Land of Sweetness: A Pre-Columbian Timeline

On llamas, it's worth noting that they were rare in lowland Ecuador IOTL, and even ITTL they've become common there only in the early fifteenth century, in the later half of Lakekala Siki's reign. This leaves us with less than a hundred years for camelid husbandry to become common further north before European intrusion. We'll see, though. We have to be getting back to Mesoamerica eventually...

Wait forgive if you have already mention but what happening with the musica civilization because they were one of the lost advanced civ otl and had metal working tech so what happening with them?
You mean the Muisca of the northernmost Andes (though not culturally Andean), right? They were conquered by Lakekala in 1411-1412. The Sikis have no major threat on their northern border as of 1427. Or on any of their borders, for that matter. But that might change.

If you did mean a "Musica" civilization, I'd be up for their concerts.
 
You mean the Muisca of the northernmost Andes (though not culturally Andean), right? They were conquered by Lakekala in 1411-1412. The Sikis have no major threat on their northern border as of 1427. Or on any of their borders, for that matter. But that might change.

If you did mean a "Musica" civilization, I'd be up for their concerts.
i mean a musica civilization because i bet it would be pretty easy for them to form up again and because it seems like the siki stole a lot of there ideas on how to make a kingdom because the musica did that
 
On llamas, it's worth noting that they were rare in lowland Ecuador IOTL, and even ITTL they've become common there only in the early fifteenth century, in the later half of Lakekala Siki's reign. This leaves us with less than a hundred years for camelid husbandry to become common further north before European intrusion. We'll see, though. We have to be getting back to Mesoamerica eventually...
I guess it really all depends on if the Spanish are able to gain a foothold in the Americas in the first place, even as a trading presence. A lack of apparent success could set back colonialism by quite a bit.
i mean a musica civilization because i bet it would be pretty easy for them to form up again and because it seems like the siki stole a lot of there ideas on how to make a kingdom because the musica did that
He means to comment on the spelling -- it's "Muisca", not "Musica". That said they seem pretty well subjugated and integrated as it is. I see no reason for a major revolt, for now...
 
Reading the Galapagoes anectdote-either you changed the dates or that's not the spanish because if Lakaela Siki established the outpost it had to be there by 1427 and 60-odd years still puts the events described as ending around 1487. Unless there is another hint about goings-on with a certain Cusco upstart gang?

EDIT: Also the spaniards noted that among the most notorious forms of sacrifice practice in Accapunto was the "tear sacrifice" where people would be subject to the stylings of Tlaxcallan music until they shed many tears.
 
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What I really want to see is Lama riding humans ride out of the Andes take over most of meaoamerican states and establish a north America Mongolia empire
 
What I really want to see is Lama riding humans ride out of the Andes take over most of meaoamerican states and establish a north America Mongolia empire
hmmm, I can see the Incan's picking up on their predecessors footsteps and invading the rest of Columbia.
I'm kind of interested in the Guyanas, and areas like that. I'm sure MesoAmerican merchants reached that place, but the question is, did they settle it?
 
hmmm, I can see the Incan's picking up on their predecessors footsteps and invading the rest of Columbia.
I'm kind of interested in the Guyanas, and areas like that. I'm sure MesoAmerican merchants reached that place, but the question is, did they settle it?
Previous update address that the have not reach that area they extent goes as far as the farthest part of costal Colombia and the farther away the there are trading ports it more just where nobles whonliwk danger go to and after that not much
 
Entry 17: The Age of Caciques, c. 1250-1350
After Entry 6 and Entry 7, and a full month and a week, we go back to the Archipelago. Oh, and I've got tests coming up again, so this will be the last post for about three weeks or so. The next batch of posts will be about the Mississippians, which this post already touches on very slightly.

Thanks for bearing with me so far :)

* * *

From “The Evolution of Pre-Taiguano Yucayan Society,” paper by Miquel Tlaxcualcuani and Izapella Cipactōnal

Stage III, c. 1250-1350. Stage III societies correspond to the “Despotic Age of Caciques” so reviled by Taiguano and Cuban sources alike. The natural result of the gradual enslavement of the vast majority of the Yucayan population and the elevation of a professional warrior-nobility, the Age of Caciques was marked by four processes whose consequences were fundamental to understanding the later Imperial Era in the Yucayan Archipelago: 1) Increasing social stratification; 2) Increasing administrative centralization; 3) Increasing contact with both Mesoamerica and the Caniba; 4) Increasing Mesoamericanization of Yucayan culture.


1) Increasing social stratification

By 1250, Yucayan society was divided into two main classes: the free yuguazabarahu nobility, headed by the cacique or monarch, and the enslaved pentasrix peasantry.

The yuguazabarahu class had once been free peasants, but in their transition to noble status they gradually became landless; the land was more productive when cultivated by pentasrix, whose agricultural pursuits could be far better controlled and exploited by the elite. To compensate for the loss of land directly farmed by the freemen, the caciques allowed yuguazabarahu matrilines to govern specific communities of pentasrix and receive the lion’s (or perhaps the jaguar’s?) share of their labor and production in a feudal-like contract.

The yuguazabarahu class itself was divided into two. The upper nobility, the nitaino, had belonged to high-status lineages in Stages I and II. They still controlled the largest pentasrix communities, played the most important roles in the bureaucracy, had their lineage palaces directly next to the royal palace, and had privileged access to certain prestige goods, including llama wool cloth. The cacique rarely married outside the nitaino class.

The lower nobility, the naboria, were descendants of the free peasant lineages in Stages I and II. The naboria controlled smaller pentasrix communities, often served nitaino nobles as village governors, and lived in the outskirts of the capital. Because they had limited ways to accumulate capital through their pentasrix communities, and because the nitaino looked down on trade, they were the primary merchants in the realm.

The noble lineages lived in the capital itself, in walled lineage palaces surrounded by the humble dwellings of their followers. Archaeologists invariably find that fourteenth-century Yucayan capital settlement patterns resemble a conglomeration of independent villages, each of them surrounding a yuguazabarahu compound, far more than a unified city; this presumably reflected the degree of autonomy each lineage enjoyed. Archaeological surveys of Haitian cities suggest that the average Yucayan capital in 1300 was home to some eighty of these lineage palaces, with about a third of them nitaino.

The pentasrix represented around 85% of the population. They were considered the property of their noble lineage to be sold at will and were banned from leaving their communities or marrying outside their community without noble permission.

The priestly class was also divided into two. The upper-class priests came from the yuguazabarahu, received training in religious academies, and officiated worship to the Sweetness artifacts of the noble lineages and the new Mesoamerican gods. The lower-class priests came from the pentasrix and helped in the religious life of the commoners.

Laws promulgated by the caciques closely regulated the division between the classes. Marriage between a pentasrix and a yuguazabarahu was forbidden, any child of a union between a pentasrix and a yuguazabarahu was considered the child of the pentasrix alone, a yuguazabarahu could freely kill or sell a pentasrix, the pentasrix were banned from using any good produced outside the realm, the pentasrix were forbidden from ever leaving the realm unless as merchant ship rowers or as goods to be sold, and so on.


2) Increasing administrative centralization

It would be impossible for even an archaeology undergraduate to fail to distinguish eleventh-century and thirteenth-century Yucayan settlement patterns.

The crucial difference is nucleation. Stage I Yucayan societies had dispersed settlement patterns, with population densities roughly equal all across the cacicazgo. It would have been trivial for naboria families to cross the border and join another chiefdom, or for peripheral sub-caciques and war captains to initiate cross-border raids on their own.

With the rise of warfare in Stage II and the ballooning of the pentasrix population, this state of affairs became unsupportable. To prevent their enslaved peasants from fleeing home and rival neighbors from taking their slaves, caciques concentrated the pentasrix population in intensely cultivated areas around their capital. Peripheral areas were naturally emptied of people through slave raiding, and for the first time in history, Yucayan polities had clearly defined borders.

The following data from a study of Stages I and III settlements in the Cuban kingdom of Maisi, with “capital area” defined as the portion of the kingdom within 120 kilometers of the capital, is telling:

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The sparsely populated border areas were defended by lines of fortifications, which soon made slave warfare a costly and unproductive means of acquiring slaves. After 1250, most Yucayan slaves sold to Mesoamerica were pentasrix criminals who had run afoul of the new legal systems of the caciques.

With such immense populations of slaves in the immediate vicinity of the capital, more efficient methods of state control became imperative. As seen from the graph above, communities were consolidated into larger villages, on average twice as larger as Stage I ones. As mentioned, each pentasrix community belonged to a yuguazabarahu lineage. However, no lineage was ever permitted to control two adjacent communities, as to block any noble family from consolidating control over an entire region in an affront to royal power. Most nitaino families thus controlled widely disparate communities across the realm and relied on village governors from the naboria class to govern local slaves directly.

Royal agents regularly visited each pentasrix community to hold censuses, keep track of local conditions, and ensure that the yuguazabarahu were not plotting against the cacique. If a certain community had grown to more than fifteen hundred people, the royal agents recommended that it be divided into two. This allowed a constant supply of new pentasrix communities to reward noble lineages with and ensured that noble power could not balloon in pace with the ballooning population.

The caciques adopted the Mesoamerican merchants’ syllabary and used it to keep censuses and pass laws and decrees. These laws regulated every aspect of pentasrix life, at least according to later Taiguano sources. Guaiqui says in his Letters to Christopher Columbus:

In the Age of the Caciques, they had laws that said, they had laws written in their crude and ugly syllabaries that said,

“The pentasrix shall not marry, because they will have more children if every man were to copulate with every woman. And the pentasrix shall be told to copulate like rats, like monkeys. And the pentasrix shall not put his penis in a woman’s mouth or anus, because they will not have children this way. And the pentasrix shall not copulate with those of their same gender, because they will not have children this way. And the pentasrix are to always go naked, and to be beaten if they hide their genitals, and to be sold to the Maya if they wear a loincloth, because their nakedness shows that they are slaves, and they will have more children this way.”

The Caciques thought that the pentasrix were animals, and this was not according to taiguan, and we abolished them.
Other yuguazabarahu nobles served in the cacique’s small bureaucracy as generals, harbormasters, and diplomats. These were the most prestigious positions possible for a Yucayan nobleman, and because promotion to these posts was based on recommendations from existing post-holders, they were closed to the naboria class.


3) Increasing contact with both Mesoamerica and the Caniba​

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In Stage I, Yucayan ships had dominated contact between Mesoamerica and the Archipelago. The dynamics were reversed in Stage II; Yucayans stayed home, Mesoamericans went east. By Stage III, trade on the Blue-Green Road had become roughly as Columbus found it, with both Mesoamerican and Yucayan ships full participants.

Sources from the fifteenth-century Cuban kingdom of Maisi suggest that the nitaino scorned trade. Any self-respecting nitaino noble would have more than enough pentasrix villages under his control to live a comfortable life without having to leave his homeland for uncertain adventures overseas. This meant that a Yucayan merchant vessel was universally captained by a naboria noble, transporting both his own cargo and the goods of nitaino on their behalf. Most sailors were pentasrix from the naboria captain’s community.

Naboria merchant ships anchored off every eastern Mesoamerican port, from the Huasteca to Ācuappāntōnco, and in some ports – like the coastal cities of the League of Mayapán – they represented the single largest foreign merchant demographic. There was a naboria population in Ācuappāntōnco, and though we have no sure evidence, it is very likely that some naboria merchant ships sailed into Jocay harbor.

Trade was an easy way to raise state revenue, and Yucayan caciques welcomed both Mesoamericans coming to their ports and naboria leaving from them. The office of harbormaster was one of the most prestigious government posts in any cacicazgo, and most kings and yuguazabarahu families alike put their slaves to work on plantations to cultivate cash crops in high demand in Mesoamerica, including maize and other staples, wide varieties of tropical fruits, tobacco, honey, cacao, and raw cotton. Yucayan manufacturing was still at an underdeveloped stage in the fourteenth century, and foodstuffs were the undisputable export of the Archipelago. It may not have been uncommon for caciques to wear Mesoamerican cloth woven with cotton produced from their own country.

The decline in the number of war slaves that could be acquired within the Archipelago pushed naboria slave traders to look for slaves elsewhere. To the north, they sailed beyond their traditional slave-hunting grounds in Calusa lands as far as a land full of sandbanks and islands that the natives called Tsenacommacah, “Densely Inhabited Land,” although the Yucayans could not have thought it very densely inhabited compared to either Mesoamerica or their own isles. To the west, they passed the Mississippi Delta and finally found the deserts of Aridoamerica, though no Yucayan seems to have ever circumnavigated the entire Gulf of Mexico. To the south, they passed the Lesser Antilles and reached the South American mainland.

Slaves were not the sole commodity purchased by Yucayan ships abroad, and goods from both the Southeast’s temperate forests and the jungles of northern South America were early and important commodities.

To both north and south, the Yucayans found peoples who, as a general rule, did not build with stone, nor use writing, nor – at least initially – partake in the cultural language of the Mesoamericanate world, the civilizational sphere where Mesoamerican ideas and concepts held currency. These cultural differences were perceived as inferiority, and the Yucayans thus identified their northern and southern mainland neighbors as Caniba, “barbarian,” which has since become a very famous English word.

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The Yucayan perception of the world.


4) Increasing Mesoamericanization of Yucayan culture

The Yucayan elite of the Age of Caciques explicitly modeled itself on Mesoamerican examples. They wore Mesoamerican cloth, read Mesoamerican books, used Mesoamerican tools, and spoke a register with increasing Mesoamerican influence. Columbus noticed this early on. “The people of the Indies have two numbers,” he says. “The common people use one set, where “five” means “hand” and “twenty” means “man.” The grandees and magnates use another set based on twenties, wholly foreign and much more eloquent.”

This cultural influence is most archaeologically conspicuous in the sphere of elite religion.

All state temple complexes of the Age of Caciques have been lost. All but the famous Great Temple of Maisi were razed in the Revolutionary Era, and even the Maisi temples were destroyed in the 1520s. Thankfully, two recently discovered sources – a sketch of the Maisi temple by a very early Spanish observer and a late fifteenth-century Taiguano description of what the author describes as “the Great House of Idolatry in Maisi” – have been coupled with archaeological research on the former temple precincts to allow us a more comprehensive understanding of the religion of this last Cacique-state in the Yucayan Archipelago.

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A diagrammatic reproduction of the Maisi temple is given above.

From afar, the most distinguishing feature of the Maisi temple complex must have been the ceremonial stone walls. These are Mesoamerican features; Stage I Yucayan sacred sites use earthenworks and trenches (both of which are still found in the Maisi temple), but not walls.

Out of the five central constructions of the Maisi temple complex, two are dedicated specifically to Mesoamerican deities. To the north stands the Pyramid of Bacocolon, dedicated to the Feathered Serpent god of Mesoamerica. It is telling that the Pyramid of Bacocolon is nearly as large as the earthen Sweetness Mound that honors the Sweetness effigies of the state. In the southeastern corner of the complex, there is a pyramid temple to the Maya merchant god Ek Chuah, referred to by Yucayans as Acazua. The Pyramid of Acazua is again as large as the traditionally Yucayan feasting halls in the southwest. Even the ball court is characteristically Mesoamerican, although ball games were played in the Archipelago long before sustained mainland influence. A Maya ball player could have played well in Maisi.

The Pyramid of Bacocolon is especially interesting. Bacocolon was of course the central deity of Taiguano monolatry, and Taiguano sources always claim that the worship of Bacocolon was first introduced by the Taiguano state. Indeed, Taiguano sources credit the Pyramid of Bacocolon in Maisi – the deity’s only pyramid in Cuba in 1492 – to the patronage of the Second Guacayaraboque.

Here is where archaeology comes into play. Like many other Mesoamericanate cultures, the people of Maisi built new layers to their pyramids rather than rebuild them all, and the Spaniards were not able to destroy all of the innermost layers. When the temple complex was abandoned, they survived for archaeological study.

Radiocarbon dating on artifacts recovered from these early prototypes of the Pyramid of Bacocolon suggests that the building was first built in the late thirteenth century, nearly two centuries before Taiguano expansion into Cuba, and that it was expanded several times over the course of the fourteenth century by independent Maisi kings. Clearly, Mesoamerican influence on Yucayan religion long predates the Taiguano state cult.

Carvings on the surviving portions of the pyramid suggest that even in the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries, Bacocolon was a central deity strongly associated with royal authority. In each of the carvings where the deity appears directly, he is dressed in royal guise, often being served cohoba hallucinogens by the cacique of Maisi himself or receiving the blood of the cacique in autosacrificial rituals. The god’s association with culture, civilization, and scientific and artistic achievement also predates the Taiguano. In particular, the carvings appear to be associated with all ten of the “five taiguan arts” and “five taiguan sciences” pursued by fifteenth-century Yucayan artists and philosophers. For the former, the carvings portray:
  • A lavishly dressed scribe at work on a codex with a paintbrush in his hand, the Maisi analogue to the taiguan art of painting
  • The cacique of Maisi eyeing the sun as he places the foundation stone of a solstical shrine, the Maisi analogue to the taiguan art of architecture
  • A team of sculptors at work on the base walls of a pyramid, possibly the very Pyramid of Bacocolon, the Maisi analogue to the taiguan art of stonecarving
  • Five nitaino noblemen singing or chanting before a royal audience with an orchestra behind them, the Maisi analogue to the taiguan art of orchestral music; the harp characteristic of late fifteenth-century Taiguano music is missing, verifying sixteenth-century accounts claiming a 1444 invention inspired by the Panamanian musical bow
  • The cacique and twenty nitaino noblemen dancing with an orchestra behind them, the Maisi analogue to the taiguan art of musical dance
For the latter, the carvings portray:
  • The royal council in a hallucinogen-induced trance, the Maisi analogue to the taiguan science of religion
  • The cacique on an observatory beneath a star-strewn night, the Maisi analogue to the taiguan science of astronomy
  • A nitaino nobleman measuring the angle of a field, the Maisi analogue to the taiguan science of mathematics
  • A nitaino nobleman touching the point of an arrow, the Maisi analogue to the taiguan science of warfare
  • A nitaino nobleman listening to a standing Nahua warrior, a seated Maya merchant, and a chained Calusa slave, the Maisi analogue to the taiguan science of geography
Clearly, the Taiguano state owes much to its reviled predecessor states.​

* * *

Explanation of the map:
  • The “Natchez capital” corresponds to the Emerald Mound Site near modern Stanton, Mississippi. Emerald Mound was one of the four largest centers of the Plaquemine culture that eventually became the historical Natchez nation, and it was probably the major Natchez capital in 1492. In the early fourteenth century IOTL, chiefdom centers upriver in the Lower Yazoo Basin, like what is now the Winterville Site in Washington County, Mississippi, were probably more influential. But the increasing importance of Yucayan trade would have tipped the scales earlier than OTL.
  • The “Pensacola capital” corresponds to the Bottle Creek Indian Mounds in Baldwin County, Alabama, the historical center of the OTL Pensacola culture.
  • The “Apalachee capital” corresponds to Lake Jackson Mounds Archaeological State Park, the major center of the Fort Walton Culture, ancestors of the historical Apalachee nation.
  • Further south, in the Florida Peninsula, we have about three dozen ethnically Timucua chiefdoms north of the Lake Okeechobee area and the Calusa paramount chiefdom south of it. The Apalachee are believed to have had four times the population density of the Timucua and dominated many of their southern neighbors, both IOTL and ITTL. The Calusa are safe from the Apalachee, but this timeline isn’t turning out very well for them, what with them taking the brunt of Cuban slave raiding and all.
  • The “Guale capital” corresponds to the historical capital of the Guale-Tolomato chiefdom at Santa Catalina de Guale. I’m actually unsure how the political dynamics would have been like in coastal Georgia in the fourteenth century because the Savannah River Valley was a major population center at the time. IOTL, it was severely depopulated in the mid-fifteenth century, which is how the first Spaniards who stumbled into the area found it, and stayed empty almost until the arrival of the English.
  • The “Cofitachequi capital” corresponds to the Mulberry site in Sumter County, South Carolina. This was almost certainly the capital of the historical Cofitachequi chiefdom, the second-to-last Mississippian chiefdom to survive.
  • The “Pamlico capital” and “Tsenacommacah capital” are the sites of Pomeiock and Werowocomoco, both major regional centers in the sixteenth century (the latter was the capital of Powhatan, the “Emperor of Virginia” encountered by the Jamestown colonists). Both towns are inhabited by speakers of Eastern Algonquian languages and are outside the boundaries of the Mississippian cultural sphere.
The blue lines are drawn according to Helen Hornbeck Tanner’s map of communications networks in “The Land and Water Communication Systems of the Southeastern Indians” in Powhatan’s Mantle: Indians in the Colonial Southeast, but there’s bound to be mistakes. Myer’s classic 1926 map of his 125 Southeast Indian trails is probably better, but I couldn’t find an easily accessible version.

The Maisi temple complex is a hodgepodge of features from OTL Taino ceremonial sites – the oval-shaped village of En Bas Saline, Haiti, and the astronomically aligned circular Plaza de Chacuey in the Dominican Republic especially (see The Caribbean Before Columbus) – and the ceremonial precinct of Tenōchtitlan.
 
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We wee see the trading making canbia into a stone age and what about the biggest Mississippi River civ to the north what are they doing
 
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MISSISSIPPIAN CHAPTER. Entry 18: The Mississippian world in the fourteenth century
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From A Short History of America:

The fates of all Mississippian societies diverged greatly in the fourteenth century.

The Mississippian chiefdom had never been the most stable of societies. As a rule, their lifespans were cyclical. A Mississippian chiefdom began with the fusion of many smaller communities into a coherent polity. This chiefdom would often continue to expand, increasing in population and absorbing smaller communities. But bottlenecks were found as any chiefdom grew. Surpluses decreased as warfare increased and populations ballooned. Good soils and good deer were depleted, the constituent communities began to fight each other, and factionalism became rampant. After a hundred years or so, the chiefdom collapsed back into smaller communities that often abandoned their heartland entirely and migrated to neighboring areas. Such influxes of immigrants proved a major boon to neighboring communities who were on the verge of creating their own chiefdoms, and so the cycle began anew.

The cycle was broken with the coming of the Yucayans, though historians still debate the degree to which the foreigners were responsible for such momentous transformations. The chiefdoms of the coast broke through the restraints that had brought their ancestors to collapse and developed into Yucayan-influenced state societies, the “Kingdoms of the Cannibals” (reinos de los caníbales) encountered by the Spaniards. The inland chiefdoms underwent a general collapse in the great drought of 1359-1377, one which proved to be final. People no longer fled their ailing societies to help the rise of new chiefdoms; they abandoned hereditary monarchy altogether and joined into newer, freer forms of society. The Spaniards called them the “Wild Cannibals” (salvajes caníbales).

The majority of modern historians do agree that this state of affairs would have been impossible without contact from the Yucayan Archipelago and, for the Teoloel Empire, from Mesoamerica. Trade provided chieftains with coveted resources, new ideological weapons, and administrative apparatuses. And armed with greater social complexity and motivated by a market demand for slaves, these new Mississippian kings could press against their inland neighbors and lead them to collapse, setting in motion chain reactions that brought down chiefdom after chiefdom and ushered in migrations of hundreds of thousands away from the coast.

Spanish accounts emphasize the relative civilization of the coastal kingdoms as opposed to “the brutality… the ignorance… the savagery… [and] the bestiality” of the “Wild Cannibals.” Yet archaeologists have found that in the late fifteenth century, when the great migrations had ground to a cease and political stability returned, the “Wild Cannibals” were almost invariably in better health than the vast majority of the subjects of the “Kings of the Cannibals.” And the oral histories of inland native peoples repeatedly emphasize that it was their choice to live in simpler and freer societies, their choice to reject hierarchy and hereditary leadership.

The peoples of the inland looked at the vast armies and opulent cities of the coastal kings and decided they did not like it much.​

* * *

From a speech by a Cheroquí chieftain to the Spaniards:

“You ask why we fight Canos [Cofitachequi]. I will tell you why.

“The Cheroquí in ancient days were slaves! We were ruled by the Ani Cutani, a dynasty of priestly kings. The Ani Cutani were a godly race. They came from Above – that’s what they told us. At every council-house, at every Green Corn Dance, they said to us, ‘We are come from Above, with the command of the Creator whose abode is there.’ We believed them, feared them, obeyed them. To our ancestors who knelt and prostrated before the Ani Cutani, every word of their mouth was a divine command, every gesture of their hand sacred movement.

“The Ani Cutani were an evil race. They were haughty and insolent; they ate the best of the corn, drank the best of the juice; they abased us and had us carry them aloft on litters; they called us ‘Dogs’ and ‘Stinkards’ and said, ‘We are like the spirits and you are like the flies.’

“One day, a young and respected man went out on the hunt. He met a few Ani Cutani, and they said, ‘You will give us your wife’ – for his wife was very beautiful. And he said, ‘This cannot be, I love her so.’ They said, ‘So be it; the Ani Cutani never fail to have their want.’ And they shot the brain out of the man and went to his house and abducted his wife.

“And the old men among the Cheroquí went to the Ani Cutani and said, ‘Do not mistake us, lords! We have something to say. We respect your power, and we fear your magic; but you should not act with so little propriety.’ And the Ani Cutani said, ‘We act as we see fit.’ And they took the old men and sold them as slaves to Canos.

“So the Cheroquí said, ‘You have gone one step too far, Ani Cutani! Your days are past.’ And we took to the bow. The Ani Cutani said, ‘It matters little! We have power and you do not.’ And they came from the west, because that is the direction of death. They turned into ravens and came from the west, but we shot them out the sky; they turned invisible and came from the west, but with black powder we made them seen, like dead men; they turned their skins to stone and came from the west, but we choked them to death.

“And the Ani Cutani said, ‘Our magic is failing. What must we do?’ And they asked the Yemira [King of Cofitachequi] for help, for the Ani Cutani were all vassals of the Yemira and had regularly paid him great fortunes in tribute.

“And the Yemira said, ‘Indeed we will help you, Ani Cutani! It is a most intolerable thing that your and our slaves should strive to be free.’ And he marched west to our hills with thirty thousand troops.

“The Cheroquí were all in consternation. ‘Surely we cannot defeat the Yemira,’ we said. ‘Everyone knows that no man between that Sun in the Above World and Piasa [mythological dragon-bird] in the Below World has more bowmen than the Yemira, more pearls than the Yemira.’ Then one warrior whose mother had been killed by the Ani Cutani said, ‘I will kill the Yemira with a single shot of my bow.’ And we agreed to that. And he dressed in red and black, red for success and black for death.

“The Yemira came with his army thirty thousand strong, and with a single arrow the warrior shot him dead. The Canosans [people of Cofitachequi] fled, their despot dead. The Canosans are not men! They do not fight when their king is dead.

“The Ani Cutani all despaired, for their magic had failed them and their king had failed them, and we killed them all.

“And we said, ‘We are freed of the Ani Cutani, and from this day on no Cheroquí will ever bow before a hereditary ruler; may he who speaks well and knows much lead from this day on, no matter his parentage. And we will pity the Canosans, who are not free as we are and still serve their Yemira, just as we once served the Ani Cutani.’

“The new Yemira said, ‘Do not rejoice, Cheroquí! We will make war on you, we will make slaves of you, we will make you surrender and submit. You will never be safe in your villages; my troops will burn them down and take you as sacrifices and slaves; you will never be safe where you go. And one day we will restore the Ani Cutani. It is an unacceptable thing for a people to have no king.’

“And we said, ‘We are ready for your war, Yemira! And we shall see who wins in the end.’

“See, Spaniards! We are winning in the end.”​

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For the cyclical nature of Mississippian chiefdoms, see e.g. “Mississippian Chiefdoms and the Fusion-Fission Process” (Blitz, 1999) or “The Nature of Mississippian Regional Systems” (Hally, 2006). The fusion-fission cycle contributed to the vast empty lands scattered throughout the Southeast in 1540 (the Savannah River valley, for instance, was occupied by powerful chiefdoms from 1100 to 1450, then virtually totally emptied of people during a major chiefdom collapse mid-fifteenth century and remained uninhabited almost until the arrival of the English; further inland, there was an immense stretch of mostly depeopled land in what is now Kentucky that archaeologists call the Vacant Quarter), what appears to have been markedly low population densities compared to other complex chiefdom societies (if Hally’s research is correct, there were less than 40,000 people in the entirety of what is now northern Georgia in 1492 – a population density thirty-five times less than complex chiefdom/early state societies in Hawaii!), and the cultural similarities throughout the Southeast despite constant warfare and hostile relations between chiefdoms.

As should be clear, Mississippian societies always thrived under the specter of collapse, with very few mounds used for even as long as two centuries. The collapse of all but one Mississippian society in the century and a half following De Soto’s entrada is proof enough of this inherent fragility; drought, the political chaos caused by Spanish intrusion, and (possibly) disease were too much for the Mississippians to bear, and this time there was no cycling because chiefdoms were fraying in most places at once instead of being localized. ITTL, this collapse begins about two centuries earlier in the fourteenth century and starts with Yucayan-influenced states extending their influence inland. Happily for purposes of realism, this also corresponds with a catastrophic OTL drought from 1359 to 1377 which brought down the Etowah chiefdom in c. 1375.

My idea of the salvajes caníbales voluntarily rejecting state society is inspired by both the fact that almost all OTL eighteenth-century Southeastern peoples, including the Cherokees, did reject the hereditary monarchy that had been such a hallmark of their Mississippian ancestors, and by anthropologist James C. Scott‘s famous work The Art of Not Being Governed: An Anarchist History of Upland Southeast Asia.

In the sixteenth century OTL, the Cherokees lived in western North Carolina and eastern Tennessee. So having the Cherokees fight Cofitachequi (a chiefdom whose capital was in central South Carolina) is me taking some artistic license, but really, I wanted a people somewhat more familiar to the audience – and there’s actually an ATL reason for the inland Cherokees to expand towards the coast that will come up later on.

The Cherokee narrative is based on the actual Cherokee story of the Ani Gutani (ᎠᏂᎫᏔᏂ), a priestly caste said to have been overthrown sometime before major European intrusion into Cherokee country, perhaps during the early eighteenth century. The fall of the Ani Gutani was probably the last step in the Cherokee transition from Mississippian chiefdom to their much freer societies of the late eighteenth century.

In an 1866 article by ethnologist D. J. MacGowan, relying on the account of J. B. Evans (who lived a while with the Cherokees), says of the Ani Gutani:

The Nicotani were a mystical religious body, of whom the people stood in great awe, and seem to have been somewhat like the Brahmins of India. By what means they attained their ascendancy, or how long it was maintained, can never be ascertained. Their extinction by massacre is nearly all that can be discovered concerning them. They became haughty, insolent, over-bearing and licentious to an intolerable degree. Relying on their hereditary privileges and the strange awe which they inspired, they did not hesitate by fraud or violence to rend asunder the tender relations of husband and wife when a beautiful woman excited their passions. The people long brooded in silence over the oppressions and outrages of this high caste, whom they deeply hated, but greatly feared. At length a daring young man, a member of an influential family, organized a conspiracy among the people for the massacre of the priesthood. The immediate provocation was the abduction of the wife of the young leader of the conspiracy. His wife was remarkable for her beauty, and was forcibly abducted and violated by one of the Nicotani while he was absent on the chase. On his return he found no difficulty in exciting in others the resentment which he himself experienced. So many had suffered in the same way – so many feared that they might be made to suffer – that nothing was wanted but a leader. A leader appearing in the person of the young brave whom we have named, the people rose under his direction and killed every Nicotani, young and old. Thus perished a hereditary secret society, since which time no hereditary privileges have been tolerated among the Cherokees.​

And Charles R. Hicks, a mixed-race Cherokee chief, says:

These Auh ne coo tauh nie, or Proud, – profess themselves, as is stated by tradition to be teachers of Heavenly knowledge from the Creation; and the manner of their introduction to the assembled people is represented to have been usually at night times and when he approached near them the light of their fires were extinguished, as it was well known to them when he came near, by frequently repeating the words Cul, lungh, lut, tee Tauh, che, lo, eh. (I am come from above); and after been [sic] seated on [a seat] which had previously been prepared for him or them, then their fires were rekindled again; but there is no account given in what kind of a discourse was given to the people at such meetings; and that this order of men had exercised their offices to an extent that it became disagreeable and oppressive to the people: for that their demands were to be complied with, be their nature what they may; who were dreaded been [sic] considered to be bearer[s of] the heavenly message; that at last their power was enhalienenated [sic] by the nation.​
 
Another wonderful update!

So a new stage in the history of the Mississippians is entered in the 14th century, just like IOTL, only ITTL complex polities maintain themselves (and probably develop post OTL stages) on the coast, entering a phase of permanent conflict with the hinterland (and each other)?
 
Entry 19: Mesoamerican warfare, c. 1200-1350
OCC: This is both background for and expands on Entry 11.

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From “An Introduction to the Evolution of High American Warfare,” paper by Huan Cipactli.

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Noble warrior with shield and mācuahuitl​

In the absence of cavalry, Mesoamerican battles on the open field always started with an exchange of projectile weapons and culminated in a clash of melee infantry.

In 1200, the typical Mesoamerican army probably began the engagement with a volley of slingstones and arrows. As the armies approached each other, the sling and the bow were replaced with throwing spears, hurled to great distances with the aid of an atlatl (a type of spear-thrower). When the two armies met face-to-face, the atlatl too was abandoned and the hand-to-hand combat phase was entered, with soldiers defending themselves with shields and attacking with bladed clubs, thrusting spears, and knives with wooden handles. As the two armies met, the threat of friendly fire made massed volleys unfeasible and archers and slingers shifted to attacking individual enemy troops. The average well-equipped frontline soldier thus came with four weapons: the atlatl in the right hand for the early stages of battle, a bladed club or thrusting spear in the left for melee combat, a light rounded shield strapped to the arm, and a knife carried in the left armband to draw at a moment’s notice.

The bow was a relatively new weapon on the Mesoamerican battlefield in 1200. With their ease of use and high rate of fire, and because arrows could be fired far more densely than slingstones, the bow outcompeted older ranged weapons like the sling. The bladed club – a club studded with obsidian blades to pierce the skin when it hit – was also somewhat of a rarity in 1200.

Most troops did not wear armor, even the elite, and the majority did not even use shields. The few who did wore thick quilted cotton armor, whether it was a full body suit or simply padding on their left arms.

There were few standing armies, and war had to be carried out according to the rhythms of the agricultural season. In Central Mexico, for example, the crop was planted in late April or May and harvested in early autumn, sometimes as late as October or early November. The agricultural season coincided with the rainy season from May to September, which made roads impassable and rivers unfordable. Major campaigns thus had to begin in late November (usually in the month of Pānquetzaliztli, aptly meaning “Raising of Banners,” from November 20 to December 9) and conclude by April.

Things changed significantly in the next century and a half. In the domain of ranged warfare, the Central American arrow poison curare was introduced with devastating effect. (Mesoamerica had never before known poisoned weapons.) The natural response was to improve defense to prevent the arrows from piercing the skin. By 1350, armies tried to equip as many soldiers as they could afford with thick cotton jerkin jackets, cotton paddings on their limbs, and wooden helmets. Cotton production was at an all-time high, but even so, it was simply impossible for most rulers to equip all their troops with armor. It was thus the armies of the larger polities that could procure large quantities of both curare and cotton that benefited.

Armies on the battlefield became slower with their cotton, making the launching of projectiles more important. Slings were particularly prominent, as most of the damage they caused came from the shock of impact, something unpreventable by cotton armor, unlike arrow wounds.

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Ceremonial mācuahuitl

In melee warfare, the mācuahuitl rose to prominence. An extension of the earlier bladed club, the mācuahuitl was more than a meter long and had obsidian blades glued to grooves carved on all sides. As a weapon capable of dealing great damage by slashing and not simply crushing, the mācuahuitl was superior to the club and quickly supplanted it as the Mesoamerican hand-to-hand weapon of choice.

Logistics were transformed by Mesoamerica’s embrace of the sea. The supply of armies was traditionally an immensely difficult task for Mesoamericans; their only beasts of burden were humans, whose failure to digest grass makes them terribly inefficient. But with cargo ships, vast armies could be supplied securely so long as there was food in the homeland and the troops remained close enough to the shore. And ships could transport not only food, but soldiers too – and with the transport of thousands of men by boat, the old border defenses lost much of their relevancy along the coast.

Naval warfare was not yet significant as of 1350.

The commercial prosperity of the period allowed the formation of small mercenary companies fed by the corn in the royal granaries, a truly revolutionary development that allowed richer kingdoms to take the war to the agricultural season. There were few states that had the population to resist a major attack during harvest season. And because the mercenaries’ lifestyle depended on easy transportation of large numbers of men, it was only natural that they would be present primarily on the coast.

These changes in Mesoamerican warfare generally benefited the larger, coastal states who could make cotton armor, poison their arrows, construct immense warships, and raise mercenaries. The fourteenth century would see political consolidation in most areas of coastal Mesoamerica as well…​

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A "short sword"?

The description of Mesoamerican warfare in c. 1200 draws mainly from the relevant chapter in Ross Hassig’s War and Society in Ancient Mesoamerica. The main difference is that Hassig believed that early Postclassic armies favored a weapon he referred to as a “short sword,” a kind of curved stick (see image above, from Geib 2017) with grooves in it where he thought obsidian blades were embedded. This short sword, Hassig thought, evolved into the Aztec mācuahuitl. Such curved sticks are attested both in art and archaeology, but the “short sword” theory was never fully accepted, and a 2017 paper by archaeologist Phil R. Geib in Ancient Mesoamerica shows that, while we still don’t know what exactly the curved sticks were supposed to do, they clearly weren’t swords.

For c. 1350, the prominence of the mācuahuitl (which, as emblematic as it is of popular perceptions of Mesoamerican warfare, is an extremely new weapon perhaps not two hundred years old when Columbus arrived) is taken from actual Aztec warfare, on which the definitive source is Hassig’s 1995 Aztec Warfare: Imperial Expansion and Political Control. The other things – arrow poison, more widespread armor, logistics, mercenaries – are all TTL only, though the Postclassic Maya did IOTL have a class of warriors called the holcan who fought for pay. It's the holcan and their descendants who form the nucleus of TTL's Mesoamerican mercenaries.
 
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After days of catching up, I've finally reached the present update! What an amazing timeline, and the details you've crafted on Pre-Colombian civilizations are astounding!
 
So captured warfare in meoamwrica is dead?
No, not really. As of 1350, there actually aren't that many differences between TTL warfare and OTL Aztec warfare when it comes to the actual battlefield. You do have curare and more widespread cotton armor, but the increased lethality of one is to a significant degree counteracted by the enhanced protection offered by the other, especially for the well-armored noblemen who make the best sacrifices. And the underlying ideology of warfare hasn't changed dramatically. The use of ships and mercenaries has to do more with logistics than the battles themselves, and the mercenaries themselves are likely to be fervent devotees of specific war gods eager for sacrifice.
 
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