The Last Days of the Incas

by KIM MACQUARRIE

  What have I done to you? Why do you treat me in this manner and tie me up like a dog? Is this how you repay me for what I have done for you and for helping you get established in my land? … And you are who they say are viracochas sent by [the creator god] Tecsi Viracochan? It’s impossible that you’re His sons since you treat those who have done you so much good so badly…. Wasn’t a great quantity of gold and silver sent to you in Cajamarca? Didn’t you take from my brother Atahualpa all the treasure that my ancestors and I had there? Haven’t I given you everything in this town that you wanted? … Haven’t I helped you and your children and ordered my entire realm to pay you tribute? What more do you want me to do? Judge for yourselves and see if I haven’t the right to complain…. I tell you that you are truly devils and not viracochas since for no reason at all you treat me this way.

  The Spaniards, however, ignored Manco’s complaints. Instead, they kept him in chains, certain that if Manco were freed that he would immediately try to stir the country into revolt against their rule. They told him:

  “Look, [Manco] Inca, making excuses now is not going to help you … We know without a doubt that you want to make this country rise up. … They’ve told us that you want to kill us and for this reason we’ve imprisoned you. If it’s not true that you want to rebel, then you can stop complaining and give us some gold and silver, which is what we came here to find. Give it to us and we’ll set you free.”

  In the end, Manco no doubt realized, it didn’t matter. No matter how much gold and silver he gave them, the Spaniards always wanted more. And whether he gave them treasure or not, or wives or not, or whatever they wanted or not—their treatment of him continued to worsen with each passing day. If Manco previously had had any illusions about his captors, they had by now completely disappeared. Manco undoubtedly saw the Spaniards for what they really were—false viracochas, foreigners whose only intent was to sack and plunder the empire that his very own family had created.

  “They took and stole everything he [Manco] had, so that he had nothing,” wrote the young Spanish priest Cristóbal de Molina. “And they kept him imprisoned this time for many days, guarding him day and night. They treated him very insultingly, urinating on him and sleeping with his wives. [And] he was very despondent over this.”

  While Manco was being humiliated and abused as a prisoner, the various Inca lords he had assembled for his clandestine meeting had nevertheless mostly escaped from Cuzco the night of his capture. Almost immediately, they had begun fanning out into the countryside to spread Manco’s orders to begin preparing for a rebellion. In the Inca system of government, each provincial governor directed the local chiefs (curacas) below him, who in turn commanded households of commoners that numbered anywhere from a few hundred to ten thousand. As long as the Incas’ chain of command continued to function—from emperor to governor to curaca to commoner—then Manco still wielded substantial control over the population. Like a massive piece of machinery that had not moved for years, the network of social gears that made up the Inca Empire now slowly began to creak into motion. And now, despite the confusion of recent events, many of the provinces began to respond to their emperor’s simple yet weighty command: Prepare yourselves—the time has come to wage war against the invaders.

  One of the more important men who had escaped the night of Manco’s capture was General Tiso, Manco’s uncle and the most formidable survivor of his grandfather Huayna Capac’s generals. General Tiso had immediately traveled to the mountainous region of Jauja, lying some two hundred miles to the north, the same area where General Quisquis had fought Spanish troops before retreating to Ecuador. There, in the area of Tarma and Bombóm, Tiso began to organize a rebellion. Various chiefs who had attended Manco’s meeting from the Collao, meanwhile, also returned to their provinces and similarly began fomenting revolt. The Inca leaders knew from experience by now that it was difficult to kill Spaniards who were well armed and who fought in large formations. It would be much easier to kill them if they attacked the Spaniards when they were isolated and alone and especially when the Spaniards traveled to their encomiendas in order to supervise the collection of their tributes.

  Sometime in November or December of 1535, on isolated encomiendas in the southern Collao region, local natives overpowered and killed two encomenderos—Martín Domínguez and Pedro Martín de Moguer. The latter was an illiterate former sailor who had been present at the capture of Atahualpa in Cajamarca. He had also been one of the first three Europeans to enter Cuzco, having been sent there by Pizarro in order to help supervise the collection of Atahualpa’s ransom. Moguer had later shared in the division of treasure of Cuzco and had been one of the eighty-eight conquistadors who had elected to stay on in that city, receiving an encomienda in the province of Collao. Three years after arriving in Peru and apparently unaware of the political sea change that was occurring in the countryside, the now wealthy encomendero had traveled out to inspect his holdings. There, natives more than likely cracked his head open with mace clubs tipped with bronze or stone. Moguer’s New World journey—which included the undoubtedly fabulous voyage on a royal litter from Cajamarca to Cuzco—had come to an abrupt and bone-cracking end.

  Following Moguer’s and Domínguez’s assassinations in the Collao, natives soon began killing other Spaniards in the same manner, waiting until the encomenderos were away from towns and cities and then ambushing them while they were traveling alone. In the region to the southwest of Cuzco known as the Cuntisuyu, an area studded with massive peaks of permanently frozen snow, local natives soon surprised and killed the conquistador Juan Becerril. The latter hadn’t shared in the slaughter and spoils of Cajamarca but was still fabulously wealthy from his share of the gold and silver in Cuzco. Not long afterward, a provincial curaca informed the Spaniard Simón Suárez that the natives on his encomienda had collected his “tribute” and that Suárez should go there and pick it up from them. Suárez did—and was ambushed and killed.

  In a relatively short period of time, in isolated regions from central to southern Peru, groups of rebellious natives continued implementing their strategy of waiting for or luring unsuspecting Spaniards away from the safety of the cities, then ambushing and killing them. Within a few months of Manco’s first secret meeting, in fact, native rebels had killed more than thirty Spaniards—more than had been lost during the entire three years of the conquest.

  In January 1536, while the two youngest Pizarro brothers were off trying to extinguish the now numerous sparks of native rebellion, thirty-four-year-old Hernando Pizarro arrived in Cuzco after an absence of more than two years. The second eldest of the Pizarro brothers, Hernando had accompanied the first consignment of the king’s treasure from Cajamarca back to Spain. Tall, thickly bearded, heavily built, exceedingly selfish, and obsessed by power, Hernando had taken much of the family’s share of Atahualpa’s treasure and had gone on an investor’s spree, purchasing royal treasury bonds, a variety of interest-bearing annuities, and a considerable amount of real estate in the form of land, buildings, and houses—especially in and around the Pizarros’ hometown of Trujillo.

  Visiting the royal court in Valladolid, Hernando had then conducted a deft negotiation with the king. As a result, King Charles had subsequently granted the Pizarros the right to transport two hundred tariff-free black slaves to work in Peru’s mines, the right to import four white female slaves, the right to receive personal exemptions from taxation on goods imported into Peru, and the right for Francisco Pizarro to appoint three lifetime members to every town council in Peru, thus ensuring the Pizarro family’s continued political control there. Hernando, not shy about advancing his own interests, also petitioned for and was ultimately anointed a Knight of the Order of Santiago. In addition, he attempted to prevent the king from granting a governorship to his brother’s ex-partner, Diego de Almagro. In that, however, Hernando was unsuccessful.

  The negotiations between Hernando and the king were a clear exercise in mutual reciprocity. The king want
ed to guarantee himself a percentage of the profits he had been assured would continue streaming out of Peru. The Pizarros, meanwhile, craved social advancement and a guarantee that they would continue to control the exploitation of the vast empire they had just conquered. King Charles was only too happy to establish a legal framework that benefited both the Pizarros and the crown.

  Once back in Peru, Hernando headed directly from the coast toward Cuzco. Hernando had never seen the Inca capital, since when he had left Peru two years earlier he had departed directly from Cajamarca to Spain; he had thus not participated in the subsequent military capture of the city. While having vastly improved his own situation and that of his elder brother in terms of overall political control, Hernando learned that he had missed out on the division of gold and silver in Cuzco, which had been every bit as profitable as that of Cajamarca. Hernando had also missed out on the distribution of encomiendas although, being the brother of the governor, he could be certain that he would eventually receive one. In the meantime, however, Hernando was determined to make up for his lost time in Peru, which basically meant amassing as much gold and silver as he could.

  One of the first things Hernando did after arriving in Cuzco, therefore, was to visit Manco Inca, the ruler his brothers had imprisoned and had shackled in chains. Hernando immediately ordered that Manco be released, then apologized to the emperor for his mistreatment. Soon afterward, Hernando began inviting the young emperor to dine with him on a regular basis and doing everything possible to ingratiate himself with a ruler whom he was certain must know the location of more Inca treasure.

  Although Hernando’s friendly treatment of Manco was undoubtedly in large part motivated by his own personal greed, Hernando was nevertheless also complying with the king’s wishes. King Charles had made it clear to him that Manco Inca was to be treated as a sovereign emperor, especially after the king had learned of Manco’s recent help in pacifying the country. What the king desired more than anything else was that the conquest of Peru be quickly consolidated and that the country be stabilized; the efficient extraction of wealth from the new colony and its transmission to Spain could only occur under stable political conditions. If the new Inca emperor helped him to obtain that goal, then the king wanted that emperor to be amply rewarded. The king’s orders, of course, were in direct contrast to the treatment Manco had already received at the hands of the younger Pizarro brothers and the rest of the Spaniards in Cuzco.

  Not long after Hernando’s arrival, Juan and Gonzalo arrived back in the city and greeted their elder brother effusively. They then reported to him the various disturbing signs of uprisings that had been cropping up in the countryside, the number of Spaniards who had been killed, and their efforts to punish those responsible. When they learned that Hernando had freed Manco Inca, however, they immediately became upset. Why had Hernando released a native emperor who had preached rebellion? An emperor who might any day escape from the city and lead a revolt?

  Hernando brushed off his brothers’ concerns. Manco had assured him that he would carry out no insurrection, Hernando explained; the Inca emperor had also sworn his loyalty and friendship to the Pizarros and had promised him even more silver and gold. Hernando saw no reason to distrust him.

  The reality, of course, was otherwise. Ever since Hernando had set him free, Manco had been secretly receiving information about the progress that had been made for the eventual rebellion. While sporadic uprisings had occurred in the meantime, Manco still planned to raise a vast army and to coordinate it with a massive native rebellion. Even while Manco had been imprisoned, in fact, his high priest, Villac Umu, had been carrying out the mobilization of Inca troops in the provinces. Now that Manco was free, he and Villac Umu continued planning the rebellion while somehow keeping the entire mobilization process hidden from the eyes of the Spaniards. With native spies bringing Manco the news that Francisco Pizarro was preoccupied with supervising the construction of a new city on the coast, and with the knowledge that Diego de Almagro and his troops were far away to the south, Manco was now simply waiting for the cessation of the Andean rainy season before beginning a full-scale insurrection.

  In the Inca language runasimi, February was known as hatun pucuy, or the “great ripening,” as in this month the corn normally begins to ripen. March was known as paca pucuy, or “earth ripening,” the time in which to sow new corn seed, and April was known as ayrihua—the month in which fifteen lla-mas were always sacrificed in honor of the first llama to appear on earth. As hatun pucuy turned to paca pucuy and paca pucuy turned to ayrihua, the sun crept daily northward and slowly the Andean rains began to end. Carefully keeping track of the sun deity’s progress, Manco Inca often dined with Hernando Pizarro, all the while feigning his gratitude and friendship. By early April, however, even as the two men ate, masses of native warriors had begun filtering through mountain passes from all directions, heading toward the Inca capital. As Manco and Hernando toasted each other, native soldiers in high altiplano valleys stealthily gathered clubs, slings, dart throwers, shields, and even bows and arrows from the numerous state storehouses placed strategically throughout the empire. At times, whole valleys seemed to move as if their floors were covered with a vast carpet of ants, so numerous were the natives who were now answering the call of their Inca lord.

  As the warriors drew nearer to the capital, the time had finally come for Manco to escape. Word would soon get out that native armies were approaching. It was thus time for Manco to take full and open control of the growing insurgency. Having already given Hernando Pizarro hidden caches of gold and silver, Manco now asked Hernando for a favor in return: could he and Villac Umu travel to the nearby Yucay Valley, about fifteen miles to the north? He and his high priest wanted to perform some important religious ceremonies there for his father, Huayna Capac, Manco explained, whose mummy was located in the nearby hills. If Hernando would allow him to go, then he promised that he would bring him back a life-sized gold and silver statue that belonged to his father. Hernando—ever eager to acquire more treasure—told Manco that, by all means, the two of them could go.

  On April 18, 1536, the twenty-year-old lord of the Inca Empire and his high priest left Cuzco and headed for the Yucay Valley, carried aloft on royal litters. Not long after they had departed, some of the yanaconas—the Incas’ landless proletariat—along with Juan and Gonzalo Pizarro and even some of Manco’s own estranged kin, formed a delegation that visited Hernando Pizarro in his palace. Hernando had made a huge mistake, they informed him. The lieutenant governor must immediately send a force to recapture the Inca emperor. If not, then Manco Inca would return all right—but at the head of a large and hostile army. Hernando—the only Pizarro brother with formal military training, who had fought as a captain with his father in the Spanish-French wars of Navarre–dismissed their concerns. Manco would return, Hernando said confidently, just as Manco had promised he would. Scanning the group’s anxious faces and shaking his head in derision, Hernando told them that they were all simply afraid of their own shadows. They should go home and stop worrying—Manco Inca would keep his word.

  Two days later, a Spaniard arrived in Cuzco who had been surprised to meet Manco and Villac Umu heading into the hills above the Calca Valley and traveling in the direction of Lares, located some fifteen leagues, or fifty miles, from Cuzco. When the Spaniard had asked the emperor where they were going, Manco had replied that they were off to retrieve some gold. To Hernando, the information made perfect sense: Manco had promised that he would bring back a life-sized statue made of silver and gold. Once again, Hernando told his two brothers and the rest of Cuzco’s citizenry to stop worrying. When more days went by with still no sign of the departed emperor, however, fears in the city continued to escalate; knots of worried Spaniards now gathered in the streets, often looking over their shoulder in the direction of the hills.

  Finally, on the eve of Easter Sunday, news arrived that Manco Inca had been seen with a large group of native chiefs in the rugged, mou
ntainous region of Lares. The Inca emperor had apparently convened a secret assembly of native chiefs and military leaders from all parts of the empire, the Spaniards were told. Various eyewitnesses, meanwhile, who had been traveling elsewhere in Peru, soon arrived and reported the disturbing sightings of vast numbers of armed warriors, moving from the provinces toward the capital. Manco Inca, it was now obvious to everyone—and that included a chastened Hernando Pizarro—had clearly rebelled. Recounted Pizarro’s cousin Pedro:

  Manco Inca took refuge in the Andes, which is a land of enormous, rugged mountains with very bad passes and where it’s impossible for horses to enter. And from there he sent many high-ranking captains all over the realm, in order to gather up all the natives who could fight and who could go with them to lay siege to Cuzco and to kill all of us Spaniards who were there.

  After a little more than two years on the puppet throne, Manco Inca—son of the great Huayna Capac and great-great-grandson of the founder of the Inca Empire, Pachacuti—had formally declared war against the Spaniards. He was now free to devote himself, openly and without further subterfuge, to the extermination of the bearded foreigners who had arrived so brazenly from across the sea.

  9 THE GREAT REBELLION

  “The Spaniards in Peru should be made to refrain from arrogance and brutality towards the Indians. Just imagine that our people were to arrive in Spain and start confiscating property, sleeping with the women and girls, chastising the men and treating everybody like pigs! What would the Spaniards do then? Even if they tried to endure their lot with resignation, they would still be liable to be arrested, tied to a pillar and flogged. And if they rebelled and attempted to kill their persecutors, they would certainly go to their death on the gallows.”