1,625 to 1,950 feet broad, bounded by the mountain range which to the west of Mexico makes it impassable. To the east are the peaks of Iztaccihuatl, covered with virgin snow, 650 feet below us; on the crest the barometer marks 12,512 feet, and 12,318 in the valley, that is as near as possible the altitude of Tlamacas.