The Mayas, the Sources of Their History / Dr. Le Plongeon in Yucatan, His Account of Discoveries

by Stephen Salisbury

Besides my discovery of the statues, bas-reliefs, etc., etc., which would be worth many thousands of pounds sterling to—if the Mexican government did not rob them from—the discoverers, the study of the works of generations that have preceded us affords me the pleasure of following the tracks of the human mind through the long vista of ages to discover that its pretended progress and development are all imaginary, at least on earth. I have been unable to the present day to trace it. I really see no difference between the civilized man of today and the civilized man of five thousand years ago. I do not perceive that the human mind is endowed in our times with powers superior to those it possessed in ages gone by, but clearly discern that these powers are directed in different channels. Will Professor Mommsen pretend that this is also useless after being found? Man today is the same as man was when these monuments, which cause the wonder of the modern traveller, were reared. Is he not influenced by the same instincts, the same wants, the same aspirations, the same mental and physical diseases?

I consider mankind alike to the waters of the ocean; their surface is ever changing, while in their depths is the same eternal, unchangeable stillness and calm. So man superficially. He reflects the images of times and circumstances. His intellect develops and expands only according to the necessities of the moment and place. As the waves, he cannot pass the boundaries assigned to him by the unseen, impenetrable Power to which all things are subservient. He is irresistibly impulsed toward his inevitable goal—the grave. There, as far as he positively knows, all his powers are silenced. But from there also he sees springing new forms of life that have to fulfil, in their turn, their destiny in the great laboratory of creation. The exploration of the monuments of past generations, all bearing the peculiarities, the idiosyncracies of the builders, has convinced me that the energies of human mind and intellect are the same in all times. They come forth in proportion to the requirements of the part they are to represent in the great drama of life, the means in the stupendous mechanism of the universe being always perfectly and wisely adapted to the ends. It is therefore absurd to judge of mental attainments of man in different epochs and circumstances by comparison with our actual civilization. For me the teachings of archæology are these: “Tempora mutantur, mores etiam in illis; sicut ante homini etiam manent anima et mens.”

Alchemists have gone out of fashion, thank God! Would that the old sort of antiquaries, who lose their time, and cause others to lose theirs also, in discussing idle speculations, might follow suit. History requires facts,—these facts, proofs. These proofs are not to be found in the few works of the travellers that have hastily visited the monuments that strew the soil of Central America, Mexico and Peru, and given of them descriptions more or less accurate—very often erroneous—with appreciations always affected by their individual prejudices. The customs and attainments of all sorts of the nations that have lived on the western continent, before it was America, must be studied in view of the monuments they have left; or of the photographs, tracings of mural paintings, etc., etc., which are as good as the originals themselves. Not even the writings of the chroniclers of the time of the Spanish conquest can be implicitly relied upon. The writers on the one hand were in all cases blinded by their religious fanaticism; in many by their ignorance; on the other, the people who inhabited the country at the time of the arrival of the conquerors were not the builders of the ancient monuments. Many of these were then in ruins and looked upon by the inhabitants, as they are today, with respect and awe. True, many of the habits and customs of the ancients, to a certain extent, existed yet among them; but disfigured, distorted by time, and the new modes of thinking and living introduced by the invaders; while, strange to say, the language remained unaltered. Even today, in many places in Yucatan the descendants of the Spanish conquerors have forgotten the native tongue of their sires, and only speak Maya, the idiom of the vanquished. Traditions, religious rites, superstitious practices, dances, were handed down from generation to generation. But, as the sciences were of old the privilege of the few, the colleges and temples of learning having been destroyed at the downfall of Chichen, the knowledge was imparted by the fathers to their sons, under the seal of the utmost secrecy. Through the long vista of generations, notwithstanding the few books that existed at the time of the conquest, and were in great part destroyed by Bishop Landa and other fanatical monks, the learning of the H-Menes became adulterated in passing from mouth to mouth, merely committed to memory, and was at last lost and changed into the many ridiculous notions and strange practices said to have been consigned afterward to these writings.

Withal the knowledge of reading those books was retained by some of the descendants of the H-Menes. I would not take upon myself to assert positively that some of the inhabitants of Peten—the place where the Itzas took refuge at the beginning of the Christian era after the destruction of their city—are not still in possession of the secret. At all events, I was told that people who could read the Maya pic-huun (books), and to whom the deciphering of the Uooh (letters) and the figurative characters was known, existed as far back as forty years ago, but kept their knowledge a secret, lest they should be persecuted by the priests as wizards and their precious volume wrenched from them and destroyed. The Indians hold them yet in great veneration. I am ready to give full credit to this assertion, for during my rambles and explorations in Peru and Bolivia I was repeatedly informed that people existed ensconced in remote nooks of the Andes, who could interpret the quippus (string writing) and yet made use of them to register their family records, keep account of their droves of llamas and other property.

I will not speak here at length of the monuments of Peru, that during eight years I have diligently explored; for, with but few exceptions, they dwindle into insignificance when compared with the majestic structures reared by the Mayas, the Caras, or Carians, and other nations of Central America, and become, therefore, devoid of interest in point of architecture and antiquity; excepting, however, the ruins of Tiahuanaco, that were already ruins at the time of the foundation of the Incas’ empire, in the eleventh century of our era, and so old that the memory of the builders was lost in the abysm of time. The Indians used to say that these were the work of giants who lived before the sun shone in the heavens. It is well known that the Incas had no writing characters or hieroglyphics. The monuments raised by their hands do not afford any clew to their history. Dumb walls merely, their mutism leaves large scope to imagination, and one may conjecture any but the right thing. Of the historical records of that powerful but short-lived dynasty we have nothing left but the few imperfect and rotten quippus which are occasionally disinterred from the huacas.

If we desire to know anything about the civil laws and policy, the religious rites and ceremonies of the Incas, their scanty scientific attainments, and their very few and rude artistic attempts, we are obliged to recur to the “Comentarios reales” of Garcilasso de la Vega, to the Décadas of Herrera, to Zarata and other writers of the time of the conquest of Peru by Francisco Pizarro. None of them—Montesinos excepted—try to shed any light on the origin of Manco-Ceapac and that of his sister and wife, Mama-Oello, nor on the state of the country before their arrival at Cuzco.

I have been most happy in my researches into the history of this founder of the Inca dynasty, whom many consider a mere mythical being. In the library of the British Museum I came across an old Spanish manuscript, written by a Jesuit father, A. Anilla, under, as he asserts, the dictation of a certain Catári, an ex-quippucamayoe,—archive-keeper.

Writing now from memory, far away from my books, notes, plans, etc., etc., left for safe-keeping in the hands of a friend in Merida, I do not remember the number of the catalogue. But it is easy to look for “Las vidas de los hombres ilustres de la compania de Jesus en las Provincias del Peru,” where I have read of the origin of Manco-Ceapac, of his wanderings from the sea coasts to those of the lake of Titicaca, and hence through the country till at last he arrived at the village of Cuzco, where he was kindly received by the inhabitants and established himself. This MS. also speaks of the history of his ancestors, of their arrival at Tumbes after leaving their homes in the countries of the north in search of some lost relatives, of their slow progress toward the South, and the vain inquiries about their friends, etc., etc. Now that I have studied part of the history of the Mayas and become acquainted with their customs, as pictured in the mural paintings that adorn the walls of the inner room of the monument raised to the memory of Chac-Mool by the Queen of Itza, his wife, on the south end of the east wall of the gymnasium, at Chichen (the tracings of these paintings are in our power), and also in the traditions and customs of their descendants, by comparing them with those of the Quichuas, I cannot but believe that Manco’s ancestors emigrated from Xibalba or Mayapan, carrying with them the notions of the mother country, which they inculcated to their sons and grandsons, and introduced them among the tribes that submitted to their sway.

Let it be remembered that the Quichua was not the mother-tongue of the Incas, who in court spoke a language unknown to the common people. They, for political motives, and particularly to destroy the feuds that existed between the inhabitants of the different provinces of their vast dominions, ordered the Quichua to be taught to and learned by everybody, and to be regarded as the tongue of Ttahuantinsuyu. Their subjects, from however distant parts of the empire could then also understand each other, and came with time to consider themselves as members of the same family.

I have bestowed some attention upon the study of the Quichua. Not being acquainted with the dialects of the Aryan nations previous to their separation, I would not pretend to impugn the grand discovery of Mr. Lopez. But I can positively assert that expressions are not wanting in the Peruvian tongue that bear as strong a family resemblance to the dialects spoken in the Sandwich Islands and Tahiti, where I resided a few months, as the ruins of Tiahuanaco to those of Easter Island, that are composed of stones not to be found today in that place. When I visited it I was struck with the perfect similitude of the structures found there and the colossal statues, which forcibly recalled to my mind those said by Pinelo to have existed in Tiahuanaco even at the time of the Spanish conquest. This similarity in the buildings and language of the people separated by such obstacles as the deep water of the Pacific, hundreds of miles apart, cannot be attributed to a mere casual coincidence. To my mind it plainly shows that communications at some epoch or other have existed between these countries. On this particular point I have a theory of my own, which I think I can sustain by plausible facts, not speculative; but this is not the place to indulge in theories. I will, therefore, refrain from intruding mine on your readers. On the other hand, they are welcome to see it in the discourse I have pronounced before the American Geographical Society of New York in January, 1873, which has been published in the New York Tribune, lecture sheet No. 8.