Pizarro’s fears of the Council of the Indies were more than justified
by the events which followed the departure of the Emperor for Italy.
For more than six months the restless adventurer was forced to cool his
heels in the anteroom of the council chamber. And with each day his
slender means sank under the strain of his expenses and futile efforts
at bribery.
He thought of Molina with vague misgivings. He thought of Almagro with
distinct and painful fears. The impulsive firebrand had more than once
threatened to organize an expedition of his own and defy all authority
until the deed was done. He had sworn they would all then fight to
recognize such an achievement. And if Almagro once got the ships and
the men, he might elude the opposition, do the great deed and achieve
the immortality Pizarro had dreamed for himself.
The more he thought it over, and the longer the delay, the more
unbearable became the strain.
Again he found himself in a position where he must risk all by a leap
over the heads of petty officials to the source of power. He dreaded
the chance of mishap but had to face it. If he appealed to the Queen
and she referred him back to the Council, they would drive him out of
Toledo. The Emperor was now in Austria recruiting an army for war on
the Sultan, and had forgotten the llamas and the golden vessels.
He decided to appeal to the Queen. And in spite of his fears, her
gracious young Majesty received him cordially and expressed surprise
at the delay of the Council of the Indies. She immediately ordered the
execution of the capitulations with Pizarro defining his office, powers
and privileges in Peru. They were generous beyond his wildest hopes.
The royal charter granted the right of discovery and conquest in the
province of Peru which was to be called New Castile. He was made
the governor and captain general of the province with the title of
Adelantado and Alquacil Mayor for life, at a handsome salary. He was
given the right to build fortresses and govern them, to assign Indians
to labor under the provision of law and exercise all the powers and
prerogatives of a Viceroy of the Crown.
Almagro was made commander of the fortress of Tumbez with the rank and
privilege of an hidalgo. Father Luque was made Bishop of Tumbez and
Protector of the Indians in Peru.
All salaries were to be drawn from the revenues of the conquered
territory. The conquerors must, in short, pay their own expenses and
give the Crown one-fifth of their spoils.
Ruiz received the title of Grand Pilot of the Southern Seas, de
Candia was made Commander of the Artillery and the remaining
faithful followers on the Island of Gallo were made hidalgos and
_cavalieros_.
Pizarro protested at the unequal distribution of honors between himself
and his partner, Almagro. But the Council was obdurate in refusing to
divide authority. Such division had always been a source of jealousy
and bitterness. Pizarro was compelled to take all or allow a court
favorite from Toledo to take his place. So he risked the wrath of
Almagro and accepted the honors.
The charter provided that Pizarro should obey the Spanish laws of
good government and the protection of the native populations. He was
ordered to carry in his expedition of conquest a required number of
ecclesiastics devoted to the service and conversion of the Indians.
With these churchmen he agreed to confer on all important questions of
policy and the conduct of government.
In order to make good the charter he was required within six months to
raise and equip a force of two hundred and fifty soldiers which the
Crown agreed to arm. All other expenses were to be borne by Pizarro and
his associates. He must be prepared within six months of his arrival at
Panama to sail on his expedition.
The adventurer was honored with the habit of Santiago and authorized to
claim armorial bearings.
On receiving his papers under the great seal of the Crown, he hastened
to his native town of Truxillo. Here he had grown, among scenes of
squalor and poverty whose memories were burned into his soul. Here he
had lived, a miserable outcast, without the love of father or mother,
suffering at times the pangs of hunger. And yet the heart of the
man, now fifty-five years old, turned fondly back to the home of his
childhood. There was something of stern pride in his desire to show his
appointment as a viceroy of the Emperor Charles V to the people who had
once looked on him as the veriest trash. There was more of boyish pride
in his home and a genuine desire to lead its people to fame and fortune
under his banner.
He sought at once his brothers and found them all eager to enlist.
Three of these brothers were also illegitimate. Francis Martin de
Alcantara was related to him by the mother’s side only. Two others,
Gonzalo and Juan Pizarro, were descended from his father’s side. They
were all poor and proud as they were poor, and their eagerness for gain
was in proportion to their poverty.
Hernando, his older brother, was a legitimate son, a man of fine
figure, repulsive features, and violent character. Arrogant, proud,
jealous and revengeful, he soon acquired over Francisco an influence
that was to have its effect on the expedition. Pathetic was the love
which Francisco bore these men who had not given to him a thought since
he disappeared from Truxillo a quarter of a century before!
In the late spring of 1530 their squadron of three vessels anchored
at Nombre de Dios on the Isthmus of Panama. Here Pizarro found his
associates Luque and Almagro impatiently awaiting his long-delayed
arrival.
When the little one-eyed man heard the provision of the charter which
gave to his partner all the honor and powers of government, his fury
was boundless. He openly taxed Pizarro with treachery.
“Am I nothing as compared with you?” he shouted. “Am I thus to be
dishonored before the world as your lackey and not your equal? Did we
not both swear on the missal in the Church at Panama to share alike in
both the perils and rewards of the enterprise? Yet in spite of your
solemn oath you put this shame upon me!”
Pizarro was deeply distressed at the anger of his partner. He sought
with all his powers of persuasion to explain his apparent betrayal of
trust. He swore to Almagro that he was forced to choose the supreme
power for himself or see it pass to a vain, incompetent favorite of the
Court who would have ruled them both. He slipped his arm around the
little man, led him aside and begged him to be calm.
“Don’t forget, my partner,” he pleaded, “that my honors are yours as
well as mine. I seized them as a sacred trust for us both. All that I
have will ever be yours for the asking.”
Almagro’s quick temper responded to this assurance and the quarrel
would have been healed but for the stupid and arrogant interference
of Hernando Pizarro. From the moment of their first meeting the
venomous older brother had shown his scorn for the one-eyed
adventurer. Almagro’s claims were scouted as ridiculous and he was
held a contemptible impediment to Francisco’s career. This attitude
Almagro resented with a violence that boded ill for the future of the
enterprise. His friends, and they were many, heartily joined him in
his hatred of Hernando.
On the way across the Isthmus to Panama the breach widened. The
overbearing conduct of the leader’s brother was a thing not to be
endured by veterans of the wilderness. Francisco Pizarro’s apparent
betrayal of trust was enough without the insults of his vain, brutal
brother.
At Panama, Almagro announced his break with the Pizarros, and began
the purchase of ships and recruiting of men for an expedition of his
own. Luque and Espinosa now rushed into the breach that must be healed
at all hazards or the enterprise would be lost and a rival step in
to reap the fruit of six years’ suffering and toil. A working truce
was patched up between the partners. Pizarro agreed to surrender to
Almagro the honor and dignity of Adelantado, and petition the Emperor
to confirm his rival in the office. He promised to apply for a separate
government for Almagro the moment he should be established in his. He
also solemnly agreed to give no office to either of his brothers until
his partner was satisfied.
“Come, man,” he pleaded, “the empire we seek is big enough for all.”
The little man was ready to give his hand in full reconciliation with
his veteran associate when his one eye rested on Hernando Pizarro’s
dark sneering face and he was in the air again. He finally accepted the
promises of Francisco when the controversy between the three associates
was rewritten. The spoils should be divided into three equal shares,
after the fifth interest of the Crown had been deducted, one share for
Francisco Pizarro, one for Diego de Almagro and one for Father Luque
representing Espinosa.
But the final healing touch was given by Teresa’s soft hand. She led
Almagro to a seat overlooking the Bay of Panama and pleaded with him
through her tears.
“You like my Alonso, do you not, Captain?” she asked earnestly.
“As fine a young cavalier as ever came out of Spain!” was the quick
answer.
“Then you will have pity on the girl who loves him and sail without
delay. He has been there alone for more than two years--”
Almagro’s one eye glittered as a smile played about his rugged face. He
rose and bowed low before her.
“Your tears are all that’s needed, dear lady. I’ll shake hands with
the old pirate once more, hold my nose when his brother draws near and
sail to find your sweetheart. I’d have done it anyhow in the end urged
by your brother and Father Luque. Now, I’ll show you how quick I am in
action.”
He was good as his word. The ships were found quickly. The vessels at
Nombre de Dios on the Atlantic were sold at a good price and three were
provided at Panama to take their places.
But the quarrel of the partners and the continued opposition of the
governor had rendered recruiting difficult.
Rios feared the man who was now viceroy.
Instead of a fleet of big ships and five thousand men of which Molina
had dreamed, Pizarro commanded three small vessels and only 180 men,
with twenty-seven horses. He left Almagro to follow with more ships
and men, and boldly sailed early in January, 1531, for the coast of
Peru. With this small force he would begin operations and trust to the
reports he would send back, for recruits.
On the second day out Pizarro was amazed to see standing before him
in his cabin a slender youth dressed in a shimmering coat of mail. He
gazed for a moment in surprise unable to place the name or features of
his young soldier.
A low ripple of laughter betrayed her sex and the chief recognized
Teresa. He leaped up in anger and alarm.
“What madness is this, Donna Teresa!” he exclaimed.
“The same madness which I have caught from you, Your Excellency,” the
slender knight replied.
The grizzled veteran smiled at the first royal salutation which he had
yet received. He had not fully realized that he was now sailing the
Southern Sea, in his own domain and a viceroy of Charles V.
“Your brother to whom we owe so much will follow and give me trouble
for this, dear lady.”
“Nonsense. My brother knows that good Queen Isabel rode to battle with
King Ferdinand. My coat of mail is patterned precisely after the one
she wore as she sat her horse beside the King. I like your high spirit
of adventure, Your Excellency. I’ll ride with your Castilian horse,
and my only complaint will be that we are so slow. Because, Your
Excellency, I go to my lover, and women on journeys of love laugh at
danger, flout the elements, and challenge death itself. So lead me, my
Pizarro; our destinies are cast.”
And the conquistador smiled in admiration as the little fleet flew
southward.