The old and the new Peru

by Marie Robinson Wright

While the Inca’s couriers were collecting the royal treasure from the temples and palaces of Tahuantinsuyo and despatching it from the four quarters of the empire to Cajamarca, the imprisoned monarch continued to live in the Spanish quarters, free to go about in the apartments that had been reserved for his use, and treated with the respect due to his rank, though always under strict surveillance. He was allowed the society of his wives, and could receive visits from his nobles who came daily to bring presents and to offer condolence. Through these messengers he learned that Huascar was plotting to escape from captivity and secure the throne, and that he had sent word to the Spaniards promising to raise a greater ransom than Atahuallpa could obtain, who had never been in Cuzco and knew nothing of its wealth. These reports both angered and alarmed the Inca, who knew very well that his half-brother’s claim to the throne would meet with a powerful support among his former subjects if Huascar should gain his freedom, and that such an event would of itself suffice to convince the whole nation that Huascar was favored by their deity, and that Atahuallpa’s captivity was the just punishment of a usurper. This condition of affairs was eminently satisfactory to Pizarro, who saw that whichever sovereign he chose to support must be in reality his vassal, and that between the two he was likely to collect into his coffers all the treasures of Peru.

Although the historians of the Conquest generally agree that Huascar met a violent death by the secret orders of his brother, the chroniclers of that time were, as a rule, not impartial in their statements, and it is known only that Huascar was assassinated,—by whose order is not certain. Pizarro was enraged when he heard of Huascar’s death and immediately charged Atahuallpa with the crime. A stronger guard was placed to watch the Inca’s apartments and he was under constant suspicion. Pizarro held him responsible also for delays in the arrival of the royal treasure, until the Inca, to prove his good faith, offered to provide safe-conduct to any officers the Spaniards might send to superintend its collection and transport. Emissaries of Pizarro were despatched to Pachacámac and Cuzco, which Atahuallpa indicated as the chief repositories of wealth, though the messenger found Pachacámac already dismantled of its treasures when he arrived; what became of its gold has never been learned. The soldiers commissioned to collect the treasures of Cuzco returned with marvellous stories of its wealth and magnificence. They found the Temple of the Sun “literally covered with plates of gold,” which they stripped from its sacred walls in such a frenzy of avarice that the natives were disgusted beyond measure. The historian Herrera says they secured seven hundred gold plates, ten or twelve inches in diameter, besides other rich ornaments, though they did not accomplish their mission so successfully as they would have done had they been less brutal and rapacious in their conduct.

Pizarro would have liked to go on to Cuzco himself and secure possession of the Imperial capital; but, as the reinforcements that Almagro was to bring from Panamá had not arrived, he feared to undertake such a journey, protected only by a small force, especially as the safe-keeping of the Inca would require a powerful guard when passing through the heart of his populous dominions. While the emissaries were on their way to get the Inca’s treasure, Almagro reached Cajamarca with one hundred and fifty men and fifty horses, besides plenty of ammunition; and Pizarro at once began to lay his plans for the proposed march to Cuzco. Meanwhile the pile of gold was rapidly increasing, and though it did not reach the promised height, it amounted, in all, to more than fifteen million dollars in value, and was the largest ransom that had ever been paid by a sovereign captive. In spite of the impatience of his jailers, Atahuallpa had accomplished wonders in the prompt collection of such a vast treasure, brought from long distances, over mountains and across rivers, by the most primitive method of transport. He was beginning to feel very happy in his fancied security, and looked forward to completing his ransom without the slightest difficulty, when events occurred, or were reported to have occurred, which gave Pizarro an excuse to claim the ransom without releasing his prisoner,—indeed, while condemning him to a cruel death.

As the magnificent treasure of gold and silver grew before the eyes of the Conquerors, their avarice became too strong to be controlled by any sentiment of justice or consideration, and they refused to wait longer for a division of the spoils; they urged many reasons why the gold should be melted down and divided without further delay, and at last Pizarro gave the necessary orders. It was agreed that some rare and beautiful vases, utensils of the temples, ornaments, and curious imitations of plants and animals, should be sent, intact, as part of the royal fifth, to the Spanish sovereign. When the division of the prize was made, Pizarro kept the Inca’s gold throne, and became the possessor of nearly a million dollars as his share of the treasure. His brother received one-fourth of this amount and Hernando de Soto much less.

CAJAMARCA, WHERE ATAHUALLPA WAS SEIZED AND EXECUTED BY PIZARRO’S ORDER.

When the Inca saw that the price of his ransom had been seized and divided among his captors he very naturally demanded his freedom. But Pizarro placed expediency far above justice, and he had no intention of releasing the captive. On the other hand, he was anxious to get on to Cuzco. He did not want to be burdened with the care of the royal prisoner, if it could be avoided. What was to be done? To one of Pizarro’s character, the end in view was of so much greater importance than the means by which he gained it, that it is not likely he would have found difficulty in securing a pretext for the execution of Atahuallpa, if necessary. But, again good fortune brought to his hand the weapon for his destructive purpose, in the form of rumors to the effect that the friends of Atahuallpa were planning an attack on the Spaniards, and that a large force was encamped only a hundred miles from the city, ready to march on them, seize their gold and carry off the Inca. The unfortunate prisoner was at once charged with being the author of the plot, which probably originated in Pizarro’s own fertile brain. There was a vehement demand for his execution. Pizarro appeared unwilling to take such extreme measures and sent Hernando de Soto—Atahuallpa’s best friend in the camp—at the head of an expedition to find out the truth about the rumored uprising. While De Soto was absent, Pizarro “consented to listen to the importunities of his soldiers,” held a trial in which the Inca was proved guilty of having usurped the throne; of assassinating his brother; of fraud, idolatry, polygamy, and, finally, of attempting to excite an insurrection against the Spaniards. He was condemned to be burnt to death that very night in the plaza; but, in case that he embraced the Christian religion and was baptized, his sentence would be commuted to death by strangulation.

The annals of crime furnish no more odious example of heartless cruelty than is shown in Pizarro’s treatment of the Inca sovereign. Not in a single instance did the Conqueror keep faith with the Indian emperor, whom he seized by fraud, persecuted on the flimsiest pretexts, and murdered without a shred of evidence against the condemned. Is it any wonder that when the news of the verdict was conveyed to Atahuallpa he was overwhelmed by the horror of it, and exclaimed: “What have I done that I should meet with such a fate?” It is said that Pizarro was visibly affected when the doomed prince turned to him, and said: “And from your hands, too—you, who have met with friendship and kindness from my people, with whom I have shared my treasures, who have received nothing but benefits from my hands!” But however Pizarro may have been affected, he did not allow any softer impulse to sway him from inflicting death by the garrote on the innocent victim of his ambition.

Two hours after sunset on the 29th of August, 1533, the emperor of the Incas was led out, chained hand and foot, into the plaza which he had entered a few months before as the proud and powerful representative of a noble dynasty. And the mighty change had been wrought entirely through his too friendly protection of a band of invaders, his too princely welcome to a treacherous chief, and his too lavish gifts to an unscrupulous enemy. The ceremony of baptism was performed by Father Valverde, as the Inca had consented to embrace Christianity rather than be burned at the stake. It is related that Atahuallpa implored Pizarro to take compassion on his young children and protect them, after which he resigned himself to his fate and met death without giving a sign. The official obsequies were performed the following day, Father Valverde reading the service of the dead, while Pizarro and the principal cavaliers attended in deep mourning.

The execution of Atahuallpa did not take place any too soon, so far as Pizarro’s designs were concerned, for Hernando de Soto returned to Cajamarca a couple of days later with the news that the whole story of an uprising was a canard and Atahuallpa was innocent! Great was the sorrow and indignation of De Soto to learn that the Inca had been executed; for this brave cavalier was a friend of the unhappy monarch and had shielded him on more than one occasion when the fierce temper of the soldiers threatened him with harm. Pizarro quailed before the noble spirit of his braver and better comrade, and sought to throw the blame on Valverde, who in turn repudiated all share of responsibility in the shameful business, saying he had acted only as Pizarro’s chaplain. It was evident that no one cared to father the fraud by which, under the name of justice, the Inca’s death had been accomplished.