Attahuallapa replied with much dignity and some apparent reserve, that he cordially accepted the friendly offers of Pizarro, and would grant him the desired interview the following morning. The Inca was a young man about thirty years of age. He was tall, admirably formed, and with a very handsome countenance. But there was an expression of sadness overspreading his features, and a pensive tone in his address, indicating that he was a man who had seen affliction.
The splendid steed from which De Soto had alighted was restlessly pawing the ground at a short distance from the tent of the Inca, attracting the particular attention and admiration of the sovereign. De Soto, perceiving the admiration which his steed elicited, remounted, and touching the spirited animal with the spur, went bounding with almost the speed of the wind over the level plain, causing his horse now to rear, and now to plunge, wheeling him around, and thus exhibiting his excellent qualities. He then came down at full speed to the spot where the Inca stood, until within a few feet of the monarch, when he checked his horse so suddenly as to throw him back upon his haunches. Some of the attendants of the Inca were evidently alarmed; but the Inca himself stood proudly immovable. He reproved his attendants for their timidity; and Mr. Prescott, who represents Attahuallapa as a very cruel man, intimates that he put some of them to death that evening for betraying such weakness before the strangers. Refreshments were offered to De Soto and his party, and a sort of wine was presented to them in golden cups, of extraordinary size.
As De Soto, having fulfilled his mission, was about to leave the royal presence and return to Caxamarca, Attahuallapa said:
"Tell your companions, that as I am keeping a fast, I cannot to-day accept their invitation. I will come to them to-morrow. I may be attended by a large and armed retinue. But let not that give you any uneasiness. I wish to cultivate your friendship and that of your king. I have already given ample proof that no harm is intended you, though your captain, I am told, mistrusts me. If you think it will please him better, I will come with few attendants and those unarmed."
De Soto warmly assured the Inca that no man could doubt his sincerity, and begged him to consult his own taste entirely in reference to the manner in which he would approach the Spaniards.
Upon the return of the cavalier to Pizarro, with an account of the interview, that perfidious chieftain proposed to his men, that they should seize the Inca and hold him in captivity as a hostage. Mr. Prescott, in his account of this infamous procedure, speaks of it in the following apologetic terms:
"Pizarro then summoned a council of his officers, to consider the plan of operations, or rather to propose to them the extraordinary plan on which he had himself decided. This was to lay an ambuscade for the Inca, and take him prisoner in the face of his whole army. It was a project full of peril, bordering as it might well seem on desperation. But the circumstances of the Spaniards were desperate. Whichever way they turned they were menaced by the most appalling dangers. And better was it to confront the danger, than weakly to shrink from it when there was no avenue for escape. To fly was now too late. Whither could they fly? At the first signal of retreat the whole army of the Inca would be upon them. Their movements would be anticipated by a foe far better acquainted with the intricacies of the Sierra than themselves; the passes would be occupied, and they would be hemmed in on all sides; while the mere fact of this retrograde movement would diminish the confidence and with it the effective strength of his own men, while it doubled that of the enemy."
The next morning was Saturday, the 16th of November, 1532. The sun rose in a cloudless sky, and great preparations were made by the Inca to display his grandeur and his power to his not very welcome guests. A large retinue preceded and followed the monarch, while a courier was sent forward to inform Pizarro of his approach. The Inca, habited in a dress which was glittering with gems and gold, was seated in a gorgeous open palanquin, borne upon the shoulders of many of his nobles.
It was five o'clock in the afternoon, when the Inca, accompanied by a small but unarmed retinue, entered the public square of the city. The tents of his troops left outside, spread far and wide over the meadows, indicating the presence of an immense host. The Inca was clothed in a flowing robe of scarlet, woven of the finest wool, and almost entirely covered with golden stars and the most precious gems. His head was covered with a turban of variegated colors, to which there was suspended a scarlet fringe, the badge of royalty. The palanquin, or throne, on which he was seated, was apparently of pure gold; and the cushion upon which he sat was covered with the most costly gems. His nobles were also dressed in the highest possible style of Peruvian wealth and art. It was estimated that the number of the nobles and officers of the court who accompanied the king into the square, was about two thousand. A large company of priests was also in attendance, who chanted the Peruvian National Hymn.
It is very difficult for an honest mind to form any just conception of such a religious fanatic, and such an irreligious wretch as this Francisco Pizarro. Just before the Peruvians arrived he had attended a solemn mass, in which the aid of the God of the Christians was fervently implored in behalf of their enterprise. The mass was closed with chanting one of the psalms of David, in which God is called upon to arise and come to judgment. Friar Vincent, who was Pizarro's spiritual adviser, and grand chaplain of the so-called Christian army, was then sent forward with the Bible in one hand and a crucifix in the other, to expound to the Inca the doctrines of the Christian faith, stating that it was for that purpose, and for that only, that the Spaniards had come into the country.