America. A history

Nov. 1524 A.D. The early history of the expedition was disastrous. Pizarro sailed from Panama on his career of conquest, attended by eighty men and four horses. He crept down the coast; landing occasionally to find only a rugged and barren country. Hunger fell on his followers, and many died. The Indians assailed them with poisoned arrows, and slew some. The forests were impenetrably dense; the climate was unwholesome. Almagro brought a small reinforcement; but the employment became intolerable, and the men, losing heart, returned to Panama. Pizarro, with only fourteen followers, sought shelter on an uninhabited island, “which those who have seen it compare to the infernal regions.” Here they spent three wretched months, living on shell-fish and what else the sharpened eye of hunger could discover. 1527 A.D. Strengthened by supplies which Almagro was able to send, they set forth once more and moved southward along the coast. And now they found the region of which they had dreamed so long. They landed in the northern part of Peru. Gold was everywhere. They found a temple whose walls were lined with plates of gold; a palace where every vessel, for use or for ornament, was formed of gold. The people were gentle, and received them hospitably. But Pizarro had no more than fourteen men with him – a force wholly inadequate for purposes of conquest. 1528 A.D. He returned to Panama, and thence to Spain, bearing to the King the thrilling story of his marvellous discovery. The King bestowed large rights of government upon the successful adventurer; and as the conversion of the natives was an end steadily prosecuted by the Spanish Government, a bishopric in the newly-found territory was assigned to his partner De Luque. But Pizarro had omitted to obtain honours or advantages for Almagro – an omission which drew in its train a long series of destructive strifes among the conquerors.

Dec. 1530 A.D. Once more Pizarro set forth to conquer the great kingdom of which he now claimed to be governor. His forces consisted of one hundred and eighty-three men and thirty-seven horses. He found it necessary to wait for additional strength; and he encamped in an unhealthy locality, where his men suffered severely. At length he was joined by a reinforcement of fifty-six men, one-half of whom were mounted. He had incurred a delay of seven months; but the time was well spent. While he waited the Peruvians lightened his task by a civil war, in which multitudes perished. To secure retreat, in event of disaster, Pizarro resolved to found a city. He chose a convenient site, and erected several strong buildings, among which were a church, a court-house, and a fortress. He left fifty men to garrison his settlement, to which he gave the name of San Miguel, in recognition of services rendered to him by that saint in a recent battle. He divided the neighbouring lands among his citizens, and assigned to each a certain number of Indians – an arrangement which, as he was assured, was not merely indispensable to the comfort of the settlers, but “would serve the cause of religion and tend greatly to the spiritual welfare” of the savages thus provided for.

And now his simple preparations were completed. He had learned that at the distance of twelve days’ journey eastward beyond the great mountain barrier of the Cordilleras the Peruvian monarch was encamped with a powerful army, flushed with victory in the civil war which had just closed. It seemed a wild adventure to go forth with a hundred and eighty men against an enemy computed at fifty thousand. But Pizarro knew what Cortes had accomplished with means apparently as inadequate; he trusted in the well-proved courage of his men, the vast superiority of their arms, and the favour of the saints. He had placed himself where hesitation must draw in its train inevitable ruin. But there was no hesitation in the steady purpose of the resolute, tenacious Pizarro. He determined to encounter the victorious Inca. Sept. 24, 1532 A.D. He marched forth from the gates of his little town, eastward towards the mountains and the unknown perils which lay beyond.

For several days the march of the Spaniards led them across the rich plains which lay between the mountains and the sea. Their progress was easy and pleasant, and they passed several well-built and apparently prosperous towns, whose inhabitants hospitably supplied their wants. At length the vast heights of the Andes cast their shadows on the little army, and the toilsome ascent was begun. The path was so steep that the cavalry dismounted and with difficulty led their horses upward; so narrow that there was barely room for a horse to walk; in many places it overhung abysses thousands of feet in depth, into which men and horses looked with fear. As they rose, the opulent vegetation of the tropics was left behind, and they passed through dreary forests of stunted pine-wood. The piercing cold was keenly felt by men and horses long accustomed to the sultry temperature of the plains. But the summit was reached in safety, and the descent of the eastern slope begun. As they followed the downward path, each step disclosed some new scene of grandeur or of beauty.

On the seventh day, the hungry eyes of the adventurers looked down on a fertile valley. A broad stream flowed through its well-cultivated meadows; the white walls of a little city glittered in the evening sun; far as the eye could reach there stretched along the slopes of the surrounding hills the tents which sheltered the Peruvian army. The Spaniards had reached their destination. They had reached the city of Cassamarca, and they were almost in presence of the Inca Atahualpa, whom they had come to subdue and destroy. In the stoutest heart of that little party there was for the moment “confusion, and even fear.” But no retreat was possible now. Pizarro formed his men in order of battle, and with unmoved countenance strode towards the city.

Nov. 15, 1532 A.D. The Inca knew of the coming of his visitors, and had made some preparations for their reception. Quarters were assigned to them in a range of buildings which opened upon a vast square. It was evening when they arrived; but Pizarro lost no time in sending one of his brothers, with Fernando de Soto and a small troop of horsemen, to wait upon the Inca and ascertain his dispositions. The ambassadors were admitted to the royal presence and informed that next morning the monarch with his chieftains would visit Pizarro. Riding back to their quarters, the men thought gloomily of the overwhelming force into whose presence they had rashly thrust themselves. Their comrades shared the foreboding which the visit to the Peruvian camp had inspired. When night came on they looked out almost hopelessly upon the watch-fires of the Peruvians, which seemed to them “as numerous as the stars of heaven.”

Happily for the desponding warriors, the courage of their chief was unshaken by the dangers which surrounded him. Pizarro did not conceal from himself the jeopardy in which he stood. He saw clearly that ruin was imminent. But he saw, too, how by a measure of desperate boldness he might not only save his army from destruction, but make himself master of the kingdom. He would seize the Inca in presence of his army. Once in possession of the sacred person he could make his own terms. He could wait for the reinforcements which his success was sure to bring; at the worst, he could purchase a safe retreat to the coast. He informed the soldiers of his purpose, and roused their sinking courage by assurances of divine favour and protection.

Nov. 16, 1532 A.D. At sunrise next morning Pizarro began to make his preparations. In the halls which formed the ground-floor of the buildings beside the grand square he disposed his horsemen and footmen. His two pieces of artillery were planted on the fortress which looked down on the square. The arms of the men were carefully examined, and the chief made himself sure that swords were sharp and arquebusses loaded. Then mass was said, and the men, who stood ready to commit one of the foulest crimes in history, joined devoutly in the chant, “Rise, O Lord, and judge thine own cause.” About noon the sentinel on the fortress reported that the Inca had set out from his camp. He himself, seated on a throne of massive gold, was borne aloft on the shoulders of his principal nobles; before him moved a crowd of attendants whose duty it was to sweep every impurity from the path about to be honoured by the advance of royalty; on either hand his soldiers gathered towards the road to guard their King. At a little distance from the city, Atahualpa paused, in seeming doubt as to the measure he was adopting, and sent word to Pizarro that he would defer his visit till the morrow. Pizarro dreaded to hold his soldiers longer under the strain which approaching danger laid upon them. He sent to entreat the Inca to resume his journey, and the Inca complied with the treacherous request.

About sunset the procession reached the gates of the square. The servants, drawing aside, opened an avenue along which the monarch was borne. After him a multitude of Peruvians of all ranks crowded into the square, till five or six thousand men were present. No Spaniard had yet been seen; for Pizarro apparently shunned to look in the face of the man whom he had betrayed. At length his chaplain advanced and began to explain to the astonished monarch the leading doctrines of the Christian religion. As his exposition proceeded, it was noticed that the Peruvian troops were drawing closer to the city. Pizarro hastened now to strike the blow which he had prepared. A gun was fired from the fortress. At this appointed signal the Spaniards rushed from their hiding-places. The musketeers plied their deadly weapons. The cavalry spurred fiercely among the unarmed crowd. High overhead flashed the swords of the pitiless assailants. The ground was quickly heaped with dead, and even flight was impossible until a portion of the wall which bounded the square yielded under the pressure of the crowd and permitted many to gain the open country. Around the Inca a fierce battle raged, – such a battle as can be fought between armed and steel-clad men and others without arms, offering their defenceless bosoms to the steel of the slayer in the vain hope that thus they might purchase the safety of their master. The bearers of the Inca were struck down, and he himself was taken prisoner and instantly secured. The cavalry, giving full scope to the fierce passions which the fight aroused, urged the pursuit of the fugitives far beyond the limits of the city. The Peruvian army, panic-stricken by these appalling circumstances, broke and fled. Less than an hour ago Atahualpa was a great monarch, whose wish was the law of a nation; the possessor of vast treasures; the commander of a powerful army. Now his throne was overturned; his army had disappeared; he himself was a captive in the hands of strangers, regarding whom he knew only that their strength was irresistible and their hearts fierce and cruel.

The fallen monarch, perceiving the insatiable greed of gold which inspired his captors, sought to regain his liberty by offers whose magnitude bewildered the Spaniards. He offered to fill with gold, up to a height of nine feet, a room whose area was seventeen feet in breadth and twenty-two feet in length. A room of smaller dimensions was to be twice filled with silver; and he asked only two months to collect this enormous ransom. The offer was accepted, and the Inca sent messengers to all his cities commanding that temples and palaces should be stripped of their ornaments. In a few weeks Indian bearers began to arrive at Cassamarca, laden to their utmost capacity with silver and gold. Day by day they poured in, bearing great golden vessels, which had been used in the palaces; great plates of gold, which had lined the walls and roofs of temples; crowns and collars and bracelets of gold, which the chieftains gave up in the hope that they would procure the liberty of their master. At length the room was filled up to the red line which Pizarro had drawn upon the wall as his record of this extraordinary bargain. When it was acknowledged that the Inca had completely fulfilled his stipulation,26 Pizarro executed an Act in presence of a notary, and proclaimed it to the sound of the trumpet in the great square of Cassamarca. By this document he certified that the Inca had paid the stipulated ransom, and was now in consequence liberated. But he did not, in actual fact, set the captive monarch free. On the contrary, he informed him that until a larger number of Spaniards arrived to hold the country, it was necessary for the service of the King of Spain that Atahualpa should continue a prisoner.

Meanwhile rumours became current in the camp that Atahualpa had ordered a great rising of his people to destroy the invaders. The Spaniards had been recently joined by Almagro with important reinforcements; but still they were no more than four hundred men, and they were in possession of treasure which exposed them to apprehensions unfelt by the penniless adventurer. It was asserted that a vast army was gathering only a hundred miles away; at length the imaginary force was reported to be within ten miles. The cry arose that the Inca should be brought to trial for his treasonable practices. A court was formed, with Pizarro and Almagro as presiding judges; counsel were named to prosecute and defend; charges were framed,27 and the unhappy Inca was placed at the bar. The evidence taken reached the court through the doubtful channel of an Indian interpreter, who, it was believed, sought the destruction of the prisoner. The judges occupied themselves with discussion, not of the guilt of the accused, but of the results which his execution might be expected to produce. Their judgment was death by burning, as befitted an idolater. Aug. 29, 1533 A.D. The whole army claimed a voice in the great decision. A few condemned the proceedings, and urged that the Inca should be sent to Spain to wait the pleasure of the King. But the voice of the larger number confirmed the sentence of the court, and it was intimated to Atahualpa that he must prepare for immediate death. The fallen monarch lost, for a moment, the habitual calmness with which an Indian warrior is accustomed to meet death. With many tears he besought Pizarro to spare him. Even the stern conqueror was moved in view of misery so deep; but he was without power to reverse the doom which his army had spoken. Two hours after sunset, Atahualpa was led forth, with chains on hand and foot. The great square was lighted up by torches, and the Spanish soldiers gathered around the closing scene in the ruin which they had wrought. The Inca was bound to the stake, and rude hands piled high the fagots around him. A friar who had instructed him in Christian doctrine besought him to accept the faith, promising in that event the leniency of death by the cord instead of the flame. Atahualpa accepted the offered grace, and abjured his idolatry. He was instantly baptized under the name of Juan, in honour of John the Baptist, on whose day this conversion was achieved. With his latest breath he implored Pizarro to have pity on his little children. While he spoke, the string of a cross-bow was tightened around his neck, and, with the rugged soldiers muttering “credos” for the repose of his soul, the last of the Incas submitted to death in its most ignominious form. Next morning they gave him Christian burial in the little wooden church which they had already erected in Cassamarca. His great lords, as we are assured, “received much satisfaction” from the honour thus bestowed upon their unhappy prince.28

Sept. 1533 A.D. Almost immediately after these occurrences Pizarro marched southward and possessed himself easily of the Peruvian capital – “the great and holy city of Cusco.” Although the capital had parted with much of its treasure in obedience to the requisition of its captive monarch, there still remained a vast spoil to enrich the plunderers. In especial, mention is made of ten or twelve statues of female figures, of life size, made wholly of fine gold, “beautiful and well-formed as if they had been alive.” The Spaniards appropriated these and much besides. The great Temple of the Sun was speedily rifled; for the piety of the conquerors conspired with their avarice to hasten the downfall of idolatrous edifices. In this temple the embalmed bodies of former Incas, richly adorned, sat on golden thrones beside the golden image of the Sun. The venerated mummies were now stripped and cast aside. The image of the Sun became the prize of a common soldier, by whom it was quickly lost in gambling. Pizarro claimed the land for the Church as well as for the King. He overthrew temples; he cast down idols; he set up crosses on all highways; he erected a Christian place of worship in Cusco.

Cusco was the worthy capital of a great empire. It was of vast extent, and contained a population variously estimated at from two to four hundred thousand persons. The streets crossed regularly at right angles; the houses were built mainly of stone, with light thatched roofs. The numerous palaces29 were of great size, and splendid beyond anything the conquerors had seen in Europe. A mighty fortress, built upon a lofty rock, looked down on the city. It was formed of enormous blocks of stone, fitted with such care that the point of junction could not be discovered. Two streams descending from the mountains flowed through the city in channels lined with masonry. This noble city was the pride of all Peruvians. It was to them all that Jerusalem was to the ancient Jews or Rome to the Romans.

The natives offered no considerable resistance to the entrance of the conquerors. Vast multitudes had gathered out of the neighbouring country. They looked with wonder and with awe upon the terrible strangers who had slain their monarch, who were now marching at their ease through the land, claiming as their own whatever they desired. They heard the heavy tramp of the war-horse and the strange thrilling notes of the trumpet. They saw the mysterious arms before whose destructive power so many of their countrymen had fallen, and the bright mail within whose shelter the Spaniard could slay in safety the undefended Indian. They may well have regarded the fierce bearded warriors as beings of supernatural strength and supernatural wickedness.

But the time came when they could no longer endure the measureless wrongs which had been heaped upon them; when they were impelled to dash themselves against the mailed host of their conquerors and perish under their blows if they could not destroy them. No injury which it was possible for man to inflict upon his fellows had been omitted in their bitter experience. Their King had been betrayed and ignominiously slain; their temples had been profaned and plundered; their possessions had been seized or destroyed; dishonour had been laid upon them in their domestic relations; they themselves had been subjected to compulsory service so ruthlessly enforced that many of them died under the unaccustomed toil. They were now to make one supreme effort to cast off this oppression, which had already gone far to destroy the life of their nation.

Jan. 1535 A.D. Pizarro – raised to the dignity of Marquis – had retired to the coast, where he occupied himself in founding and embellishing the city of Lima. His brother Fernando – a stout-hearted and skilful captain – was left in charge of Cusco. Danger was not apprehended, and the garrison of Cusco was no more than two hundred Spaniards and a thousand native auxiliaries. While the Spaniards enjoyed their lordly repose in the splendid palaces of the fallen monarchy, the Peruvian chiefs organized a formidable revolt. From all the provinces of the empire multitudes of armed natives gathered around Cusco, and took up position on hills where they were safe from the attack of Spanish horsemen. Many of them were armed with lances or axes of copper tempered so that they were scarcely less effective than steel. Every man in all those dusky ranks was prepared to spend his life in the effort to rescue the sacred city from this abhorred invasion. Feb. 1536 A.D. They set fire to the city; they forced their way into the streets, and fought hand to hand with the Spaniards in desperate disregard of the inequality of their arms. They fell slaughtered in thousands; but in six days’ fighting they had gained the fortress and nearly all of the city which the flames had spared. The Spaniards held only the great square and a few of the surrounding houses. Some despaired, and began to urge that they should mount and ride for the coast, forcing their way through the lines of the besiegers. But the stout heart of Fernando Pizarro quailed not in presence of the tremendous danger. In his mind, he told them, there was not and there had not been any fear. If he were left alone he would maintain the defence till he died, rather than have it said that another gained the city and he lost it. The Spaniard of that day was unsurpassed in courage, and his spirit rose to the highest pitch of daring in response to the appeal of a trusted leader. The men laid aside all thought of flight, and addressed themselves to the capture of the great fortress. This strong position was fiercely attacked, and defended with unavailing heroism. Many Spaniards were slain, among whom was Juan, one of the Pizarro brothers, on whose undefended head a great stone inflicted fatal injury. The slaughter of Indians was very great. At length their ammunition failed them – the stones and javelins and arrows with which they maintained the defence were exhausted. Their leader had compelled the admiration of the Spaniards by his heroic bearing throughout the fight. When he had struck his last blow for his ruined country he flung his club among the besiegers, and, casting himself down from the height of the battlement, perished in the fall. “There is not written of any Roman such a deed as he did,” says the Spanish chronicler. May, 1536 A.D. The defence now ceased; the Spaniards forced their way into the fortress, and slaughtered without mercy the fifteen hundred men whom they found there.

For several weeks longer the Indians blockaded Cusco, and the Spaniards were occasionally straitened in regard to supplies; but always at the time of new moon the Indians withdrew for the performance of certain religious ceremonies, and the Spaniards were able then to replenish their exhausted granaries. The siege languished, and finally ceased, but not till the Spaniards had practised for some time the cruel measure of putting to death every Indian woman whom they seized.

But now misery in a new form came upon this unhappy country. Fierce strifes arose among the conquerors themselves. Pizarro had gained higher honours and ampler plunder than had fallen to the share of his partner Almagro, and it does not seem that he was scrupulous in his fulfilment of the contract by whose terms an equal division of spoil was fixed. Almagro appeared on the scene with an overwhelming force, to assert his own rights. For ten or twelve years from this time the history of Peru represents to us a country ungoverned and in confusion; a native population given over to slavery, and wasting under the exactions of ruthless task-masters; fierce wars between the conquerors devastating the land. 1537 A.D. Tranquillity was not restored till a large portion of the native population had perished, and till all the chiefs of this marvellous conquest had died as miserably as the Indians they had destroyed. Almagro entered Cusco, and made prisoners of the two brothers Fernando and Gonzalo Pizarro; whom, however, he soon liberated. 1538 A.D. He, in turn, fell into the hands of Fernando, by whose orders he was brought for trial before a tribunal set up for that occasion in Cusco. He was condemned to die; – partly for his “notorious crimes;” partly because, as the council deemed, his death “would prevent many other deaths.” On the same day the old man, feeble, decrepit, and begging piteously for life, was strangled in prison and afterwards beheaded. Immediately after this occurrence Fernando Pizarro sailed for Spain, where his enemies had gained the ear of the King. Fernando was imprisoned, and was not released for twenty-three years, till his long life of a hundred years was near its close. 1541 A.D. Three years after the death of Almagro, the Marquis Pizarro, now a man of seventy, was set upon in his own house in Lima and murdered by a band of soldiers dissatisfied with the portion of spoil which had fallen to their share. The close of that marvellous career was in strange contrast to its brilliant course. After a stout defence against overwhelming force, a fatal wound in the throat prostrated the brave old man. He asked for a confessor, and received for answer a blow on the face. With his finger he traced the figure of a cross on the ground, and pressed his dying lips on the hallowed symbol. Thus passed the stern conqueror and destroyer of the Peruvian nation. 1548 A.D. A few years after the assassination of the Marquis, his brother Gonzalo was beheaded for having resisted the authority of Spain; and he died so poor, as he himself stated on the scaffold, that even the garments he wore belonged to the executioner who was to cut off his head. The partnership which was formed at Panama a quarter of a century before, had brought wealth and fame, but it conducted those who were chiefly concerned in it to misery and shameful death.