Immense Amount Of Treasure--Its Division Among The Troops--
Rumors Of A Rising--Trial Of The Inca--His Execution--Reflections
1533
The arrival of Almagro produced a considerable change in Pizarro's
prospects, since it enabled him to resume active operations, and push
forward his conquests in the interior. The only obstacle in his way was
the Inca's ransom, and the Spaniards had patiently waited, till the return
of the emissaries from Cuzco swelled the treasure to a large amount,
though still below the stipulated limit. But now their avarice got the
better of their forbearance, and they called loudly for the immediate
division of the gold. To wait longer would only be to invite the assault
of their enemies, allured by a bait so attractive. While the treasure
remained uncounted, no man knew its value, nor what was to be his own
portion. It was better to distribute it at once, and let every one possess
and defend his own. Several, moreover, were now disposed to return
home, and take their share of the gold with them, where they could place
it in safety. But these were few, while much the larger part were only
anxious to leave their present quarters, and march at once to Cuzco.
More gold, they thought, awaited them in that capital, than they could get
here by prolonging their stay; while every hour was precious, to prevent
the inhabitants from secreting their treasures, of which design they had
already given indication.
Pizarro was especially moved by the last consideration; and he felt, that,
without the capital, he could not hope to become master of the empire.
Without further delay, the division of the treasure was agreed upon.
Yet, before making this, it was necessary to reduce the whole to ingots of
a uniform standard, for the spoil was composed of an infinite variety of
articles, in which the gold was of very different degrees of purity. These
articles consisted of goblets, ewers, salvers, vases of every shape and
size, ornaments and utensils for the temples and the royal palaces, tiles
and plates for the decoration of the public edifices, curious imitations of
different plants and animals. Among the plants, the most beautiful was
the Indian corn, in which the golden ear was sheathed in its broad leaves
of silver, from which hung a rich tassel of threads of the same precious
metal. A fountain was also much admired, which sent up a sparkling jet
of gold, while birds and animals of the same material played in the
waters at its base. The delicacy of the workmanship of some of these,
and the beauty and ingenuity of the design, attracted the admiration of
better judges than the rude Conquerors of Peru.1
Before breaking up these specimens of Indian art, it was determined to
send a quantity, which should be deducted from the royal fifth, to the
Emperor. It would serve as a sample of the ingenuity of the natives, and
would show him the value of his conquests. A number of the most
beautiful articles was selected, to the amount of a hundred thousand
ducats, and Hernando Pizarro was appointed to be the bearer of them to
Spain. He was to obtain an audience of Charles, and, at the same time
that he laid the treasures before him, he was to give an account of the
proceedings of the Conquerors, and to seek a further augmentation of
their powers and dignities.
No man in the army was better qualified for this mission, by his address
and knowledge of affairs, than Hernando Pizarro; no one would be so
likely to urge his suit with effect at the haughty Castilian court. But
other reasons influenced the selection of him at the present juncture.
His former jealousy of Almagro still rankled in his bosom, and he had
beheld that chief's arrival at the camp with feelings of disgust, which he
did not care to conceal. He looked on him as coming to share the spoils
of victory, and defraud his brother of his legitimate honors. Instead of
exchanging the cordial greeting proffered by Almagro at their first
interview, the arrogant cavalier held back in sullen silence. His brother
Francis was greatly displeased at a conduct which threatened to renew
their ancient feud, and he induced Hernando to accompany him to
Almagro's quarters, and make some acknowledgment for his uncourteous
behavior.2 But, notwithstanding this show of reconciliation, the general
thought the present a favorable opportunity to remove his brother from
the scene of operations, where his factious spirit more than
counterbalanced his eminent services.3
The business of melting down the plate was intrusted to the Indian
goldsmiths, who were thus required to undo the work of their own hands,
They toiled day and night, but such was the quantity to be recast, that it
consumed a full month. When the whole was reduced to bars of a
uniform standard, they were nicely weighed, under the superintendence
of the royal inspectors. The total amount of the gold was found to be
one million, three hundred and twenty-six thousand, five hundred and
thirty nine pesos de oro, which, allowing for the greater value of money
in the sixteenth century, would be equivalent, probably, at the present
time, to near three millions and a half of pounds sterling, or somewhat
less than fifteen millions and a half of dollars.4 The quantity of silver
was estimated at fifty-one thousand six hundred and ten marks. History
affords no parallel of such a booty--and that, too, in the most convertible
form, in ready money, as it were--having fallen to the lot of a little band
of military adventurers, like the Conquerors of Peru. The great object of
the Spanish expeditions in the New World was gold. It is remarkable
that their success should have been so complete. Had they taken the
track of the English, the French, or the Dutch, on the shores of the
northern continent, how different would have been the result! It is
equally worthy of remark, that the wealth thus suddenly acquired, by
diverting them from the slow but surer and more permanent sources of
national prosperity, has in the end glided from their grasp, and left them
among the poorest of the nations of Christendom.
A new difficulty now arose in respect to the division of the treasure.
Almagro's followers claimed to be admitted to a share of it; which, as
they equalled, and indeed, somewhat exceeded in number Pizarro's
company, would reduce the gains of these last very materially. "We
were not here, it is true," said Almagro's soldiers to their comrades, "at
the seizure of the Inca, but we have taken our turn in mounting guard
over him since his capture, have helped you to defend your treasures, and
now give you the means of going forward and securing your conquests.
It is a common cause," they urged, "in which all are equally embarked,
and the gains should be shared equally between us."
But this way of viewing the matter was not at all palatable to Pizarro's
company, who alleged that Atahuallpa's contract had been made
exclusively with them; that they had seized the Inca, had secured the
ransom, had incurred, in short, all the risk of the enterprise, and were not
now disposed to share the fruits of it with every one who came after
them. There was much force, it could not be denied, in this reasoning,
and it was finally settled between the leaders, that Almagro's followers
should resign their pretensions for a stipulated sum of no great amount,
and look to the career now opened to them for carving out their fortunes
for themselves.
This delicate affair being thus harmoniously adjusted, Pizarro prepared,
with all solemnity, for a division of the imperial spoil. The troops were
called together in the great square, and the Spanish commander, "with
the fear of God before his eyes," says the record, "invoked the assistance
of Heaven to do the work before him conscientiously and justly."5 The
appeal may seem somewhat out of place at the distribution of spoil so
unrighteously acquired; yet, in truth, considering the magnitude of the
treasure, and the power assumed by Pizarro to distribute it according to
the respective deserts of the individuals, there were few acts of his life
involving a heavier responsibility. On his present decision might be said
to hang the future fortunes of each one of his followers,--poverty or
independence during the remainder of his days.
The royal fifth was first deducted, including the remittance already sent
to Spain. The share appropriated by Pizarro amounted to fifty-seven
thousand two hundred and twenty-two pesos of gold, and two thousand
three hundred and fifty marks of silver. He had besides this the great
chair or throne of the Inca, of solid gold, and valued at twenty-five
thousand pesos de oro. To his brother Hernando were paid thirty-one
thousand and eighty pesos of gold, and two thousand three hundred and
fifty marks of silver. De Soto received seventeen thousand seven
hundred and forty pesos of gold, and seven hundred and twenty-four
marks of silver. Most of the remaining cavalry, sixty in number,
received each eight thousand eight hundred and eighty pesos of gold, and
three hundred and sixty-two marks of silver, though some had more, and
a few considerably less. The infantry mustered in all one hundred and
five men. Almost one fifth of them were allowed, each, four thousand
four hundred and forty pesos of gold, and one hundred and eighty marks
of silver, half of the compensation of the troopers. The remainder
received one fourth part less; though here again there were exceptions,
and some were obliged to content themselves with a much smaller share
of the spoil.6
The new church of San Francisco, the first Christian temple in Peru, was
endowed with two thousand two hundred and twenty pesos of gold. The
amount assigned to Almagro's company was not excessive, if it was not
more than twenty thousand pesos; 7 and that reserved for the colonists of
San Miguel, which amounted only to fifteen thousand pesos, was
unaccountably small.8 There were among them certain soldiers, who at
an early period of the expedition, as the reader may remember,
abandoned the march, and returned to San Miguel. These, certainly, had
little claim to be remembered in the division of booty. But the greater
part of the colony consisted of invalids, men whose health had been
broken by their previous hardships, but who still, with a stout and willing
heart, did good service in their military post on the sea-coast. On what
grounds they had forfeited their claims to a more ample remuneration, it
is not easy to explain.
Nothing is said, in the partition, of Almagro himself, who, by the terms
of the original contract, might claim an equal share of the spoil with his
associate. As little notice is taken of Luque, the remaining partner.
Luque himself, was, indeed, no longer to be benefited by worldly
treasure. He had died a short time before Almagro's departure from
Panama;9 too soon to learn the full success of the enterprise, which, but
for his exertions, must have failed; too soon to become acquainted with
the achievements and the crimes of Pizarro. But the Licentiate Espinosa,
whom he represented, and who, it appears, had advanced the funds for
the expedition, was still living at St. Domingo, and Luque's pretensions
were explicitly transferred to him. Yet it is unsafe to pronounce, at this
distance of time, on the authority of mere negative testimony; and it must
be admitted to form a strong presumption in favor of Pizarro's general
equity in the distribution, that no complaint of it has reached us from any
of the parties present, nor from contemporary chroniclers.10
The division of the ransom being completed by the Spaniards, there
seemed to be no further obstacle to their resuming active operations, and
commencing the march to Cuzco. But what was to be done with
Atahuallpa? In the determination of this question, whatever was
expedient was just.11 To liberate him would be to set at large the very
man who might prove their most dangerous enemy; one whose birth and
royal station would rally round him the whole nation, place all the
machinery of government at his control, and all its resources,--one, in
short, whose bare word might concentrate all the energies of his people
against the Spaniards, and thus delay for a long period, if not wholly
defeat, the conquest of the country. Yet to hold him in captivity was
attended with scarcely less difficulty; since to guard so important a prize
would require such a division of their force as must greatly cripple its
strength, and how could they expect, by any vigilance, to secure their
prisoner against rescue in the perilous passes of the mountains?
The Inca himself now loudly demanded his freedom. The proposed
amount of the ransom had, indeed, not been fully paid. It may be
doubted whether it ever would have been, considering the
embarrassments thrown in the way by the guardians of the temples, who
seemed disposed to secrete the treasures, rather than despoil these sacred
depositories to satisfy the cupidity of the strangers. It was unlucky, too,
for the Indian monarch, that much of the gold, and that of the best
quality, consisted of flat plates or tiles, which, however valuable, lay in a
compact form that did little towards swelling the heap. But an immense
amount had been already realized, and it would have been a still greater
one, the Inca might allege, but for the impatience of the Spaniards. At
all events, it was a magnificent ransom, such as was never paid by prince
or potentate before.
These considerations Atahuallpa urged on several of the cavaliers, and
especially on Hernando de Soto, who was on terms of more familiarity
with him than Pizarro. De Soto reported Atahuallpa's demands to his
leader; but the latter evaded a direct reply. He did not disclose the dark
purposes over which his mind was brooding.12 Not long afterward he
caused the notary to prepare an instrument, in which he fully acquitted
the Inca of further obligation in respect to the ransom. This he
commanded to be publicly proclaimed in the camp, while at the same
time he openly declared that the safety of the Spaniards required, that the
Inca should be detained in confinement until they were strengthened by
additional reinforcements.13
Meanwhile the old rumors of a meditated attack by the natives began to
be current among the soldiers. They were repeated from one to another,
gaining something by every repetition. An immense army, it was
reported, was mustering at Quito, the land of Atahuallpa's birth, and
thirty thousand Caribs were on their way to support it.14 The Caribs
were distributed by the early Spaniards rather indiscriminately over the
different parts of America, being invested with peculiar horrors as a race
of cannibals.
It was not easy to trace the origin of these rumors. There was in the
camp a considerable number of Indians, who belonged to the party of
Huascar, and who were, of course, hostile to Atahuallpa. But his worst
enemy was Felipillo, the interpreter from Tumbez, already mentioned in
these pages. This youth had conceived a passion, or, as some say, had
been detected in an intrigue with, one of the royal concubines.15 The
circumstance had reached the ears of Atahuallpa, who felt himself deeply
outraged by it. "That such an insult should have been offered by so base
a person was an indignity," he said, "more difficult to bear than his
imprisonment";16 and he told Pizarro, "that, by the Peruvian law, it
could be expiated, not by the criminal's own death alone, but by that of
his whole family and kindred." 17 But Felipillo was too important to the
Spaniards to be dealt with so summarily; nor did they probably attach
such consequence to an offence which, if report be true, they had
countenanced by their own example.18 Felipillo, however, soon learned
the state of the Inca's feelings towards himself, and from that moment he
regarded him with deadly hatred. Unfortunately, his malignant temper
found ready means for its indulgence.
The rumors of a rising among the natives pointed to Atahuallpa as the
author of it. Challcuchima was examined on the subject, but avowed his
entire ignorance of any such design, which he pronounced a malicious
slander. Pizarro next laid the matter before the Inca himself, repeating to
him the stories in circulation, with the air of one who believed them
"What treason is this," said the general, "that you have meditated against
me,--me, who have ever treated you with honor, confiding in your words,
as in those of a brother?" "You jest," replied the Inca, who, perhaps, did
not feel the weight of this confidence; "you are always jesting with me.
How could I or my people think of conspiring against men so valiant as
the Spaniards? Do not jest with me thus, I beseech you."19 "This,"
continues Pizarro's secretary, "he said in the most composed and natural
manner, smiling all the while to dissemble his falsehood, so that we were
all amazed to find such cunning in a barbarian." 20
But it was not with cunning, but with the consciousness of innocence, as
the event afterwards proved, that Atahuallpa thus spoke to Pizarro. He
readily discerned, however, the causes, perhaps the consequences, of the
accusation. He saw a dark gulf opening beneath his feet; and he was
surrounded by strangers, on none of whom he could lean for counsel or
protection. The life of the captive monarch is usually short; and
Atahuallpa might have learned the truth of this, when he thought of
Huascar. Bitterly did he now lament the absence of Hernando Pizarro,
for, strange as it may seem, the haughty spirit of this cavalier had been
touched by the condition of the royal prisoner, and he had treated him
with a deference which won for him the peculiar regard and confidence
of the Indian. Yet the latter lost no time in endeavoring to efface the
general's suspicions, and to establish his own innocence. "Am I not,"
said he to Pizarro, "a poor captive in your hands? How could I harbor the
designs you impute to me, when I should be the first victim of the
outbreak? And you little know my people, if you think that such a
movement would be made without my orders; when the very birds in my
dominions," said he, with somewhat of an hyperbole, "would scarcely
venture to fly contrary to my will." 21
But these protestations of innocence had little effect on the troops;
among whom the story of a general rising of the natives continued to
gain credit every hour. A large force, it was said, was already gathered
at Guamachucho, not a hundred miles from the camp, and their assault
might be hourly expected. The treasure which the Spaniards had
acquired afforded a tempting prize, and their own alarm was increased
by the apprehension of losing it. The patroles were doubled. The horses
were kept saddled and bridled. The soldiers slept on their arms; Pizarro
went the rounds regularly to see that every sentinel was on his post. The
little army, in short, was in a state of preparation for instant attack.
Men suffering from fear are not likely to be too scrupulous as to the
means of removing the cause of it. Murmurs, mingled with gloomy
menaces, were now heard against the Inca, the author of these
machinations. Many began to demand his life as necessary to the safety
of the army. Among these, the most vehement were Almagro and his
followers. They had not witnessed the seizure of Atahuallpa. They had
no sympathy with him in his fallen state. They regarded him only as an
incumbrance, and their desire now was to push their fortunes in the
country, since they had got so little of the gold of Caxamalca. They were
supported by Riquelme, the treasurer, and by the rest of the royal
officers. These men had been left at San Miguel by Pizarro, who did not
care to have such official spies on his movements. But they had come to
the camp with Almagro, and they loudly demanded the Inca's death, as
indispensable to the tranquillity of the country, and the interests of the
Crown.22
To these dark suggestions Pizarro turned--or seemed to turn--an
unwilling ear, showing visible reluctance to proceed to extreme measures
with his prisoner.23 There were some few, and among others Hernando
de Soto, who supported him in these views, and who regarded such
measures as not at all justified by the evidence of Atahuallpa's guilt. In
this state of things, the Spanish commander determined to send a small
detachment to Guamachucho, to reconnoitre the country and ascertain
what ground there was for the rumors of an insurrection. De Soto was
placed at the head of the expedition, which, as the distance was not great,
would occupy but a few days.
After that cavalier's departure, the agitation among the soldiers, instead
of diminishing, increased to such a degree, that Pizarro, unable to resist
their importunities, consented to bring Atahuallpa to instant trial. It was
but decent, and certainly safer, to have the forms of a trial. A court was
organized, over which the two captains, Pizarro and Almagro were to
preside as judges. An attorney-general was named to prosecute for the
Crown, and counsel was assigned to the prisoner.
The charges preferred against the Inca, drawn up in the form of
interrogatories, were twelve in number. The most important were, that
he had usurped the crown and assassinated his brother Huascar; that he
had squandered the public revenues since the conquest of the country by
the Spaniards, and lavished them on his kindred and his minions; that he
was guilty of idolatry, and of adulterous practices, indulging openly in a
plurality of wives; finally, that he had attempted to excite an insurrection
against the Spaniards.24
These charges, most of which had reference to national usages, or to the
personal relations of the Inca, over which the Spanish conquerors had
clearly no jurisdiction, are so absurd, that they might well provoke a
smile, did they not excite a deeper feeling. The last of the charges was
the only one of moment in such a trial; and the weakness of this may be
inferred from the care taken to bolster it up with the others. The mere
specification of the articles must have been sufficient to show that the
doom of the Inca was already sealed.
A number of Indian witnesses were examined, and their testimony,
filtrated through the interpretation of Felipillo, received, it is said, when
necessary, a very different coloring from that of the original. The
examination was soon ended, and "a warm discussion," as we are assured
by one of Pizarro's own secretaries, "took place in respect to the
probable good or evil that would result from the death of Atahuallpa." 25
It was a question of expediency. He was found guilty,--whether of all the
crimes alleged we are not informed,--and he was sentenced to be burnt
alive in the great square of Caxamalca. The sentence was to be carried
into execution that very night. They were not even to wait for the return
of De Soto, when the information he would bring would go far to
establish the truth or the falsehood of the reports respecting the
insurrection of the natives. It was desirable to obtain the countenance of
Father Valverde to these proceedings, and a copy of the judgment was
submitted to the friar for his signature, which he gave without hesitation,
declaring, that, "in his opinion, the Inca, at all events, deserved death."
26
Yet there were some few in that martial conclave who resisted these
high-handed measures. They considered them as a poor requital of all
the favors bestowed on them by the Inca, who hitherto had received at
their hands nothing but wrong. They objected to the evidence as wholly
insufficient; and they denied the authority of such a tribunal to sit in
judgment on a sovereign prince in the heart of his own dominions. If he
were to be tried, he should be sent to Spain, and his cause brought before
the Emperor, who alone had power to determine it.
But the great majority--and they were ten to one--overruled these
objections, by declaring there was no doubt of Atahuallpa's guilt, and
they were willing to assume the responsibility of his punishment. A full
account of the proceedings would be sent to Castile, and the Emperor
should be informed who were the loyal servants of the Crown, and who
were its enemies. The dispute ran so high, that for a time it menaced an
open and violent rupture; till, at length, convinced that resistance was
fruitless, the weaker party, silenced, but not satisfied, contented
themselves with entering a written protest against these proceedings,
which would leave an indelible stain on the names of all concerned in
them.27
When the sentence was communicated to the Inca, he was greatly
overcome by it. He had, indeed, for some time, looked to such an issue
as probable, and had been heard to intimate as much to those about him.
But the probability of such an event is very different from its certainty, --
and that, too, so sudden and speedy. For a moment, the overwhelming
conviction of it unmanned him, and he exclaimed, with tears in his eyes,-
-"What have I done, or my children, that I should meet such a fate? And
from your hands, too," said he, addressing Pizarro; "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!" In
the most piteous tones, he then implored that his life might be spared,
promising any guaranty that might be required for the safety of every
Spaniard in the army,--promising double the ransom he had already paid,
if time were only given him to obtain it.28
An eyewitness assures us that Pizarro was visibly affected, as he turned
away from the Inca, to whose appeal he had no power to listen, in
opposition to the voice of the army, and to his own sense of what was
due to the security of the country.29 Atahuallpa, finding he had no
power to turn his Conqueror from his purpose, recovered his habitual
self-possession, and from that moment submitted himself to his fate with
the courage of an Indian warrior.
The doom of the Inca was proclaimed by sound of trumpet in the great
square of Caxamalca; and, two hours after sunset, the Spanish soldiery
assembled by torch-light in the plaza to witness the execution of the
sentence. It was on the twenty-ninth of August, 1533- Atahuallpa was
led out chained hand and foot,--for he had been kept in irons ever since
the great excitement had prevailed in the army respecting an assault.
Father Vicente de Valverde was at his side, striving to administer
consolation, and, if possible, to persuade him at this last hour to abjure
his superstition and embrace the religion of his Conquerors. He was
willing to save the soul of his victim from the terrible expiation in the
next world, to which he had so cheerfully consigned his mortal part in
this.
During Atahuallpa's confinement, the friar had repeatedly expounded to
him the Christian doctrines, and the Indian monarch discovered much
acuteness in apprehending the discourse of his teacher. But it had not
carried conviction to his mind, and though he listened with patience, he
had shown no disposition to renounce the faith of his fathers. The
Dominican made a last appeal to him in this solemn hour; and, when
Atahuallpa was bound to the stake, with the fagots that were to kindle his
funeral pile lying around him, Valverde, holding up the cross, besought
him to embrace it and be baptized, promising that, by so doing, the
painful death to which he had been sentenced should be commuted for
the milder form of the garrote,--a mode of punishment by strangulation,
used for criminals in Spain.30
The unhappy monarch asked if this were really so, and, on its being
confirmed by Pizarro, he consented to abjure his own religion, and
receive baptism. The ceremony was performed by Father Valverde, and
the new convert received the name of Juan de Atahuallpa,--the name of
Juan being conferred in honor of John the Baptist, on whose day the
event took place.31
Atahuallpa expressed a desire that his remains might be transported to
Quito, the place of his birth, to be preserved with those of his maternal
ancestors. Then turning to Pizarro, as a last request, he implored him to
take compassion on his young children, and receive them under his
protection. Was there no other one in that dark company who stood
grimly around him, to whom he could look for the protection of his
offspring? Perhaps he thought there was no other so competent to afford
it, and that the wishes so solemnly expressed in that hour might meet
with respect even from his Conqueror. Then, recovering his stoical
bearing, which for a moment had been shaken, he submitted himself
calmly to his fate,-while the Spaniards, gathering around, muttered their
credos for the salvation of his soul!32 Thus by the death of a vile
malefactor perished the last of the Incas!
I have already spoken of the person and the qualities of Atahuallpa. He
had a handsome countenance, though with an expression somewhat too
fierce to be pleasing. His frame was muscular and well-proportioned; his
air commanding; and his deportment in the Spanish quarters had a
degree of refinement, the more interesting that it was touched with
melancholy. He is accused of having been cruel in his wars, and bloody
in his revenge.33 It may be true, but the pencil of an enemy would be
likely to overcharge the shadows of the portrait. He is allowed to have
been bold, high-minded, and liberal.34 All agree that he showed
singular penetration and quickness of perception. His exploits as a
warrior had placed his valor beyond dispute. The best homage to it is
the reluctance shown by the Spaniards to restore him to freedom. They
dreaded him as an enemy, and they had done him too many wrongs to
think that he could be their friend. Yet his conduct towards them from
the first had been most friendly; and they repaid it with imprisonment,
robbery, and death.
The body of the Inca remained on the place of execution through the
night. The following morning it was removed to the church of San
Francisco, where his funeral obsequies were performed with great
solemnity. Pizarro and the principal cavaliers went into mourning, and
the troops listened with devout attention to the service of the dead from
the lips of Father Valverde.35 The ceremony was interrupted by the
sound of loud cries and wailing, as of many voices at the doors of the
church. These were suddenly thrown open, and a number of Indian
women, the wives and sisters of the deceased, rushing up the great aisle,
surrounded the corpse. This was not the way, they cried, to celebrate the
funeral rites of an Inca; and they declared their intention to sacrifice
themselves on his tomb, and bear him company to the land of spirits.
The audience, outraged by this frantic behaviour, told the intruders that
Atahuallpa had died in the faith of a Christian, and that the God of the
Christians abhorred such sacrifices. They then caused the women to be
excluded from the church, and several, retiring to their own quarters, laid
violent hands on themselves, in the vain hope of accompanying their
beloved lord to the bright mansions of the Sun.36
Atahuallpa's remains, notwithstanding his request, were laid in the
cemetery of San Francisco.37 But from thence, as is reported, after the
Spaniards left Caxamalca, they were secretly removed, and carried, as he
had desired, to Quito. The colonists of a later time supposed that some
treasures might have been buried with the body. But, on excavating the
ground, neither treasure nor remains were to be discovered.38
A day or two after these tragic events, Hernando de Soto returned from
his excursion. Great was his astonishment and indignation at learning
what had been done in his absence. He sought out Pizarro at once, and
found him, says the chronicler, "with a great felt hat, by way of
mourning, slouched over his eyes," and in his dress and demeanor
exhibiting all the show of sorrow.39 "You have acted rashly," said De
Soto to him bluntly; "Atahuallpa has been basely slandered. There was
no enemy at Guamachucho; no rising among the natives. I have met with
nothing on the road but demonstrations of good-will, and all is quiet. If
it was necessary to bring the Inca to trial, he should have been taken to
Castile and judged by the Emperor. I would have pledged myself to see
him safe on board the vessel." 40 Pizarro confessed that he had been
precipitate, and said that he had been deceived by Riquelme, Valverde,
and the others. These charges soon reached the ears of the treasurer and
the Dominican, who, in their turn, exculpated themselves, and upbraided
Pizarro to his face, as the only one responsible for the deed. The dispute
ran high; and the parties were heard by the by-slanders to give one
another the lie! 41 This vulgar squabble among the leaders, so soon after
the event, is the best commentary on the iniquity of their own
proceedings and the innocence of the Inca.
The treatment of Atahuallpa, from first to last, forms undoubtedly one of
the darkest chapters in Spanish colonial history. There may have been
massacres perpetrated on a more extended scale, and executions
accompanied with a greater refinement of cruelty. But the blood-stained
annals of the Conquest afford no such example of cold-hearted and
systematic persecution, not of an enemy, but of one whose whole
deportment had been that of a friend and a benefactor.
From the hour that Pizarro and his followers had entered within the
sphere of Atahuallpa's influence, the hand of friendship had been
extended to them by the natives. Their first act, on crossing the
mountains, was to kidnap the monarch and massacre his people. The
seizure of his person might be vindicated, by those who considered the
end as justifying the means, on the ground that it was indispensable to
secure the triumphs of the Cross. But no such apology can be urged for
the massacre of the unarmed and helpless population,--as wanton as it
was wicked.
The long confinement of the Inca had been used by the Conquerors to
wring from him his treasures with the hard gripe of avarice. During the
whole of this dismal period, he had conducted himself with singular
generosity and good faith. He had opened a free passage to the
Spaniards through every part of his empire; and had furnished every
facility for the execution of their plans. When these were accomplished,
and he remained an encumbrance on their hands, notwithstanding their
engagement, expressed or implied, to release him,--and Pizarro, as we
have seen, by a formal act, acquitted his captive of any further obligation
on the score of the ransom,--he was arraigned before a mock tribunal,
and, under pretences equally false and frivolous, was condemned to an
excruciating death. From first to last, the policy of the Spanish
conquerors towards their unhappy victim is stamped with barbarity and
fraud.
It is not easy to acquit Pizarro of being in a great degree responsible for
this policy. His partisans have labored to show, that it was forced on him
by the necessity of the case, and that in the death of the Inca, especially,
he yielded reluctantly to the importunities of others.42 But weak as is
this apology, the historian who has the means of comparing the various
testimony of the period will come to a different conclusion. To him it
will appear, that Pizarro had probably long felt the removal of
Atahuallpa as essential to the success of his enterprise. He foresaw the
odium that would be incurred by the death of his royal captive without
sufficient grounds; while he labored to establish these, he still shrunk
from the responsibility of the deed, and preferred to perpetrate it in
obedience to the suggestions of others, rather than his own. Like many
an unprincipled politician, he wished to reap the benefit of a bad act, and
let others take the blame of it.
Almagro and his followers are reported by Pizarro's secretaries to have
first insisted on the Inca's death. They were loudly supported by the
treasurer and the royal officers, who considered it as indispensable to the
interests of the Crown; and, finally, the rumors of a conspiracy raised the
same cry among the soldiers, and Pizarro, with all his tenderness for his
prisoner, could not refuse to bring him to trial.--The form of a trial was
necessary to give an appearance of fairness to the proceedings. That it
was only form is evident from the indecent haste with which it was
conducted,--the examination of evidence, the sentence, and the
execution, being all on the same day. The multiplication of the charges,
designed to place the guilt of the accused on the strongest ground, had,
from their very number, the opposite effect, proving only the
determination to convict him. If Pizarro had felt the reluctance to his
conviction which he pretended, why did he send De Soto, Atahuallpa's
best friend, away, when the inquiry was to be instituted? Why was the
sentence so summarily executed, as not to afford opportunity, by that
cavalier's return, of disproving the truth of the principal charge,--the only
one, in fact, with which the Spaniards had any concern? The solemn
farce of mourning and deep sorrow affected by Pizarro, who by these
honors to the dead would intimate the sincere regard he had entertained
for the living, was too thin a veil to impose on the most credulous.
It is not intended by these reflections to exculpate the rest of the army,
and especially its officers, from their share in the infamy of the
transaction. But Pizarro, as commander of the army, was mainly
responsible for its measures. For he was not a man to allow his own
authority to be wrested from his grasp, or to yield timidly to the impulses
of others. He did not even yield to his own. His whole career shows
him, whether for good or for evil, to have acted with a cool and
calculating policy.
A story has been often repeated, which refers the motives of Pizarro's
conduct, in some degree at least, to personal resentment. The Inca had
requested one of the Spanish soldiers to write the name of God on his
nail. This the monarch showed to several of his guards successively,
and, as they read it, and each pronounced the same word, the sagacious
mind of the barbarian was delighted with what seemed to him little short
of a miracle,--to which the science of his own nation afforded no
analogy. On showing the writing to Pizarro, that chief remained silent;
and the Inca, finding he could not read, conceived a contempt for the
commander who was even less informed than his soldiers. This he did
not wholly conceal, and Pizarro aware of the cause of it, neither forgot
nor forgave it.43 The anecdote is reported not on the highest authority.
It may be true; but it is unnecessary to look for the motives of Pizarro's
conduct in personal pique, when so many proofs are to be discerned of a
dark and deliberate policy.
Yet the arts of the Spanish chieftain failed to reconcile his countrymen to
the atrocity of his proceedings. It is singular to observe the difference
between the tone assumed by the first chroniclers of the transaction,
while it was yet fresh, and that of those who wrote when the lapse of a
few years had shown the tendency of public opinion. The first boldly
avow the deed as demanded by expediency, if not necessity; while they
deal in no measured terms of reproach with the character of their
unfortunate victim.44 The latter, on the other hand, while they extenuate
the errors of the Inca, and do justice to his good faith, are unreserved in
their condemnation of the Conquerors, on whose conduct, they say,
Heaven set the seal of its own reprobation, by bringing them all to an
untimely and miserable end.45 The sentence of contemporaries has been
fully ratified by that of posterity;46 and the persecution of Atahuallpa is
regarded with justice as having left a stain, never to be effaced, on the
Spanish arms in the New World.