Spanish and Portuguese South America during the Colonial Period; Vol. 1 of 2

by Robert Grant Watson

1532.

Notwithstanding the lateness of the hour, Pizarro forthwith despatched his brother Hernando, together with De Soto and a party of horsemen, to the Inca’s camp. They were received with politeness, and Atahualpa deigned to promise a visit to the Spaniards on the morrow, upon which De Soto and his companions returned to give to their comrades such an account of the state and military strength of the Peruvian monarch as filled them with dismay. At this critical moment the master spirit of Pizarro asserted its supremacy. Matters had now arrived at such a pass that all must be staked on the hazard of the die. Going amongst his men, he exhorted them not to be downcast, since from their marvellous successes hitherto they were manifestly under the special protection of the heavenly powers, and hence the numbers against them mattered nothing. He then summoned a council of officers and unfolded to them for the first time his project, which was nothing more or less than to seize the Inca. What follows is so far beyond ordinary credulity that it would not be ventured on by a writer of fiction unless he were to suppose supernatural agency.

When the morning broke of Saturday the 16th of November, the Spaniards were called to arms by the trumpet’s sound, and were acquainted by their leader with his daring plan, which was to be executed on that very day. They were then carefully stationed within the spacious buildings of Caxamalca, so as to be hidden from view until the signal should sound for their appearance. Everything, said Pizarro, depended on concert, coolness, and celerity. Nothing was overlooked by the indefatigable chief, even to the horses being furnished with bells, to add to the confusion of the Peruvians. Mass was of course performed, and the God of battles was impiously invoked in favour of the treacherous brigands. It was not, however, till late in the day that any movement was visible in the Peruvian camp; and when Atahualpa and his troops at length neared Caxamalca, the Inca sent a message to Pizarro that in consequence of the lateness of the hour he would encamp on the open for the night and pay his visit on the following morning.

His message, as we may well believe, disturbed the Spanish leader to no slight extent; but he was a man of many resources, amongst which treachery was by no means the least conspicuous. His men had been under arms all day, and their powers might be tried too far. He therefore returned a message to the effect that he had prepared an entertainment for the Inca for that evening, and he trusted he might not be disappointed in his coming. Deceived by these smooth words, the unsuspecting monarch at once gave orders for a change of plan, and leaving his warriors on the plain, came on to Caxamalca with an unarmed guard, sending on in advance a messenger to Pizarro to excuse the simplicity of his visit.

Shortly before sunset the van of the royal procession reached Caxamalca, and as the leading files entered the great square, where not a Spaniard was to be seen, the Dominican, Valverde, afterwards bishop of Cuzco, came forward with a bible and a crucifix, and attempted to explain to the astonished Peruvian the intricate doctrine of the Trinity; ranging, as we are told, from the creation of man to the representative of the Prince of the Apostles. To what must have sounded to him, hearing it as he did for the first time under these strange circumstances, as incomprehensible, the Inca replied with disdain that his god, pointing to the sinking sun, lived in the heavens above them, upon which he threw the bible to the ground. This indignity to the sacred volume scandalized Valverde, who, picking it up and hastening to Pizarro, urged him no longer to delay in giving the appointed signal. Thereupon the chief waved his scarf; the signal-gun was fired; and the Spaniards, springing like tigers from their lair, rushed upon their prey. Some thousands of unarmed Peruvians had entered with the Inca, but they were utterly powerless against the butchers who assailed them. The gates of the town had been closed on their entry; but by mere force of numbers they burst through the frail walls, and thus many of them escaped. A fierce struggle, however, raged round the golden litter of the Inca, whose person it was Pizarro’s object to secure alive, and in effecting which he himself received the only wound of which the Spaniards could boast on that shameful day, the glory of which undoubtedly rests with the Peruvians. Some thousands of them fell—all or most unarmed—through their devotion to their monarch, whom as a captive Pizarro was enabled to entertain at the feast to which he had invited him.

Some thoughtless persons have instituted a parallel, founded on numbers alone, between the attack on the Peruvians by Pizarro’s band and the defence of Thermopylæ against the Persians by the immortal three hundred. A more insulting comparison was never imagined. Leonidas and his band devoted themselves to the defence of their country, of freedom and civilization, and were sure to meet death from an overwhelming armed force. The Spaniards, on the other hand, can claim no more sympathy or respect than can a band of modern Greek brigands, who are alike entitled with them to the praise belonging to enterprise, temperance, patient endurance of severe hardship, and the most constant observance of religious duties. As to personal danger, the Spaniards engaged in the slaughter of the unarmed Peruvians attending the capture of the Inca incurred no more risk than does the butcher amongst so many sheep.

It must be confessed, however, that, its moral aspect apart, the seizure of Atahualpa was a master-stroke of policy. Such was the sacredness in which his person was regarded, that with his capture the whole activity of his government collapsed. Holding this hostage, the Spaniards were omnipotent; for the slightest attempt at a rising or rescue would have at once cost the Inca his life. Whilst the prisoner of the Spaniards, he held his court in captivity, and was treated by the highest lords and officers of his realm with the ceremonious deference which formed part of the innermost being of all who owned his theocratic sway. But notwithstanding the respectful treatment which the Inca was permitted to enjoy, he could not but pine in his captivity, and his mind bent itself to the means of obtaining his freedom. He was the more anxious in this respect, as he feared his lately defeated elder brother Huascar would turn his confinement to account by bribing his jailers to place him at liberty and set him upon the Peruvian throne.

Under these circumstances, the captive Inca one day offered to Pizarro to purchase his liberation at the cost of filling the room in which he stood to his own height—the apartment was seventeen feet by twenty-two—in gold, and the adjoining smaller room twice full with silver, which offer was accepted, two months being given for the execution of the compact. The Inca had not deceived himself in his forebodings as to the conduct of Huascar, who indeed made overtures to the Spaniard, offering a still larger bribe than had his brother. He was, however, in the hands of the latter, who, on learning his proceedings through his creatures, gave orders that he should be put to death. Meanwhile the Inca’s ransom was being collected, but ere it had reached Caxamalca the situation of affairs became materially changed by the unexpected arrival of Almagro with a reinforcement of about a hundred and seventy men. With these Pizarro now found himself in force to proceed to the south and complete the subjugation of the country. But the question presented itself, What was to be done with the Inca? To set him at liberty would manifestly be to restore cohesion to a government which had collapsed, and thus to undo what had already been effected. If, on the other hand, they should detain him in captivity, the force requisite to guard so precious a hostage would seriously cripple the operations of the conquerors.

In this trying position the Spaniards were at no loss for an excuse for a line of conduct which might justify the measure on which their chief had resolved. In the face of their experience and of all probabilities, a general Peruvian rising was invented; and notwithstanding that the Inca had paid a ransom estimated as equivalent to three million and a half pounds sterling, he was put upon his trial on charges the most absurd, and respecting which, as the circumstances stated had occurred before their arrival, the Spaniards had in any case no pretence of jurisdiction. These, however, had involved themselves so deeply that they had scarcely a choice but to wade on through crime to crime. The Inca was condemned to death, and, to keep up the grim farce to the end, his sentence was finally commuted from being burnt alive to strangulation, on condition of his professing himself a Christian. The Dominican Valverde, who had consented to his execution, has the credit of this conversion.

The death of the Inca proved, as was to be expected, the signal for disorders throughout Peru. The late monarch had, indeed, by his own proceedings at the time of his victory over his brother, paved the way for such a result; for he had given orders to exterminate all members of the Imperial house. The Peruvian empire, with its civilization, which it had cost so much to build up, and which was perhaps equivalent to that of Japan, was now at an end. The provinces remote from Cuzco lost no time in shaking off their allegiance. Early in September, Pizarro and his followers, by this time amounting to about five hundred men, set out for the Peruvian capital, taking with them a younger brother of Atahualpa, whom they set up as the nominal Inca. Their march was a severe one; and at Xauxa they had to encounter the opposition of a numerous but impotent force. From this moment their progress was disputed; and it might have fared hardly with De Soto, who was sent on in advance, had he not, while encompassed by the Peruvians after a desperate engagement in the Sierra, received timely succour from Almagro. At Xauxa Pizarro left a small garrison of forty men, who were to guard the treasure, which he did not think it prudent to take with him on the march.