When the Inca entered the fatal gates from which he was never to return, his curiosity was his chief emotion. Forgetting the habitual Oriental gravity of the throne, he started up, and continued standing as he passed along, gazing with eagerness at every surrounding object. A friar, named Valverde, now approached, bearing a cross and a Bible. The friar commenced his harangue by declaring that the pope had given the Indies to Spain; that the Inca was bound to obey; that the book he carried contained the only true mode of worshiping Heaven.
“Where am I to find your religion?” said the Inca.
“In this book,” replied the friar.
The Inca declared that whatever might be the peaceful intentions of the Spaniards, “he well knew how they had acted on the road, how they had treated his caciques, and burned his cottages.” He then took the Bible, and turning over some of the leaves, put it eagerly to his ear.
“This book,” said he, “has no tongue; it tells me nothing.” With these words he flung it contemptuously on the ground.
The friar exclaimed at the impiety, and called on his countrymen for revenge. The Inca spoke a few words to his people, which were answered by murmurs of indignation. At this moment Pizarro gave the signal to his troops: a general discharge of cannon, musketry, and crossbows followed, and smote down the unfortunate Peruvians. The cavalry were let loose, and they broke through the Inca’s guard at the first shock. Pizarro rushed forward at the head of a chosen company of shield-bearers, to seize the Inca.
Pizarro seizing the Inca.
That sovereign was surrounded by a circle of his high officers and devoted servants. They never moved except to throw themselves upon the Spanish swords. They saw that their prince was doomed, and they gave themselves up to his fate. The circle rapidly thinned, and the Inca would soon have been slain, had not Pizarro called to his soldiers to forbear. He wished to take the Inca alive, that he might extort gold from him for his ransom.
Pizarro, therefore, rushed forward, and, seizing the Inca by the mantle, dragged him to the ground. The Peruvians, seeing his fall in the midst of the Spanish lances, thought he was slain, and instantly gave up the battle. In the force of their despair they burst through one of the walls and fled over the open country. More than two thousand were left dead within the gates, while not a single Spaniard had been killed. It was a murder rather than a battle.