Children's Stories in American History

by Henrietta Christian Wright

He sat upon his golden throne, with his jewelled diadem upon his head, and with the royal standard, the rainbow-hued banner, carried before him. His litter was borne by the great nobles, all richly dressed, and before the throne, and for a long distance behind, marched company after company of Peruvian soldiers. As they entered the great square of Caxamalca a Spanish monk came forward and saluted the emperor with great respect.

Atahualpa looked upon the fair faces and glittering armor of the Spanish soldiers, and then upon the white robes of the priest and the gilded cross he held in his hand, and turning to his attendants, said impressively: "These strangers are the messengers of the gods; be careful of offending them."

The priest now made a long speech, in which he told the Inca that the Pope, as head of the Christian church, had given the empire of Peru to the king of Spain, and that it was the will of God that the Peruvians should all become Christians and cease to worship the Sun.

The Inca listened to this speech very patiently and asked the interpreter where the priest had learned all that strange news. The priest answered that he had learned it all from the Bible he held in his hand. Atahualpa then took the Bible, and, after looking at it curiously, held it up to his ear as if expecting to learn its secrets in that manner; but as he heard nothing, he threw it angrily from him and exclaimed haughtily, "I am very willing to be a friend of the king of Spain, but not his vassal; the Pope must be a very extraordinary man to give away a country that does not belong to him. I shall not change my religion, and if the Christians adore a God who died upon a cross, I worship the Sun, who never dies."

At these defiant words the priest turned angrily to Pizarro and made a sign. And then shouting "Santiago," the terrible war-cry of the Spaniards that had so often urged them on to victory, Pizarro seized the Inca and called upon his soldiers to come forth from their hiding-places. In a moment the place was alive with the excited Spaniards, guns were fired, and the terrified Peruvians, startled at this unexpected attack, were trampled under the horses' hoofs and blinded by the smoke, and although the Inca's guard tried in vain to protect him, they were all killed or wounded, and of the remaining Peruvians—men, women, and children—very few who had entered the square left it alive, but nearly all were murdered by the relentless Spaniards. Then the gates were closed and guarded, and the Inca was taken to Pizarro's tent, where his robe and jewels were taken from him, and after being clothed in a plainer dress he was invited to take supper with Pizarro.

Then the conqueror told his prisoner his true reason for coming to Peru, and Atahualpa heard it all with bowed head and sad face, and remembered, as he listened, the old legend of his race—how from across the seas fair-haired men were to come, bringing sorrow and destruction to the children of the Sun. The old prophecy had come true, and the last Inca of Peru was a prisoner in the hands of a strange man, with white skin and long brown hair. Pizarro slept well after his easy victory, happy in the thought that that day's work had made his name immortal, for never before in the history of the world had there been such a brilliant conquest as this. Even the name of Cortez would now stand second to his own.

The next morning Pizarro saw that the remainder of the Inca's army were making hasty preparations for departure, and in a short time scarcely a sign remained of the vast host that had been scattered over the slopes of the mountains. As Pizarro's object was simply to get all the treasures he could, he did not take any prisoners, but let the disheartened Peruvians go whither they would, and devoted himself to obtaining all the gold and jewels that could be found in Caxamalca or on the bodies of the slaughtered Indians. The Inca at once noticed the Spaniards' love of gold, and told Pizarro if he would give him his freedom he would give him a large room full of silver, and gold enough to fill half a room. Pizarro's eyes glistened at this proposal, which he at once accepted, and the Inca hastily sent some of his servants to Cuzco to order the people to bring the gold and silver from the temples and palaces. Day after day messengers arrived bringing the precious metals—vases, basins, goblets, table-service and temple-service, all of purest gold, besides golden fountains, birds, fruits, and vegetables, all carved out of the metal in the curious way known to the Indians. Two thousand men were employed in bringing this treasure, and every day Atahualpa's heart grew lighter, for he thought each night brought him nearer freedom.

But one day messengers came to the city from the Inca's brother Huascar, saying that if Pizarro would set him free from the prison where Atahualpa had confined him, he would give the conqueror twice as much gold as the Inca had promised him. Somehow this news reached Atahualpa, and in great fear lest Pizarro should accept his brother's offer, he sent Indians to kill him as he was on his way to Caxamalca. This roused Pizarro's anger, for he had meant to get the gold from both brothers, and then decide to give the kingdom to the one who would be likely to trouble him the least. So when the news of Huascar's death came to him, and he knew he would not get the gold that he had been promised, he determined that the Inca should suffer for his loss. At the same time he heard that the Peruvians were gathering an army under one of their most skilful generals, and intended attacking the Spaniards and rescuing the Inca. No time was to be lost. Pizarro called a council of his chief men, and it was decided that the Inca must be put to death and the army march at once to Cuzco. Atahualpa could not believe the terrible news when it was brought to him; in vain he pointed to the glittering piles of gold that his faithful subjects had brought for his ransom; in vain he reminded Pizarro of his promise. The conqueror of Peru thought nothing of his honor, but only of the gold that he might find in the Inca's stately palaces, and Atahualpa learned to his cost what it meant to trust in a Spanish soldier's plighted word; for, although all the officers declared that the Inca must die, it was Pizarro himself who acted as one of the judges at the trial, and it was his voice that condemned him to death.

He was sentenced to be burned to death, and at night after the trial was over he was led out to the centre of the square and bound to the stake. The Spanish soldiers stood round with torches in hands, watching intently the face of the doomed monarch, whose bearing was as proud and dignified as it had been when he first came to the Spanish camp surrounded by thousands of his faithful subjects.

After the fagots had been piled up around him, the same priest who had first urged him to become a Christian, came to him and said that if he would be baptized he might be strangled instead of burned. As this would be a much easier death, Atahualpa consented, and the priest baptized him.