THE SPANISH DISCOVERY AND INVASION UNDER PIZARRO
[Illustration: ANCIENT STREET OF CUZCO.]
While the empire of the Incas was approaching the zenith of its
greatness in America, Spain was extending the power and prestige of the
House of Austria throughout Europe under the sovereignty of the Emperor
Charles V. And the proud dynasty of the Hapsburgs, whose double-headed
eagle was destined to obscure the Sun of Tahuantinsuyo and to efface the
sacred Rainbow in its shadow, did not represent a more exalted royalty
in the Old World than did that of Manco-Ccapac in the New. There are
even some points of resemblance between the two monarchies, so remotely
separated in origin and traditions. In Peru, as in Spain, the army and
the Church were the only occupations worthy of the nobility; in both
countries, wars of conquest were fought in the name of religion, with
the emblem of salvation in one hand and that of destruction in the
other,—the Inca with the golden disk and the catapult, the Spaniard with
the Cross and the sword; and both led their armies against the infidel
with the determination to destroy his idols and to establish the true
worship.
However much we may condemn the method of the Spanish conquerors, their
mission was not altogether mercenary in its purpose. It is not strange
that the yellow metal dimmed their consciences when it blazed before
their eyes on the temples of Mexico and Peru; yet, even then, as
Prescott says: “In the motives of action, meaner influences were
strangely mingled with the loftier, the temporal with the spiritual.”
The hardy and romantic adventurers who followed in the wake of Columbus
were not merely sordid gold hunters; they were the descendants of
soldiers who had for centuries fought in the holy wars of the Cross
against the Crescent, and in their veins flowed the blood of the
knight-errant and the crusader. Gold they sought with eagerness and
without scruple; but they wanted glory almost as much as they wanted
gold, and in the pursuit of both, they carried aloft the banner of the
Church, and sought the blessing of its ministers. As soon as a newly
discovered land was taken possession of in the name of the King of
Spain, the Cross was elevated in token of the triumph of Christianity.
Columbus erected the Cross in Hispaniola, and Cortés followed up his
victory over the Aztecs with their forcible conversion to the true
faith. In Peru, a less pious discoverer than Columbus and a more
ruthless invader than Cortés employed the sacred office of the priest to
aid him in accomplishing an act of treachery so odious that it dims the
glory of his conquest and places him below the standard even of mediæval
adventurers.
Francisco Pizarro, a native of Trujillo in Spain, began life under all
the disadvantages which are the lot of the illegitimate child, but
which, in many instances, school him in a discipline so rigorous that as
he grows to manhood he becomes thoroughly inured to hardship and is able
to dominate the greatest misfortune and to achieve success in the face
of the most discouraging obstacles. Such a discipline is hardly likely
to develop the softer virtues; and, as the young Pizarro received no
care,—either from his father, who was a distinguished colonel under El
Gran Capitan, or from his mother, a humble peasant,—as he was never
taught to read or to write, and spent his boyhood tending swine, it is
not difficult to imagine what extraordinary influences must have moulded
his character, and transformed the swineherd of Trujillo into the
fearless soldier of fortune, known to history as the cruel, rapacious,
and perfidious, though consummately daring, Conqueror of Peru.
The first news of Pizarro as an adventurer in the New World is found in
the record of a disastrous expedition fitted out at Hispaniola for the
purpose of colonization; a few years later he is heard from in
connection with the more successful undertaking led by Balboa, with whom
Pizarro crossed the Isthmus of Panamá, when that celebrated adventurer
discovered the Pacific Ocean. Up to that time, Pizarro, who was then
fifty years of age, had won neither gold nor glory as a reward for his
ambition. In 1522, an expedition, which had been sent southward by the
governor of Panamá, returned with wonderful stories of the wealth and
grandeur of a kingdom that was supposed to lie behind the great range of
the Andes. Pizarro became interested and communicated his enthusiasm to
Diego de Almagro, an adventurer like himself, a native of Castile, and a
foundling. These two enterprising explorers were joined by a third,
named Hernando de Luque, a priest, who furnished most of the funds for
the expedition which it was agreed they would undertake, to search for
the land of treasure. After great reverses and his desertion by many
famished followers on the barren Island of Gallo, Pizarro reached
Tumbes, on the southern shore of the Gulf of Guayaquil, where he found a
populous settlement, rich in temples and palaces ornamented with gold
and silver, and inhabited by a kind and hospitable people. The natives
told the Spaniards that a great and powerful prince ruled over all this
country, whose capital lay behind the mountains and was a city of far
greater wealth and splendor than anything they had yet seen. Could any
news be more welcome to the little band of adventurers in search of this
very treasure? After cruising southward past the present city of
Trujillo, at which they also disembarked for a short stay, and finding
everywhere proofs that they had reached the shores of an opulent
kingdom, the expedition turned northward again toward Panamá; for
Pizarro realized that it would be impossible to attempt the conquest of
such a country with a mere dozen of followers. On their way, they called
again at Tumbes, where a native boy, named Felipillo, was taken on board
to accompany Pizarro to Panamá, so that he might learn the Spanish
language and serve as interpreter when the discoverers should return to
his country to conquer it.
[Illustration: RUINS OF AN INCA’S PALACE.]
[Illustration: THE ANDENES, OR ARTIFICIAL TERRACES, CULTIVATED UNDER THE
INCAS.]
When Pizarro arrived in Panamá, he found the governor not at all
disposed to help him; but, with the aid of his faithful comrades,
Almagro and Father Luque, he was provided with funds to go to Spain and
plead his cause with the king, it being understood that if he succeeded
in getting the royal authorization and protection, he would secure the
office of Adelantado for Almagro and that of Bishop of Tumbes for Father
Luque. Pizarro was well received at the Court of Spain, where Cortés had
recently arrived to present the empire of Mexico to his royal master.
The Council of the Indies, which had charge of all matters relating to
Spain’s possessions in the New World, gave him a grant authorizing him
to make discoveries and conquests in Peru for two hundred leagues
southward from the river Santiago, near the northern border of the
present republic of Ecuador. Pizarro received the rank and titles of
Governor and Captain-general of the province, and the offices of
Adelantado and Chief Magistrate for life with a large salary; he was
also made a Knight of Santiago and was given permission to use his
father’s coat-of-arms with symbols of his own conquest added. Upon his
return to Panamá, he tried to explain to Almagro the reason why he had
accepted all the high offices for himself, but his comrade found it hard
to forgive what he considered an injury done to him by a friend he had
trusted, and an estrangement followed, which was never overcome,
especially as Pizarro’s brothers, Hernando and Gonzalo, who accompanied
him back from Spain, did everything to widen the breach.
[Illustration: SEATS CUT IN SOLID STONE, AT KENKO, NEAR CUZCO.]
In January, 1531, Pizarro and his followers embarked again for Peru.
Before leaving Panamá, the banners of the company and the royal standard
of Spain were consecrated in the Cathedral, mass was performed, and the
sacrament was administered to every soldier. The expedition consisted of
only two hundred men and twenty-seven horses, a small force for so
ambitious an undertaking; but the courageous adventurer had come to
believe so thoroughly in the destiny which held in store for him the
glory of conquering that great kingdom, of whose extent and riches he
had already been permitted the first glimpse, that no power on earth
could have discouraged him in his enterprise; he was full of eager
enthusiasm when his ships sailed out of the harbor, bound for Tumbes,
which he considered the gateway to the Peruvian empire. On his way, he
made brief landings at various points, including the island of Puná in
the Guayaquil River, a few leagues north of the port of Tumbes on the
southern shore of the Gulf of Guayaquil. At Puná the soldiers of Spain
won a hard-fought battle over the fierce natives, during which, the
Spanish chronicler says: “St. Michael was seen to vanquish Satan in
mid-air.” Here the expedition awaited reinforcements, which soon
afterward arrived in two ships commanded by Hernando de Soto, and
consisted of a hundred volunteers as well as a number of cavalry horses;
with this added force, Pizarro proceeded southward to Tumbes, though he
found that recently flourishing city entirely depopulated and
demolished—by their enemies of Puná it was said—and he was obliged to
look for another site for his colony. He sent De Soto with troops to
explore the foothills of the Andes while he himself marched southward
along the plain for about thirty leagues, until he came to a rich valley
watered by several streams, which offered such advantages for settlement
that he sent for his troops to come on from Tumbes; here he founded the
first Spanish colony in Peru, calling it San Miguel in honor of his
victory at Puná; the settlement was removed later to the banks of the
Piura River, where the foundation of the present flourishing city of
Piura took place. During his march, Pizarro had passed thriving Indian
settlements, had been hospitably entertained by the natives and had
learned that the great ruler, in whose dominions he was travelling, was
at that moment only ten days’ journey from Piura. He was told the story
of the quarrel between Atahuallpa and Huascar and was informed that
Atahuallpa’s army had successfully invaded Cuzco and taken Huascar
prisoner; on that very day the victorious Inca was celebrating his
triumph in his camp at Cajamarca, whither he had gone to take the baths.
From the same source, Pizarro learned that the vanquished brother had
been imprisoned at Jauja, where one of the strongest fortresses of the
country was located. All this information was welcome to the Spanish
invader, who saw that the disunion of the empire was a condition greatly
in his favor in the proposed conquest; but he hoped, with all his heart,
that reinforcements would come from Panamá, as his army appeared
ridiculously small to attempt the subjugation of a rich and powerful
monarch, whose bodyguard was composed of the best and bravest of his
warriors, and numbered thousands. It is well said by the author of _The
Conquest of Peru_ that “if Pizarro had stopped to calculate chances, he
must inevitably have failed, as the odds were too great to be combated
reason.” But sober reason is very apt to lack the element of faith,
which is so powerful an agency in the conquest of empires—whether
national, social, or personal. Pizarro believed that he was destined by
heaven to accomplish this seemingly impossible task, and he adopted ways
and means which cautious reason would have condemned, in view of the
almost certain and disastrous consequences. Probably he was inspired by
Cortés’s capture of Montezuma when he planned his attack on Atahuallpa;
but, to one of his spirit and temperament, the means to the end could
hardly have failed, even without the Mexican Conqueror’s example, which,
by the way, he did not worthily imitate, as Cortés would have scorned to
use the unsoldierly tactics that Pizarro employed in the capture and
subsequent murder of the Inca.
[Illustration: ANCIENT BRIDGE OF SANTA TERESA, CUZCO.]
The prospect of getting reinforcements from Panamá appeared less and
less hopeful as the months passed, until finally Pizarro decided to
start on his daring enterprise with only the limited force then at his
command. Leaving fifty soldiers to guard the colony, he set out with one
hundred and eighty men, including sixty-seven cavalry troops, to attempt
a conquest which a more cautious commander would have undertaken only at
the head of a large army.
After journeying for several days without coming within sight of
Cajamarca, Pizarro sent Hernando de Soto to reconnoitre, and, a week
later, was delighted to see his comrade approaching the camp in company
with a personage of evident rank, who was attended by a considerable
retinue, and whom De Soto presented as an ambassador from the Inca
Atahuallpa. This distinguished messenger had come with his royal
master’s greeting to the strangers, and an invitation for them to visit
the Emperor’s camp at Cajamarca. Pizarro, through his interpreter,
Felipillo, made known to the ambassador his appreciation of the Inca’s
fine courtesy; at the same time, he gave strict orders that as long as
the ambassador remained in the Spanish camp he was to be treated with
all the respect due to the representative of a great and powerful
sovereign. When the Peruvian departed, he was charged to convey the
compliments of Pizarro to his royal master and to tell him that the
Spaniards were the subjects of a powerful prince, who ruled beyond the
sea; that they had heard of Atahuallpa’s prowess and had come to pay
their respects to His Majesty and to offer the service of their army
against the Inca’s enemies; and that they would wait upon the great
monarch with the least possible delay.
Having dismissed the Inca’s messenger, Pizarro resumed his march,
choosing the route which he had been advised to take in order to reach
Cajamarca as soon as possible. Embassies from the Inca continued to
arrive with presents of gold, silver and rich vicuña cloths, the
Spaniards sending in return ornaments of glass and other articles
brought from Europe for the purpose. As they ascended the slopes of the
great Andes, they observed that, instead of buildings of sun-dried
bricks, such as were seen in the coast valleys, the temples and palaces
were constructed of huge stones, taken from the solid rock, and so
wonderfully adjusted that not a knife blade could be inserted between
them, though no mortar was used in setting them.
In order to reach Cajamarca, it was necessary for Pizarro and his men to
cross the _cumbre_, or summit of the great Andean range, that rose
before them like an impassable barrier. They had to march through
treacherous defiles, where a mere handful of men in ambush could destroy
a whole army, and the experience was one to be remembered long
afterward; the sudden appearance of a huge fortress high up on the
mountain side, strong enough to defy a regiment and large enough to
shelter an army—the precipices that yawned in front of them at every
turn—the intense cold and rarity of the atmosphere in the high
altitude—were sources of constant fear and discomfort. But the Inca
permitted the invaders to advance without opposition; indeed, he
continued to send embassies to them every time they encamped on the way.
Was it an exaggerated idea of their exalted origin and power, or
absolute confidence in his own strength, or because the very audacity of
Pizarro was incredible, that Atahuallpa permitted the Spaniards to
advance on his encampment, when a small force could have prevented their
crossing the _cumbre_? Perhaps Atahuallpa yielded to curiosity and
permitted the Spaniard to visit his royal stronghold in order that he
and his nobles might study the _rara avis_, intending to capture the
invaders later, by surrounding them with his legions. The conquerors
afterward expressed the opinion that the Inca probably wished to find
out all about them, to have them explain the use of their weapons, etc.,
so that he might profit the more by their capture. One authority says:
“Atahuallpa was very wise and discreet, and, although without
enlightenment, yet a friend of knowledge, and possessing a subtle mind.”
[Illustration: AN INCAIC STREET, CUZCO.]
One of the severest tests of the courage of Pizarro came when he led his
little band out of the last defile of the mountains and saw, from the
eminence on which they stood, the beautiful valley of Cajamarca spread
before his gaze, radiant in the flush of summer time, with broad fields
showing the fruits of industrious husbandry, a prosperous little city
nestling just below, and farther away, at the other side of the valley,
on the sloping hillsides, the encampment of the Inca, apparently
sheltering a mighty host. A member of that bold little company naïvely
relates: “With a courageous countenance, after having thoroughly
surveyed the scene, we descended to the valley, and entered Cajamarca.”
One can easily imagine that behind the “courageous countenance” there
was much sinking of the heart, as the invaders made their way down the
mountain side! While they were descending, the sky became overcast, and
the sunlit valley took on a gloomy aspect. Ominous clouds obscured the
surrounding summits, which a few hours before had glistened like
steel-armored sentinels under the rays of the sun. It was as if the
breath of an unholy ambition had already poisoned the air and the
approaching spectre of crime had thrown its awful shadow across the
place of tragedy.
Pizarro and his band entered Cajamarca on the afternoon of November 15,
1532. They found themselves in a city of considerable size, apparently
the home of about ten thousand people, though, as the Spaniards rode
through its streets, no one came out to welcome them, and they
discovered that it had been entirely deserted by the inhabitants, “in
order to give better accommodation to the distinguished visitors of the
Inca,” as his messengers explained.
Impatient to know the nature of the reception he might expect from
Atahuallpa, Pizarro had no sooner entered Cajamarca than he sent
Hernando de Soto and his brother, Hernando Pizarro, to salute the Inca
and to invite him to dine on the following day, at the same time begging
that his majesty would let them know where they were to make their
headquarters. The Spanish envoys were accompanied by a bodyguard of
cavalry and made their appearance at the Inca’s camp in a sumptuous
manner, dressed in splendid armor and carrying themselves with the
arrogance and grace characteristic of the Castilian. They found the
sovereign in the courtyard of his royal quarters, where he received them
with such absence of demonstration that they were disconcerted and at a
loss to understand his extraordinary attitude. They rode up slowly until
within a few feet of the Inca, when, after making a respectful salute,
Hernando Pizarro repeated his brother’s message. Atahuallpa heard it
without giving the least sign of interest, without even a change of
expression; the only response came from one of his nobles, in the single
word “_Ari_,” which signified “It is well.” It was an embarrassing
moment and left Pizarro’s ambassadors totally ignorant of the Inca’s
intentions; but Hernando Pizarro was not of a disposition to accept such
a situation as final, and he again addressed the Indian sovereign,
requesting him to speak to them himself, explaining that he was
Pizarro’s brother and had come to learn from the Inca’s own lips what
was his royal pleasure. At this, Atahuallpa deigned to answer, with a
smile, that he was keeping a fast, which would end the following
morning, when he would be pleased to visit Pizarro; that, in the
meantime, his guests were to occupy the royal _tambo_, or inn, in the
great square of the city, “except the Hall of the Serpent, in the
midst,” which he reserved for his own use.
During their interview with Atahuallpa, the Spaniards had an excellent
opportunity to observe the Inca, who was seated on a cushion in the
midst of his nobles and the princesses of the royal household. The
monarch, who was thirty years of age, was of grave and kingly bearing,
and had handsome, well-cut features; he wore a simpler costume than his
courtiers, who were gorgeous in gayly ornamented attire; his crown was
the crimson _masca paicha_, which he had assumed with the sovereignty of
Cuzco, after his brother Huascar’s defeat. The appearance of the Inca,
his splendid court, his troops numbering fifty thousand men, the
evidences of great wealth, seen even in the large golden vessels from
which the Spaniards were invited to drink the _chicha_ offered by
Atahuallpa’s order—everything impressed Pizarro’s envoys with the
hopelessness of their scheme of conquest, and they returned to their
chief with gloomy faces.
But Pizarro refused to see, think or hear of anything but success, and
he trampled down every rising fear by the sheer force of his own
confidence and determination; that very night he unfolded his bold plan
of action—to make a sudden attack and seize the Inca in the midst of his
troops. Once in possession of the monarch, Pizarro knew that he could
dictate his own terms, for he had not been slow to recognize the sacred
character of the worship rendered by the Indians to their emperor of
celestial origin. Perhaps he had even calculated on the paralyzing
effect such an audacious and sacrilegious act as the seizure of the Inca
would have on a people completely held under the spell of their
sovereign’s great and transcendent glory. But it is hardly to be
supposed that he could have foreseen their utter prostration in the face
of the calamity he was preparing to visit upon them!
[Illustration: ENTRANCE TO AN INCAIC HOUSE.]
[Illustration: THE DEATH OF ATAHUALLPA. FROM A PAINTING BY THE PERUVIAN
ARTIST LUIS MONTERO.]