In honor of the approaching end of the 13th baktun on December 21, per the famous Mayan calendar, I’d like to write about a piece of ironclad historical evidence contradicting the “Mayan doomsday” nonsense. That particular piece of evidence lies in the ruins of Xultun.
Xultun was once a flourishing Mayan metropolis, and its importance continues to the present day as the site of a series of murals of great significance to clearing up an archaic misunderstanding of the great calendar. More specifically, painted on the walls in a house that appears to have been a workshop for scribes and astronomers, is a series of complex astronomical tables extending well past the end of 2012. In other words, the Mayan astronomers of the ninth century C.E. most certainly didn’t think the world would end when the thirteenth baktun did, but instead carried on with their work charting planetary and stellar activities well beyond the supposed end of the world. “So much for the supposed end of the world,” quips William Saturno, one of the present-day (re) discoverers of these scientific calculations.
Another of Saturno’s comments sums up the contrast between Western pop culture’s misconceptions and Mayan thought nicely, in my opinion — “We keep looking for endings… the Maya were looking for a guarantee that nothing would change. It’s an entirely different mindset.” (National Geographic, 5/10/2012)
After the above excerpts, you might be interested in getting a look at Xultun and these murals for yourself. If so, you’re in luck!
If you click HERE, you can view National Geographic’s “Giga Pan” high resolution photographs of some of the murals.
If you’d like to explore the beautiful stone stelae (carvings) that dot the city, you can click HERE to visit the Peabody Museum of Archaeology and Ethnology at Harvard’s website cataloguing a bit of the site’s history, its carvings, and their locations around the town. (The diagrams of the carvings are in the list on the lefthand side of the page.)
Finally, National Geographic has also prepared a short video on the discoveries at Xultun for your viewing pleasure, which you can view HERE if you have trouble viewing the embedded version below.
A quick post today to follow up on my last one. I was digging through a disc of photos my father took while we were visiting Salem, and it turns out he also snagged a shot of the conquistador’s helmet. He had a proper DSLR camera with him and was able to get a larger, higher resolution photo of the helm, so I’m posting it too so you can get a more detailed look. As always, click to view the image in its full size.
Earlier this month I visited the Peabody Essex Museum in Salem, MA and spotted a surprising object in their collection. Amidst the lovely array of East Asian artwork (better than the MFA’s holdings in Boston proper, in my opinion), nautical paintings and artifacts, and other marvels, sitting unobtrusively on a shelf in their gallery devoted to curios collected by local sailors from around the world, sits a conquistador’s helmet. I snapped a couple of photos to share with you all (please excuse the quality, I wasn’t planning on doing any photography and flashes were forbidden in the museum to boot). Click to view the photos full size.
First, a shot of the whole helmet on its shelf.
Next, a close-up of the antique paper label pasted on the helm by a museum curator (presumably) a long time ago. Judging by the paper, ink, and handwriting style, I’m guessing it was attached to the artifact sometime in the 19th century. The label reads “An Ancient Spanish H[elmet] found in Mexico, and probably [worn?] by some of the followers of Cortez.”
In honor of back to school season in my part of the world, I’d like to share some notes on Aztec education, as well as a link to an article on the rediscovery and initial excavation of the calmecac in modern-day Mexico City. In case you’re not familiar with the calmecac, it’s one of two schooling institutions created by the Aztecs to educate their children. Dibble and Anderson translate the name “Priests’ House” or “House of Penance,” for reasons that will become clear below. The telpochcalli, or “Young Men’s House,” could be described roughly as a cross between a military and trade school, in Western/European terms. It’s the school primarily populated by the non-aristocratic children, where they would be trained in combat and economic matters more typical of their station.
In contrast, the calmecac is more akin to a seminary, elite prep school, and college rolled together. Primarily attended by the offspring of the noble class, it’s reported that certain common-born children of especial talent were allowed to go as well, despite their lineage. Here the children would learn basic priestly training, military skills, the arts, etiquette, and leadership. While we have records of these two schools existing within the walls of Tenochtitlan, it wasn’t until 2007 that archaeologists had uncovered the remains of any part of these two educational complexes. If you would like to read an article in the Christian Science Monitor reporting on this discovery, please click HERE. (It includes a photograph of one of the ornaments that once decorated the roof of this indigenous American university — the cross section of a twisting shell, named the “wind jewel,” a symbol of Quetzalcoatl the Plumed Serpent, lord of learning.)
Unlike many other cultures past (and present, sadly), the Mexica-Tenochca were quite progressive with regards to education. They sought to put most children though one of the two schools described above, making them among the earliest proponents of universal education. Even more exemplary was the fact that that this education extended to girls as well as boys! No child left behind? The Aztecs had it covered.
While there were differences in which form of education a child would receive, heavily influenced by social standing as noted above, it appears there was some flexibility according to the parent’s wishes, according to Sahagun’s informants in the Florentine Codex (Book 6, Chapter 39, p. 209, Dibble & Anderson trans.). When the parents had chosen which educational path their child would take, a celebration was hosted. If the child would go to the telpochcalli, the schoolmasters would be invited over for food and drink, the exchange of gifts, and to meet their future pupil. Then they would cradle the child in their arms and swear to guide the child until he or she was ready to leave their school, take a spouse, and establish their own household. (Dibble & Anderson, Book 6, p.209). Tezcatlipoca was invoked as the patron of this child’s educational career. (Dibble & Anderson, Book 6, p.210)
If the parents chose to send the child to the calmecac, a celebration was still held, but instead the class of priests called quaquacuiltin were invited to the house. Once again, they were feasted and presented with gifts, and the priests held the child and dedicated her or him to Quetzalcoatl, and promise that the child will carry out his/her responsibilities as a religious novitiate and seek the god’s knowledge. They closed their oration with a plea for the Feathered Serpent’s blessing and consent for these educational gifts. (Dibble & Anderson, Book 6, p.210)
Sahagun records that a girl dedicated to the calmecac received a distinctive scarification mark on her hips and chest at this time, and was also given a special necklace marking her as destined for a religious education, the yaqualli pendant. (Dibble & Anderson, Book 6, p.210) He doesn’t note what marks and accoutrements the boys were given.
After this initial encounter with their future educators, whether the martial headmasters of the telpochcalli or the religious experts of the calmecac, the child stayed with their parents for another few years until they were deemed old enough to attend the school they had been promised to. After that, they were sent to live at the schools until they completed their education and struck out on their own adult lives.
Sahagún, Bernardino , Arthur J. O. Anderson, and Charles E. Dibble. General History of the Things of New Spain: Florentine Codex. Santa Fe, N.M: School of American Research, 1950-1982, Book VI, pp.209-211.
Funny how things tend to come in clusters. One day I find the full text of Soustelle’s The Daily Life of the Aztecs, today I find a complete English translation of the Anonymous Conqueror’s Narrative of Some Things of New Spain and of the Great City of Temestitan, México. (In case you’re wondering, Temestitan is an old Spanish corruption of Tenochtitlan.)
This is one of the more obscure Conquest-era histories, allegedly written by one of the Conquistadores under Cortes. We’ve never definitively identified who the author was, but the book seems to be generally accepted as a genuinely early document. The book is an account of the Conquest itself and a concise overview of life in Tenochtitlan at the time, from a recently-arrived European perspective. As usual, such works have to be read carefully, with an awareness of problems of reliability, bias, and cultural misunderstandings/ignorance. With those caveats aside, however, early material like this can still be quite useful.
Go HERE to read Marshall H. Saville’s 1917 English translation of the Anonymous Conqueror’s Narrative of Some Things of New Spain and of the Great City of Temestitan, México, edited by Alec Christensen and kindly hosted on FAMSI.
I have also updated the First Contact & Conquest Era History page on this site with a permanent link to this work.
Now, if you will excuse me, I’m going to go crash before I face-plant on my keyboard, as I’ve been awake for almost 24 hours straight now, 13 of which were spent at work… Just had to share this random discovery before catching some sleep.
I was doing some digging online today, and had quite a stroke of good luck — I found a complete copy of Jacques Soustelle’s classic The Daily Life of the Aztecs online! The English edition of the entire book is available to read for free on Questia. Soustelle was a famous French anthropologist who specialized in studying the Aztecs before the Conquest, one of the bright lights in Mesoamerican studies of the mid 20th Century. His Daily Life of the Aztecs is one of his best-known works on this subject, covering a wide variety of details of Mexica life in great Tenochtitlan, ranging from architecture to agriculture, religion, economics, and the conduct of war. Though somewhat dated (written in 1962), most of the information in this book still remains quite useful, and his respectful, non-sensationalistic tone is refreshing. As it predates the rediscovery of the Templo Mayor (Huey Teocalli) in the 1970’s, it sadly doesn’t include much on that famous structure. Still, I strongly recommend giving it a read, as it remains one of the better general histories and anthropological overviews of life in Precolumbian Mexico.
Incidentally, I have now activated the Pre-Conquest History page in the History section of this blog’s static pages and placed an additional permanent link to this book there.
Wow, it’s been a while. Sorry about that. The stuff I’ve been trying to write about kinda pulled a Three Stooges with a narrow door type thing, which was not helped by adding a dash of summer laziness.
Anyway, I’ve had some amazing strokes of luck lately in expanding my library. I’ve acquired a copy of the Bancroft Dialogues, a tough to find Post-Conquest Era volume of Mexica upper class speeches, greetings, and other daily life bits of talking. It’s a significant text because it’s the only early book that has full marks indicating pronunciation, so anyone who wants to learn Classical Nahuatl needs this one. It’s also interesting because it shows how the nobles spoke to their equals and superiors. As the relationship between the Aztecs and their gods was often framed as a noble/subject relationship, I believe the examples likely hint at how they spoke to the Teteo when offering worship. I’m looking for some nice examples to post that people might find interesting.
Another major acquisition has been a copy of the deluxe four-volume Anawalt & Burdan edition of The Codex Mendoza for a stupidly good price. It’s a lovely piece of printing that makes this bibliophile get excited in unhealthy ways. Bound in three quarters Morocco leather, HUGE format, and printed crisply on good alkaline paper, it’s physically well-made. And the info is delightful. There’s a full-color facsimile, a black and white facsimile with parallel text translating the Spanish commentary, and two volumes of essays about the codex and its contents. Very nice! There’s an essay on the honorific warrior uniforms that was particularly interesting and will likely provoke a post at some point. It also gave me a lot of tips on how to spot priests in the codices based on dress and body/face paint.
Lastly, the same gentleman who sold me his copy of the Mendoza just agreed to part with his Dibble & Anderson edition of the Florentine Codex to boot, for a price I never thought I’d see on that set.
The upshot of all this frenzied book-greed for my readers? If you have questions that relate to stuff that’s covered by these texts, I may be able to help. My time’s limited, but so long as it’s reasonable I can try to look something up for you.