But to return. That Palenque was standing at that time, or at any rate had not been long abandoned, is placed beyond a doubt by Jose Antonio Calderon,[95] in his letter dated 15th December, 1774, in which he mentions having discovered eighteen palaces, twenty great buildings, and a hundred and sixty-eight houses, in one week, clearly proving that the forest which has grown since over the structures had not assumed such vast proportions, and that some idea could still be formed of the city; and if such was the case at that date, are we not justified in our assumption that this city was standing and inhabited at the Conquest in 1520?

Before Calderon, Garcia in 1729 had already mentioned the ruins of Palenque, but unfortunately his work has not been found; and Juarros, in his account of Chiapas,[96] says: “There is no doubt that this region has been inhabited by a cultured and mighty nation, shown in the imposing piles of buildings at Culhuacan and Tollan, traces of which are noticeable near Ocosingo and Palenque.” Tollan (Palenque), Culhuacan (Ocosingo), bespeak that these names were still remembered by the Indians as late as the seventeenth century, that they owed their origin to the Toltecs, since the same appellations occur on the plateaux, and were carried by the emigrants to their later settlements in remembrance of their older ones—a constant practice among the Indians; and their wanderings from north to south were marked by cities and colonies having appellations which are found both on the plateaux and in Chiapas. The same thing happens now in every new colony, for which instances might be given ad infinitum.

Fray Tello tells us that the Spaniards found in Jalisco localities and cities whose names existed already in the Mexican Valley, such as Ameca, Culhuacan, Tequicistlan, Juchitan, etc.;[97] and Diaz, in his account of Rangre’s expedition, writes: “They set out to subdue the provinces of Cematan and Tulapan in the south.” Unfortunately the narrative stops at Cematan, and we have to be satisfied with the bare mention of Tulapan, which is, however, sufficient for our purpose.

Taking the palace as a starting-point, it may be said that the city is built in the form of an amphitheatre, on the lowest slopes of the lofty Cordillera beyond; its high position afforded a magnificent view over the forest-covered plain below stretching as far as the sea. Some travellers have fancied they saw the sea from the summits of the temples, but it is more likely to have been Catasaja lagoon, some ten leagues to the north, for it is doubtful if at this height (650 feet), the ocean is visible even on the clearest day. We find ourselves on the pyramid, we are in the palace, and my impressions, as a mature man, are very different to what they were seven-and-twenty years ago, when my appreciation of the structure was very indifferent, while now my admiration for this massive palace, these ruined temples, these pyramids, is profound, nay, almost overpowering. In all these structures, the builder levelled out the ground in narrow terraces, on which artificial elevations of pyramidal form were reared, which on the hillside were faced with hewn stones, and divided into storeys, as we have seen at Teotihuacan. I notice many changes since I was here before; portions of walls, the whole front of the Temple of the Cross (No. 1) have given way, and in the Lion’s Temple the fine bas-relief over the altar has disappeared. It is sad to calculate how much more havoc another fifty years will make; there will be nothing, probably, but a mass of mouldering ruins, such as are met with in the

OUR KITCHEN AT PALENQUE,
IN ONE OF THE CORRIDORS. woods, on the low hills, and the plain around.

Whilst our men are clearing the palace, we penetrate the thick forest through which some of our Indians open out a passage. We recognise the buildings that have been described, but throughout our progress we see nothing but heaps of unformed ruins. We take up our quarters in the palace itself; our kitchen and dining-room are in the outward gallery of the eastern entrance, whilst our sleeping apartments are in the eastern gallery of the inner wing. From our dining-room we look out on the forest, and our bedrooms open on the courtyard of the palace. Although Indians as a rule are apathetic, they are brisk and energetic enough with the machete, with which they open out a path so rapidly that one can walk after them a normal pace without stopping, and they fell enormous trees as easily as Europeans would shrubs.

We will begin with the palace, giving the plan of the north portion of the corridors and the tower; we can vouch for the accuracy of our plan, although it differs entirely from those which have been hitherto published.

The palace consisted of two distinct parts (this has not been understood by any of my predecessors, not even Waldeck); a double gallery ran along the east, north, and west sides, surrounding an inner structure, likewise with a double gallery and two courtyards of different dimensions; it was a kind of covered walk or cloister quite separate from the remaining edifice, which to the south must have constituted the dwelling proper. The entire pile of building was reared on the same platform, forming an irregular quadrilateral, and if we except the galleries, nothing seems to have been constructed systematically or on a given plan: the various parts are of different dimensions or different heights, and the courts enclosed within the galleries form trapezes instead of rectangles, one measuring 6 feet 7 inches more to the north than to the south, so that the structures are not parallel. To the south, which it is agreed to consider as forming the dwelling apartments, this confusion is more apparent and complete, for here they seem to have dispensed with any plan at all; buildings large and small reared on different levels are found, in juxtaposition, or at some distance from each other; the roof is sloping or perpendicular, the decorations copious or scanty according to the whim of the artist; some of the apartments, as compared to others, are underground and entered by gloomy steps which receive a dim light from the south side of the pyramid, here only a few feet from the ground.