Valverde addressing Atahualpa.
Atahualpa, the Peruvian emperor, treated the strangers with great courtesy, and sent them several valuable presents—fruits, corn, emeralds, and vases of gold and silver. The sight of the gold and silver served to render the Spaniards more fierce, and prepare them for the cruel butcheries that followed. The following morning, Atahualpa, attended by fifteen thousand men, met Pizarro at a place previously appointed. He was borne on a throne of gold. As the procession approached Pizarro, a Dominican friar, by the name of Valverde, made a long address to the emperor, in which he endeavored to expound the Christian religion; following which, he proposed to him a submission to the king of Spain, on the ground that the pope had made a present to him of Peru.
To this, Atahualpa replied, that he was willing to be the friend of the king of Spain, but not his vassal. The pope he considered a very extraordinary personage to make a present of that which did not belong to him; and as to those whom the friar denominated Christians—"If," said he, "they worship a God who died upon a cross, I worship the Sun, who never dies." After further efforts at persuasion, Valverde became indignant, and called upon the Spaniards to vindicate their holy religion, and to wreak their just vengeance upon dogs who could thus trample upon the gospel. Upon this, a signal was given, and the work of butchery commenced in the emperor's own palace. Pizarro himself advanced towards Atahualpa, and took him prisoner, while all around the princes of the race of the Incas, the flower of the nobility, and other great men of the court, were indiscriminately put to the sword.
The cruelties that were inflicted, from this time forward, upon this unoffending people, and the riches amassed by these rapacious adventurers, so abhorred of God and men, are scarcely capable of enumeration, were it the object of this succinct account to speak of particulars. While their prince, being a prisoner, was condemned on some frivolous pretext, and strangled at the stake, they were made to expiate, by their death, the crime of owning a rich and beautiful country. Their great city of Cuzco was entered by Pizarro, in 1534, and plundered of its immense wealth. Indeed, the thirst of blood and plunder was every where exhibited in the progress of the Spaniards through the country. Had the latter shown any degree of moderation and humanity, they would probably have made themselves masters of the empire without further bloodshed than this commencement of the fearful tragedy. A people, by constitution and training so mild and submissive, would have yielded to the yoke without much reluctance. But the infinite variety of their calamities stirred up the people to revenge, and they found agents to give it, for a time, a degree of effect. But the Spaniards persevered in their efforts to overthrow the country; large numbers poured into it from abroad, and all resistance finally ceased. Those of the natives who were most attached to their liberty, to their government, and to their religion, took refuge at a distance among inaccessible mountains. The greater part of them, however, submitted to their conquerors.
Pizarro in Cuzco.
The fate of these robbers was, at length, as deplorable as that of the subjects of their rapacity and cruelty. By various causes irritated and enraged against each other, the leaders fought among themselves, and the most revolting scenes of revenge and hatred were exhibited in the result. The original leaders of the enterprise were soon no more, and others followed in the same path of robbery, blood, and mutual jealousy and contention. These civil wars continued through a series of years. Fortunately for this part of the new world, the most seditious of the conquerors, and of those who followed in their steps, had perished in these wars. With their departure was connected a degree of tranquillity, and then only the Catholic kings might with truth style themselves the sovereigns of the Spaniards settled in Peru.
Condition of the Country after the Conquest.—The native Peruvians, after their subjugation, quietly submitted to the Spanish yoke for more than two centuries. They felt keenly, in many instances, the wrongs inflicted on them, but they had no power of resistance against a disciplined European force. They were loaded with insupportable burdens, yet it was useless to complain. The exactions of their conquerors were most unreasonable and cruel, and they passed their days in sorrow, groaning under the severest bondage. It would seem that all memory of their ancient independence, and the glories of the empire of Manco Capac, was lost from among them. Under their oppressions, their spirit and resolution appeared wholly to depart; but events proved that they were capable of being aroused—if by nothing better, at least by despair.