The Mythology of All Races, Vol. 11: Latin-American

by Hartley Burr Alexander

Thus, in shadowy fashion, the cycles of Andean civilization are restored. There are two great regions, the highland and the littoral, Inca and Yunca, each with a long history. The primitive fisher-families of the coast gave way to a civilization which may have received its impetus, as traditions indicate, from tribes sailing southward in great balsas; at any rate it had developed, doubtless before the Christian era, important and characteristic culture centres—Truxillo in the north, Nasca to the south—and great shrines, Pachacamac and Rimac, venerable to the Incas; while long after its own acme, and long before the Inca conquest, the coastal civilization had had important commerce with the ancient culture of the highlands. The origin of the pre-Inca empire from the Megalithic culture of Tiahuanaco leads back toward the middle of the first millenium b. c., perhaps to dimly remote centuries. It passed its floruit, marked by the rise of Cuzco as a great capital, and then followed barbarian migrations and wars; the retirement of a defeated handful to Tampu-Tocco; a long period of decline; and finally, about the beginning of the thirteenth century, a renaissance of culture, marked by a religious reform amounting to a new dispensation and stamping the revived power as essentially ecclesiastical in its claims,—for all Inca conquests were undertaken with a Crusader's plea for the expansion of the faith in the beneficent Sun and for the spread of knowledge of the Way of Life revealed through his children, the Inca.

It is impossible not to be struck with the resemblance between the development of this civilization and that of Europe during the same period. Cuzco and Rome rise to empire simultaneously; the ancient civilizations of Tiahuanaco, Nasca, and Truxillo, excelling the new power in art, but inferior in power of organization and engineering works, are the American equivalents of Greece and the Orient. Almost synchronously, Rome and Cuzco fall before barbarian invasions; and in each case centuries follow which can only be known as dark, during which the empire breaks in chaos. Finally, both civilizations rise, again during the same period, as leaders in a new movement in religion, animated by a crusading zeal and basing their authority upon divine will. It is true that Rome does not attain the material power that was restored to Cuzco, but Christendom, at least, does attain this power. Such is the picture,—though it must be added that in the present state of knowledge it is plausible restoration only, not proven truth.

II. THE YUNCA PANTHEONS

It is not possible to reconstruct in any detail the religions and mythologies of the pre-Inca civilizations of the central Andes, but of the four culture centres which have been most studied some traits are decipherable. Two of these centres are montane, two coastal. Of the former, the Megalithic highland civilization, whose first home is supposed to have been the region of Lake Titicaca, is assuredly ancient; the civilization of the Calchaqui, to the south of this, was a late conquest of the Incas and was doubtless a contemporary of Inca culture. On the coast, the Yunca developed in two branches, both, apparently, as ancient as the Megalithic culture, and both, again, late conquests of the Incas. To the north, extending from Tumbez to Paramount, with Chimu (Truxillo) as its capital, was the realm of the Grand Chimu—a veritable empire, for it comprised some twenty coastal valleys—while the twelve adjoining southern valleys, from Chancay to Nasca, were the seat of the Chincha Confederacy, a loose political organization with a characteristic culture of its own, though clearly akin to that of the Chimu region. All these centres having fallen under the sway of conquerors with a creed to impose (the Incas even erected a shrine to the Sun on the terraces of oracular Pachacamac), their religious traditions were waning in importance in the time of the conquistadores, who, unhappily, secured little of the lore that might have been salved in their own day. There are fragments for the Chimu region in Balboa and Calancha, for the Chincha in Arriaga and Avila; but in the main it is upon the monuments—vases, burials, ruins of temples—that, in any effort to define the beliefs of these departed peoples, we must depend for a supplementation of the meagre notices recorded in Inca tradition or preserved by the early chroniclers.[129]

Fortunately these monuments permit of some interesting guesses which, surely, are no unjustified indulgence of human curiosity when the mute expression of dead souls is their matter; and in particular the wonderful drawings of the Truxillo and Nasca vases and the woven figures of their fabrics suggest analogical interpretation. Despite their family likeness, the styles of the two regions are distinct; and, as the investigations of Uhle show, they have undergone long and changing developments, with apogees well in the past. The zenith of Chimu art was marked by a variety and naturalism of design rivaled, if at all in America, only by the best Maya achievements; while Chincha expression realized its acme in polychrome designs truly marvellous in complexity of convention. That the art of both regions is profoundly mythological is obvious from the portrayals.

Striking features of this Yunca art are the monster-forms[130]—man-bird, man-beast, man-fish, man-reptile—and, again, the multiplication of faces or masks, both of men and of animals. The repetition of the human countenance is especially frequent in the art of Nasca, where series of masks are often enchained in complex designs, one most grotesque form of this concatenation representing a series of masks issuing, as it were, from the successive mouths, and joined by the protruding tongues. Again, there are dragon-like or serpentine monsters having a head at each extremity, recalling not only the two-headed serpent of Aztec and Maya art, but also the Sisiutl of the North-West Coast of North America—a region whose art, also, furnishes an impressive analogue, in complexity of convention, to that of the Yunca. Frequently, in Nasca art, the fundamental design is a man-headed bird, or fish, or serpent, whose body and accoutrements are complexly adorned with representations of the heads or forms of other animals—the puma, for example, or even the mouse. Oftentimes heads, apparently decapitations, are borne in the hands of the central figure; and on one Truxillo vase there is a depiction[131] of what is surely a ceremonial dance in which the participants are masked and disguised as birds and animals; the remarkable Nasca robes in the Boston Museum of Fine Arts (see Plates [XXXI], [XXXII], [XXXIII], [XXXIV]) also suggest masked forms, the representations of the same personage varying in colour and in the arrangement of facial design.

PLATE XXXII.

Polychrome vase from the Nasca valley, showing the multi-headed deity represented also by Plate [XXXI]. The succession of masks connected by protruded tongues is a striking form of Nasca design. Examples are found elsewhere, even into Calchaqui territory. The vase here pictured is in the American Museum of Natural History.

The heads which are held in the hands and which adorn the costumes of these figures are regarded by some authorities as trophy heads, remotely related, perhaps, to those which are prepared as tokens of prowess by some of the Brazilian tribes; and, in fact, the discovery of the decapitated mummies of women and girls, buried in the guano deposits of the sacred islands of Guañape and Macabi, points to a remote period when human sacrifices were made, perhaps to a marine power, and certainly connected with some superstition as to the head. Another suggestion, however, will account for a greater variety of the forms. The dances with animal masks irresistibly recall the ancestral and totemic masked dances of such peoples as the Pueblo Indians of North America and of the tribes of the North-West Coast; the figures of bird-men, fish-men, and snake-men, with their bodies ornamented with other animal figures, are again reminiscent of the totemic emblems of the far North-West; and surely no image is better adapted to suggest the descent of a series of generations from an ancestral hero than the sequence of tongue-joined masks figured on the Nasca vases, each generation receiving its name, as it were, from the mouth of the preceding. The recurrence of certain constant designs, both on vases and in fabrics, is at least analogous to the use of totemic signs on garments and utensils in the region of the North-West Coast.