"Behold Cuzco!" exclaimed our Indian guide, as, throwing himself from
his horse, he knelt in adoration of the glorious luminary, whose rays
were just then throwing a mantle of gold over the crumbling walls of a
mighty fortress, which protected the holy city of his ancestors, the
capital of the Incas.
We had just reached the brow of an elevated ridge which forms one side
of the fertile and extensive valley in which Cuzco stands, built, like
ancient Rome, on a number of hills or slight rises. To the north of the
city, on the summit of a lofty eminence, appeared the still dark and
frowning fortress of Cyclopean architecture, composed of stones of vast
magnitude. When I afterwards visited it, I was surprised to find the
extraordinary nicety with which, without any cement, they were joined
together; and I cannot tell with what machinery the Peruvians could have
raised blocks so enormous to such heights, or how they could have fitted
them, shaped as they are in so many various forms, with exactness so
remarkable. Had I believed in the existence of giants, I should have
supposed that they alone could have lifted such vast masses into the
positions they hold. Many of the modern residences of the conquerors
stand on the foundations of the ancient buildings of the Peruvians, and
from among them we saw towering upwards the spires and towers of the
magnificent cathedral, of the convents of Saint Augustine and La Merced,
and of a number of other fine churches. We had not long to contemplate
this scene of the ruins of the past and of modern splendour, as it was
necessary to reach the city before dark; and the setting sun warned us
that we had not much time to lose. We were questioned, when we entered,
whence we had come; but before we could speak, our Indian attendant
stepped forward and gave an answer that satisfied the guard, and we
passed on.
The inn we went to was the best in the city, but it could boast of
affording us little comfort, though, as we were accustomed to rough
fare, that mattered little. At daybreak I was on foot, as I was anxious
to see the city; and with our Indian attendant as my guide, I wandered
through the larger portion of it before breakfast. We reached a
collection of ruined walls, composed of huge masses of rock.
"On this spot," said the Indian, bending reverentially towards the sun,
just then rising over the walls of the city, "stood the great temple
where our fathers worshipped the God in whom they trusted; away to the
right, where now those convent walls appear, were the residences of the
beautiful virgins of the sun; and in these fields of corn and lucerne
which surround us were once laid out the magnificent gardens of the
temple, filled with menageries of all the animals of our country, with
aviaries of birds of many-coloured plumage, with fountains, and trees,
and flowers, and ornaments of vast size, of gold and silver and precious
stones, many in the form of the shrubs and plants among which they
stood, and of workmanship so admirable that they seemed to vie with them
in elegance and beauty. But the greedy spoiler came, and behold,
stranger, what he made it! Alas! this garden is but an example of the
condition to which our unhappy country has been reduced."
The Indian was silent, and seemed lost in gloomy reflection. I, too,
thought of the past; and as I did so, the magnificent Temple of the Sun
appeared before me, with its walls resplendent with the golden ornaments
which surrounded them, and its wide courts crowded with votaries in
their many-coloured costumes and head-dresses and robes of feathers,
eagerly watching for the rising of the luminary they worshipped. I
fancied I could hear their voices, and could see the mighty mass below
me, their plumes waving in the breeze as they joined the joyous shout
raised by their friends above them.
"Yes, a day of bitter retribution will ere long arrive," exclaimed my
companion. The deep, low, and concentrated tone of his voice roused me
from my reveries, he appeared unconscious that he had spoken. "Come,
sir," he said, "we will proceed."
As I walked through the streets of Cuzco. I was struck with the air of
antiquity which many of the buildings wore; and I could not help
regretting the worse than Gothic cruelty and ignorance of the Spaniards,
which had destroyed the numberless magnificent edifices of its former
inhabitants. We spent three days in the city, and on the fourth took
our departure, accompanied by Ithulpo. I learned that twenty leagues
only from the city commence the territories of the unsubdued Indians,
who will allow no stranger to enter their country. As I looked towards
the distant mountains which form their bulwarks, I fancied that it must
be a land full of romance and interest, and I longed to penetrate into
it. I was before long to have my wish gratified, through means I little
contemplated.
Our course was, however, now in a contrary direction, north and west,
towards the sea. We had proceeded two days' journey, when, at the
urgent request of Ithulpo, we turned aside to rest at a town among the
mountains.
"It is inhabited chiefly by my people," he observed. "To-morrow they
perform a ceremony, at which I wish to assist, and which you will like
to behold."
We ascended by a narrow and winding path among the mountains to the
town, where we were lodged in the best house it possessed, and where the
inhabitants vied with each other in paying us attention. The next
morning, when I went out, I was surprised to see the place crowded with
Indians dressed in the ancient costume of the country, of which
certainly the pictures I have since seen in England and France do not
give at all a correct idea. They wore feather head-dresses, and their
cloaks and trains were likewise trimmed with feathers; and if not quite
so picturesque, were more suited to their convenience than the scanty
feather kilts in which they are made to appear. Having breakfasted, my
father and I followed the crowd at a little distance to see what was
going to occur. Among them we observed, raised above their heads, a
gaily ornamented litter or covered palanquin, in which sat a person
richly dressed with the regal border or red fringe of the Incas on his
head. We learnt that he was intended to represent Atahualpa. On
pressed the crowd with shouts and songs towards a large square before
us; there they halted, when from some buildings in which they had been
concealed, appeared another party dressed in armour with guns in their
hands, and one or two small pieces of cannon following them. They all
wore masks, and were intended to represent Spaniards. One more hideous
than the rest was evidently Pizarro, and by his side stood the priest
Vicente de Yalverde. They approached the litter, and the monk addressed
the Inca in a long harangue. Atahualpa replied, when a terrific shriek
was heard; the litter was overthrown, and the Inca was dragged among the
Spaniards. A mock combat took place, but the Indians were driven back;
and then arose the most melancholy cries and groans ever heard. It was
no imitated grief, for to such a pitch had they worked up their
imaginations, that they really fancied that their Inca was again torn
from them. At last they retired, and a new scene in the drama
commenced.
A number of Spaniards came forth from the building to which they had
carried off the Inca, and seated themselves as if holding a council.
Atahualpa was next brought out. He stood, with downcast looks and hands
bound, before his judges, waiting his doom. One man only pleaded his
cause, the others brought forth numberless arguments for his
condemnation--a good satire on those by which the real Inca was judged
to be worthy of death. At length one standing up, pronounced the
representative Atahualpa guilty, ordering him to immediate execution.
No sooner were the words uttered, than there arose from the crowd such
shrieks and cries, that I could scarcely believe them to be feigned.
Amid them the Inca was led to the place of execution, already prepared,
where stood a man with ferocious aspect with an axe uplifted in his
hands. The axe fell, and while the cries and groans increased, as I saw
a bloody head lifted up before me, I thought for an instant that the man
had really been killed. I soon, however, saw that the bloody head was
merely a block of wood, while a piece of cloth was thrown over the
person who had represented the Inca to conceal him from view. The
Indians, however, appeared to be as deeply affected with grief as if
they had really just seen their beloved monarch slaughtered before their
eyes, to such a pitch were their imaginations worked up by the scene
which had been acted. Had I not witnessed what I describe, I could
scarcely have believed it possible; and as the Cholas sang their songs
of mourning, the tears streamed down their cheeks, the groans seemed to
come from the hearts of the men, and every countenance wore an
expression of the most profound sorrow. Just at that moment I saw a man
hurrying up the path which led into the village from the valley below.
Almost breathless with exertion, he uttered a few words to the first he
met. His communication flew like lightning among the crowd. They
scattered in every direction, as if a thunderbolt had fallen among them.
Masks were torn off and hastily concealed, dresses were changed, and
the block and axe, and all the things connected with the representation,
were carried away, while the people ran along the streets, and shut
themselves up in their houses in evident fright.
We were not long in ascertaining the cause of the commotion. As I
watched the approach to the town, I caught sight of the bayonet and
shako of a soldier rising above the brow of a hill. Another and another
followed, till about twenty men and two Spanish officers formed in the
square of the town. That they had come for no good purpose, was soon
made manifest by their charging a small party of the Indians who had
neglected to escape from the square. So unexpected was the attack, that
some were captured, while others were cruelly wounded before they could
conceal themselves. The soldiers having thus whetted their thirst for
blood, hurried from cottage to cottage, breaking open the doors and
dragging out the terrified inmates. Those who were found with a mask,
or any portion of the ancient Indian costume about them, proving that
they had taken part in the forbidden representation, were without mercy
shot, in spite of the entreaties and cries of their wives and children.
A considerable number were also dragged from their huts and bound
together with ropes, preparatory to being carried off as prisoners.
We had hitherto remained concealed in the house where we had rested for
the night, and which had been unvisited by the soldiers. Had we been
able to leave the village unobserved, we would gladly have done so to
avoid contact with the troops, though we had no reason to apprehend
ill-treatment from them. My father had desired Ithulpo to have our
horses and baggage ready to start at a moment's notice. While we
remained shut up in the house, we could only judge of what was going on
by the sounds we heard. The shots and cries had grown fainter, and
thinking that the soldiers must have got to a distance, we considered
this a good opportunity to set out. Ithulpo had been watching them
through a hole in the wall of an enclosure, at a little distance from
the cottage within which our animals were to be kept ready. I looked
cautiously out of the door of the cottage, and seeing no one near, I ran
round to where Ithulpo was posted. I told him that we were ready to
start.
"I was coming to tell you that now is our time to start," he replied.
"I wish that I was certain that all the soldiers are together, for I am
afraid that some may be left to guard the outlet to the village; but we
must run the risk."
We accordingly brought the horses round. Our baggage was soon strapped
on, and mounting immediately, we set off at a brisk pace, followed by
the well-wishes of our host, towards the only outlet to the village.
Several houses were in flames, and more than one apparently dead Indian
met our view. A short hour had made a sad change in the peaceful
village, which now looked as if it had been stormed and sacked by a
cruel enemy. We had no time to stop to examine whether any of the
prostrate forms we saw were still alive, so we pushed on. Just,
however, as we reached the top of the pathway down the mountain, a party
of soldiers, with an officer at their head, appeared suddenly before us.
It was impossible to escape notice, so we attempted to pass them.
"Stop!" cried the officer, presenting a pistol. "Who are you?"
"English travellers, on the road to Lima," answered my father.
"Say rather English abettors of rebels," exclaimed the officer fiercely.
"We find you in a village encouraging the ignorant people by your
presence to break the law. You are our prisoners."
My father pleaded in vain that we had no intention of breaking the law,
or encouraging others to do so.
"You may make your excuse to the government of Lima," answered the
officer; and he ordered us to remain where we were on pain of being
shot.
A number of prisoners were collected together, and we had no doubt that
he had heard from one of them of our being present at the forbidden
ceremony we had witnessed. The bugle now sounded the recall, and soon
afterwards the rest of the soldiers returned, dragging after them a
number more of wretched prisoners. They appeared to be the principal
people in the village; and whether guilty or not of the crimes charged
against them, they were dragged away from their homes, to undergo more
suffering on their road to their place of trial than they would deserve
even if proved guilty.
The unhappy men were lashed together by the wrists two and two, all
being likewise joined by a single stout rope; while blows and curses
urged them on if they did not move fast enough to please their tyrants.
Had the inhabitants of the village united bravely, they might have
overpowered the soldiers and rescued their friends; but terror-stricken,
they were afraid to show themselves.
Neither my father nor I were in any way molested, but a soldier was
placed on each side of us and our Indian attendant, with orders to shoot
us if we attempted to escape, a command they seemed very ready to obey.
The word was then given to move on, and we commenced our descent of the
mountain, a body of eight soldiers bringing up the rear. We addressed
the officers several times to learn why we were thus treated, but the
only answer the one in command deigned to make was--
"You are found in communication with rebel Indians, and there are
suspicions against you."
I thought of our having aided the escape of the Indian chief Manco, and
feared that by some means the circumstance might have become known. If
such were the case, I trembled for the safety of my dear mother and
brothers and sisters. I thought of all the insults and annoyance to
which they must have been subjected while our house was being searched,
and my father's papers and books being examined, which I knew they would
be, by the officers of justice. I did not, however, communicate my
thoughts to my father, as I felt that if it suggested the same idea to
him, it would cause him much pain and anxiety.
I endeavoured therefore, as we rode on, to amuse him by conversation;
but I am afraid I succeeded very ill. Ithulpo was very gloomy and
silent, evidently brooding over the wrongs his countrymen had so long
endured, and were still receiving, from their oppressors. At the foot
of the mountain we found another party of soldiers concealed in a wood,
and guarding the horses of our escort. The whole then mounted; and as
we proceeded at a more rapid rate, the captive Indians were goaded on
more cruelly to keep up with us. Ithulpo still said not a word; but as
his eyes were now and then turned towards his countrymen, I observed
that looks of intelligence were exchanged between them. Some shrieked
with pain; others returned glances of rage at their tormentors; a few
almost fainted, till stirred up again to proceed; and two, who had been
wounded, actually dropped down, and as they were left in the rear, the
report of musketry told what had been their fate. The fear of a similar
catastrophe deterred others from giving in while they had any strength
remaining to drag onwards their weary limbs.
My father's kind heart was bursting with indignation and grief; but from
the surly answers he received, he saw that it would be hopeless to plead
for the unhappy beings.
"A day of bitter retribution will come, ere long, for this tyranny," he
observed. "Such conduct must arouse even the most long-enduring from
their apathy. Even as it is, how entirely has Spain failed to reap any
benefit from her apparently glorious conquest of this new world! or
rather, I may say, from the mode in which that conquest was conducted,
it has brought on her a heavy curse instead of a blessing. Since she
gained America, she has gradually declined in wealth, intelligence, and
power; and if I mistake not the signs of the times, these beautiful
provinces will soon be wrested from her, though, alas, the seeds of
misgovernment and bigotry which she planted, will take ages more to
eradicate."
Subsequent events, as my readers know, proved the correctness of my
father's observations. Spain no longer holds sway over any part of the
American continent; and the colonies she has planted, ever since
constantly plunged in civil war and anarchy, have been far outstripped
in civilisation by those peopled by the Anglo-Saxon race.