Mesa Verde National Park - Fortresses and Cliffs

Villages of Stone
A series of droughts blighted the end of the 11th century, and during this time the people began abandoning their clan houses and moving farther north on the mesas, where rainfall was heavier. Here they no longer built the rowhouses of the past, but erected stone buildings three and four stories high, and they built them in groups -- planned communities where several clans coexisted. As the years went on and these villages grew, the stonework became more sophisticated, careful, and precise. Rather than using great dollops of mud to mortar the spaces between random-sized stones, masons invented a technique of chipping large stones into rectangular blocks. Their tools were stone hammers, and the resultant dimpled surface is another hallmark of the Mesa Verde culture.

Although we have found no evidence of warfare between communities or large-scale raids by outsiders, the villages became decidedly fortresslike. Their outer walls were doorless, windowless, and sometimes of double thickness. The houses they enclosed faced open courtyards where kivas were still the central focus.

In the kivas -- formalized echos of the distant past -- farmers prayed for rain when there was none. When rain fell, they prayed that it would be enough to nourish their corn, beans, and squash, and that there would be an overflow to run into the reservoirs begun by their forebears. Check dams were built on the mesas in increasing numbers, and seeps and springs along canyon walls were cleaned and enlarged.

In many important ways, the Anasazi of Mesa Verde were not unlike the Anasazi who built communities in other areas of the Colorado Plateau over the course of these same centuries. But in the late 12th century, they came to a group decision that sets them apart. They began to build intricate cities of stone in alcoves along the steep walls of the canyons that slice between the tablelands where they had lived for so long.

The Cliff Houses
For their new home sites, many of the Mesa Verde residents moved from open areas on the mesa tops to sheltered areas in the cliffs below. They took advantage of whatever alcove was available regardless of its orientation. Perhaps the most sought-after alcoves faced south-southwest. The low winter sun would shine in, but not the overhead rays of summer. East-facing alcoves might have been second choices, since they received morning light in winter. Most of the alcoves are near the 7,000-foot level, several hundred feet above the canyon floors and a hundred feet or more below the mesa rim. Some of them could be reached only by means of handholds that the Anasazi painstakingly carved into sheer rock walls.

We may never know why so many of the Anasazi moved to the cliffs. They never developed a written language, and so nothing remains of personal thoughts and feelings. We can only imagine what political upheavels, religious promptings, social tensions, or outside threats might have caused such a group decision to be taken. But we do know what a tremendous effort must have been involved in bringing about this relocation.

The sloping floors of the alcoves had to be leveled. Stones had to be gathered and lowered from mesa rims or raised from canyon floors. Water had to be brought, a jug at a time, from springs and seeps to make mud for mortar. The dirt itself had to be carried, and so did the large logs that were used in construction. It was a labor of lifetimes -- we know that Cliff Palace was under construction for more than 70 years -- and all the while food had to be grown as before, meat had to be hunted, pottery had to be made, children had to be raised, and winter had to be survived.

Only slowly, as new quarters were completed, did the population, numbering perhaps 3,000 souls by now, move to the cliffs. By A.D. 1250 there were about a dozen large cliff dwellings -- varying in room count from 40 to 217 -- as well as several hundred one-family houses with 6 to 8 rooms and a kiva. Among the Anasazi, there were no palaces or special buildings set aside for the powerful or wealthy. All lived alike -- the religious leaders, the farmers, the pottery makers, hunters, and weavers.

During the warm summers, when men wore only loincloths and women small aprons, the multilevel courtyards of the cliff houses must have been busy, noisy places, the activities of many families overlapping. Children, dogs, and turkeys were everywhere. Some boys might be mixing mortar or plaster to cover walls that needed repair. Women were working outdoors at their many tasks, and men were coming and going with building materials, game from hunting expeditions, crops from the fields above, and firewood from the canyons below.

Life was more complicated than ever. Every year it took more work and more land to produce the same crops from soil that was depleted after centuries of use. Many of the strongest and ablest workers were involved in construction. Wood gatherers had to go farther and farther from home to find winter fuel. Toward the end of the period, some architecture became more slapdash, the rocks irregular and rough-hewn, their surfaces less carefully dimpled, as though the builders were wearying of their long task.

Pottery -- still the Anasazi's primary craft -- had become more diverse. Attractive and functional, it was a good trade item. One community, Mug House, gets its name from a form of pottery common in Mesa Verde, the heavy handled mug. In addition, shallow bowls, large narrow-necked jars, spoonlike ladles -- all decorated with intricate geometric patterns in the traditional Mesa Verde black on white -- have been found over a wide area in the ruins of many cultures.

By winter, when tremendous piles of dry wood stood in front of houses, if enough materials of all types had been gathered and stored, there would be little reason to venture out into the deep snow. Mornings were cold, but afternoons, when the sun's rays showered down on the houses and courtyards, were probably pleasant. Men gathered in kivas, trying to ensure next season's success. But hard times were coming.

In the summer of A.D. 1276 it quit raining, and no appreciable rain fell during the next 23 summers. Depleted soil became dust in the hot wind, and wild plants withered along with the crops. Nothing that could be done in the kivas seemed to help. By A.D. 1300, when the rain began to fall again, the canyons and tablelands were deserted.

We can only speculate why the people of Mesa Verde left the homeland of their ancestors. Part of it might have been the drought. After hundreds of years of intensive use the land and its resources could have been depleted. Perhaps the climate became cooler, shortening the growing season and interfering with successful harvests. Their trade with Mexico could have evaporated. Because they left no written history, there is much we cannot know about them. But we know that they were human beings like ourselves, who dreamed and worked to make their dreams reality. And knowing this, we marvel at their accomplishments.