This valley was sacred in early times. Cortez says he counted four hundred towers in the city of Cholula (a much larger city then than now), and no temple had more than two towers. Above the city loomed the great pyramid, on the summit of which stood a sumptuous temple in which was the image of the mystic deity, Quetzalcoatl. He had “ebon features, wearing a mitre on his head waving with plumes of fire, with a resplendent collar of gold around his neck, pendants of mosaic turquoise on his ears, a jewelled sceptre in one hand, and a shield curiously painted, the emblem of his rule over the winds, in the other.” This was the god who drew pilgrims and devotees by the thousands from the farthest corners of Anahuac.
This god was credited with power over rains, and was appealed to especially in time of drouth. Bandelier, who made an exhaustive study of this district, translates an early Spanish writer as follows: “To this god they prayed whenever they lacked water, and sacrificed to it children from six to ten years of age, whom they captured or bought for the purpose. When they sacrificed, they carried the children up the hill in procession, whither went some old men singing, and before the idol they cut the child open with a knife, taking out the heart, and they burnt incense to the idol and afterwards buried the baby there before the idol.” Thus it is seen that the Nahuatl tribe, who occupied this valley, pursued the same bloody rites as the Aztecs.
The first act of Cortez was to destroy this temple and erect a Christian church on the spot, so that spires and crosses have replaced the pagan towers. All over the valley are many great churches so conspicuous in comparison with the humble homes of the natives. The view from the summit of this ancient structure is grand and imposing. John L. Stoddard is inspired by this scene and speaks as follows: “Whatever else of Mexico may be forgotten, I shall remember to my latest breath that wonderfully impressive vision from Cholula. Before me rose, against the darkening sky, a mighty cross, the sculptured proof that here Christianity had proved victorious; and as I lingered, my feet upon the Aztec pyramid, my hand upon the symbol of the conqueror’s faith, my eyes turned towards that everlasting pinnacle of snow, I thought the lesson of Cholula to be this: that higher, grander, and far more enduring than all the different religions of humanity are the Eternal Power they imperfectly reveal; and that above the temples, pyramids, and crosses, which mark the blood-stained pathway of our race, rises a lofty mountain peak, whose glory falls alike upon the Aztec and the Spaniard, and in whose heaven-born radiance all races and all centuries may find their inspiration and their hope.”
The Valley of Oaxaca seems to have been the favourite dwelling place of one or more of the early races of Mexico. All over the vales that centre at Oaxaca, and on the surrounding hills, are ruins of former cities and palaces that strongly resemble in outline and decoration the works of the Ptolemies and Pharaohs. Next to Mitla, the most noted ruins in this valley are those of Monte Alban. The site of this ancient city is four miles from Oaxaca on the summit of a mountain, about eleven hundred feet above the valley. The ruins extend for a distance of more than a mile along the ridge, and enclose a great rectangular, depressed court nine hundred feet long, and three hundred feet in width. There are some well-preserved, sculptured stones with pictorial inscriptions, and images of gods. Because of its situation, which commands a complete view of these valleys in every direction, it is supposed that this place was intended for defence and a place of refuge in troublous times. The view from the summit is magnificent and well repays the traveller for a couple of hours’ ride on the back of that sadly-wise, and much-maligned animal—the Mexican mule.
The village of Mitla is situated about twenty-five miles southeast of Oaxaca. It is best visited from that city by coach or mules. We hired a coach and driver, an unprepossessing looking outfit, and started on the journey.
“How long will it take?” I asked the driver.
“A las doce,” he replied in idiomatic Spanish, meaning that we would arrive at twelve o’clock. As we had started at seven o’clock, that made it a five hours’ journey.
About an hour’s ride out of Oaxaca is the village of Tule, where, in the churchyard, and overshadowing the sacred structure, stands the famous Big Tree of Tule which deserves a passing notice. Although not a ruin, it is a relic of prehistoric days long gone by. This venerable giant is one of the largest trees in the world, exceeding in circumference the famous redwoods of California, and equalling the largest reported specimens of the gigantic baobab of Africa. This great tree is one hundred and fifty-four feet in circumference six feet above the ground. Twenty-eight people with their hands outstretched, and touching their finger tips, can just encircle its great girth. The height is one hundred and sixty feet, and the spread of the branches one hundred and forty feet. It is a species of the cypress called by the Aztecs ahuehuete. The great traveller, Humboldt, visited this tree about the middle of the last century and affixed a tablet containing his name and an inscription. As a proof that this old cypress is still growing, one sees that this tablet is now almost grown over with bark nearly a foot thick. Tule is a quaint village where the thatched huts are enclosed by fences of the prickly cactus, called organo, because of the resemblance of its branches to the pipes of an organ, and the lanes are shaded by trees. Underneath the higher trees grow the orange and lemon, while the oleander and other flowering bushes add their brightness to the scene.
After being held up for a road charge of seven cents by the officials of the village, which we paid, the driver is allowed to proceed. We pass through villages with the poetical names of Tlacolulu and Tlacochahuaya. As the coach bounces along the rough highway, over the road on a hillside are seen caves where human beings live who are literally cliff-dwellers. Then the valley opens up, and far ahead is seen San Pablo Mitla a typical Indian village built around the hacienda of Don Felix Quero, who is a sort of feudal lord over the neighbouring peons. Good entertainment is furnished for the traveller, and it is delightful to rest within the high walls of this hospitable stopping-place.
The first mention of the ruins at this village is by a Spanish writer nearly four centuries ago. His description would not be much amiss to-day. It is as follows: “We passed through a pueblo which is called Mictlan, signifying ‘hell’ in the native tongue, where were found some edifices more worth seeing than anything else in New Spain. Among them was a temple of the demon, and the dwelling of its attendants—very sightly, particularly one hall made of something like lattice work. The fabric was of stone, with many figures and shapes; it had many doorways, each one built of three great stones, two at the sides and one at the top, all very thick and wide. In these quarters there was another hall containing round pillars, each one of a single piece, and so thick that two men could barely embrace them; their height might be five fathoms.”