in 1880 the Spanish editor, printed their versions. An English
translation is now, for the first time, issued by the Hakluyt Society.
PART III, and _Books I and II_ of PART IV, are still in manuscript and
inaccessible, but Don M. J. de la Espada knows that they exist and
where, although he has not seen them.
_Book III_ of PART IV long remained inedited. The manuscript is in the
Royal Library at Madrid, and is in handwriting of the middle of the
16th century. It includes the war of Quito, and is divided into 239
chapters. A copy of this manuscript was included in the collection of
Don Antonio de Uguina, on whose death it passed into the possession of
M. Ternaux-Compans of Paris. Afterwards Mr. Rich obtained it, and sold
it in 1849 to Mr. Lenox of New York for £600. At length this _Book III_
of Part IV was printed and edited in 1877, with an interesting and very
learned introduction by Don Marcos Jimenez de la Espada.[14]
_Books IV and V_ of PART IV, and the two _Commentaries_, are not known
to be in existence; but they were written, for Cieza de Leon refers to
them in his Prologue as completed.
Mr. Prescott was mistaken in supposing that Cieza de Leon only completed
the First Part.[15] He worked so diligently, and with such ability, and
sound judgment, that he was able to finish the whole of the grand work
he had projected. He is thus the greatest and most illustrious among the
historians of Peru. So that his fate has been peculiarly hard. For more
than three centuries his First Part only has been credited to him. His
most valuable Second Part, though used and highly appreciated by Mr.
Prescott, was attributed to an obscure lawyer who never was out of Spain
in his life. One book of his Fourth Part has also at length been edited,
but all the rest of his work still remains in manuscript. The
accomplished Spanish editor, Don Marcos Jimenez de la Espada, was
influenced in his labours and researches by a generous zeal to repair,
in some degree, the great injustice which has been done to the memory of
Cieza de Leon.
In my Introduction to the First Part, I gave some account of the author,
all indeed that could be gathered from the part of his work then
accessible; and I said that he was supposed to have been born in
Seville.[16] This is an error. The Spanish editor has pointed out the
authority for believing that the place of his birth was the town of
Llerena in Estremadura.[17] In my former Introduction I suggested from
the dates, and from the company in which we find him immediately on
landing in America, that young Cieza de Leon, then a boy between 13 and
15, sailed from his native land in one of the ships which formed the
expeditionary fleet of Don Pedro de Heredia, who had obtained a grant of
the government of the region between the river Magdalena and the gulf of
Darien. This fleet left Cadiz in 1532, and arrived at Cartagena in 1533.
But the Spanish editor has shown that there are difficulties in the way
of this conclusion, and Cieza himself is slightly contradictory in the
matter of dates. He, however, mentions having seen the treasures of
Atahualpa at Seville, when they arrived from Caxamarca,[18] which was in
1534. Señor de la Espada, therefore, concludes that our author did not
sail for America until 1534, and that he embarked with the ships of
Rodrigo Duran, which anchored at Cartagena in November 1534. At all
events he was in San Sebastian de Buena Vista in 1537,[19] and was with
the first Spaniards who opened a road from the north to the south sea.
Thence he accompanied Pedro Vadillo in his expedition up the valley of
the Cauca to Cali, and then joined Jorge de Robledo, who established
towns in this Cauca valley, and conquered some of the cannibal tribes.
It was at this time, in 1541, when at Cartago in the Cauca valley, that
our author conceived a strong desire to write an account of the strange
things that were to be seen in the new world.[20] “Oftentimes when the
other soldiers were reposing, I was tiring myself by writing. Neither
fatigue, nor the ruggedness of the country, nor the mountains and
rivers, nor intolerable hunger and suffering, have ever been sufficient
to obstruct my two duties, namely, writing, and following my flag and my
captain without fault.” In 1547 he joined the President Gasca in his
march to Cuzco, and was present at the final rout of Gonzalo Pizarro.
After a residence at Cuzco he undertook a journey southwards to Charcas,
under the special auspices of Gasca, and with the sole object of
learning all that was worthy of notice. Returning to Lima he finished
his First Part on September 8th, 1550. He says he was then thirty-two
years of age, and had passed seventeen of them in the Indies.
The Second Part was also nearly completed before Cieza de Leon left
Peru, because he mentions having shown most of it to two learned judges
at Lima, Dr. Bravo de Saravia and the Licentiate Hernando de Santillan.
The latter was himself the author of a valuable work on the government
of the Yncas, which also long remained in manuscript. It was first
printed in Madrid in 1879, having been edited by Don Marcos Jimenez de
la Espada. From incidental notices in the Second Part, we learn how
diligently young Cieza de Leon collected information respecting the
history and government of the Yncas, after he had written his accurate
yet picturesque description of the country in his First Part. He often
asked the Indians what they knew of their condition before the Yncas
became their lords.[21] He carefully examined the temple of Cacha, and
inquired into the traditions concerning it, from the intelligent native
governor of an adjacent village.[22] In 1550 he went to Cuzco with the
object of collecting information, and it was arranged by Juan de
Saavedra, the Corregidor of that city, that one of the surviving
descendants of the great Ynca Huayna Ccapac, an intelligent and learned
native named Cayu Tupac, should confer with him. At the very time when
Cieza de Leon was diligently studying the history of the Yncas under the
guidance of this Peruvian “Pundit”, the young Ynca Garcilasso de la
Vega, then eleven years of age, was at school in the same old city of
Cuzco, learning Latin under the good Canon Cuellar. The two historians
must often have seen each other, the little half-caste boy playing in
the streets with his schoolfellows, and the stately young Spanish
soldier studying carefully with his noble Ynca friend. Cieza de Leon
explains the plan of his Second Part, which was, first to review the
system of government of the Yncas, and then to narrate the events of the
reign of each sovereign. He weighs conflicting evidence, and gives the
version which appears to him to be nearest the truth, sometimes also
adding the grounds of his decision. He spared no pains to obtain the
best and most authentic information; and his sympathy with the conquered
people, and generous appreciation of their many good and noble
qualities, give a special charm to his narrative.
Cieza de Leon is certainly one of the most important authorities on Ynca
history and civilization, whether we consider his peculiar advantages in
collecting information, or his character as a conscientious historian.
His remarks respecting the Ynca roads and system of posts, on the use of
the _quipus_, on the system of colonists, and on the ceremonial songs
and recitations to preserve the memory of historical events, are of the
first importance. He bears striking evidence of the historical faculty
possessed by the learned men at the court of the Yncas. After saying
that, on the death of a sovereign, the chroniclers related the events of
his reign to his successor, he adds:--“They could well do this, for
there were among them some men with good memories, sound judgments, and
subtle genius, and full of reasoning power, as we can bear witness who
have heard them even in these our days.”[23]
Students owe much to the labours of Don Marcos Jimenez de la Espada. He
has not only edited the text of the Second Part of Cieza de Leon, and
his _War of Quito_, but also the hitherto inedited narratives of
Betanzos, Molina, Salcamayhua, Santillan, and an anonymous work, all of
great importance with reference to the history and civilization of the
Yncas. These additions to our knowledge are sufficient to show us how
much there is to learn before anything approaching to a correct
appreciation of this interesting subject can be attained. The future
historian who will at last achieve this task, must be intimately
acquainted with every part of the Yncarial empire, must be a thorough
Quichua scholar, must have closely studied all early Spanish writers,
and must possess the critical faculty to enable him to assign its proper
weight to the varied evidence given by many different authorities. The
present useful labour of editing and indexing will prepare the way for
the future work. It is the accumulation, sorting, and preparation of the
materials with which the noble edifice will some day be built.
The Index of the present volume is classified on the same principle as
those in the volumes of Garcilasso de la Vega, Acosta, Molina,
Salcamayhua, Avila, and Polo de Ondegardo. The student is thus able to
see, without trouble, the Quichua words and the names of places and
persons which are mentioned by each author. His studies will in this way
be much facilitated, especially if he undertakes the task of weighing
the respective value of facts and opinions given by different writers.
Such an investigation is one essential step towards the comprehension
of the history and civilization of the Yncas. A more important inquiry
refers to the assignment of traditions, customs, beliefs, and words to
the different races which were comprehended in the Yncarial empire. But
this can only be attempted by students of the native languages. It is
from Peru itself--from learned and painstaking Peruvian scholars--that
we must look for future real progress in this most interesting field of
research. Republican Peru has already produced many eminent writers who
have devoted their talents to historical studies, and to the elucidation
of the archæology and philology of their native land. The names of
Rivero, Paz Soldan, Palma, Zegarra, Barranca, Mujica, and others, at
once occur to the mind. Peru, in her undeserved misfortunes, has shown
that her sons can fight bravely for their beloved fatherland. In
literature, many of her sons have shed lustre on their country’s
history. In no christian land is there warmer family affection; in none
is there truer and more cordial hospitality. Those who know Peru best,
most deeply regret her misfortunes, and most heartily desire her future
welfare.
NOTE
ON
THE ANCIENT YNCA DRAMA.
The reference of Cieza de Leon to the songs and recitations at the court
of the Yncas suggests the question of the existence among the ancient
Peruvians of a drama, or system of representing historical and other
events by means of dialogues. This, therefore, seems a suitable
opportunity for examining what light is thrown on the question in the
works which, in a translated form, have been issued by the Hakluyt
Society; and for considering the most reasonable conclusion to be
derived from the materials now within our reach.
At page 32 of the present volume, Cieza de Leon says that the most
learned among the people were selected to make known historical events
by songs and recitations, which were handed down from memory. This is
the germ of dramatic representation, which might be expected to attain
fuller development; and that it did so is clear from the evidence of
other historians. Garcilasso de la Vega says:--“The _Amautas_, or
philosophers, were not wanting in ability to compose comedies and
tragedies, which were represented before their kings on solemn
festivals. The subject matter of the tragedy always related to military
deeds, triumphs, and victories, or to the grandeur of former kings and
of other heroic men. The arguments of the comedies were on agriculture
and familiar household subjects. All the plays were on decorous and
important topics, the sentences being such as befitted the occasion.
They understood the composition of long and short verses, with the right
number of syllables in each. They did not use rhymes in the verses, but
all were blank.”[24] The native author, Salcamayhua, also bears witness
to the existence of an ancient drama, and even gives the Quichua names
of four different kinds of plays. “In the festival they represented
plays called _añay sauca_,[25] _hayachuca_,[26] _llama-llama_,[27] and
_hañamsi_.”[28] That the memory of the old dramatic lore was preserved,
and handed down after the Spanish conquest, is proved by the sentence
pronounced on the rebels at Cuzco in 1781, by the Judge Areche. It
prohibited “the representation of dramas, as well as all other festivals
which the Indians celebrated in memory of their Yncas.”[29] Dr.
Justiniani, a descendant of the Yncas, who was eighty-five when I knew
him, in 1853, told me that he could remember having seen, when a very
little boy, a Quichua tragedy acted by Indians in the town of
Tinta.[30]
The Spanish priests took advantage of this aptitude of the Indians for
dramatic representation, and composed religious plays in the Quichua
language, in imitation of the _Autos Sacramentales_ then in vogue.
Garcilasso says,--“The Jesuits composed comedies for the Indians to act,
_because they knew that this was the custom in the time of the Yncas_.”
He mentions three such plays,[31] and adds, “the Indian lads repeated
the dialogues with so much grace, feeling, and correct action that they
gave universal satisfaction and pleasure; and with so much plaintive
softness in the songs, that many Spaniards shed tears of joy at seeing
their ability and skill. From that time the Spaniards disabused
themselves of the opinion that the Indians were dull, barbarous, and
stupid.”
Several of these religious plays were written by the Spanish priests in
the Quichua language, for the people to perform at great festivals, and
they of course bear unmistakeable evidence of their Spanish origin. I
possess two of these plays. One is by Dr. Lunarejo, a native of Cuzco,
and a celebrated Quichua scholar, who flourished in the eighteenth
century. It is entitled _Comedia famosa del pobre mas rico_, and is on
the plan of the “Autos” of Lope de Vega and Calderon. The other is
anonymous and appears to be of earlier date. The title is _Usca Paucar,
Auto Sacramental el Patrocinio de Maria_.
We thus have evidence that the Yncas cultivated the drama in ancient
times; that some of the plays were handed down and were acted as late as
1781; and that the Spanish priests, finding that the Peruvians possessed
traditional aptitude for dramatic performances, turned this talent to
account in the inculcation of religious dogma. It might, therefore,
naturally be expected that one or more of the ancient Ynca plays, as
distinguished from the religious “Autos” of Spanish times, would have
been preserved. It has long been known that at least one such drama does
exist, under the title of _Ollantay_, and Quichua scholars concur in the
belief that it is really of ancient origin, and that it dates from
pre-Spanish times.
The drama of _Ollantay_, as it now exists, was arranged for
representation, divided into scenes, and supplied with stage directions
in Spanish times; but competent Quichua students believe that most of
the dialogues, speeches, and songs date from a period before the
conquest; and that consequently it is an Ynca drama. The manuscript
copies are probably numerous, some carelessly made by ignorant scribes,
and containing modern words in substitution of what may have been
illegible in the originals. But others are older and more correct
versions, and these alone should be referred to in discussing the
question of the date of this composition. A really critical text has
not, however, been hitherto established, from which all modern
interpolations have been excluded, and the readings in the most
authentic and oldest versions alone retained.
The drama was first brought to notice by Don Manuel Palacios, in the
_Museo Erudito_, a periodical published at Cuzco in 1837. The learned
Peruvian mineralogist and antiquary, Don Mariano Eduardo de Rivero,[32]
in his work entitled _Antiguedades Peruanas_, gave two specimens from
it, in Quichua and Spanish. Señor Rivero says that copies of _Ollantay_,
written in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, are preserved in
private libraries at Cuzco.[33] The whole text was first printed by Dr.
von Tschudi at the end of his Quichua Grammar, but without a
translation, in 1853.[34] The manuscript used by the learned German was
copied from one preserved in the Dominican monastery at Cuzco by one of
the monks, between 1840 and 1845, for the artist Ruggendas of Munich,
who gave it to Dr. von Tschudi, the original being much damaged and in
parts illegible.
In April 1853 I had the opportunity of examining and transcribing a
version of _Ollantay_, which, I was informed, contained the purest text.
It belonged to Dr. Don Pablo Justiniani, the aged priest of the village
of Laris, in the heart of the eastern Andes.[35] His father, Dr. Justo
Pastor Justiniani, had copied it from the original manuscript belonging
to Dr. Don Antonio Valdez, the priest of Sicuani in 1780, and the friend
of the unfortunate Ynca Tupac Amaru. Dr. Valdez died in the year 1816.
He is said to have been the first to reduce the drama to writing, and to
arrange it for the stage,[36] but this is clearly an error, as there is
a manuscript of 1730, and others dating from the previous century,
according to Rivero. The manuscript of Valdez is, however, one of great
value, as it preserves all the original forms, and the fame of the owner
as a Quichua scholar is some guarantee for its accuracy. In 1853 it was
in the possession of Don Narciso Cuentas of Tinta, the nephew and heir
of Dr. Valdez. Another copy taken from the Valdez manuscript, was in
possession of Dr. Rosas, the priest of Chinchero near Cuzco. I carefully
collated the Justiniani and Rosas copies. In the year 1871 I published
the text of my copy of the Justiniani version, with an attempt at a
literal English translation.[37] But in three or four passages I adopted
the reading of Von Tschudi’s version, and in all I was wrong. I should,
as I have since convinced myself, have adhered closely to the Justiniani
text. In this text, however, there are several additions inserted by a
later hand when the drama was arranged for the stage. These I placed in
brackets.
In 1873 the Peruvian scholar, Dr. Don Manuel Gonzalez de la Rosa,
informed me that he had in his possession the manuscripts of Dr. Justo
Sahuaraura Ynca, Archdeacon of Cuzco, and a descendant of Paullu, the
younger son of the great Ynca Huayna Ccapac. Among them is a version of
the drama of _Ollantay_, which Dr. de la Rosa considers to be authentic
and very accurate. This text has not hitherto been published.
Don José S. Barranca, in 1868, published an excellent Spanish
translation, chiefly from the text of Von Tschudi, now called the
Dominican text. It is preceded by an interesting introduction, and the
author announced that he was preparing for the press a carefully edited
Quichuan text, but I am not aware that this has yet seen the light.[38]
In 1876 the Peruvian poet, Don Constantino Carrasco, published, in Lima,
a version of the drama of _Ollantay_ in verse, paraphrased from the
translation of Barranca. It is preceded by a critical introduction from
the pen of the accomplished Peruvian writer, Don Ricardo Palma, who
expressed an opinion that the drama was composed after the Spanish
conquest.
In 1874 the enthusiastic Peruvian student of the language of the Yncas,
Dr. José Fernandez Nodal, printed the Quichua text with a Spanish
translation in parallel columns. This version has several different
readings.[39]
In 1875 Dr. von Tschudi published a second text of _Ollantay_, at
Vienna, with a translation. His new version, like the first, is mainly
from the Dominican text, but partly from another manuscript which bears
the date “La Paz, June 18th, 1735”.[40] This important date proves that
Dr. Valdez was not the author, as supposed by the editor of the _Museo
Erudito_, but merely the possessor of one of the best manuscripts.[41]
Don Gavino Pacheco Zegarra published the text of _Ollantay_ at Paris, in
1878; his version being taken from a manuscript found among the books of
his great-uncle, Don Pedro Zegarra. He added a free translation, and
numerous valuable notes. The work of Zegarra is by far the most
important that has appeared on this subject; for the accomplished
Peruvian has the great advantage of knowing Quichua from his earliest
childhood. To this advantage, not possessed by any previous writer, he
unites extensive learning, literary ability, and very considerable
critical sagacity. He is fully convinced of the antiquity of the
drama.[42]
In his _Races Aryennes_, Don Vicente Fidel Lopez refers to the drama of
_Ollantay_, and discusses the meaning of the word. The editors and
critics to whom I have referred, all being students of the Quichua
language, have come to the conclusion that _Ollantay_ is an ancient Ynca
drama. Some of them, including myself, arrived at this conclusion after
long study and much hesitation.[43] The following is the argument of the
drama. Ollantay, General of Anti-Suyu, was deeply enamoured of the
princess Cusi-Ccoyllur, the chief beauty of the court of the Ynca
Pachacutec. In vain the High Priest, Uillac-Umu, endeavoured to dissuade
him, and even performed a miracle to divert him from his illegal love.
Pachacutec, the Ynca, rejected the suitor for his daughter’s hand, and
Ollantay rose in rebellion, occupying the great fortress, consisting of
colossal ruins, which has ever since been called Ollantay-tampu.
Meanwhile, Cusi Ccoyllur gave birth to a child which was named Yma Sumac
(“how beautiful”). For this transgression the princess was immured in a
dungeon in the Aclla Huasi, or convent of Sacred Virgins, for ten years.
Pachacutec died, and the sceptre passed to his son Ynca Yupanqui.
Ollantay was at length conquered by a stratagem. Concealing his army in
a neighbouring ravine, the general Rumi-ñaui came to the stronghold of
the rebels, and appeared before Ollantay covered with blood. He declared
that he had been cruelly treated by the Ynca, and that he desired to
join the insurrection. Encouraging the insurgents to celebrate a
festival with drunken orgies, he admitted his own troops and captured
the whole party, including Ollantay. Next there is a touching dialogue
between Yma Sumac and one of the virgins, who allows her to visit her
mother in the dungeon. Finally the great rebel is pardoned by the
magnanimous Ynca, and the unfortunate princess is restored to the arms
of her lover. One of the characters, a facetious servant lad, named
Piqui Chaqui, supplies the comic vein which runs through the piece.
There are ample proofs of the antiquity of the tradition, and that the
name of Ollantay was known in the days of the Yncas, and was applied to
the famous ruins near Cuzco. Father Cristobal de Molina, a very high
authority, writing in 1580, mentions Ollantay-tampu in connection with a
curious sacrificial ceremony.[44] Salcamayhua, a writer of the
seventeenth century, also mentions Ollantay.[45] The name, therefore,
was well known before the Spanish conquest.[46] The name of Rumi-ñaui,
which means “stone-eye”, as that of the general who, by the stratagem
of mutilating his face, deceived Ollantay, is not uncommon in Ynca
history. A general of Atahualpa had the same name. It is a curious fact,
as corroborative of this part of the story, that in 1837 an Indian
presented to Don Antonio Maria Alvarez, then Prefect of Cuzco, an
ancient earthen drinking vessel, moulded into the shape of a man’s head
and bust. He said that it had been handed down in his family for
generations, as the likeness of Rumi-ñaui. The person represented must
have been a general, from the _masccapaycha_ or ornament on the
forehead, and wounds are cut on the face in accordance with the argument
of the drama.
But the chief reasons for assigning a date before the Spanish conquest
to the speeches and dialogues of _Ollantay_, have reference to the
internal evidence. Throughout the piece there is not the remotest
allusion to Christianity, an impossible phenomenon if the drama had been
written in Spanish times, like the comedy of Dr. Lunarejo and the
_Usca-paucar_. It contains songs of indubitable antiquity, and in use
among the purest Quichua people. The language is archaic; there are many
words which have long disappeared from the spoken Quichua, and are now
only found in the earliest vocabularies. The grammatical forms, such as
_cca_ instead of _pa_ for the genitive, are ancient. The state of
society represented in the drama is entirely Pagan, without a sign of
Spanish contact. The metre is octo-syllabic, like that of the Ynca song
preserved by Blas Valera, and is the same as the most ancient verses in
the collection of Dr. Justiniani. In the early and pure copies there is
not an allusion to anything, or any animal, introduced by Europeans. All
arguments must of course be based on the most authentic text, and not on
later copies into which many errors have crept, such as the substitution
of words like _misi_ (a cat), and _asna_ (a donkey), corrected in
another copy to _llama_, for the original word, in both cases, _atoc_ (a
fox).
In the final decision of a question of this kind, it is always an
advantage to have an able antagonist who will take the trouble to state
all that can be said against the generally received opinion. In the
present case the “Devil’s Advocate” is no less a person than General Don
Bartolomé Mitré, the ex-President of the Argentine Republic. General
Mitré maintains that the drama of _Ollantay_ is entirely of Spanish
origin, and that it was written in modern times.[47] His opinion is not
to be despised; for he is evidently a man of extensive reading, and is
possessed of critical insight of a high order. But his knowledge of the
Quichua language and of the Spanish authors who wrote in the first
century after the conquest of Peru is limited, as will presently appear.
Nevertheless, the accomplished general and statesman would no doubt have
proved his case if it had been possible. The facts, however, are too
numerous, and too closely arrayed against him. His attack was well
planned and gallantly delivered, but it has utterly failed.[48]
The General’s first assault is made upon the evidence of the existence
of dramatic compositions among the Yncas. Garcilasso de la Vega is
declared to be the sole authority, and he is unceremoniously set aside
as unworthy of credit. Cieza de Leon and Acosta are then triumphantly
referred to as being absolutely silent on the subject. But General Mitré
had evidently only read the first part of Cieza de Leon, and was still
ignorant of the contents of the present volume. He was equally ignorant
of the work of Salcamayhua, where the names of four different kinds of
dramatic compositions are given. There is, quite independently of the
positive statement of Garcilasso, ample evidence of the existence of a
drama of some kind in the time of the Yncas.
His next point is that _Ollantay_ is throughout, in general form and
minute details, a Christian and cavalieresque play _de capa y espada_,
such as those of Lope de Vega and Calderon. Mr. Ticknor says that
_comedias de capa y espada_ excluded those dramas in which royal
personages appear; their main and moving principle is gallantry; the
story is almost always involved and intriguing; and accompanied with an
underplot and parody on the characters and adventures of the principal
parties, formed out of those of the servants and other inferior
personages.[49] _Ollantay_ is a historical play including royal
personages; the main and moving principle is not gallantry of the _capa
y espada_ type, the story is simple and not intriguing, and it is not
accompanied with an underplot. So that the Quichua drama is not only
unlike a Spanish _comedia de capa y espada_, but it would be difficult
to find two classes of compositions, both being dramatic, which are
more completely distinct from each other.
Next, General Mitré objects that the sentiments prevailing in _Ollantay_
are pride of caste, conjugal fidelity, military spirit, filial love,
humanity to the vanquished, horror of polygamy, royal magnanimity, which
are proper to European civilisation, but opposed to all that is known of
Ynca social life. Yet pride of caste is described, by nearly all writers
on the subject, as a noteworthy characteristic of the Ynca family. There
are many touching stories told of conjugal fidelity and filial love
among the Peruvians by writers contemporaneous with the conquest; and I
am tempted to relate one of these stories at the end of the present
critical notice. The military spirit was sedulously cultivated by the
Yncas, who were always engaged in new conquests. The exercise of
magnanimity and of humanity to the conquered was constantly inculcated,
and was a part of the established policy of the Yncas, as we are told by
nearly all the early writers. Polygamy is nowhere spoken of with horror
in _Ollantay_. All the sentiments enumerated by General Mitré as
peculiar to European civilisation, are those which went towards the
formation of the best part of the Ynca character, and which would
naturally be met with in a Quichua drama.
The next objection is that rebellion is approved in the drama of
_Ollantay_, and that such countenance would be impossible at a despotic
court like that of the Yncas. The remark applies equally to the court
of Spain. It may be admitted that the encouragement of rebellion as a
principle would not be tolerated unless it eventually redounded to the
credit of the sovereign. Successful rebellion was not unknown in Ynca
history, and Yupanqui Pachacutec himself, the sovereign of the play,
deposed his brother Urco, according to Cieza de Leon. That story would
not be heard with displeasure. Nor would that of _Ollantay_, where the
rebel is subdued, and where the magnanimity of the sovereign is
celebrated.
The whole of the arguments of the General, based on internal evidence
afforded by words and passages in the play, may be set aside, because
none of the words upon which he relies as evidence of Spanish origin are
to be found in the true version. The true version must be considered as
that which excludes all words and passages which are not common to _all_
the older manuscripts. On this principle all the words relied upon by
the General are corrupt readings which have crept in through the
carelessness of copiers.[50]
General Mitré objects that the High Priest alludes to the broken thread
of destiny, which is a strictly Greek image. He misunderstands the
passage. The High Priest compares the consequence of the act, which will
bring destruction on Ollantay, not with the thread of destiny entangled
and severed, but with the wool and frame of a native weaving machine
overturned and broken, a natural and indigenous figure suggested by
things often before the speaker’s own eyes. The remainder of the
General’s attack is occupied in efforts to find traces of old world
ideas in _Ollantay_, most of his analogies being very far-fetched. There
is a _yaravi_ or song, describing the beauty of the heroine, which the
General compares with the Song of Solomon. The only resemblance is that
both describe personal beauty by comparisons with the beauties of
nature, and this is common to nearly all poetry. But General Mitré, by
using Zegarra’s somewhat free translation, attributes figures to the
song which it does not contain, such as a “countenance white and
transparent as alabaster, bosoms as white as pieces of ice, cheeks like
roses fallen on snow, eyebrows like bows sending forth burning and
slaughter-dealing arrows, fingers like bolls of opening cotton.” There
is nothing of all this in the authentic text. In the real song all the
similes are strictly and essentially Quichuan. Her forehead is compared
to _Quilla_, the moon; her eyes, not to arrows, but to two suns; her
eyebrows to rainbows, the insignia of the Yncas. Her tresses are black,
mixed with gold, just as the plaited hair of an Ynca princess is
represented in an ancient picture at Cuzco. The bloom of her cheek is
compared with the _achancaray_, a red flower peculiar to Peru; her
bosoms, not to snow, but to the _utcu_ swelling out of the bolls, a
simile which is also essentially Peruvian. These figures show that the
_yaravi_ could not possibly have been composed anywhere but in the land
where the _achancaray_ and the _utcu_ flourish within sight of the snows
of the Andes. General Mitré objects to a copper-coloured beauty being
praised for her fairness, and to her skin being compared with snow. The
Ynca princesses, as we know from some ancient pictures and descriptions,
were naturally much fairer than the common people, and this striking
difference would as naturally lead to fairness of skin being prized,
celebrated, exaggerated, and, by a poetical licence, compared with the
fairest thing in the Peruvian landscape.
Still referring to an erroneous reading, General Mitré objects that the
Ynca says:--“Take this ring in thy hand, that thou mayest never forget
that it is thy duty to show clemency to all. Rise, thou art a
hero,”--which, he suggests, must be an idea taken from arming knights in
the middle ages. Possibly; but the Ynca never makes such a speech in the
authentic text[51] of _Ollantay_. He says:--“Receive this _head dress_,
that thou mayest command my army, and this arrow, that I destine for
you.” The presentation of a head-dress is a peculiarly Yncarial
ceremony, and this passage is one among many which furnish strong
internal proofs of the antiquity of the drama.
The critic then proceeds to refer to three more alleged anachronisms.
The deceased Ynca is said to be spoken of as buried, when Yncas were
always embalmed, and the bodies preserved in the temple; black is
mentioned as the colour for mourning, when the Yncas used grey; and the
city of Cuzco is said to have elected a new Ynca, though the Peruvian
monarchy was hereditary. The replies are that the word _pampasacta_ from
_pampani_, to bury, is used, in the oldest songs, for interments of
every kind; that the word for mourning, in the authentic version, is
not _yana_ (black), but _ccica_ (grey); and that the great men of Cuzco,
in the cases of this very Ynca Yupanqui (according to Cieza de Leon) and
others, did select the sovereign under special circumstances.
The next objection is that the Ynca, after pardoning Ollantay, appointed
him to be his successor and invested him with the fringe; which, it is
contended, is historically false, and impossible in ancient Peru. But
the Ynca merely invested Ollantay with the insignia of his rank as a
great chief (the _yellow_ fringe, not the _crimson_ fringe peculiar to
the sovereign), and appointed him to rule at Cuzco during the
sovereign’s absence, a very different thing. Such appointments were of
constant occurrence, and are recorded over and over again by Cieza de
Leon.
Thus General Mitré fails to establish the existence of a single allusion
to things of European origin in the drama of _Ollantay_.
Treating of the one comic character in the piece, the servant of
Ollantay, and referring to his frequent use of puns and expressions with
double meanings, the General contends that his wit is Andalusian, and
that it is contrary to the genius of the Quichua language. In reality,
the speeches of this servant, Piqui Chaqui, are so thoroughly native and
of the soil, his allusions and double meanings are so hidden, that no
Spaniard--no one but a native--could have written or even conceived
them. In one of the Quichua plays, written by Spanish priests, in my
possession, there is a “gracioso” named Quespillo, whose fun is broad
and without a sign of _double entendre_. If Quespillo is a Spanish
creation, Piqui-chaqui is as certainly of native conception. This is one
strong proof that _Ollantay_, differing so completely in all respects
from the Quichua religious dramas prepared by Spanish priests, is of
pure native origin.
Next, General Mitré compares a simple speech of Urco-huaranca, the
general of Ollantay, with an enumeration of forces in Homer; a reference
to his services, made by Ollantay, to some speech in the Spanish drama
of the Cid Campeador; and the election of Ollantay by his army, to an
election by the Prætorian guard described by Tacitus. These allusions
are too far-fetched and vague to need special replies; but they require
wonderful erudition on the part of General Mitré’s imaginary Spanish
author. Rumi-ñaui, in order to make Ollantay think that he had been
ill-treated by the Ynca, mutilated his face. Zopyrus, in the story told
by Herodotus, for a similar purpose, cut off his nose and ears, which
Rumi-ñaui did not do. Nevertheless, General Mitré jumps at the
conclusion that the idea must have been copied from Herodotus. It will
be remembered that the story of the mutilation of Rumi-ñaui is preserved
on an ancient piece of Ynca pottery.
General Mitré then quotes a speech of Ollantay, when he receives the
Ynca’s pardon, from my book, a text which he had all along repudiated,
in order to use the Dominican text as better suited to his purpose. His
criticism on this speech is sound, but the lines I inserted were
evidently interpolated by the person who arranged the drama for acting.
I had, consequently, placed them in brackets as doubtful, and noted
their omission by Von Tschudi and Barranca, a fact which the General
does not mention. The passage is not authentic, and would be omitted in
a properly revised version. It is in fact omitted by Zegarra. But this
use, by General Mitré, first of one text and then of another, as it
happens to suit his purpose, is not conducive to the proper object of
criticism, namely, the discovery of truth. It shows also that his
critical essay is premature, and that it should not have been attempted
until all the versions had been critically examined and collated, and an
authoritative text established.
The octo-syllabic metre in which the drama is written was also used by
Spanish dramatists, and, consequently, according to General Mitré, the
drama of _Ollantay_ was written by a Spaniard. But it is also a native
Peruvian metre. The ancient song given by Garcilasso de la Vega, though
printed in lines of four syllables, is really octo-syllabic. These
eight-syllable lines are composed with great facility in many languages,
and are natural to the Quichua, most of the ancient songs in the
collection of Dr. Justiniani being octo-syllabic. Consequently, though
also used in Spanish literature, they do not therefore indicate a
Spanish origin.
The greater part of General Mitré’s argument amounts to little more than
this. There is a river in Macedon, and there is a river in Monmouth,
therefore Macedon and Monmouth are the same place. It is a very old
argument, but it has never been looked upon as conclusive. The General’s
theory requires an unknown Spanish author living in the eighteenth
century, and writing in the Quichua language, of portentous erudition,
who borrowed his ideas from the Pentateuch, the Song of Solomon, Homer,
Tacitus, Herodotus, Shakespeare, Lope de Vega, Mrs. Ratcliffe, and the
ballads of the Cid; and who yet excluded the most distant allusion to
Christianity or to anything Spanish. He could not have been a priest,
for we possess Quichua plays composed by Spanish priests, and they are
entirely and radically different from _Ollantay_, containing, as was
inevitable, constant allusions to Christianity, and none to the classic
authors of antiquity. Yet the imaginary author must have known Quichua
perfectly, in its earliest and most archaic form, and have been versed
in all the plays upon words and double meanings used by initiated
natives. It may safely be affirmed that no such prodigy ever existed in
the eighteenth century, and, consequently, the General’s theory falls to
pieces like a house of cards.
At the same time, General Mitré has done good service to literature by
the publication of this elaborate criticism. Every argument that the
ingenuity of an accomplished scholar could bring forward against the
authenticity of _Ollantay_ has been adduced. Quichua students now know
all that can possibly be said against the antiquity of the play, and
they know that what is not based on incorrect readings, is far-fetched
and fanciful. The former considerations which led them to the conclusion
that most of the dialogues and songs dated from the time of the Yncas,
remain in full force, unshaken by anything General Mitré has written.
The new points he has raised, prove to be either based on corrupt
readings, or to be of no validity in themselves.
It is gratifying to find that the rich and interesting language of the
Yncas continues to be studied by ardent young Peruvian scholars. Among
them is Dr. Martin Antonio Mujica, a native of Huancavelica, who is
making Quichua a serious study, and has suggested some changes in the
accepted orthography, based on sound principles.[52] There is much yet
to learn in this important branch of investigation, and much useful work
to be done. A really critical text of _Ollantay_ is a desideratum. There
are many ancient Quichua songs, possibly other dramas, in private
libraries. These should be diligently sought out, edited, and printed,
with translations. A dictionary should be undertaken, with references to
all the words which occur in the writings of ancient authors. There is a
wide field and a noble one, for young students in the land of the Yncas,
which is well deserving of careful, diligent, and enthusiastic
cultivation. Such discouraging criticisms as that of General Mitré
should have no depressing effect. They should rather arouse the student
to fresh efforts, both to secure the purity of his texts, and to
illustrate their meaning by the acquisition of wider knowledge, and the
cultivation of critical and accurate habits of thought.
Meanwhile, the conclusion that the drama of _Ollantay_ is of Ynca
origin, having withstood all the assaults of General Mitré’s criticism,
remains more firmly established, and on securer ground than before. The
unsuccessful attack is an additional source of strength.
A PERUVIAN LOVE STORY.
The assertion of General Mitré that conjugal devotion was not among the
virtues of the ancient Peruvians, induces me to relate a story which is
told by Miguel Cavello Balboa.[53] The events it records took place
during the war between Huascar and Atahualpa. It, therefore, illustrates
the closing chapters of the present volume.[54]
On the death of the great Ynca Huayna Ccapac in the province of Quito,
he was succeeded by his legitimate son Huascar at Cuzco; while the son
who was with him, named Atahualpa, remained at the head of an army at
Quito. But the body of the deceased sovereign was sent to Cuzco,
accompanied by the widowed queen, Mama Rahua Ocllo, and her daughter the
Princess Chuqui Uzpay, and by four venerable councillors who were
executors of Huayna Ccapac. On approaching Cuzco these venerable men
were arrested, ordered to explain why Atahualpa had remained behind,
and, their defence not being satisfactory, they were put to death. The
principal executor, who thus suffered, was named Auqui Tupac Yupanqui.
The Queen, Mama Rahua Ocllo, was much shocked at this cruelty on the
part of her son Huascar. After the funeral ceremonies, the new
sovereign desired to marry his sister Chuqui Uzpay, and, after much
hesitation, the Queen Mother reluctantly gave her consent.
Young Quilaco Yupanqui, a son of the murdered executor, Auqui Tupac
Yupanqui, was sent by Atahualpa as an envoy to his brother Huascar. On
reaching the valley of Xaquixaguana, Quilaco received a secret message
from the Queen Mother, who loved him dearly, for he was a foster-brother
of her child, the young queen Chuqui Uzpay. The Queen Mother ordered a
procession of damsels to come out and meet the envoy; among whom there
was one more beautiful than all the rest, named Curi-coyllur.
At the coronation of Huascar, the chief of the valley of Yca arrived
from the coast with a lovely daughter named Chumbillaya. She inspired
the Ynca with a violent passion, and he gave her the name of
Curi-coyllur, the “golden star.” She bore him a daughter and died soon
afterwards. His sister Corvaticlla, a beloved friend of Curi-coyllur,
brought up the child with great care in a house near Cuzco, and her
beauty was so marvellous that she inherited her mother’s name of
Curi-coyllur.
Curi-coyllur was fifteen when the girls assembled to meet the young
envoy from Quito at Siquillabamba. Quilaco fell in love with her. He
went on to Cuzco, and, finding that the Ynca Huascar had gone to Calca
in the vale of Vilcamayu, he hurried thither, and laid the presents from
the Ynca’s brother Atahualpa at his feet. Huascar spurned both envoy
and presents, and dismissed Quilaco with disdain. Quilaco returned to
Cuzco, and told the queens what had befallen him at Calca. The guardian
of Curi-coyllur, on hearing of his love, allowed him to visit the young
girl. A few days afterwards Huascar sent him back with a message to
Atahualpa, to the effect that he would be closely followed by an army to
enforce obedience.
One day, at early dawn, Curi-coyllur was praying for the return of her
lover. When a labourer appeared with his _taclla_ (plough) on his
shoulder, she mistook it for the _chuqui_ (lance) of Quilaco. At last a
troop of strangers appeared on the hill, taking the way to Xaquixaguana.
She was shedding tears, when her lover came out of a field of maize
close by, and threw himself at her feet. Quilaco told her and her aunt
all that had happened at Cuzco, and asked Corvaticlla for the hand of
her niece. It was promised when the times had become more quiet, and
Quilaco continued his journey to Quito.
The great war then broke out between the two brothers, Huascar and
Atahualpa. Quilaco had promised to return to Curi-coyllur in three
years, and four had elapsed. Huascar was on the point of marrying her to
one of his captains. She cut her hair, put on the dress of one of her
servants, painted her face according to the usage of those who go to
war, and mixed herself amongst the camp followers of the army of
Huascar. The Ynca’s general, named Huanca Auqui, had retreated to the
valley of Xauxa, where he met the reinforcements from Cuzco, and was
superseded by Mayta Yupanqui. The army of Atahualpa, under the command
of Quizquiz, advanced to Tarma, and the hostile forces met between Tarma
and Xauxa. The battle lasted all day, but eventually the army of Huascar
was defeated with great slaughter. Quilaco was wounded by an arrow, and
fell on a heap of dead, while his men were too much occupied in chasing
the fugitives to notice his fall.
Quilaco would have perished miserably from loss of blood; but he saw a
lad searching among the bodies, and cried for help. The boy ran to him,
drew out the arrow, and staunched the wound. He carried the wounded man
to the banks of a stream, and washed the dirt off his face and body.
Quilaco asked the motive of such kindness in a follower of Huascar.[55]
“Brother,” said the lad, “I am a native of this place; my name is Titu;
I seek no advantage.” He collected sticks, lighted a fire to warm the
wounded chief; and so they passed the night. Next day the boy conveyed
Quilaco to a neighbouring hut until he should be cured. A search was
made for him by order of Quizquiz, and his disappearance caused profound
sadness in the host of Atahualpa.
For many months Quilaco was unable to rise from his bed, and in the
interval great events happened. Huascar was dethroned, his family was
massacred at Cuzco, the usurper advanced to Caxamarca, Pizarro arrived
on the coast with his Spaniards, and Atahualpa was made prisoner by
them. Titu used to leave the hut, and collect news from passers-by on
the great road. One day he told Quilaco that the power of Atahualpa and
his generals had departed, and that strange men from the sea were now
the rulers of the country. Titu spoke of the noble bearing and of the
justice of the Viracochas, as he called the Spaniards, looking upon them
as messengers from God. He entreated and at last persuaded the chief,
who was now able to walk, to appear before the Spanish leader, who had
arrived in the valley. It was the famous Hernando de Soto. They went
together, and Titu, with the aid of an interpreter, related his history
to the proud but noble-minded conqueror. Quilaco now for the first time
discovered that Titu was his long-lost love, his Curi-coyllur, whom he
had never hoped to see again.
They were baptized under the names of Hernando Yupanqui and Leonora
Curi-coyllur, and married in conformity with the laws of the Church. But
the young chief only survived for two years. The widow afterwards lived
with Hernando de Soto, and bore him several children--Leonora de Soto,
who married Fernando Carrillo, notary to his Majesty, and lived at
Cuzco; Juana de Soto; Pedro de Soto; and others.
I know not whether the story of Quilaco and Curi-coyllur was ever
dramatised like that of Ollantay. But we need not doubt that the
“brilliant erudition”[56] of General Mitré would, if the play were
brought to light, soon announce to us that it was a “_comedia de capa y
espada_”, with all the ideas and incidents borrowed from Homer,
Herodotus, Tacitus, the Pentateuch, the Song of Solomon, Shakespeare,
Lope de Vega, Mrs. Ratcliffe, and the Cid Campeador. Too much erudition
is surely a dangerous thing.
The other story told by Balboa, of the love of Elfquen Pisan, Chief of
Lambayeque, for the beautiful Chestan Xecfuin, is equally romantic,
equally of native origin, and has as little to do with the old world
classics as _Ollantay_. Among these people there was pride of caste,
magnanimity towards the vanquished, a martial spirit, filial love, and
conjugal devotion; and these sentiments found natural expression in
their literature. Cieza de Leon, in the following pages, bears ample
testimony to Ynca civilisation.
SECOND PART
OF THE
CHRONICLE OF PERU,
WHICH TREATS OF THE LORDSHIP OF THE INCAS YUPANQUIS, AND
OF THEIR GREAT DEEDS AND GOVERNMENT.
WRITTEN BY
PEDRO DE CIEZA DE LEON.
SECOND PART
OF THE
CHRONICLE OF PERU