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In this New Spain, as in all the pagan nations, they held, and on
account
of our sins still hold, the sun in great veneration,
treating it as it were God. The basis which they had for this was
a
tradition which was current among the Indians: that is, that there
were two worlds or two kinds of people.
In
the first, mankind was transmuted into animals and into the sun
and the moon. Thus they attribute a rational soul to the
sun, moon,
and animals, speaking to them for their sorceries as if they
understood, summoning and invoking them under
other names for their
spells, as will be told at greater length in its proper place. As a
basis for the worship of the
sun, they recount a fable of the kind
in Ovid's Metamorphoses, which they tell concisely. They say, then,
that those
of that era had to transform themselves into the things
that they had to be.
In the second, the transformation had
to be in accord with each
one's merits. A huge bonfire was ordered to be made, so that
providing themselves in it after
it had been well ignited, they
might acquire merit for the said transformation; for it was
established law that they
would attain honor and excellence by means
of that fire, and would be superior lords in the second era.
This rumor
and hope of excellence and superiority, and of being
turned into gods, briefly brought together a great number of people,
especially
leaders and potentates of that era, ambitious and
desirous of commanding everything—as is usual in such persons,
since
it seems to them that all are in their debt, no matter how
unreasonable this might be.
Once a great number
of leaders and potentates had been gathered
together, and the furnace or bonfire well lit for the ordeal, the
said potentates
began the undertaking, giving preference to the
lowly as they always do in similar engagements, even though these
might
have fewer merits. But in this, as the power of favor and
bribery was not in effect, they did not prevail; because while
the
drive of ambition and the desire to rule incited and encouraged
them, fear intimidated them and the danger of the
fire disheartened
them. And so, seeing that all had arrived at the ordeal, these
remained at the first step, and the
others at the second, while the
bravest did not pass the first stair of the furnace. They spent
many hours on these
without anyone daring to enter the fire.
Suddenly there came forth among them all the one then called God—in
their
tongue CENTEOTL ICNOPILTZINTLI which literally means "single
God, son without a father." [Single God, Orphan/ Tezcatlipoca.
Translation,
mine]. This one spoke to a sick person there, who was
covered with pox and sores. He said to him that since he saw what
was
going on—that in spite of the greatness of the prize, not one of
those powerful and rich magnates had dared undergo
the ordeal—he
should stand out among them all and take such a great prize from
their grasp by entering the fire
before any other. The sick one
gave the excuse that those very potentates would not let him get
there, but the god persisted
in talking to him, persuading him to
rush in among them all and to quickly throw himself into the fire.
At that,
the poor, poxy, sore-covered invalid resolved himself to
such rigorous ordeal. When he passed towards it among those
powerful
beings, they stopped him, insulting and reproaching him
that such a base person, sick, poor, and stinking, should dare
an
undertaking worthy and fitting only for persons such as they. But
after stopping him in this way once or twice, the
third time he
passed without them being able to detain him nor even to see him
until he was at the furnace's mouth,
whence they could not remove
him since no one dared go there.
Then the invalid bravely hurled himself into the midst
of that
ranging inferno; through its force and flames his entire sickness
and sores were purged and purified, and he
became handsome and
shinning and was turned into the sun, which is the most brilliant of
heavenly bodies. This was the
prize of the testing of his soul and
suffering, for which he deserved the said transmutation, and through
which he rose
to heaven and was worshipped as God. But as soon as
he left the said furnace purified, he threw himself into a pool of
very
cold water, which had also been prepared as an ordeal; on
leaving it fully cleansed, he passed to heaven where he hid himself.
Seeing
this happen, one of the healthy ones amongst all that
multitude of people which had assembled for the ordeal, ashamed that
a
sick, poxy person (called Nanahuatzin in their tongue) should have
achieved such high honor and distinction among so many,
and
irritated by ambition and envy, did what the first had done.
Passing boldly through the midst of them all, he hurled
himself into
the furnace. But he found it quenched by the first one's ordeal—by
the fluids and corruption from
which he had escaped—and so he could
not achieve such purity, even though on leaving the furnace he also
threw
himself into the said pool of water. But since he could not
be the sun, he was transformed into the moon with less light
than
the sun—altered because he had found the furnace less hot.
Thereupon, he rose to heaven like the sun. [Others
vary in the
manner of the conversion or transmutation of this sick one into the
sun. They say that a wealthy Eagle came
from heaven, seized him,
and carried him off to heaven…. About the second one, who had begun
to undergo the same
ordeal, they say that a Jaguar attempted to get
him out of it, but could not, and was marked by having gone into the
fire;
that is why it has those yellow and black paintings. And
[they say] that the said wise man was burned up and converted
into
ashes, and that afterwards the gods carried him off to heaven and
converted him into the moon; that is why the
moon has that ashy or
chalky color.]
This accomplished, it only remained for the sun to show itself so
that each
one could fulfill his obligation, honoring as God,
sacrificing to it, and making offerings to it. This had to be done
during
fasts as punishments for the bad outcome of the
transformation, since once all the rest of that people had performed
it,
they belonged entirely to the Sun. So as to better himself
through the said transformation, each one endeavored to improve
himself
through his offering. All, while fasting, waited for the
sun to show itself to them so that they might make sacrifice and
offering
to it.
While they were waiting, the sun showed itself to them in the west,
but hid itself so quickly that they had
no time to make an offering
to it. The second time it came up in the South, and what happened
the first time took place.
The third time it came up in the North
and hid itself as on the two previous occasions. At that, one of
those ready
for the offering, being tired of fasting and discouraged
with tricks, ate his offering. Afterwards the sun came up in the
East
and continued its course to the West, upon which all those
ready made their offerings and sacrifices. But the one who had
eaten
his offering found himself with nothing to offer. Even though
he went to the rest of them, no one would give him anything.
Seeing
himself, then, pressed by necessity and opportunity, and with no
choice in the matter, he looked for something
to offer. He reached
now for stones, now for sticks, and he even wanted to grasp the
insubstantial shadows, but in the
end he found nothing to offer.
On account of this, they say, the sun turned him into a bird called
Huinaxcatl [hungry
sparrow hawk], and condemned him to perpetual
hunger for not having fasted, and to grasping empty shadows for not
having
made an offering. This is confirmed by the fact that this
bird appears by night and is nothing more than feathers and bones,
and
always appears to be confused. They say that the sun turned the
rest who had fasted and made offerings into good animals,
and that
they would always have something to eat.
On this fabulous history, or perhaps we should say historical
fable,
is based most of what the Indians do today in their idolatries to
the sun, carrying offerings to it as soon as
it rises above the
mountain peaks and hilltops and pools of water.
Secondly, there is the custom of and superstitious
devotion to
keeping a fire in the borning room without removing the fire for
four days in a row, as will be told in
its place at greater length.
Thirdly, there is the use of the number four in all their
superstitions and idolatrous
rites, such as during the insufflations
which the sorcerers and false doctors make when they exorcise or
invoke the
Devil. I could never track down the reason for it until
I heard a story of waiting for the sun. for the same reason the
hunters,
when they set out snares to catch deer, shout towards the
four quarters of the world and place four crossed cords on a
rock.
The archers call four times to the deer, repeating four times this
word TAHUI ["Hola! Oh!"] which nobody understands
today, and then
shouting four times like a Puma. They place a lighted candle on the
grave for the dead for four successive
days, while others throw a
pitcher of water on it for four successive days. And finally, the
number four is venerated
among them.
[Taken from: Aztec Sorcerers in Seventeenth Century Mexico: The
Treatise on Superstitions. By Hernando
Ruiz de Alarcon. Chapter
10]
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