The simplest and most convincing theory about how Maya influence flowed into Mosquitia has it that when Copán was struck with famine and unrest, some of the original Chibcha people of Copán simply packed up and left, seeking refuge in Mosquitia where they had linguistic ties and possibly even relatives. We know that most of the population of Copán walked away; Mosquitia was probably one destination. Some archaeologists take this further: They think that during the chaos of the Maya collapse, a group of warriors marched over from Copán and seized control of Mosquitia. As proof they cite the fact that, when the early Spanish arrived in Honduras, they found tribes of Nahua/Aztec-speaking Indians in Honduras southwest of Mosquitia who may have been a remnant of one such invasive group. (Others think those tribes were descended from Aztec traders, not invaders.)
One of the most intriguing theories about why Mosquitia began to look Maya involves what archaeologists call the “esoteric knowledge” model. In many societies, the elites rule over the common people and get them to do what they want by displaying their sanctity and holiness. This ruling class of priests and lords awe the populace with arcane rituals and ceremonies using secret knowledge. The priests claim, and of course themselves believe, that they are performing rites that are essential to appease the gods and gain divine favor for everyone’s benefit—to avert disaster, sickness, and defeat in battle, while encouraging fertility, rainfall, and bountiful crops. In Mesoamerica and probably also in Mosquitia, these rituals were dramatic and involved human sacrifice. Those noble lords with access to the “ultimate truths” leveraged that knowledge to control the masses, avoid physical labor, and amass wealth for themselves.* Part of the allure and prestige of esoteric knowledge, the theory goes, is its association with distant and exotic lands—in this case, the lands of the Maya. The “Mayanization” of Mosquitia, therefore, may not have required an invasion; it might instead have been a method for local elites to gain and hold supremacy over the common folk.
The city of T1 at the height of its power would have been impressive indeed. “Even in this remote jungle,” Chris Fisher said to me, “where people wouldn’t expect it, there were dense populations living in cities—thousands of people. That is profound.” T1 consisted of nineteen settlements distributed throughout the valley. It was an immense human-engineered environment, in which the ancient Mosquitia people transformed the rainforest into a lush, curated landscape. They leveled terraces, reshaped hills, and built roads, reservoirs, and irrigation canals. In its heyday T1 probably looked like an unkempt English garden, with plots of food crops and medicinal plants mingled with stands of valuable trees such as cacao and fruit, alongside large open areas for public ceremonies, games, and group activities, and shady patches for work and socializing. There were extensive flower beds, because flowers were an important crop used in religious ceremonies. All these growing areas were mixed in with residential houses, many on raised earthen platforms to avoid seasonal flooding, connected by paths. “Having these garden spaces embedded within urban areas,” said Fisher, “is one characteristic of New World cities that made them sustainable and livable.”
Even the vistas were tended, with view lines opened up to sacred architecture. The pyramids and temples needed to be seen from afar, so the people could appreciate their power and watch important ceremonies. The entire effect of all this might have been something like Frederick Law Olmsted’s vision for Central Park, only wilder.
While the valley is spectacularly isolated now, in its heyday it was a center of trade and commerce. “When you’re here today,” Chris said, “you feel so disconnected. It’s a wilderness, and it’s hard to imagine you’re even in the twenty-first century. But in the past, it wasn’t isolated at all. It was in the midst of an intense network of human interaction.” Situated in a fortress-like valley, the city of T1 would have been a highly defensible place of retreat, something akin to a medieval castle that was normally a bustling center of trade but, if threatened, could raise its drawbridge, arm the battlements, and defend itself from attack. Because of this, T1 might have been part of a strategic zone of control in pre-Columbian times, possibly an anchor that defended the interior from invaders coming inland from the coast. It may also have been a bulwark against attacks from the Maya realm.
And then, around 1500, this culture collapsed. But unlike the Maya, who experienced a multitiered collapse, with various city-states declining at different times, the Mosquitia civilization vanished everywhere all at once—in a sudden, civilization-wide catastrophe. “We have only a glimpse of this great culture,” said Oscar Neil, “before it vanished in the forest.”
CHAPTER 21
The vulture—the symbol of death and transition—was placed in the middle.
The undisturbed cache of sculptures was an outstanding find—but just how important would only be revealed by excavation. While similar caches of objects had been found in large ruins in Mosquitia going back to the 1920s, not a single one had ever been professionally excavated; archaeology in Mosquitia is, as I’ve noted before, a dangerous, expensive, and arduous activity. By the time archaeologists found most of these caches, they had already been dug into or partially looted. Even the few somewhat in-situ caches still existing today—perhaps four or five—have been irredeemably disturbed. What this means is that the experts have never been able to study them properly and coax them into yielding their secrets, the clues to what makes Mosquitia so special. To date, archaeologists had no idea what the caches were for, why they were created, or what the sculptures meant. Chris hoped that a meticulous, scientific excavation of the cache in T1 might change that.
When Chris and his team returned to the jungle, they began excavating the cache as soon as the next dry season hit, in January of 2016, and within a month they had uncovered a trove of over two hundred stone and ceramic artifacts, many in fragments, with hundreds more still buried. This was an incredible concentration of wealth piled in an area of only a few hundred square feet—out of an archaeological site several square miles in extent. To the ancient people of Mosquitia, this small place was clearly of supreme ritual importance.
The cache, Chris concluded, was an offering, a kind of shrine. These were precious objects, carved by artisans out of hard rhyolite or basalt. There were at least five kinds of stone from different areas, suggesting a network of trade in fine stone with other communities. Having no metal tools to chisel with, these ancient sculptors shaped them using a laborious grinding process, using handheld rocks and sand to abrade a block of stone into the desired form. Archaeologists call these “ground stone” objects, as opposed to objects carved using traditional hammers and chisels. A tremendous amount of labor, skill, and artistry went into creating each sculpture. Only a specialized class of artisans could have created them.