Escape Of The Inca--Return Of Hernando Pizarro-
Rising Of The Peruvians--Siege And Burning Of Cuzco-
Distresses Of The Spaniards--Storming Of The Fortress-
Pizarro's Dismay--The Inca Raises The Siege
1535--1536
While the absence of his rival Almagro relieved Pizarro from all
immediate disquietude from that quarter, his authority was menaced in
another, where he had least expected it. This was from the native
population of the country. Hitherto the Peruvians had shown only a tame
and submissive temper, that inspired their conquerors with too much
contempt to leave room for apprehension. They had passively
acquiesced in the usurpation of the invaders; had seen one monarch
butchered, another placed on the vacant throne, their temples despoiled
of their treasures, their capital and country appropriated and parcelled
out among the Spaniards; but, with the exception of an occasional
skirmish in the mountain passes, not a blow had been struck in defence
of their rights. Yet this was the warlike nation which had spread its
conquests over so large a part of the continent!
In his career, Pizarro, though he scrupled at nothing to effect his object,
had not usually countenanced such superfluous acts of cruelty as had too
often stained the arms of his countrymen in other parts of the continent,
and which, in the course of a few years, had exterminated nearly a whole
population in Hispaniola. He had struck one astounding blow, by the
seizure of Atahuallpa; and he seemed willing to rely on this to strike
terror into the natives. He even affected some respect for the institutions
of the country, and had replaced the monarch he had murdered by
another of the legitimate line. Yet this was but a pretext. The kingdom
had experienced a revolution of the most decisive kind. Its ancient
institutions were subverted. Its heaven-descended aristocracy was
levelled almost to the condition of the peasant. The people became the
serfs of the Conquerors. Their dwellings in the capital---at least, after
the arrival of Alvarado's officers--were seized and appropriated. The
temples were turned into stables; the royal residences into barracks for
the troops. The sanctity of the religious houses was violated. Thousands
of matrons and maidens, who, however erroneous their faith, lived in
chaste seclusion in the conventual establishments, were now turned
inroad, and became the prey of a licentious soldiery.1 A favorite wife of
the young Inca was debauched by the Castilian officers. The Inca,
himself treated with contemptuous indifference, found that he was a poor
dependant, if not a tool, in the hands of his conquerors.2
Yet the Inca Manco was a man of a lofty spirit and a courageous heart;
such a one as might have challenged comparison with the bravest of his
ancestors in the prouder days of the empire. Stung to the quick by the
humiliations to which he was exposed, he repeatedly urged Pizarro to
restore him to the real exercise of power, as well as to the show of it.
But Pizarro evaded a request so incompatible with his own ambitious
schemes, or, indeed, with the policy of Spain, and the young Inca and his
nobles were left to brood over their injuries in secret, and await patiently
the hour of vengeance.
The dissensions among the Spaniards themselves seemed to afford a
favorable opportunity for this. The Peruvian chiefs held many
conferences together on the subject, and the high-priest Villac Umu
urged the necessity of a rising so soon as Almagro had withdrawn his
forces from the city. It would then be comparatively easy, by assaulting
the invaders on their several posts, scattered as they were over the
country, to overpower them by superior numbers, and shake off their
detested yoke before the arrival of fresh reinforcements should rivet it
forever on the necks of his countrymen. A plan for a general rising was
formed, and it was in conformity to it that the priest was selected by the
Inca to bear Almagro company on the march, that he might secure the
cooperation of the natives in the country, and then secretly return--as in
fact he did--to take a part in the insurrection.
To carry their plans into effect, it became necessary that the Inca Manco
should leave the city and present himself among his people. He found no
difficulty in withdrawing from Cuzco, where his presence was scarcely
heeded by the Spaniards, as his nominal power was held in little
deference by the haughty and confident Conquerors. But in the capital
there was a body of Indian allies more jealous of his movements. These
were from the tribe of the Canares, a warlike race of the north, too
recently reduced by the Incas to have much sympathy with them or their
institutions. There were about a thousand of this people in the place,
and, as they had conceived some suspicion of the Inca's purposes, they
kept an eye on his movements, and speedily reported his absence to Juan
Pizarro.
That cavalier, at the head of a small body of horse, instantly marched in
pursuit of the fugitive, whom he was so fortunate as to discover in a
thicket of reeds, in which he sought to conceal himself, at no great
distance from the city. Manco was arrested, brought back a prisoner to
Cuzco, and placed under a strong guard in the fortress. The conspiracy
seemed now at an end; and nothing was left to the unfortunate Peruvians
but to bewail their ruined hopes, and to give utterance to their
disappointment in doleful ballads, which rehearsed the captivity of their
Inca, and the downfall of his royal house.3
While these things were in progress, Hernando Pizarro returned to
Ciudad de los Reyes, bearing with him the royal commission for the
extension of his brother's powers, as well as of those conceded to
Almagro. The envoy also brought the royal patent conferring on
Francisco Pizarro the title of marques de los Atavillos,--a province in
Peru. Thus was the fortunate adventurer placed in the ranks of the proud
aristocracy of Castile, few of whose members could boast--if they had
the courage to boast --their elevation from so humble an origin, as still
fewer could justify it by a show of greater services to the Crown.
The new marquess resolved not to forward the commission, at present, to
the marshal, whom he designed to engage still deeper in the conquest of
Chili, that his attention might be diverted from Cuzco which, however,
his brother assured him, now fell, without doubt, within the newly
extended limits of his own territory. To make more sure of this
important prize, he despatched Hernando to take the government of the
capital into his own hands, as the one of his brothers on whose talents
and practical experience he placed greatest reliance.
Hernando, notwithstanding his arrogant bearing towards his countrymen,
had ever manifested a more than ordinary sympathy with the Indians. He
had been the friend of Atahuallpa; to such a degree, indeed, that it was
said, if he had been in the camp at the time, the fate of that unhappy
monarch would probably have been averted. He now showed a similar
friendly disposition towards his successor, Manco. He caused the
Peruvian prince to be liberated from confinement, and gradually
admitted him into some intimacy with himself. The crafty Indian availed
himself of his freedom to mature his plans for the rising, but with so
much caution, that no suspicion of them crossed the mind of Hernando.
Secrecy and silence are characteristic of the American, almost as
invariably as the peculiar color of his skin. Manco disclosed to his
conqueror the existence of several heaps of treasure, and the places
where they had been secreted; and, when he had thus won his
confidence, he stimulated his cupidity still further by an account of a
statue of pure gold of his father Huayna Capac, which the wily Peruvian
requested leave to bring from a secret cave in which it was deposited,
among the neighboring Andes. Hernando, blinded by his avarice,
consented to the Inca's departure.
He sent with him two Spanish soldiers, less as a guard than to aid him in
the object of his expedition. A week elapsed, and yet he did not return,
nor were there any tidings to be gathered of him. Hernando now saw his
error, especially as his own suspicions were confirmed by the
unfavorable reports of his Indian allies. Without further delay, he
despatched his brother Juan, at the head of sixty horse, in quest of the
Peruvian prince, with orders to bring him back once more a prisoner to
his capital.
That cavalier, with his well-armed troops, soon traversed the environs of
Cuzco without discovering any vestige of the fugitive. The country was
remarkably silent and deserted, until, as he approached the mountain
range that hems in the valley of Yucay, about six leagues from the city,
he was met by the two Spaniards who had accompanied Manco. They
informed Pizarro that it was only at the point of the sword he could
recover the Inca, for the country was all in arms, and the Peruvian chief
at its head was preparing to march on the capital. Yet he had offered no
violence to their persons, but had allowed them to return in safety.
The Spanish captain found this story fully confirmed when he arrived at
the river Yucay, on the opposite bank of which were drawn up the Indian
battalions to the number of many thousand men, who, with their young
monarch at their head, prepared to dispute his passage. It seemed that
they could not feel their position sufficiently strong, without placing a
river, as usual, between them and their enemy. The Spaniards were not
checked by this obstacle. The stream, though deep, was narrow; and
plunging in, they swam their horses boldly across, amidst a tempest of
stones and arrows that rattled thick as hail on their harness, finding
occasionally some crevice or vulnerable point,--although the wounds
thus received only goaded them to more desperate efforts. The
barbarians fell back as the cavaliers made good their landing; but,
without allowing the latter time to form, they returned with a spirit which
they had hitherto seldom displayed, and enveloped them on all sides with
their greatly superior numbers. The fight now raged fiercely. Many of
the Indians were armed with lances headed with copper tempered almost
to the hardness of steel, and with huge maces and battle-axes of the same
metal. Their defensive armour, also, was in many respects excellent,
consisting of stout doublets of quilted cotton. shields covered with skins,
and casques richly ornamented with gold and jewels, or sometimes made
like those of the Mexicans, in the fantastic shape of the heads of wild
animals, garnished with rows of teeth that grinned horribly above the
visage of the warrior.4 The whole army wore an aspect of martial
ferocity, under the control of much higher military discipline than the
Spaniards had before seen in the country.
The little band of cavaliers, shaken by the fury of the Indian assault, were
thrown at first into some disorder, but at length, cheering on one another
with the old war-cry of "St. Jago," they formed in solid column, and
charged boldly into the thick of the enemy. The latter, incapable of
withstanding the shock, gave way, or were trampled down under the feet
of the horses, or pierced by the lances of the riders. Yet their flight was
conducted with some order; and they turned at intervals, to let off a
volley of arrows, or to deal furious blows with their pole-axes and
warclubs. They fought as if conscious that they were under the eye of
their Inca.
It was evening before they had entirely quitted the level ground, and
withdrawn into the fastnesses of the lofty range of hills which belt round
the beautiful valley of Yucay. Juan Pizarro and his little troop encamped
on the level at the base of the mountains. He had gained a victory, as
usual, over immense odds; but he had never seen a field so well disputed,
and his victory had cost him the lives of several men and horses, while
many more had been wounded, and were nearly disabled by the fatigues
of the day. But he trusted the severe lesson he had inflicted on the
enemy, whose slaughter was great, would crush the spirit of resistance.
He was deceived.
The following morning, great was his dismay to see the passes of the
mountains filled up with dark lines of warriors, stretching as far as the
eye could penetrate into the depths of the sierra, while dense masses of
the enemy were gathered like thunder-clouds along the slopes and
sumrafts, as if ready to pour down in fury on the assailants. The ground,
altogether unfavorable to the manoeuvres of cavalry, gave every
advantage to the Peruvians, who rolled down huge rocks from their
elevated position, and sent off incessant showers of missiles on the heads
of the Spaniards. Juan Pizarro did not care to entangle himself further in
the perilous defile; and, though he repeatedly charged the enemy, and
drove them back with considerable loss, the second night found him with
men and horses wearied and wounded, and as little advanced in the
object of his expedition as on the preceding evening. From this
embarrassing position, after a day or two more spent in unprofitable
hostilities, he was surprised by a summons from his brother to return
with all expedition to Cuzco, which was now besieged by the enemy!
Without delay, he began his retreat, recrossed the valley, the recent scene
of slaughter, swam the river Yucay, and, by a rapid countermarch,
closely followed by the victorious enemy, who celebrated their success
with songs or rather yells of triumph, he arrived before nightfall in sight
of the capital.
But very different was the sight which there met his eye from what he
had beheld on leaving it a few days before. The extensive environs, as
far as the eye could reach, were occupied by a mighty host, which an
indefinite computation swelled to the number of two hundred thousand
warriors.5 The dusky lines of the Indian battalions stretched out to the
very verge of the mountains; while, all around, the eye saw only the
crests and waving banners of chieftains, mingled with rich panoplies of
feather-work, which reminded some few who had served under Cortes of
the military costume of the Aztecs. Above all rose a forest of long lances
and battle-axes edged with copper, which, tossed to and fro in wild
confusion, glittered in the rays of the setting sun, like light playing on the
surface of a dark and troubled ocean. It was the first time that the
Spaniards had beheld an Indian army in all its terrors; such an army as
the Incas led to battle, when the banner of the Sun was borne triumphant
over the land.
Yet the bold hearts of the cavaliers, if for a moment dismayed by the
sight, soon gathered courage as they closed up their files, and prepared to
open a way for themselves through the beleaguering host. But the enemy
seemed to shun the encounter; and, falling back at their approach, left a
free entrance into the capital. The Peruvians were, probably, not willing
to draw as many victims as they could into the toils, conscious that, the
greater the number, the sooner they would become sensible to the
approaches of famine.6
Hernando Pizarro greeted his brother with no little satisfaction; for he
brought an important addition to his force, which now, when all were
united, did not exceed two hundred, horse and foot,7 besides a thousand
Indian auxiliaries; an insignificant number, in comparison with the
countless multitudes that were swarming at the gates. That night was
passed by the Spaniards with feelings of the deepest anxiety, as they
looked forward with natural apprehension to the morrow. It was early in
February, 1536, when the siege of Cuzco commenced; a siege
memorable as calling out the most heroic displays of Indian and
European valor, and bringing the two races in deadlier conflict with each
other than had yet occurred in the conquest of Peru.
The numbers of the enemy seemed no less formidable during the night
than by the light of day; far and wide their watch-fires were to be seen
gleaming over valley and hill-top, as thickly scattered, says an
eyewitness, as "the stars of heaven in a cloudless summer night." 8
Before these fires had become pale in the light of the morning, the
Spaniards were roused by the hideous clamor of conch, trumpet, and
atabal, mingled with the fierce war-cries of the barbarians, as they let off
volleys of missiles of every description, most of which fell harmless
within the city. But others did more serious execution. These were
burning arrows, and redhot stones wrapped in cotton that had been
steeped in some bituminous substance, which, scattered long trains of
light through the air, fell on the roofs of the buildings, and speedily set
them on fire.9 These roofs, even of the better sort of edifices, were
uniformly of thatch, and were ignited as easily as tinder. In a moment
the flames burst forth from the most opposite quarters of the city. They
quickly communicated to the wood-work in the interior of the buildings,
and broad sheets of flame mingled with smoke rose up towards the
heavens, throwing a fearful glare over every object. The rarefied
atmosphere heightened the previous impetuosity of the wind, which,
fanning the rising flames, they rapidly spread from dwelling to dwelling,
till the whole fiery mass, swayed to and fro by the tempest, surged and
roared with the fury of a volcano. The heat became intense, and clouds
of smoke, gathering like a dark pall over the city, produced a sense of
suffocation and almost blindness in those quarters where it was driven by
the winds.10
The Spaniards were encamped in the great square, partly under awnings,
and partly in the hall of the Inca Viracocha, on the ground since covered
by the cathedral. Three times in the course of that dreadful day, the roof
of the building was on fire; but, although no efforts were made to
extinguish it, the flames went out without doing much injury. This
miracle was ascribed to the Blessed Virgin, who was distinctly seen by
several of the Christian combatants, hovering over the spot on which was
to be raised the temple dedicated to her worship.11
Fortunately, the open space around Hernando's little company separated
them from the immediate scene of conflagration. It afforded a means of
preservation similar to that employed by the American hunter, who
endeavors to surround himself with a belt of wasted land, when
overtaken by a conflagration in the prairies. All day the fire continued to
rage, and at night the effect was even more appalling; for by the lurid
flames the unfortunate Spaniards could read the consternation depicted
in each others' ghastly countenances, while in the suburbs, along the
slopes of the surrounding hills, might be seen the throng of besiegers,
gazing with fiendish exultation on the work of destruction. High above
the town to the north, rose the gray fortress, which now showed ruddy in
the glare, looking grimly down on the ruins of the fair city which it was
no longer able to protect; and in the distance were to be discerned the
shadowy forms of the Andes, soaring up in solitary grandeur into the
regions of eternal silence, far beyond the wild tumult that raged so
fearfully at their base.
Such was the extent of the city, that it was several days before the fury of
the fire was spent. Tower and temple, hut, palace, and hall, went down
before it. Fortunately, among the buildings that escaped were the
magnificent House of the Sun and the neighboring Convent of the
Virgins. Their insulated position afforded the means, of which the
Indians from motives of piety were willing to avail themselves, for their
preservation.12 Full one half of the capital, so long the chosen seat of
Western civilization, the pride of the Incas, and the bright abode of their
tutelar deity, was laid in ashes by the hands of his own children. It was
some consolation for them to reflect, that it burned over the heads of its
conquerors,-their trophy and their tomb!
During the long period of the conflagration, the Spaniards made no
attempt to extinguish the flames. Such an attempt would have availed
nothing. Yet they did not tamely submit to the assaults of the enemy,
and they sallied forth from time to time to repel them. But the fallen
timbers and scattered rubbish of the houses presented serious
impediments to the movements of horse; and, when these were partially
cleared away by the efforts of the infantry and the Indian allies, the
Peruvians planted stakes and threw barricades across the path, which
proved equally embarrassing.13 To remove them was a work of time
and no little danger, as the pioneers were exposed to the whole brunt of
the enemy's archery, and the aim of the Peruvian was sure. When at
length the obstacles were cleared away, and a free course was opened to
the cavalry, they rushed with irresistible impetuosity on their foes, who,
falling back in confusion, were cut to pieces by the riders, or pierced
through with their lances. The slaughter on these occasions was great;
but the Indians, nothing disheartened, usually returned with renewed
courage to the attack, and, while fresh reinforcements met the Spaniards
in front, others, lying in ambush among the ruins, threw the troops into
disorder by assailing them on the flanks. The Peruvians were expert
both with bow and sling; and these encounters, notwithstanding the
superiority of their arms, cost the Spaniards more lives than in their
crippled condition they could afford to spare,--a loss poorly compensated
by that of tenfold the number of the enemy. One weapon, peculiar to
South American warfare, was used with some effect by the Peruvians.
This was the lasso, a long rope with a noose at the end, which they
adroitly threw over the rider, or entangled with it the legs of his horse, so
as to bring them both to the ground. More than one Spaniard fell into the
hands of the enemy by this expedient.14
Thus harassed, sleeping on their arms, with their horses picketed by their
side, ready for action at any and every hour, the Spaniards had no rest by
night or by day. To add to their troubles, the fortress which overlooked
the city, and completely commanded the great square in which they were
quartered, had been so feebly garrisoned in their false sense of security,
that, on the approach of the Peruvians, it had been abandoned without a
blow in its defence. It was now occupied by a strong body of the enemy,
who, from his elevated position, sent down showers of missiles, from
time to time, which added greatly to the annoyance of the besieged.
Bitterly did their captain now repent the improvident security which had
led him to neglect a post so important.
Their distresses were still further aggravated by the rumors, which
continually reached their ears, of the state of the country. The rising, it
was said, was general throughout the land; the Spaniards living on their
insulated plantations had all been massacred; Lima and Truxillo and the
principal cities were besieged, and must soon fall into the enemy's hands;
the Peruvians were in possession of the passes, and all communications
were cut off, so that no relief was to be expected from their countrymen
on the coast. Such were the dismal stories, (which, however
exaggerated, had too much foundation in fact,) that now found their way
into the city from the camp of the besiegers. And to give greater credit
to the rumors, eight or ten human heads were rolled into the plaza, in
whose blood-stained visages the Spaniards recognized with horror the
lineaments of their companions, who they knew had been dwelling in
solitude on their estates! 15
Overcome by these horrors, many were for abandoning the place at once,
as no longer tenable, and for opening a passage for themselves to the
coast with their own good swords. There was a daring in the enterprise
which had a charm for the adventurous spirit of the Castilian. Better,
they said, to perish in a manly struggle for life, than to die thus
ignominiously, pent up like foxes in their holes, to be suffocated by the
hunter!
But the Pizarros, De Rojas, and some other of the principal cavaliers,
refused to acquiesce in a measure which, they said, must cover them with
dishonor.16 Cuzco had been the great prize for which they had
contended; it was the ancient seat of empire, and, though now in ashes,
would again rise from its ruins as glorious as before. All eyes would be
turned on them, as its defenders, and their failure, by giving confidence
to the enemy, might decide the fate of their countrymen throughout the
land. They were placed in that post as the post of honor, and better
would it be to die there than to desert it.
There seemed, indeed, no alternative; for every avenue to escape was cut
off by an enemy who had perfect knowledge of the country, and
possession of all its passes. But this state of things could not last long.
The Indian could not, in the long run, contend with the white man. The
spirit of insurrection would die out of itself. Their great army would
melt away, unaccustomed as the natives were to the privations incident to
a protracted campaign. Reinforcements would be daily coming in from
the colonies; and, if the Castilians would be but true to themselves for a
season, they would be relieved by their own countrymen, who would
never suffer them to die like outcasts among the mountains.
The cheering words and courageous bearing of the cavaliers went to the
hearts of their followers; for the soul of the Spaniard readily responded
to the call of honor, if not of humanity. All now agreed to stand by their
leader to the last. But, if they would remain longer in their present
position, it was absolutely necessary to dislodge the enemy from the
fortress; and, before venturing on this dangerous service, Hernando
Pizarro resolved to strike such a blow as should intimidate the besiegers
from further attempt to molest his present quarters.
He communicated his plan of attack to his officers; and, forming his little
troop into three divisions, he placed them under command of his brother
Gonzalo, of Gabriel de Rojas, an officer in whom he reposed great
confidence, and Hernan Ponce de Leon. The Indian pioneers were sent
forward to clear away the rubbish, and the several divisions moved
simultaneously up the principal avenues towards the camp of the
besiegers. Such stragglers as they met in their way were easily cut to
pieces, and the three bodies, bursting impetuously on the disordered lines
of the Peruvians, took them completely by surprise. For some moments
there was little resistance, and the slaughter was terrible. But the Indians
gradually rallied, and, coming into something like order, returned to the
fight with the courage of men who had long been familiar with danger.
They fought hand to hand with their copper-headed war-clubs and pole-
axes, while a storm of darts, stones, and arrows rained on the well-
defended bodies of the Christians.
The barbarians showed more discipline than was to have been expected;
for which, it is said, they were indebted to some Spanish prisoners, from
several of whom, the Inca, having generously spared their lives, took
occasional lessons in the art of war. The Peruvians had, also, learned to
manage with some degree of skill the weapons of their conquerors; and
they were seen armed with bucklers, helmets, and swords of European
workmanship, and even, in a few instances, mounted on the horses which
they had taken from the white men.17 The young Inca, in particular,
accoutred in the European fashion, rode a war-horse which he managed
with considerable address, and, with a long lance in his hand led on his
followers to the attack.--This readiness to adopt the superior arms and
tactics of the Conquerors intimates a higher civilization than that which
belonged to the Aztec, who, in his long collision with the Spaniards, was
never so far divested of his terrors for the horse as to venture to mount
him.
But a few days or weeks of training were not enough to give familiarity
with weapons, still less with tactics, so unlike those to which the
Peruvians had been hitherto accustomed. The fight, on the present
occasion, though hotly contested, was not of long duration. After a
gallant struggle in which the natives threw themselves fearlessly on the
horse men, endeavoring to tear them from their saddles, they were
obliged to give way before the repeated shock of their chargers. Many
were trampled under foot, others cut down by the Spanish broadswords,
while the arquebusiers, supporting the cavalry, kept up a running fire that
did terrible execution on the flanks and rear of the fugitives. At length,
sated with slaughter, and trusting that the chastisement he had inflicted
on the enemy would secure him from further annoyance for the present,
the Castilian general drew back his forces to their quarters in the
capital.18
His next step was the recovery of the citadel. It was an enterprise of
danger. The fortress, which overlooked the northern section of the city,
stood high on a rocky eminence, so steep as to be inaccessible on this
quarter, where it was defended only by a single wall. Towards the open
country, it was more easy of approach; but there it was protected by two
semicircular walls, each about twelve hundred feet in length, and of great
thickness. They were built of massive stones, or rather rocks, put
together without cement, so as to form a kind of rustic-work. The level
of the ground between these lines of defence was raised up so as to
enable the garrison to discharge its arrows at the assailants, while their
own persons were protected by the parapet. Within the interior wall was
the fortress, consisting of three strong towers, one of great height, which,
with a smaller one, was now held by the enemy, under the command of
an Inca noble, a warrior of well-tried valor, prepared to defend it to the
last extremity.
The perilous enterprise was intrusted by Hernando Pizarro to his brother
Juan, a cavalier in whose bosom burned the adventurous spirit of a
knight-errant of romance. As the fortress was to be approached through
the mountain passes, it became necessary to divert the enemy's attention
to another quarter. A little while before sunset Juan Pizarro left the city
with a picked corps of horsemen, and took a direction opposite to that of
the fortress, that the besieging army might suppose the object was a
foraging expedition. But secretly countermarching in the night, he
fortunately found the passes unprotected, and arrived before the outer
wall of the fortress, without giving the alarm to the garrison.19
The entrance was through a narrow opening in the centre of the rampart;
but this was now closed up with heavy stones, that seemed to form one
solid work with the rest of the masonry. It was an affair of time to
dislodge these huge masses, in such a manner as not to rouse the
garrison. The Indian nations, who rarely attacked in the night, were not
sufficiently acquainted with the art of war even to provide against
surprise by posting sentinels. When the task was accomplished, Juan
Pizarro and his gallant troop rode through the gateway, and advanced
towards the second parapet.
But their movements had not been conducted so secretly as to escape
notice, and they now found the interior court swarming with warriors,
who- as the Spaniards drew near, let off clouds of missiles that
compelled them to come to a halt. Juan Pizarro, aware that no time was
to be lost, ordered one half of his corps to dismount, and, putting himself
at their head, prepared to make a breach as before in the fortifications.
He had been wounded some days previously in the jaw, so that, finding
his helmet caused him pain, he rashly dispensed with it, and trusted for
protection to his buckler.20 Leading on his men, he encouraged them in
the work of demolition, in the face of such a storm of stones, javelins,
and arrows, as might have made the stoutest heart shrink from
encountering it. The good mail of the Spaniards did not always protect
them; but others took the place of such as fell, until a-breach was made,
and the cavalry, pouring in, rode down all who opposed them.
The parapet was now abandoned, and the enemy, hurrying with
disorderly flight across the inclosure, took refuge on a kind of platform
or terrace, commanded by the principal tower. Here rallying, they shot
off fresh volleys of missiles against the Spaniards, while the garrison in
the fortress hurled down fragments of rock and timber on their heads.
Juan Pizarro, still among the foremost, sprang forward on the terrace,
cheering on his men by his voice and example; but at this moment he
was struck by a large stone on the head, not then protected by his
buckler, and was stretched on the ground. The dauntless chief still
continued to animate his followers by his voice, till the terrace was
carried, and its miserable defenders were put to the sword. His
sufferings were then too much for him, and he was removed to the town
below, where, notwithstanding every exertion to save him, he survived
the injury but a fortnight, and died in great agony.21--To say that he was
a Pizarro is enough to attest his claim to valor. But it is his praise, that
his valor was tempered by courtesy. His own nature appeared mild by
contrast with the haughty temper of his brothers, and his manners made
him a favorite of the army. He had served in the conquest of Peru from
the first, and no name on the roll of its conquerors is less tarnished by the
reproach of cruelty, or stands higher in all the attributes of a true and
valiant knight.22
Though deeply sensible to his brother's disaster, Hernando Pizarro saw
that no time was to be lost in profiting by the advantages already gained.
Committing the charge of the town to Gonzalo, he put himself at the
head of the assailants, and laid vigorous siege to the fortresses.
One surrendered after a short resistance. The other and more formidable
of the two still held out under the brave Inca noble who commanded it.
He was a man of an athletic frame, and might be seen striding along the
battlements, armed with a Spanish buckler and cuirass, and in his hand
wielding a formidable mace, garnished with points or knobs of copper.
With this terrible weapon he struck down all who attempted to force a
passage into the fortress. Some of his own followers who proposed a
surrender he is said to have slain with his own hand. Hernando prepared
to carry the place by escalade. Ladders were planted against the walls,
but no sooner did a Spaniard gain the topmost round, than he was hurled
to the ground by the strong arm of the Indian warrior. His activity was
equal to his strength; and he seemed to be at every point the moment that
his presence was needed.
The Spanish commander was filled with admiration at this display of
valor; for he could admire valor even in an enemy. He gave orders that
the chief should not be injured, but be taken alive, if possible.23 This
was not easy. At length, numerous ladders having been planted against
the tower, the Spaniards scaled it on several quarters at the same time,
and, leaping into the place, overpowered the few combatants who still
made a show of resistance. But the Inca chieftain was not to be taken;
and, finding further resistance ineffectual, he sprang to the edge of the
battlements, and, casting away his war-club, wrapped his mantle around
him and threw himself headlong from the summit.24 He died like an
ancient Roman. He had struck his last stroke for the freedom of his
country, and he scorned to survive her dishonor.--The Castilian
commander left a small force in garrison to secure his conquest, and
returned in triumph to his quarters.
Week after week rolled away, and no relief came to the beleaguered
Spaniards. They had long since begun to feel the approaches of famine.
Fortunately, they were provided with water from the streams which
flowed through the city. But, though they had well husbanded their
resources, their provisions were exhausted, and they had for some time
depended on such scanty supplies of grain as they could gather from the
ruined magazines and dwellings, mostly consumed by the fire, or from
the produce of some successful foray.25 This latter resource was
attended with no little difficulty; for every expedition led to a fierce
encounter with the enemy, which usually cost the lives of several
Spaniards, and inflicted a much heavier injury on the Indian allies. Yet it
was at least one good result of such loss, that it left fewer to provide for.
But the whole number of the besieged was so small, that any loss greatly
increased the difficulties of defence by the remainder.
As months passed away without bringing any tidings of their
countrymen, their minds were haunted with still gloomier apprehensions
as to their fate. They well knew that the governor would make every
effort to rescue them from their desperate condition. That he had not
succeeded in this made it probable, that his own situation was no better
than theirs, or, perhaps, he and his followers had already fallen victims to
the fury of the insurgents. It was a dismal thought, that they alone were
left in the land, far from all human succour, to perish miserably by the
hands of the barbarians among the mountains.
Yet the actual state of things, though gloomy in the extreme, was not
quite so desperate as their imaginations had painted it. The insurrection,
it is true, had been general throughout the country, at least that portion of
it occupied by the Spaniards. It had been so well concerted, that it broke
out almost simultaneously, and the Conquerors, who were living in
careless security on their estates, had been massacred to the number of
several hundreds. An Indian force had sat down before Xauxa, and a
considerable army had occupied the valley of Rimac and laid siege to
Lima. But the country around that capital was of an open, level
character, very favorable to the action of cavalry. Pizarro no sooner saw
himself menaced by the hostile array, than he sent such a force against
the Peruvians as speedily put them to flight; and, following up his
advantage, he inflicted on them such a severe chastisement, that,
although they still continued to hover in the distance and cut off his
communications with the interior, they did not care to trust themselves
on the other side of the Rimac.
The accounts that the Spanish commander now received of the state of
the country filled him with the most serious alarm. He was particularly
solicitous for the fate of the garrison at Cuzco, and he made repeated
efforts to relieve that capital. Four several detachments, amounting to
more than four hundred men in all, half of them cavalry, were sent by
him at different times, under some of his bravest officers. But none of
them reached their place of destination. The wily natives permitted them
to march into the interior of the country, until they were fairly entangled
in the passes of the Cordilleras. They then enveloped them with greatly
superior numbers, and, occupying the heights, showered down their fatal
missiles on the heads of the Spaniards, or crushed them under the weight
of fragments of rock which they rolled on them from the mountains. In
some instances, the whole detachment was cut off to a man. In others, a
few stragglers only survived to return and tell the bloody tale to their
countrymen at Lima.26
Pizarro was now filled with consternation. He had the most dismal
forebodings of the fate of the Spaniards dispersed throughout the
country, and even doubted the possibility of maintaining his own
foothold in it without assistance from abroad. He despatched a vessel to
the neighboring colony at Truxillo, urging them to abandon the place,
with all their effects, and to repair to him at Lima. The measure was,
fortunately, not adopted. Many of his men were for availing themselves
of the vessels which rode at anchor in the port to make their escape from
the country at once, and take refuge in Panama. Pizarro would not
hearken to so dastardly a counsel, which involved the desertion of the
brave men in the interior who still looked to him for protection. He cut
off the hopes of these timid spirits by despatching all the vessels then in
port on a very different mission. He sent letters by them to the governors
of Panama, Nicaragua, Guatemala, and Mexico, representing the gloomy
state of his affairs, and invoking their aid. His epistle to Alvarado, then
established at Guatemala, is preserved. He conjures him by every
sentiment of honor and patriotism to come to his assistance, and this
before it was too late. Without assistance, the Spaniards could no longer
maintain their footing in Peru, and that great empire would be lost to the
Castilian Crown. He finally engages to share with him such conquests as
they may make with their united arms.27--Such concessions, to the very
man whose absence from the country, but a few months before, Pizarro
would have been willing to secure at almost any price, are sufficient
evidence of the extremity of his distress. The succours thus earnestly
solicited arrived in time, not to quell the Indian insurrection, but to aid
him in a struggle quite as formidable with his own countrymen.
It was now August. More than five months had elapsed since the
commencement of the siege of Cuzco, yet the Peruvian legions still lay
encamped around the city. The siege had been protracted much beyond
what was usual in Indian warfare, and showed the resolution of the
natives to exterminate the white men. But the Peruvians themselves had
for some time been straitened by the want of provisions. It was no easy
matter to feed so numerous a host; and the obvious resource of the
magazines of grain, so providently prepared by the Incas, did them but
little service, since their contents had been most prodigally used, and
even dissipated, by the Spaniards, on their first occupation of the
country.28 The season for planting had now arrived, and the Inca well
knew, that, if his followers were to neglect it, they would be visited by a
scourge even more formidable than their invaders. Disbanding the
greater part of his forces, therefore, he ordered them to withdraw to their
homes, and, after the labors of the field were over, to return and resume
the blockade of the capital. The Inca reserved a considerable force to
attend on his own person, with which he retired to Tambo, a strongly
fortified place south of the valley of Yucay, the favorite residence of his
ancestors. He also posted a large body as a corps of observation in the
environs of Cuzco, to watch the movements of the enemy, and to
intercept supplies.
The Spaniards beheld with joy the mighty host, which had so long
encompassed the city, now melting away. They were not slow in
profiting by the circumstance, and Hernando Pizarro took advantage of
the temporary absence to send out foraging parties to scour the country,
and bring back supplies to his famishing soldiers. In this he was so
successful that on one occasion no less than two thousand head of cattle-
-the Peruvian sheep--were swept away from the Indian plantations and
brought safely to Cuzco.29 This placed the army above all apprehensions
on the score of want for the present.
Yet these forays were made at the point of the lance, and many a
desperate contest ensued, in which the best blood of the Spanish chivalry
was shed. The contests, indeed, were not confined to large bodies of
troops, but skirmishes took place between smaller parties, which
sometimes took the form of personal combats. Nor were the parties so
unequally matched as might have been supposed in these single
rencontres; and the Peruvian warrior, with his sling, his bow, and his
lasso, proved no contemptible antagonist for the mailed horseman, whom
he sometimes even ventured to encounter, hand to hand, with his
formidable battle-axe. The ground around Cuzco became a battle-field,
like the vega of Granada, in which Christian and Pagan displayed the
characteristics of their peculiar warfare; and many a deed of heroism was
performed, which wanted only the song of the minstrel to shed around it
a glory like that which rested on the last days of the Moslem of Spain.30
But Hernando Pizarro was not content to act wholly on the defensive;
and he meditated a bold stroke, by which at once to put an end to the
war. This was the capture of the Inca Manco, whom he hoped to surprise
in his quarters at Tambo.
For this service he selected about eighty of his best-mounted cavalry,
with a small body of foot; and, making a large detour through the less
frequented mountain defiles, he arrived before Tambo without alarm to
the enemy. He found the place more strongly fortified than he had
imagined. The palace, or rather fortress, of the Incas stood on a lofty
eminence, the steep sides of which, on the quarter where the Spaniards
approached, were cut into terraces, defended by strong walls of stone and
sunburnt brick.31 The place was impregnable on this side. On the
opposite, it looked towards the Yucay, and the ground descended by a
gradual declivity towards the plain through which rolled its deep but
narrow current.32 This was the quarter on which to make the assault.
Crossing the stream without much difficulty, the Spanish commander
advanced up the smooth glacis with as little noise as possible. The
morning light had hardly broken on the mountains; and Pizarro, as he
drew near the outer defences, which, as in the fortress of Cuzco,
consisted of a stone parapet of great strength drawn round the inclosure,
moved quickly forward, confident that the garrison were still buried in
sleep. But thousands of eyes were upon him; and as the Spaniards came
within bowshot, a multitude of dark forms suddenly rose above the
rampart, while the Inca, with his lance in hand, was seen on horseback in
the inclosure, directing the operations of his troops.33 At the same
moment the air was darkened with innumerable missiles, stones, javelins,
and arrows, which fell like a hurricane on the troops, and the mountains
rang to the wild war-whoop of the enemy. The Spaniards, taken by
surprise, and many of them sorely wounded, were staggered; and, though
they quickly rallied, and made two attempts to renew the assault, they
were at length obliged to fall back, unable to endure the violence of the
storm. To add to their confusion, the lower level in their rear was
flooded by the waters, which the natives, by opening the sluices, had
diverted from the bed of the river, so that their position was no longer
tenable.34 A council of war was then held, and it was decided to
abandon the attack as desperate, and to retreat in as good order as
possible.
The day had been consumed in these ineffectual operations; and
Hernando, under cover of the friendly darkness, sent forward his infantry
and baggage, taking command of the centre himself, and trusting the rear
to his brother Gonzalo. The river was happily recrossed without
accident, although the enemy, now confident in their strength, rushed out
of their defences, and followed up the retreating Spaniards, whom they
annoyed with repeated discharges of arrows. More than once they
pressed so closely on the fugitives, that Gonzalo and his chivalry were
compelled to turn and make one of those desperate charges that
effectually punished their audacity, and stayed the tide of pursuit. Yet
the victorious foe still hung on the rear of the discomfited cavaliers, till
they had emerged from the mountain passes, and come within sight of
the blackened walls of the capital. It was the last triumph of the Inca.35
Among the manuscripts for which I am indebted to the liberality of that
illustrious Spanish scholar, the lamented Navarrete, the most remarkable,
in connection with this history, is the work of Pedro Pizarro; Relaciones
del Descubrimiento y Conquista de los Reynos del Peru. But a single
copy of this important document appears to have been preserved, the
existence of which was but little known till it came into the hands of
Senior de Navarrete; though it did not escape the indefatigable
researches of Herrera, as is evident from the mention of several
incidents, some of them having personal relation to Pedro Pizarro
himself, which the historian of the Indies could have derived through no
other channel. The manuscript has lately been given to the public as part
of the inestimable collection of historical documents now in process of
publication at Madrid, under auspices which, we may trust, will insure its
success. As the printed work did not reach me till my present labors
were far advanced, I have preferred to rely on the manuscript copy for
the brief remainder of my narrative, as I had been compelled to do for
the previous portion of it.
Nothing, that I am aware of, is known respecting the author, but what is
to be gleaned from incidental notices of himself in his own history. He
was born at Toledo in Estremadura, the fruitful province of adventurers
to the New World, whence the family of Francis Pizarro, to which Pedro
was allied, also emigrated. When that chief came over to undertake the
conquest of Peru, after receiving his commission from the emperor in
1529, Pedro Pizarro, then only fifteen years of age, accompanied him in
quality of page. For three years he remained attached to the house hold
of his commander, and afterwards continued to follow his banner as a
soldier of fortune. He was present at most of the memorable events of
the Conquest, and seems to have possessed in a great degree the
confidence of his leader, who employed him on some difficult missions,
in which he displayed coolness and gallantry. It is true, we must take the
author's own word for all this. But he tells his exploits with an air of
honesty, and without any extraordinary effort to set them off in undue
relief. He speaks of himself in the third person, and, as his manuscript
was not intended solely for posterity, he would hardly have ventured
on great misrepresentation, where fraud could so easily have been
exposed.
After the Conquest, our author still remained attached to the fortunes of
his commander, and stood by him through all the troubles which ensued;
and on the assassination of that chief, he withdrew to Arequipa, to enjoy
in quiet the repartimiento of lands and Indians, which had been bestowed
on him as the recompense of his services. He was there on the breaking
out of the great rebellion under Gonzalo Pizarro. But he was true to his
allegiance, and chose rather, as he tells us, to be false to his name and his
lineage than to his loyalty. Gonzalo, in retaliation, seized his estates, and
would have proceeded to still further extremities against him, when
Pedro Pizarro had fallen into his hands at Lima, but for the interposition
of his lieutenant, the famous Francisco de Carbajal, to whom the
chronicler had once the good fortune to render an important service.
This, Carbajal requited by sparing his life on two occasions,--but on the
second coolly remarked, "No man has a right to a brace of lives; and if
you fall into my hands a third time, God only can grant you another."
Happily, Pizarro did not find occasion to put this menace to the test.
After the pacification of the country, he again retired to Arequipa; but,
from the querulous tone of his remarks, it would seem he was not fully
reinstated in the possessions he had sacrificed by his loyal devotion to
government. The last we hear of him is in 1571, the date which he
assigns as that of the completion of his history.
Pedro Pizarro's narrative covers the whole ground of the Conquest, from
the date of the first expedition that sallied out from Panama, to the
troubles that ensued on the departure of President Gasca. The first part
of the work was gathered from the testimony of others, and, of course,
cannot claim the distinction of rising to the highest class of evidence.
But all that follows the return of Francis Pizarro from Castile, all, in
short, which constitutes the conquest of the country, may be said to be
reported on his own observation, as an eyewitness and an actor. This
gives to his narrative a value to which it could have no pretensions on the
score of its literary execution. Pizarro was a soldier, with as little
education, probably, as usually falls to those who have been trained from
youth in this rough school,--the most unpropitious in the world to both
mental and moral progress. He had the good sense, moreover, not to
aspire to an excellence which he could not reach. There is no ambition
of fine writing in his chronicle; there are none of those affectations of
ornament which only make more glaring the beggarly condition of him
who assumes them. His object was simply to tell the story of the
Conquest, as he had seen it. He was to deal with facts, not with words,
which he wisely left to those who came into the field after the laborers
had quitted it, to garner up what they could at second hand.
Pizarro's situation may be thought to have necessarily exposed him to
party influences, and thus given an undue bias to his narrative. It is not
difficult, indeed, to determine under whose banner he had enlisted. He
writes like a partisan, and yet like an honest one, who is no further
warped from a correct judgment of passing affairs than must necessarily
come from preconceived opinions. There is no management to work a
conviction in his reader on this side or the other, still less any obvious
perversion of fact. He evidently believes what he says, and this is the
great point to be desired. We can make allowance for the natural
influences of his position. Were he more impartial than this, the critic of
the present day, by making allowance for a greater amount of prejudice
and partiality, might only be led into error.
Pizarro is not only independent, but occasionally caustic in his
condemnation of those under whom he acted. This is particularly the
case where their measures bear too unfavorably on his own interests, or
those of the army. As to the unfortunate natives, he no more regards
their sufferings than the Jews of old did those of the Philistines, whom
they considered as delivered up to their swords, and whose lands they
regarded as their lawful heritage. There is no mercy shown by the hard
Conqueror in his treatment of the infidel.
Pizarro was the representative of the age in which he lived. Yet it is too
much to cast such obloquy on the age. He represented more truly the
spirit of the fierce warriors who overturned the dynasty of the Incas. He
was not merely a crusader, fighting to extend the empire of the Cross
over the darkened heathen. Gold was his great object; the estimate by
which he judged of the value of the Conquest; the recompense that he
asked for a life of toil and danger. It was with these golden visions, far
more than with visions of glory, above all, of celestial glory, that the
Peruvian adventurer fed his gross and worldly imagination. Pizarro did
not rise above his caste. Neither did he rise above it in a mental view,
any more than in a moral. His history displays no great penetration, or
vigor and comprehension of thought. It is the work of a soldier, telling
simply his tale of blood. Its value is, that it is told by him who acted it.
And this, to the modern compiler, renders it of higher worth than far
abler productions at second hand. It is the rude ore, which, submitted to
the regular process of purification and refinement, may receive the
current stamp that fits it for general circulation.
Another authority, to whom I have occasionally referred, and whose
writings still slumber in manuscript, is the Licentiate Fernando
Montesinos. He is, in every respect, the opposite of the military
chronicler who has just come under our notice. He flourished about a
century after the Conquest. Of course, the value of his writings as an
authority for historical facts must depend on his superior opportunities
for consulting original documents. For this his advantages were great.
He was twice sent in an official capacity to Peru, which required him to
visit the different parts of the country. These two missions occupied
fifteen years; so that, while his position gave him access to the colonial
archives and literary repositories, he was enabled to verify his
researches, to some extent, by actual observation of the country.
The result was his two historical works, Memorias Antiguas Historiales
del Peru, and his Annales, sometimes cited in these pages. The former is
taken up with the early history of the country,--very early, it must be
admitted, since it goes back to the deluge. The first part of this treatise is
chiefly occupied with an argument to show the identity of Peru with the
golden Ophir of Solomon's time! This hypothesis, by no means original
with the author, may give no unfair notion of the character of his mind.
In the progress of his work he follows down the line of Inca princes,
whose exploits, and names even, by no means coincide with Garcilasso's
catalogue; a circumstance, however, far from establishing their
inaccuracy. But one will have little doubt of the writer's title to this
reproach, that reads the absurd legends told in the grave tone of reliance
by Montesinos, who shared largely in the credulity and the love of the
marvellous which belong to an earlier and less enlightened age.
These same traits are visible in his Annals, which are devoted
exclusively to the Conquest. Here, indeed, the author, after his cloudy
flight, has descended on firm ground, where gross violations of truth, or,
at least, of probability, are not to be expected. But any one who has
occasion to compare his narrative with that of contemporary writers will
find frequent cause to distrust it. Yet Montesinos has one merit. In his
extensive researches, he became acquainted with original instruments,
which he has occasionally transferred to his own pages, and which it
would be now difficult to meet elsewhere.
His writings have been commended by some of his learned countrymen,
as showing diligent research and information. My own experience
would not assign them a high rank as historical vouchers. They seem to
me entitled to little praise, either for the accuracy of their statements, or
the sagacity of their reflections. The spirit of cold indifference which
they manifest to the sufferings of the natives is an odious feature, for
which there is less apology in a writer of the seventeenth century than in
one of the primitive Conquerors, whose passions had been inflamed by
longprotracted hostility. M. Ternaux-Compans has translated the
Memorias Antiguas with his usual elegance and precision, for his
collection of original documents relating to the New World. He speaks
in the Preface of doing the same kind office to the Annales, at a future
time. I am not aware that he has done this; and I cannot but think that
the excellent translator may find a better subject for his labors in some of
the rich collection of the Munoz manuscripts in his possession.
History of the Conquest of Peru
by William Hickling Prescott