THE CONQUEST OF PERU
[Illustration: COAT-OF-ARMS OF PIZARRO GRANTED BY CHARLES V. IN HONOR OF
THE DISCOVERY OF PERU.]
The Conquest of Peru was not undertaken without a solemn appeal to
heaven, a ceremony which formed the prelude to all enterprises in those
days, of whatever character or purpose. Mass was performed by the
ecclesiastic, Vicente de Valverde, a Dominican friar, who had
accompanied the expedition, and whose share in the events of the
memorable day upon which they were now entering is only to be excused on
the score of over-passionate zeal. During the religious service, the
priest and his assistants invoked the divine aid in behalf of the
soldiers of the Cross who were fighting to establish the Christian
faith; and _Exsurge, Domine_ was chanted with all the enthusiasm that
the most devoted band of Crusaders would have shown on the eve of a
battle with the Moors; the heritage of blood is strong, and in the
exaltation of that moment, it is certain that the baser motives of the
premeditated onslaught were submerged under a tide of religious
emotions. But it is doubtful whether Pizarro allowed the religious side
of the campaign to occupy his mind any further than was required by the
temperament and spirit of his followers; he knew his men, and governed
them through their strongest impulses, which he could control only by
apparent sympathy.
Nothing was left undone in the preparations for capturing the Inca.
Cavalry and infantry were stationed in great halls or barracks that
opened on to the plaza through wide doors, which were to remain closed
until a given signal. The confusing effect of a sudden surprise and
unaccustomed sights and sounds had been carefully studied by Pizarro,
who had two small pieces of ordnance placed in the fortress, and all the
horses adorned with bells on their breastplates. It was understood that
on the firing of the first gun, the whole army should rush into the
plaza with their battle-cry: “Santiago, and at them!” and, after
overpowering and killing the Inca’s guard, they were to capture the
emperor himself and carry him to Pizarro’s quarters.
As if to further the treacherous plan of Pizarro, the Inca sent his
ambassador to say that he would leave the greater part of his army
behind and would enter Cajamarca without arms. A little before sunset
the royal procession began to enter the gates of the city. First came
the army of menials who were employed to clear the pathway of all
obstacles, as was always done in the royal progresses which the Inca was
accustomed to make throughout his kingdom; following these came the
heralds announcing the approach of their sovereign, the nobles and
princes of the blood royal, and lastly the Inca, surrounded by his
bodyguard and a few of his soldiers, all unarmed. The royal palanquin
was lined with the rich plumes of tropical birds and studded with plates
of gold and silver; the monarch, seated on a throne of solid gold, was
magnificently attired, and wore a collar of very large and brilliant
emeralds.
As the great procession entered the plaza of Cajamarca and divided into
two ranks to allow the royal retinue to pass between, the Inca observed
that not a Spaniard was to be seen, and inquired what had become of
them. At this moment Father Valverde stepped into the square, with a
crucifix in one hand and a Bible in the other, and approaching the Inca,
told him that he was there by order of his commander to expound to him
the true faith, for which purpose the Spaniards had come to his country.
He then explained to Atahuallpa the basis of the Christian faith, the
doctrine of the Trinity, and the origin of the Roman Catholic hierarchy,
telling him that the pope had given the Spanish sovereign the right to
conquer and convert the natives of the western hemisphere, and that
Pizarro had arrived to carry out this mission; he concluded by
beseeching the Inca to embrace Christianity and acknowledge himself a
vassal of the Emperor Charles V., who would, in that case, aid and
protect him. Atahuallpa listened to Valverde’s harangue as interpreted
by Felipillo, at first showing only curiosity, then scorn and, finally,
fierce indignation, as the import of its meaning dawned upon him. His
brow darkened with anger when he learned that he was asked to become the
vassal of another, and he exclaimed: “I am the greatest prince on earth,
and will be vassal to none; as for the Pope of whom you speak, he cannot
give away countries which do not belong to him; and as your God was put
to death by the human beings he created, I will not have him in exchange
for mine, who lives there in the heavens and watches over his children!
Where did you learn these things?” Valverde handed him the Bible, which
the monarch looked at as nothing to be admired, either in material or
appearance; he threw it on the ground in disgust, and told the priest to
inform his companions that they would be called to account for all the
evil they had done in his dominions.
The Inca was about to give a royal command to his messengers, when
Valverde, scandalized by the heathen’s contempt for the sacred volume,
and realizing that the effort to convert Atahuallpa had resulted only in
incensing the Inca so that the lives of the Spaniards were in imminent
danger, called out to Pizarro to “waste no more breath on the heathen
reprobate,” exclaiming with all the fervor of the frenzied fanatic:
_Salid á él—que yo os absuelvo!_ “Take him,—I absolve you all!”
[Illustration: FRANCISCO PIZARRO, CONQUEROR OF PERU AND FOUNDER OF
LIMA.]
Valverde thus gave the first signal of attack; Pizarro then waved a
white kerchief and the gun boomed its fateful command from the fortress.
In an instant the Spaniards poured into the plaza, yelling their
battle-cry, while the guns kept up a deafening noise; the horses plunged
into the terror-stricken ranks of the Inca’s attendants, trampling
hundreds under their iron hoofs; both infantry and cavalry wrought havoc
with their swords, and the plaza—a few minutes before brilliant with the
splendor and gaiety of a royal train, come to honor the stranger and
accept his proffered hospitality—became a scene of carnage and death, a
horrible spectacle, though welcome enough to the treacherous host, whose
invitation had been given with this very object in view.
It is not strange that panic seized the followers of Atahuallpa when the
Spaniards made their murderous onslaught, unaccustomed as the Indians
were to the sound and smoke of the cannon, the sight of rearing,
prancing steeds, and the glitter of the long, sharp swords, which the
bearded “palefaces” used with such deadly effect. The Inca’s nobles
pressed closely around the royal litter, sheltering their beloved
sovereign until cut down by the assailants, when their places were
immediately filled by others. His faithful attendants sought to force
back the cavaliers by clinging to their saddles and trying to unhorse
them, never loosening their grip until the cruel blade of the Spaniard
put an end to their pitiful efforts. So persistently did the brave
nobles interpose themselves between the enemy and the sacred person of
their sovereign that it seemed impossible for Pizarro’s men to secure
their prize; and some of his officers would have taken the Inca’s life
to prevent his eluding them, had it not been for Pizarro’s command, “Let
no one harm the Inca on peril of his life!” Finally, as the fierce
struggle closed in around the royal palanquin, and one after another of
those who bore it aloft was slain, it was overturned, the monarch being
saved from a fall by Pizarro, who caught him in his arms.
What irony of fate! The stranger whom Atahuallpa had permitted to come
to the very threshold of his royal palace, without offering any
hindrance; who had declared his mission to be one of peace, and had
offered the service of his arms against the royal enemies; who had
invited the Inca to eat at his table, a courtesy to which the monarch
responded in a truly royal spirit by presenting himself unarmed to
accept the hospitality;—this stranger had first insulted him through the
mouth of his priest; had then attacked the invited guest, who was
entirely defenceless; had turned all the force of unfamiliar arms
against a panic-stricken multitude and needlessly butchered them; and,
finally, had made the monarch his prisoner by catching him in his arms,
as a Spaniard’s sword pierced the heart of the monarch’s last faithful
protector!
The sequel to the Inca’s capture is well known. Apparently, the
unfortunate victim did not at first comprehend what had passed, and it
is related by one of the conquerors that, when conveyed to the royal
_tambo_, where he dined with Pizarro the evening of the tragedy,
according to his promise, the prisoner even congratulated his captor on
the cleverness with which his royal person had been seized in the midst
of his troops. That the disappearance of their sovereign within the
Spanish quarters should have sufficed to effect the conquest of his
empire, is easily explained in the very nature of his authority, which
was so absolute that it governed the spirit as well as the mind and
person of every creature in his realm. The Inca a prisoner? It was as if
Deity had condescended to permit his omnipotence to be dominated; but
how, then, could the puny effort of mere mortals avail, where the Son of
the Sun himself had not resisted? When his soldiers learned that their
leader no longer commanded them, the effect of such an incomprehensible,
incredible, and to them, impossible, situation overwhelmed them with awe
for the white man, whom they looked upon as superhuman and invincible.
The great majority of the royal army was still on the march from Cuzco
at the time of Atahuallpa’s capture; and not only was there no immediate
possibility of his rescue, but there was great fear in the Inca’s mind
lest his half-brother, Huascar, should escape from prison and ascend the
throne of Cuzco. He felt the necessity of obtaining his freedom at all
costs and as speedily as possible. The astute monarch had not been slow
to observe that the sight of gold produced a marvellous effect on the
Spaniards, whose eyes glistened with greed when some of their party,
sent to pillage the royal encampment, returned with gold and silver
plate, and precious ornaments taken from the bodies of the nobles who
had perished in the massacre.
The Inca took the first opportunity to appeal to Pizarro’s ruling
passion by promising the Conqueror that if he would give him his freedom
the Spaniards should have all the gold they wanted. Standing up in his
prison and marking a place on the wall as high as he could reach, he
said that he would fill the room up to that height with gold, and the
adjoining room he would fill twice with silver as the price of his
ransom. The brother of the Conqueror relates in his memoirs that the
apartment to be filled with gold was thirty-five feet long by eighteen
feet wide! Pizarro accepted Atahuallpa’s offer, though there is nothing
to indicate that he held himself in any way bound to fulfil his part of
the contract. Perfidious to the last degree in every relation of his
life, it is not strange that he should have shown toward a captive and a
heathen the same disregard for his word as appeared in his dealings with
his best friends. Meantime he set to work assiduously, with the help of
Father Valverde, to prove to Atahuallpa that the faith of the Spaniards
was the only true faith; and his unanswerable argument was that the
Spaniards’ God had brought victory to his children, while the Inca’s
deity had deserted his own in their hour of need;—which the Inca found
it impossible to deny.
[Illustration: GENEALOGY OF FRANCISCO PIZARRO, CONQUEROR OF PERU.]
While the Inca’s couriers were collecting the royal treasure from the
temples and palaces of Tahuantinsuyo and despatching it from the four
quarters of the empire to Cajamarca, the imprisoned monarch continued to
live in the Spanish quarters, free to go about in the apartments that
had been reserved for his use, and treated with the respect due to his
rank, though always under strict surveillance. He was allowed the
society of his wives, and could receive visits from his nobles who came
daily to bring presents and to offer condolence. Through these
messengers he learned that Huascar was plotting to escape from captivity
and secure the throne, and that he had sent word to the Spaniards
promising to raise a greater ransom than Atahuallpa could obtain, who
had never been in Cuzco and knew nothing of its wealth. These reports
both angered and alarmed the Inca, who knew very well that his
half-brother’s claim to the throne would meet with a powerful support
among his former subjects if Huascar should gain his freedom, and that
such an event would of itself suffice to convince the whole nation that
Huascar was favored by their deity, and that Atahuallpa’s captivity was
the just punishment of a usurper. This condition of affairs was
eminently satisfactory to Pizarro, who saw that whichever sovereign he
chose to support must be in reality his vassal, and that between the two
he was likely to collect into his coffers all the treasures of Peru.
Although the historians of the Conquest generally agree that Huascar met
a violent death by the secret orders of his brother, the chroniclers of
that time were, as a rule, not impartial in their statements, and it is
known only that Huascar was assassinated,—by whose order is not certain.
Pizarro was enraged when he heard of Huascar’s death and immediately
charged Atahuallpa with the crime. A stronger guard was placed to watch
the Inca’s apartments and he was under constant suspicion. Pizarro held
him responsible also for delays in the arrival of the royal treasure,
until the Inca, to prove his good faith, offered to provide safe-conduct
to any officers the Spaniards might send to superintend its collection
and transport. Emissaries of Pizarro were despatched to Pachacámac and
Cuzco, which Atahuallpa indicated as the chief repositories of wealth,
though the messenger found Pachacámac already dismantled of its
treasures when he arrived; what became of its gold has never been
learned. The soldiers commissioned to collect the treasures of Cuzco
returned with marvellous stories of its wealth and magnificence. They
found the Temple of the Sun “literally covered with plates of gold,”
which they stripped from its sacred walls in such a frenzy of avarice
that the natives were disgusted beyond measure. The historian Herrera
says they secured seven hundred gold plates, ten or twelve inches in
diameter, besides other rich ornaments, though they did not accomplish
their mission so successfully as they would have done had they been less
brutal and rapacious in their conduct.
Pizarro would have liked to go on to Cuzco himself and secure possession
of the Imperial capital; but, as the reinforcements that Almagro was to
bring from Panamá had not arrived, he feared to undertake such a
journey, protected only by a small force, especially as the safe-keeping
of the Inca would require a powerful guard when passing through the
heart of his populous dominions. While the emissaries were on their way
to get the Inca’s treasure, Almagro reached Cajamarca with one hundred
and fifty men and fifty horses, besides plenty of ammunition; and
Pizarro at once began to lay his plans for the proposed march to Cuzco.
Meanwhile the pile of gold was rapidly increasing, and though it did not
reach the promised height, it amounted, in all, to more than fifteen
million dollars in value, and was the largest ransom that had ever been
paid by a sovereign captive. In spite of the impatience of his jailers,
Atahuallpa had accomplished wonders in the prompt collection of such a
vast treasure, brought from long distances, over mountains and across
rivers, by the most primitive method of transport. He was beginning to
feel very happy in his fancied security, and looked forward to
completing his ransom without the slightest difficulty, when events
occurred, or were reported to have occurred, which gave Pizarro an
excuse to claim the ransom without releasing his prisoner,—indeed, while
condemning him to a cruel death.
As the magnificent treasure of gold and silver grew before the eyes of
the Conquerors, their avarice became too strong to be controlled by any
sentiment of justice or consideration, and they refused to wait longer
for a division of the spoils; they urged many reasons why the gold
should be melted down and divided without further delay, and at last
Pizarro gave the necessary orders. It was agreed that some rare and
beautiful vases, utensils of the temples, ornaments, and curious
imitations of plants and animals, should be sent, intact, as part of the
royal fifth, to the Spanish sovereign. When the division of the prize
was made, Pizarro kept the Inca’s gold throne, and became the possessor
of nearly a million dollars as his share of the treasure. His brother
received one-fourth of this amount and Hernando de Soto much less.
[Illustration: CAJAMARCA, WHERE ATAHUALLPA WAS SEIZED AND EXECUTED BY
PIZARRO’S ORDER.]
When the Inca saw that the price of his ransom had been seized and
divided among his captors he very naturally demanded his freedom. But
Pizarro placed expediency far above justice, and he had no intention of
releasing the captive. On the other hand, he was anxious to get on to
Cuzco. He did not want to be burdened with the care of the royal
prisoner, if it could be avoided. What was to be done? To one of
Pizarro’s character, the end in view was of so much greater importance
than the means by which he gained it, that it is not likely he would
have found difficulty in securing a pretext for the execution of
Atahuallpa, if necessary. But, again good fortune brought to his hand
the weapon for his destructive purpose, in the form of rumors to the
effect that the friends of Atahuallpa were planning an attack on the
Spaniards, and that a large force was encamped only a hundred miles from
the city, ready to march on them, seize their gold and carry off the
Inca. The unfortunate prisoner was at once charged with being the author
of the plot, which probably originated in Pizarro’s own fertile brain.
There was a vehement demand for his execution. Pizarro appeared
unwilling to take such extreme measures and sent Hernando de
Soto—Atahuallpa’s best friend in the camp—at the head of an expedition
to find out the truth about the rumored uprising. While De Soto was
absent, Pizarro “consented to listen to the importunities of his
soldiers,” held a trial in which the Inca was proved guilty of having
usurped the throne; of assassinating his brother; of fraud, idolatry,
polygamy, and, finally, of attempting to excite an insurrection against
the Spaniards. He was condemned to be burnt to death that very night in
the plaza; but, in case that he embraced the Christian religion and was
baptized, his sentence would be commuted to death by strangulation.
The annals of crime furnish no more odious example of heartless cruelty
than is shown in Pizarro’s treatment of the Inca sovereign. Not in a
single instance did the Conqueror keep faith with the Indian emperor,
whom he seized by fraud, persecuted on the flimsiest pretexts, and
murdered without a shred of evidence against the condemned. Is it any
wonder that when the news of the verdict was conveyed to Atahuallpa he
was overwhelmed by the horror of it, and exclaimed: “What have I done
that I should meet with such a fate?” It is said that Pizarro was
visibly affected when the doomed prince turned to him, and said: “And
from your hands, too—you, who have met with friendship and kindness from
my people, with whom I have shared my treasures, who have received
nothing but benefits from my hands!” But however Pizarro may have been
affected, he did not allow any softer impulse to sway him from
inflicting death by the _garrote_ on the innocent victim of his
ambition.
Two hours after sunset on the 29th of August, 1533, the emperor of the
Incas was led out, chained hand and foot, into the plaza which he had
entered a few months before as the proud and powerful representative of
a noble dynasty. And the mighty change had been wrought entirely through
his too friendly protection of a band of invaders, his too princely
welcome to a treacherous chief, and his too lavish gifts to an
unscrupulous enemy. The ceremony of baptism was performed by Father
Valverde, as the Inca had consented to embrace Christianity rather than
be burned at the stake. It is related that Atahuallpa implored Pizarro
to take compassion on his young children and protect them, after which
he resigned himself to his fate and met death without giving a sign. The
official obsequies were performed the following day, Father Valverde
reading the service of the dead, while Pizarro and the principal
cavaliers attended in deep mourning.
The execution of Atahuallpa did not take place any too soon, so far as
Pizarro’s designs were concerned, for Hernando de Soto returned to
Cajamarca a couple of days later with the news that the whole story of
an uprising was a _canard_ and Atahuallpa was innocent! Great was the
sorrow and indignation of De Soto to learn that the Inca had been
executed; for this brave cavalier was a friend of the unhappy monarch
and had shielded him on more than one occasion when the fierce temper of
the soldiers threatened him with harm. Pizarro quailed before the noble
spirit of his braver and better comrade, and sought to throw the blame
on Valverde, who in turn repudiated all share of responsibility in the
shameful business, saying he had acted only as Pizarro’s chaplain. It
was evident that no one cared to father the fraud by which, under the
name of justice, the Inca’s death had been accomplished.
[Illustration: PIZARRO ON THE ISLAND OF GALLO. FROM A PAINTING BY JUAN
O. LEPIANI.]
The execution of Atahuallpa completed the Conquest of Peru. The
sovereignty of the Inca emperor had been too absolute for its own
well-being, and in the hour of peril, the humble subjects, who had
responded with such perfect obedience to the will of an autocrat, were
powerless to move without his guiding finger, possessing in themselves
neither initiative nor self-reliance, qualities that thrive only in the
free air of independence, under the sunlight of hope. That the despotism
of the Incas was a mighty power, exercised with genius and worthiness,
cannot be denied; industry was the basis of its greatness, and
protection the keynote to its prosperity; every subject of the Children
of the Sun must earn his bread by honest labor, though he was always
sure of being fed. But the very fact that such a despotism could be
annihilated by a mere handful of adventurers, and that, within the space
of a few months, its institutions could fall to pieces and its people be
made slaves to this band of invaders whom they outnumbered by millions,
proves that it was not a system strong enough to hold its own in the
progress of nations. One cannot help regretting, however, that such a
flourishing empire was not permitted to fulfil its own destiny; perhaps
it might have developed, through the refining influence of the national
ideals, from an absolute theocracy to a more liberal form of government.
With the overthrow of the Incas, the land that had bloomed perennially
with the fruits of husbandry became a scene of anarchy and a neglected
waste; the highroads, instead of presenting a pleasant spectacle in
groups of contented farm laborers, on their way to fulfil the daily
tasks that were to bring them both bodily and spiritual reward, were
thronged with heavy-hearted, over-worked, and poorly fed slaves.
[Illustration: AUTOGRAPHS OF THE FIRST OFFICIALS WHO GOVERNED LIMA WITH
PIZARRO.]
As soon as the obstacle of Atahuallpa’s presence was removed, Pizarro
and his followers set out for Cuzco, marking their progress by the
demolition of Inca temples along the route, the seizure of treasure, and
all the outrages which an unrestrained soldiery of brutal instincts will
commit under such circumstances. Everywhere the emblems of the Sun
worship were replaced by images of the Virgin and Child, and the few
efforts at resistance that were made by the terror-stricken natives were
easily overcome by the soldiers of the Cross. An uprising of some
importance took place near Jauja, under the command of the Inca’s
favorite general, but it was quelled and the leader burned at the stake.
A brother of Huascar, the Inca Manco, sought an interview with the
Spaniards and put forth his claims to the throne of his fathers, asking
Pizarro’s protection. As it did not in any way interfere with Pizarro’s
plans, but rather promised to further them, the Conqueror caused Manco
to be crowned at Cuzco, the ceremony being more like an acknowledgment
of vassalage to Spain than the coronation of a royal heir of the Inca
dynasty. However, the outward semblance of royalty counted for much
among the Inca’s subjects, who, at that time, no doubt had very confused
ideas as to Pizarro’s place in the government, and were contented as
long as the crimson _masca paicha_ adorned the brow of an Inca prince.
By this politic proceeding, the governor, as Pizarro was now called, was
able to begin the colonization of the country, though only after all the
temples, palaces, fortresses, and tombs of the holy city had been
stripped of their last treasures,—the amount secured being even greater
than the ransom of Atahuallpa,—was it possible to establish the
institutions of peaceful government.
Leaving Cuzco to be ruled by one of his brothers, Pizarro set out for
the coast to learn the intentions of a newly arrived adventurer, Pedro
de Alvarado, who had been with Cortés in Mexico, and had come to seek a
fresh field for his military prowess in Peru, having heard of the
Conquest and of the enormous booty secured by the discoverers. Pizarro
met Alvarado at Pachacámac, where they came to a friendly understanding,
and spent some time together in social entertainment, after which
Alvarado departed for Guatemala, and Pizarro, who had long realized that
Cuzco was too inaccessible to be a satisfactory metropolis for the new
colonial empire, began to plan for the foundation of a suitable capital
on the coast. He concluded that the neighboring valley of Rimac offered
desirable advantages, and here the site was chosen on the 6th of
January, 1535, the new capital being named the City of the Kings in
honor of the festival of Twelfth Night. The popular name, however, has
always been Lima, a corruption of the Indian “Rimac.” The founding of
the city did not take place until two weeks after the selection of the
site.
The foundation of Lima marks the closing period in the history of the
Conquest, a period in which that remarkable drama of warring ambition
reached a final scene in keeping with the tragic story. When the royal
fifth of the enormous treasure taken from the Inca’s dominions arrived
at the court of Spain, the whole country went mad with excitement over
such a mountain of gold. Charles was overcome with delight and
manifested his appreciation of the great service rendered by Pizarro,
Almagro and Valverde, by giving to the first the title of Marquis with
seventy leagues more of territory southward; to Almagro two hundred
leagues, beginning at the southern boundary of Pizarro’s dominions; and
to Father Valverde the bishopric of Cuzco. Father Luque had died at
Panamá, after warning Almagro to be on his guard in his dealings with
Pizarro, whom the honest priest distrusted from the first. Following his
advice, and profiting by his own previous experience, Almagro had sent
his personal representative to Spain with Hernando Pizarro, when that
cavalier was commissioned to carry the royal fifth to the king. The
Conqueror and his marshal, as Almagro was called, no sooner received
news of the division of their possessions than they began to quarrel
over the limits. Almagro claimed Cuzco in his province of New Toledo,
while Pizarro insisted that the Inca capital belonged to his dominion,
which was called New Castile. Pizarro went to Cuzco, met Almagro and
persuaded him to allow the matter to rest until Hernando should arrive
from Panamá with the documents; the two embraced and swore undying
loyalty to each other, after which Almagro set out to conquer Chile,
while Pizarro returned to the task which gave him more pleasure than any
other, the building of the new capital of Peru. He also founded the city
of Trujillo, naming it after his birthplace in Spain.
[Illustration: A DESCENDANT OF THE CONQUERED INCA.]
Meantime the young Inca Manco had been laying plans for revolt, goaded
to desperation by the insults which he and his people suffered from the
Spaniards. Not only were the temples robbed, the practice of his
religion being forbidden, but gross treatment was shown to the priests
and all manner of outrages were committed. The women of the convents
were turned into the streets to become the prey of a vicious soldiery.
Twice the Inca made his escape, and the second time he succeeded in
collecting a large army, but their arrows and sling-stones made little
impression on the Spanish coat of mail, and only their copper-tipped
lances and battle-axes of the same material served in the fight; these
weapons they used so dexterously that the enemy was forced to retreat to
Cuzco, which the Indians promptly surrounded and set on fire, preferring
to burn their holy city to the ground to seeing it in possession of the
hated conquerors. Their revolt was so determined and persistent that
Pizarro became alarmed and sent reinforcements and supplies to his
countrymen, who were in dire straits for several weeks, shut up in the
half-demolished city, while the Indians held possession of the fortress
of Sacsahuaman and all the mountain passes around. Manco himself
occupied the fortress of Ollantaytambo, which the Spaniards attacked
unsuccessfully, being forced to retreat to Cuzco without effecting his
capture. Although the Spanish arms finally prevailed and the Inca’s
forces were scattered, this proud and heroic prince continued to harass
the usurpers of his kingdom for years, so that his name was held in
terror by the colonists, until he was at last assassinated by a party of
Spaniards to whom he had given shelter in his camp.
Almagro’s expedition to Chile having proved a failure, the adventurer
returned to establish his claim to Cuzco. He was met by Pizarro’s
brother, Hernando, his old enemy, and was defeated near Cuzco,
imprisoned and put to death by the Conqueror’s orders. To his son he
bequeathed the province of New Toledo. But Pizarro saw in the death of
his old comrade an opportunity to unite the two provinces under one
government, and he refused to recognize the claim of the younger
Almagro, which so incensed the veteran followers of Pizarro’s latest
victim that they swore a terrible vengeance on the usurping governor.
Driven to desperation by the apparent hopelessness of their cause, and
eager to avenge the death of their beloved leader—for Almagro had been
the idol of his soldiers, whose devotion he held by unfailing kindness
and generosity—“those of Chile,” as they were contemptuously called by
Pizarro’s men, were ready to commit any crime that would rid them of the
domination of the hated Conqueror. Under the leadership of Juan de Rada,
who, on the death of the senior Almagro, constituted himself the
guardian and champion of the son, affectionately known among Almagro’s
men as _El Mozo_, the conspirators laid their plans against the life of
the governor with consummate skill and daring. Pizarro was warned of
their purpose, which had been revealed in the confessional; but he paid
no heed to danger, and was entertaining a number of friends at breakfast
when the fatal hour arrived.
Whatever may be said of Pizarro’s character, he was no coward, and when
the assassins rushed into his house with the shout “Long live the King!
Death to the tyrant!” they were met by the Conqueror, who, not having
time to buckle on his armor, threw his _capa_, or cloak, over his
shoulder and faced his enemies, sword in hand. After a brave resistance,
he sank down with a fatal wound in the throat. Wetting his finger in his
own blood, he traced a cross on the floor, and was bending to kiss the
sacred symbol, when the _coup de grâce_ put an end to his life. Thus, in
the last moment, the heart of the Crusader triumphed over the instincts
of the gold-seeker!
The burial of Pizarro was attended by none of the pomp and ceremony
usually observed in the obsequies of a great hero; on the contrary, the
interment was hasty and stealthy, performed in fear and trembling lest
it should be interrupted and the corpse dragged to the market place. Not
until more than half a century later were the bones of the discoverer
and conqueror of Peru removed to their present resting place in the
Cathedral of Lima. With the death of Francisco Pizarro the period of the
Conquest ends, as the pretensions of the younger Almagro, who caused
himself to be proclaimed Governor and Captain-General of Peru after the
assassination of the Conqueror, were not recognized by the King of
Spain, who sent Vaca de Castro to coöperate with Pizarro in establishing
peace in Peru, with authorization to take the reins of government in his
own hands in case of Pizarro’s death. As soon as Vaca de Castro arrived,
he assumed the position of governor and captain-general, and, gathering
under his command the soldiers who remained loyal to the king, he at
once marched against Almagro, whom he defeated on the plains of Chupas,
near Ayacucho, in September, 1542. Almagro escaped from the battlefield
and fled to Cuzco, where he was taken prisoner and, by the governor’s
order, was beheaded. About the same time, Bishop Valverde was
assassinated by the Indians of Puná while on his way to Panamá. Thus the
leading spirits in the invasion and conquest of Peru met with a violent
death; Hernando Pizarro languished in a Spanish prison for twenty years,
and Hernando de Soto died in the wilds of the Mississippi forests.
[Illustration: COAT-OF-ARMS GRANTED PIZARRO BY CHARLES V. AFTER THE
CONQUEST OF CUZCO.]
[Illustration: FAÇADE OF SAN AGUSTIN CHURCH, LIMA, SHOWING ELABORATE
CARVING OF COLONIAL DAYS.]