The old and the new Peru

by Marie Robinson Wright

FRANCISCO PIZARRO, CONQUEROR OF PERU AND FOUNDER OF LIMA.

Valverde thus gave the first signal of attack; Pizarro then waved a white kerchief and the gun boomed its fateful command from the fortress. In an instant the Spaniards poured into the plaza, yelling their battle-cry, while the guns kept up a deafening noise; the horses plunged into the terror-stricken ranks of the Inca’s attendants, trampling hundreds under their iron hoofs; both infantry and cavalry wrought havoc with their swords, and the plaza—a few minutes before brilliant with the splendor and gaiety of a royal train, come to honor the stranger and accept his proffered hospitality—became a scene of carnage and death, a horrible spectacle, though welcome enough to the treacherous host, whose invitation had been given with this very object in view.

It is not strange that panic seized the followers of Atahuallpa when the Spaniards made their murderous onslaught, unaccustomed as the Indians were to the sound and smoke of the cannon, the sight of rearing, prancing steeds, and the glitter of the long, sharp swords, which the bearded “palefaces” used with such deadly effect. The Inca’s nobles pressed closely around the royal litter, sheltering their beloved sovereign until cut down by the assailants, when their places were immediately filled by others. His faithful attendants sought to force back the cavaliers by clinging to their saddles and trying to unhorse them, never loosening their grip until the cruel blade of the Spaniard put an end to their pitiful efforts. So persistently did the brave nobles interpose themselves between the enemy and the sacred person of their sovereign that it seemed impossible for Pizarro’s men to secure their prize; and some of his officers would have taken the Inca’s life to prevent his eluding them, had it not been for Pizarro’s command, “Let no one harm the Inca on peril of his life!” Finally, as the fierce struggle closed in around the royal palanquin, and one after another of those who bore it aloft was slain, it was overturned, the monarch being saved from a fall by Pizarro, who caught him in his arms.

What irony of fate! The stranger whom Atahuallpa had permitted to come to the very threshold of his royal palace, without offering any hindrance; who had declared his mission to be one of peace, and had offered the service of his arms against the royal enemies; who had invited the Inca to eat at his table, a courtesy to which the monarch responded in a truly royal spirit by presenting himself unarmed to accept the hospitality;—this stranger had first insulted him through the mouth of his priest; had then attacked the invited guest, who was entirely defenceless; had turned all the force of unfamiliar arms against a panic-stricken multitude and needlessly butchered them; and, finally, had made the monarch his prisoner by catching him in his arms, as a Spaniard’s sword pierced the heart of the monarch’s last faithful protector!

The sequel to the Inca’s capture is well known. Apparently, the unfortunate victim did not at first comprehend what had passed, and it is related by one of the conquerors that, when conveyed to the royal tambo, where he dined with Pizarro the evening of the tragedy, according to his promise, the prisoner even congratulated his captor on the cleverness with which his royal person had been seized in the midst of his troops. That the disappearance of their sovereign within the Spanish quarters should have sufficed to effect the conquest of his empire, is easily explained in the very nature of his authority, which was so absolute that it governed the spirit as well as the mind and person of every creature in his realm. The Inca a prisoner? It was as if Deity had condescended to permit his omnipotence to be dominated; but how, then, could the puny effort of mere mortals avail, where the Son of the Sun himself had not resisted? When his soldiers learned that their leader no longer commanded them, the effect of such an incomprehensible, incredible, and to them, impossible, situation overwhelmed them with awe for the white man, whom they looked upon as superhuman and invincible.

The great majority of the royal army was still on the march from Cuzco at the time of Atahuallpa’s capture; and not only was there no immediate possibility of his rescue, but there was great fear in the Inca’s mind lest his half-brother, Huascar, should escape from prison and ascend the throne of Cuzco. He felt the necessity of obtaining his freedom at all costs and as speedily as possible. The astute monarch had not been slow to observe that the sight of gold produced a marvellous effect on the Spaniards, whose eyes glistened with greed when some of their party, sent to pillage the royal encampment, returned with gold and silver plate, and precious ornaments taken from the bodies of the nobles who had perished in the massacre.

The Inca took the first opportunity to appeal to Pizarro’s ruling passion by promising the Conqueror that if he would give him his freedom the Spaniards should have all the gold they wanted. Standing up in his prison and marking a place on the wall as high as he could reach, he said that he would fill the room up to that height with gold, and the adjoining room he would fill twice with silver as the price of his ransom. The brother of the Conqueror relates in his memoirs that the apartment to be filled with gold was thirty-five feet long by eighteen feet wide! Pizarro accepted Atahuallpa’s offer, though there is nothing to indicate that he held himself in any way bound to fulfil his part of the contract. Perfidious to the last degree in every relation of his life, it is not strange that he should have shown toward a captive and a heathen the same disregard for his word as appeared in his dealings with his best friends. Meantime he set to work assiduously, with the help of Father Valverde, to prove to Atahuallpa that the faith of the Spaniards was the only true faith; and his unanswerable argument was that the Spaniards’ God had brought victory to his children, while the Inca’s deity had deserted his own in their hour of need;—which the Inca found it impossible to deny.

GENEALOGY OF FRANCISCO PIZARRO, CONQUEROR OF PERU.