Pizarro And The Inca's Golden Ransom
The great expedition to the land of gold, which Vasco Nunez de Balboa had
planned to make, was left by his death to be carried out by one of his
companions in the discovery of the South Sea, the renowned Francisco
Pizarro. It was an expedition full of romantic adventure, replete with
peril and suffering, crowded with bold ventures and daring deeds. But we
must pass over all the earlier of these and come at once to the climax of
>
the whole striking enterprise, the story of the seizure of the Inca of
Peru in the midst of his army and the tale of his incredible ransom.
Many and strange were the adventures of Pizarro, from the time when, with
one small vessel and about one hundred desperate followers, he sailed from
Panama in 1524, and ventured on the great unknown Pacific, to the time
when, in 1531, he sailed again with one hundred and eighty men and about
thirty horses and landed on the coast of Peru, which he designed to
conquer as Cortez had conquered Mexico. A faithless and cruel wretch was
this Francisco Pizarro, but he had the military merits of courage,
enterprise, daring and persistency, and these qualities carried him
through sufferings and adversities that would have discouraged almost any
man and brought him to magical success in the end. It was the beacon of
gold that lured him on through desperate enterprises and deadly perils and
led him to the El Dorado of the Spanish adventurers.
Landing and capturing a point on the coast of Peru, he marched with his
handful of bold followers, his horses and guns, eastward into the empire,
crossed the vast and difficult mountain wall of the Andes, and reached the
city of Caxamalca. Close by this city the Inca, Atahualpa, lay encamped
with an army, for a civil war between him and his brother Huascar had just
ended in the defeat and imprisonment of the latter.
Desperate was the situation of the small body of Spanish soldiers, when,
in the late afternoon of the 15th of November, 1532, they marched into
Caxamalca, which they found empty of inhabitants. About one hundred more
men, with arms and horses, had joined them, but in a military sense they
were but a handful still, and they had every reason to dread the
consequences of their rash enterprise.
All seemed threatening,--the desertion of the city by its people, the
presence of the Inca, with a powerful army, within a league's distance,
the probable hostility of the Indian emperor. All the Spaniards had to
rely on were their arms,--cannon, muskets and swords of steel,--new and
terrible weapons in that land, and their war-horses, whose evolutions had
elsewhere filled the soul of the Indian with dismay. Yet what were these
in the hands of less than three hundred men, in the presence of a strong
and victorious army? Filled with anxiety, Pizarro at once despatched a
body of horsemen, led by his brother Hernando and the famous cavalier
Hernando de Soto, to visit the Inca in his camp.
Great was the astonishment of the Indian soldiers as this strange
cavalcade, with clang of arms and blast of trumpet, swept by, man and
horse seeming like single beings to their unaccustomed eyes. De Soto, the
best mounted of them all, showed his command of his steed in the Inca's
presence, by riding furiously over the plain, wheeling in graceful curves,
and displaying all the vigor and beauty of skilled horsemanship, finally
checking the noble animal in full career when so near the Inca that some
of the foam from its lips was thrown on the royal garments. Yet, while
many of those near drew back in terror, Atahualpa maintained an
unflinching dignity and composure, hiding every show of dread, if any such
inspired him.
To the envoys he said, through an interpreter the Spaniards had brought,
"Tell your captain that I am keeping a fast, which will end to-morrow
morning. I will then visit him with my chieftains. Meanwhile, let him
occupy the public buildings on the square, and no other."
Refreshments were now offered the Spaniards, but these they declined, as
they did not wish to dismount. Yet they did not refuse to quaff the
sparkling drink offered them in golden vases of great size brought by
beautiful maidens. Then they rode slowly back, despondent at what they had
seen,--the haughty dignity of the Inca and the strength and discipline of
his army.
That night there were gloomy forebodings throughout the camp, which were
increased as its occupants saw the watch-fires of the Peruvian army,
glittering on the hill-sides, as one said, "as thick as the stars in
heaven." Scarcely a man among them except Pizarro retained his courage;
but he went round among his men, bidding them to keep up their spirits,
and saying that Providence would not desert them if they trusted to their
strength and their cause, as Christians against pagans. They were in
Heaven's service and God would aid them.
He then called a council of his officers and unfolded to them a desperate
plan he had conceived. This was no less than to lay an ambuscade for the
Inca and seize him in the face of his army, holding him as a hostage for
the safety of the Christians. Nothing less decisive than this would avail
them, he said. It was too late to retreat. At the first sign of such a
movement the army of the Inca would be upon them, and they would all be
destroyed, either there or in the intricacies of the mountain-passes. Nor
could they remain inactive where they were. The Inca was crafty and
hostile, and would soon surround them with a net-work of peril, from which
they could not escape. To fight him in the open field was hazardous, if
not hopeless. The only thing to do was to take him by surprise on his
visit the next day, drive back his followers with death and terror, seize
the monarch, and hold him prisoner. With the Inca in their hands his
followers would not dare attack them, and they would be practically
masters of the empire.
No doubt Pizarro in this plan had in mind that which Cortez had pursued in
Mexico. He would take care that Atahualpa should not be killed by his own
people, as Montezuma had been, and while the monarch remained alive they
would have the strongest guarantee of safety. This bold plan suited the
daring character of Pizarro's officers. They agreed with him that in
boldness lay their only hope of success or even of life, and they left the
council with renewed confidence to prepare for the desperate enterprise.
It was noon the next day before the Inca appeared, his litter borne on the
shoulders of his chief nobles and surrounded by others, so glittering with
ornaments that, to quote from one of the Spaniards, "they blazed like the
sun." A large number of workmen in front swept every particle of rubbish
from the road. Behind, and through the fields that lined the road, marched
a great body of armed men. But when within half a mile of the city the
procession halted, and a messenger was sent to the Spaniards to say that
the Inca would encamp there for that night and enter the city the
following morning.
These tidings filled Pizarro with dismay. His men had been under arms
since daybreak, the cavalry mounted, and the infantry and artillerymen at
their posts. He feared the effect on their spirits of a long and trying
suspense in such a critical situation, and sent word back to the Inca
begging him to come on, as he had everything ready for his entertainment
and expected to sup with him that night. This message turned the monarch
from his purpose, and he resumed his march, though the bulk of his army
was left behind, only a group of unarmed men accompanying him. He
evidently had no fear or suspicion of the Spaniards. Little did he know
them.
It was near the hour of sunset when the procession reached the city,
several thousand Indians marching into the great square, borne high above
whom was the Inca, seated in an open litter on a kind of throne made of
massive gold, while a collar of emeralds of great size and beauty
encircled his neck and his attire was rich and splendid. He looked around
him with surprise, as there was not a Spaniard to be seen, and asked, in
tones of annoyance, "Where are the strangers?"
At this moment Pizarro' s chaplain, a Dominican friar, came forward, with
Bible and crucifix in hand, and began to expound to him the Christian
doctrines, ending by asking him to acknowledge himself a vassal of the
king of Spain. The Inca, when by aid of the interpreter he had gained a
glimpse of the priest's meaning, answered him with high indignation, and
when the friar handed him the Bible as the authority for his words, he
flung it angrily to the earth, exclaiming,--
"Tell your comrades that they shall give me an account of their doings in
my land. I will not go from here till they have made me full satisfaction
for all the wrongs they have committed."
Picking up the sacred volume, the friar hastened to Pizarro, told him what
had been said, and cried out,--
"Do you not see that while we stand here wasting our breath in talking
with this dog, full of pride as he is, the fields are filling with
Indians? Set on, at once; I absolve you."
Pizarro waved a white scarf in the air, the signal agreed upon. A gun was
fired from the fortress. Then, with the Spanish war-cry of "St. Jago and
at them!" Pizarro and his followers sprang out into the square. From every
avenue of the great building they occupied poured armed men, horse and
foot, and rushed in warlike fury upon the Indians. Taken utterly by
surprise, the latter were hurled back in confusion. Their ranks rent by
the balls from cannon and musketry, hundreds of them trampled under foot
by the fierce charges of the cavalry, pierced by lances or cut down by
swords, they were driven resistlessly back, falling in multitudes as they
wildly sought to escape.
The massacre went on with especial intensity around the Inca, his nobles,
none of them armed, struggling with what strength they could in his
defence. "Let no one who values his life strike at the Inca!" shouted
Pizarro, fearing his valued prize might be slain in the wild tumult.
Fiercer still grew the struggle around him. The royal litter swayed back
and forth, and, as some of its bearers were slain, it was overturned, the
monarch being saved from a fall to the ground by Pizarro and some others,
who caught him in their arms. With all haste they bore him into the
fortress and put him under close guard.
With the capture of the Inca all resistance was at an end. The unarmed
Peruvians fled in terror from the fearful massacre. The soldiers in the
fields were seized with panic on hearing the fatal news, and dispersed in
all directions, pursued by the Spanish cavalry, who cut them down without
mercy. Not till night had fallen did Pizarro's men cease the pursuit and
return at the call of the trumpet to the bloody square of Caxamalca. In
that frightful massacre not less than two thousand victims, perhaps many
more, were slain, the most of them unarmed and helpless. That night
Pizarro kept his word, that he would sup with Atahualpa, but it was a
supper at which he might well have drunk blood. The banquet was served in
one of the halls facing the great square, then thickly paved with the
dead, the monarch, stunned by the calamity, sitting beside his captor at
the dread meal.
Let us now go forward to a still more spectacular scene in that strange
drama, one which proved that the Spaniards had truly at length reached the
"land of gold." The Inca was not long a prisoner before he discovered the
besetting passion of the Spaniards, their thirst for gold. A party was
sent to pillage his pleasure-house, and brought back a rich booty in gold
and silver, whose weight and value filled the conquerors with delight.
Thinking that he saw in this a hope of escaping from his captivity, the
Inca one day said to Pizarro that if he would agree to set him free, he
would cover the floor of the room in which they stood with gold. Pizarro
listened with a smile of doubt. As he made no answer, the Inca said,
earnestly, that "he would not merely cover the floor, but would fill the
room with gold as high as he could reach," and he stood on tiptoe as he
put his uplifted hand against the wall. This extraordinary offer filled
Pizarro with intense astonishment. That such a thing could be done seemed
utterly incredible, despite all they had learned of the riches of Peru.
The avaricious conqueror, dazzled by the munificent offer, hastened to
accept it, drawing a red line along the wall at the height the Inca had
touched. How remarkable the ransom was may be judged from the fact that
the room was about seventeen feet wide and twenty-two feet long and the
mark on the wall nine feet high. To add to its value, the Inca offered to
fill an adjoining but smaller room twice full with silver, and to do all
this in the short time of two months. It would seem that he would need
Aladdin's wonderful lamp to accomplish so vast and surprising a task.
As soon as the offer was made and accepted, the Inca sent messengers to
Cuzco, his capital city, and to the other principal places in his kingdom,
with orders to bring all the gold ornaments and utensils from his palaces
and from the temples and other public buildings, and transport them in all
haste to Caxamalca. While awaiting the golden spoil the monarch was
treated with the fullest respect due to his rank, having his own private
apartments and the society of his wives, while his nobles were permitted
to visit him freely. The only thing the Spaniards took good care of was
that he should be kept under close guard.
He took one advantage of his measure of liberty. His brother and rival,
Huascar, though a captive, might escape and seize the control of the
state, and he learned that the prisoner had sent a private message to
Pizarro, offering to pay for his liberty a much larger ransom than that
promised by Atahualpa. The Inca was crafty and cruel enough to remove this
danger from his path, if we may accept the evidence of his captors. At any
rate the royal captive was soon after drowned, declaring with his dying
breath that his rival would not long survive him, but that the white men
would avenge his murder. Atahualpa told Pizarro, with a show of great
sorrow and indignation, of his brother's death, and when the Spaniard
threatened to hold him responsible for it, the Inca protested that it had
been done without his knowledge or consent by Huascar's keepers, who
feared that their captive might escape. However it occurred, Pizarro soon
afterward learned that the news was true. It may be that he was well
satisfied with the fact, as it removed a leading claimant for the throne
from his path.
Meanwhile, the ransom began to come in--slowly, for the distances were
great, and the treasure had to be transported on foot by carriers. Most of
it consisted of massive pieces of gold and silver plate, some of them
weighing from fifty to seventy-five pounds. The Spaniards beheld with
gleaming eyes the shining heaps of treasure, brought in on the shoulders
of Indian porters, and carefully stored away under guard. On some days
articles to the value of half a million dollars are said to have been
brought in.
Yet the vast weight in gold which was thus brought before them did not
satisfy the avaricious impatience of the Spaniards. They made no allowance
for distance and difficulty, and began to suspect the Inca of delaying the
ransom until he could prepare a rising of his subjects against the
strangers. When Atahualpa heard of these suspicions he was filled with
surprise and indignation. "Not a man of my subjects would dare raise a
finger without my orders," he said to Pizarro. "Is not my life at your
disposal? What better security would you have of my good faith?" He ended
by advising him to send some of his own men to Cuzco, where they could see
for themselves how his orders were being obeyed. He would give them a
safe-conduct, and they could superintend the work themselves.
The three envoys sent were carried the whole distance of more than six
hundred miles in litters by relays of carriers, their route laying along
the great military road of Peru and through many populous towns. Cuzco
they found to be a large and splendid city. The great temple of the Sun
was covered with plates of gold, which, by the Inca's orders, were being
torn off. There were seven hundred of these plates in all, and a cornice
of pure gold ran round the building. But this was so deeply set in the
stone that it could not be removed. On their return, these messengers
brought with them full two hundred loads of gold, besides great quantities
of silver.
Gradually the vast ransom offered by the Inca, far surpassing any paid by
any other captive in the world's history, was gathered in. The gold
received came in a great variety of shapes, being wrought into goblets,
ewers, salvers, vases, and other forms for ornament or use, utensils for
temple or palace, tiles and plate used to decorate the public edifices,
and curious imitations of plants and animals. The most beautiful and
artistic of these was the representation of Indian corn, the ear of gold
being sheathed in broad leaves of silver, while the rich tassels were made
of the same precious metal. Equally admired was a fountain which sent up a
sparkling jet of gold, with birds and animals of the same metal playing in
the waters at its base. Some of these objects were so beautifully wrought
as to compare favorably with the work of skilled European artists.
The treasure gathered was measured in the room in its original form, this
being the compact, but even in this loose form the gold amounted to a sum
equal, in modern money, to over fifteen millions of dollars, with a large
value in silver in addition. All this was melted down into ingots and
divided among the conquerors, with the exception of the royal fifth,
reserved for the King of Spain. The latter included many of the most
curious works of art. The share of Pizarro probably amounted to not less
than a million dollars, and even the common soldiers received what was
wealth to them.
The ransom paid, what was the benefit to the Inca? Was he given his
liberty, in accordance with the compact? Yes, the liberty which such men
as Francisco Pizarro give to those whom they have injured and have reason
to fear. The total ransom offered by Atahualpa had not been brought in,
but the impatient Spaniards had divided the spoil without waiting for the
whole, and the Inca demanded his freedom. De Soto, who was his chief
friend among the Spaniards, told Pizarro of his demand, but could get from
him no direct reply. His treacherous mind was brooding deeply over some
dark project.
Soon rumors became current among the soldiers of a design of revolt
entertained by the natives. These spread and grew until an immense army
was conjured up. The Inca was looked upon as the instigator of the
supposed rising, and was charged with it by Pizarro. His denial of it had
little effect, and the fortress was put in a state of defence, while many
of the soldiers began to demand the life of the Inca. To those demands
Pizarro did not turn a deaf ear. Possibly they arose at his own
instigation.
CALLAO.]
DEATH OF ATAHUALPA, FROM A PAINTING IN THE CATHEDRAL AT CALLAO.
Hernando Pizarro, who had shown himself a strong friend of the captive,
was absent. De Soto, another of his friends, was sent at the head of an
expedition to Huamachuco, a town a hundred miles away, where it was said
the natives were in arms. Scarcely had he gone when Pizarro, seeming to
yield to the demands of the soldiers, decided to bring Atahualpa to trial
on the charges against him.
A court was held, with Pizarro and his fellow-captain Almagro as the
judges, an attorney-general being appointed for the crown and counsel for
the prisoner. The crimes charged against the Inca were chiefly of a kind
with which the Spaniards had nothing to do, among them the assassination
of Huascar and the guilt of idolatry. These were simply to bolster up the
only real charge, that of exciting an insurrection against the Spaniards.
The whole affair was the merest show of a trial, and was hurried through
without waiting for the return of De Soto, who could have given useful
evidence about the insurrection. The culprit was adjudged guilty, and
sentenced to be burnt alive that very night in the great square of
Caxamalca!
It was a sentence that might well have been expected as the termination of
such a trial by such men. Pizarro, in fact, did not dare to set his
captive at liberty, if he proposed to remain in the country, and the cruel
sentence, which was common enough at that day, was carried out except in
one particular. As the poor Inca stood bound to the stake, with the fagots
of his funeral pile heaped around him, Valverde, the Dominican friar, made
a last appeal to him to accept the cross and be baptized, promising him a
less painful death if he would consent. The Inca, shrinking from the
horror of the flames, consented, and was duly baptized under the name of
Juan de Atahualpa. He was then put to death in the Spanish manner, by the
garrote, or strangulation.
Thus died the Inca of Peru, the victim of Pizarro's treachery. Great was
the indignation of De Soto, on his return a day or two later from an
expedition in which he had found no rebels, at what had been done. Pizarro
tried to exculpate himself and blame others for deceiving him, but these
told him to his face that he alone was responsible for the deed. In all
probability they told the truth.