David Iguaz
“Life and death are not worlds of opposition, we are one single stalk with twin flowers”
(Octavio Paz 1979)
Death in ancient Aztec Mexico formed an integral part of daily life and was considered just a further stage in the continuation of life towards the individual’s final resting place. Death was to be found everywhere in the form of sacrificial rites, religious rituals, mourning celebrations and funerary festivities. Therefore it comes as no surprise to us that so much attention was paid to the whole idea of death and the implications involved with it. The present paper will deal with one particular aspect of the so-called ‘death cult’ among the Aztecs, which concerns the disposal of the dead and the supernatural and cosmological ideology behind it. The latter aspect is best represented by the extensive ethnohistorical evidence provided by the written and pictorial sources dating to before and after the conquest of the New World. Although the physical disposal of the dead is widely depicted in the ethnohistorical sources and particularly those represented by the Mexican pictorial manuscripts, I will seek at least partial corroboration of this evidence by comparing it with the existing archaeological record.
The use of writing techniques, together with the associated practice of hieroglyphic writing, picture painting and symbol depiction is a characteristic and distinctive trait particular to the ancient cultures of Mesoamerica.
Aztec, Maya, Mixtec and various local and regional cultures were particularly concerned with representing and depicting multiple aspects of their daily life, such as traditional and ancestral customs, rites, feasts, calendrical observations, historical events, socio-political and religious life, economy, genealogical and dynastic themes, etc. They found an acceptable medium for displaying all this information in a visual and expressive manner through the use of the codices.
Since the 19th century, historians, archaeologists and Mesoamerican scholars have used the word ‘codex’ or the equivalent Spanish term ‘códice’ to designate any pictorial manuscript in the native tradition (Glass 1975: 7-8). Some, have mistakenly ascribed such a term to written manuscripts with no pictorial character or content whatsoever.
However, we owe to John B. Glass a good definitive description for the usage of the word ‘codex’. “The foremost criteria are that the paintings, drawings, or manuscripts, display traits of pictorial content, style, composition, or formal symbolic conventions derived from indigenous traditions” (Glass 1975: 4). Hence this definition also includes those pictorial books dealing with indigenous lifestyle produced and manufactured by Spanish officials and friars in the colonial period.
The format of the various surviving codices varies greatly and ranges from a canvas type made from cloth to the typical prehispanic screen-folded pattern. The raw materials consisted mainly of bark paper from the fig tree, but also of cloth or animal hide, mainly that of deer. The panels of bark paper were then “glued together to form long strips, then folded screen fold style and painted with ritual or calendrical images” (Boone 1983: 2).
Despite the destruction that the pictorial manuscripts have suffered prior to and especially in the aftermath of the Spanish conquest, enough material has survived to permit us a detailed study of the treatment and disposal that the dead were awarded in prehispanic Aztec Mexico.
In the present article I shall concentrate on two representative examples among the pictorial manuscripts which successfully epitomise the complex mortuary ritualistic process and the philosophy behind it.
This is probably the earliest surviving Aztec codex. Although there is some controversy as to its prehispanic date, there is no doubt that it is at least prehispanic in content and style. It is mainly calendrical and ritual in its nature and the native style is preserved in a less ‘acculturated’ fashion than the Magliabechiano example discussed later. Of all the manuscripts it was the ritual, calendrical type such as this one that were selected for destruction by the ecclesiastical authorities. “Manuscripts of this type survived systematic extirpation of native paganism due to their having been sent to Europe as curiosity pieces immediately after their discovery” (Glass 1975: 29).
The funerary aspect that is of interest to us is largely neglected here, since death was not a major trait of the calendrical nature of this codex. I have however managed to locate one panel (Fig. 1) which illustrates the ritualistic use of death both at supernatural and an earthly level. Mictlantecuhtli, the god of the underworld appears, on the left carrying a snake, sceptre and a shield with its accessories; at his back there is an adornment, consisting of a type of blue and red attire from which a Miquiztli (death) head in relief emerges. Chachalmeca is in front of him, adorned with a special head-dress with white and black stripes that secure the head and also with the characteristic metl decorations: spiral shell and flat circle, ending in a large cone. This funerary deity also has a black and white mirror chest, and the bones, crudely painted, appear underneath the textiles. Above him there is a funerary or mortuary bundle (Fig. 2) with two flags, one of which has the easily recognisable insignia of Centeotl, the god of corn (Paso y Troncoso 1988).
This panel is extremely important for two reasons. Firstly, this is the earliest known representation of an Aztec mortuary bundle, a recurrent feature found in pictorial manuscripts across Mesoamerica with minor alterations and stylistic variations involved. Secondly, it concerns one of the most important deities in the Aztec pantheon, Mictlantecuhtli, who is of great relevance in the world of the afterlife. The importance of this codex is that it provides first hand information of Aztec funerary procedures without one of the possible misconceptions and biases imposed by the western mentality. It therefore forms a solid background against which the written and pictorial colonial sources can be compared.
Figure 3 shows the funerary proceedings relating to the death of a lord. The deceased was shrouded in a squatting position and then, depending on the cause of death, was either burned or cremated. In this case we can see the symbol of fire on top of the funerary bundle, hinting at the imminent cremation of the deceased. In front of him a slave is sacrificed by extracting his heart so he can accompany the noble lord to the other life. Wives were also buried alive in order to serve their husbands in the afterlife.
Figure 4 also represents the mortuary ritual of a high ranking individual. His children and relatives are mourning and they give him cacauatl (chocolate) for the journey. “They also buried their grinding stones and corn so it could be ground and they buried food and riches according to his class position” (Tudela de la Orden 1980: 117).
Also present is a metate or grinding stone, on top of which a human arm lies, relating to the chronicles and other colonial sources which describe how food made out of human flesh was prepared for the deceased. On the left margin of the panel is a burial ditch where the remains of the deceased lie. The corpse is represented by a skull, and on either side are coas or primitive spades that were used to dig the ditch.
Figure 5 represents the death of a merchant. He was cremated and his remains buried together with his wealth. Feline skins were placed around him holding everything else that he had: sandals, gold and precious stones, feathers, etc. to enable him to continue his occupation in his final resting place.
The death rite of Tititl is depicted in figure 6. This is a representation of the feast called Tititl, which the Indians celebrate in memory of their dead. A replica of the deceased was built and a mask was made for that purpose. They placed in his nose a piece of blue paper and the inside of the wooden mask was stuffed with white feathers. They placed a staff adorned with some papers they called amath, and on the head was placed a head-dress of grass. In front two Indians sing and play a kettle drum. This was repeated for four years following the death and was then discontinued.
As we have seen, the perception of death was taken to a level of deep religious cult among the Nahuatl indigenous people of central Mexico. Durkheim offers an alternative interpretation stating that “Funeral rites and rites of mourning do not constitute a cult, though this name has sometimes wrongfully been given to them. In reality, a cult is not a simple group of ritual precautions which a man is held to take in certain circumstances; it is a system of diverse rites, festivals and ceremonies which all have this characteristic that they reappear periodically. They fulfil the need which the believer feels of strengthening and reaffirming at regular intervals of time, the bond which unites them to the sacred beings upon which he depends” (Durkheim 1965: 80).
The ethnohistorical record has clearly demonstrated that the Aztec preoccupation with death was not just a spontaneous or sporadic attempt to try and come to terms with it but a conscientious, elaborated and systematic process of rites, ceremonies and carefully calculated proceedings whose background originates in the deepest of the Mesoamerican traditions. I suggest that this profound expression of sentiment does deserve to be called a veritable religious cult which was deeply embedded into the daily life of the Aztec population. This death cult was also disseminated in the Aztec literature, history and myths and as we shall see later it was carried further by means of the Spanish chronicles.
“To the Mexicans death was not an altogether abhorrent idea being little more than an incident in the continuity between this life and the next”. (Joyce 1920: 101-102).
Contrary to western religious ideology, the Aztec believed that it was the manner of death and the direct cause of it which was relevant to an individual’s final destination in the afterlife, not the behavioural pattern that he had followed during his lifetime. In other words, the manner of death was more important than the manner of life since it had a direct bearing upon the destiny of the soul.
The important colonial chronicler, brother Sahagun depicts the various regions where individuals could go upon dying. Warriors who died in battle or as sacrificial victims were destined to depart to the eastern paradise of the sun or Ichan Tonatiuh Ilhuijcan, where assembled on a great plain, they greeted its rising by beating upon their shields and escorting it on its journey to the zenith. After four years in the ‘heaven sun’ they descended to the earth in the form of beautiful birds of bright plumage spending their time among flowers. Women dying in childbirth were equally fortunate. As the counterpart of the warriors they also went to the paradise of the sun bearing to it a litter of bright feathers from the zenith to the horizon, when they descended to the earth in the form of moths. Thus the sun was eternally kept in motion through the constant alternating help of the warriors and the women, the former helping in its daily rise and the latter in its diurnal setting. Equally the pochteca or professional merchant who died while trading would also earn a privileged place in the sun. The deceased would be put in a seated position and subsequently wrapped in a mortuary bundle which would be later cremated. The burned remains would then be put in a stone box or jar together with the offerings related to the deceased. However, the women who died in childbirth and the merchants were not cremated but buried (Sahagun 1981).
The second region where the souls of the dead could go was the terrestrial paradise Tlalocan, the home of the god Tlaloc, the rain god, a place of delight “where plants and flowers flourished in a miraculous fertility and summer was perpetual” (Joyce 1920: 102). To it were designated those who had died of dropsy, gout, scabies and leprosy; also either by drowning or being struck by lightning. Anyone who perished in connection with aquatic themes was assured a place there. No cremation took place in this case and the ‘mummy’ bundles of the deceased were directly inhumed. For the lower classes the burial would take place under the floor of the house so the deceased could keep a strong connection with the living.
The third location where the soul of a deceased could go was a place called Mictlan or the realm of the underworld, which was erroneously regarded by Christian writers as the equivalent to hell. To it went those who died of natural death or old age. In it resided the god Mictlantecuhtli and his female counterpart Mictlancihuatl. The literature disagrees as to the physical nature of this underworld. On the one hand it is depicted as being an area of darkness situated below the earth on which the sun never shone, having been called “the kingdom of obscurity and death” (Gonzalez Torres 1975: 38). It has also been translated as a “place without exits or holes” (Dibble and Anderson 1950-69) and Sahagun describes it as follows : “Though living in the underworld, the souls of the dead were not deprived of the light of the sun, since the latter was supposed to pass through the infernal regions during the night on its journey back to the east” (Joyce, 1920: 102-103).
In any case, to go to Mictlan “the ninth and deepest new stratum of the unknown” (Matos Moctezuma 1971: 89) it was essential to undertake a long road full of perils and menaces, through the eight underworld levels prior to Mictlan’s final abode. The soul had to pass between two clashing mountains, to run the gauntlet of a great snake and huge lizard, to traverse eight deserts and eight hills, and to encounter a wind full of stone knives. Finally, but not until the end of four years, the soul reached the great river which must be crossed by swimming. The aid of a red dog was necessary for this final stage and a dog of this colour was reared in the house and slain at the funeral by thrusting an arrow down its throat. The body was placed by the side of the defunct, with a cotton string around its neck for guidance purposes. “The dog was to perform the part of Charon, and carry the king on his back across the deep stream called Chicunanhuapan ‘nine waters’, a name which points to the nine heavens of the Mexicans” (Bancroft, 1883: 605).
A further location to which the deceased could go has been described by Nagao: “Tonacatecuhtli ichan was the final resting place for children who died. Like Tlalocan it was conceived as a garden paradise, full of trees, flowers, and fruits ... innocent babies or children destined for this heaven were metaphorically compared to precious greenstone, bracelets and turquoises. These dead children were buried in front of maize beans to signify that they went to a ‘good and fine place’” (Nagao 1985: 40).
Those who died in wars and whose bodies could not be recovered were assured of adequate rites that were conducted through the use of paper figures representing the deceased. We are unaware of any ghosts or spectres wandering on the earth due to the individual’s lack of adequate funerary rites or proper burial procedures. “However, there are references concerning ghosts that took the shape of skeletons or even mortuary bundles. This, on the other hand, does not imply a relation between the deceased and the wandering spectres” (Yolotl Gonzalez 1975: 37). Nevertheless we should keep such a possibility in mind.
This paper continues in a second part