It didn’t take Sherlock Holmes to see that the material he had asked me to submit by June 1st would arrive too late to be included in the $250 book. Savoy had gotten all he needed from me back in November, when I had foolishly left my drawings behind. Galvanized into action, I went back to my word processor, double-time. By the end of March, the manuscript was finished and I decided to publish it myself, desktop style, as Sixpac Manco: Travels Among the Incas. I was careful to include all the maps and drawings we left with Savoy and I registered the copyright with the Library of Congress. With a certain poetic justice, I sent a copy of the finished product to Savoy on April Fool’s day, 1985, with a letter suggesting he let me know if he wanted to use any of its contents in his new book…. My only comment [at the end was]: “You’ve told me from the start that I should ‘trust no one’—and I guess you really meant no one.”
Savoy never responded—nor was his book on his “new discoveries” in the Vilcabamba area ever published.
Both Gene Savoy and Vincent Lee ultimately helped to gather the evidence that proved for the first time and beyond a shadow of a doubt that the final capital of the Incas—Vilcabamba—had indeed been rediscovered after having been lost to the rest of the world for centuries. Hiram Bingham—despite a lifetime of insisting that Machu Picchu was in fact ancient Vilcabamba—had clearly been wrong. Now that the location of the real Vilcabamba had been discovered, however, the original question inevitably turned itself on its head: for if Machu Picchu was not Vilcabamba, then what on earth was Machu Picchu?
EPILOGUE: MACHU PICCHU, VILCABAMBA, AND THE SEARCH FOR THE LOST CITIES OF THE ANDES
“If you take a map of the Vilcabamba area and put a map pin at every major imperial Inca site, then you can see that there’s a big hole in the pattern, right along the Apurímac River, downstream from Choqquequirau. There are two Inca roads that lead into that area—and the Incas wouldn’t have built them unless they led somewhere. There could be another stone city in there, but who knows? I guess that’s one of the reasons why we all keep coming back.”
VINCENT LEE, 2005
TO UNDERSTAND HOW VILCABAMBA AND MACHU PICCHU were once intertwined, one has to go back to the decades in which both were constructed: presumably in the mid-fifteenth century.* In the early part of that century, the ethnic group known as the Incas lived within a small kingdom centered around the valley of Cuzco, one of many such small kingdoms in the Andes and on the coast. The Incas told the Spaniards that they were led by an old Inca king named Viracocha Inca. Faced with an approaching army from the powerful kingdom of the Chancas, the Inca ruler fled, leaving his adult son, Cusi Yupanqui, behind. The latter quickly took charge, raised an army, and somehow miraculously defeated the invaders. Cusi Yupanqui then deposed his father, arranged for his own coronation, and changed his name to Pachacuti, a Quechua word that means “earth-shaker” or “cataclysm,” or “he who turns the world upside down.” The name was a prescient one, for Pachacuti would soon revolutionize the entire Andean world.
According to Inca oral history, Pachacuti also had had a profound religious experience when he was young, a sort of epiphany that revealed to him both his divine nature and a vision of a nearly unbounded future. Wrote the Jesuit priest Bernabé Cobo:
It is said of this Inca [Pachacuti], that before he became king, he went once to visit his father Viracocha, who was … five leagues from Cuzco, and as he reached a spring called Susurpuquiu, he saw a crystal tablet fall into it; within this tablet there appeared to him the figure of an Indian dressed in this way: around his head he had a llauto like the headdress of the Incas; three brightly shining rays, like those of the sun, sprang from the top of his head; some snakes were coiled around his arms at the shoulder joints and there was a kind of snake that stretched from the top to the bottom of his back. Upon seeing this image, Pachacuti became so terrified that he started to flee, but the image spoke to him from inside the spring, saying to him: “Come here, my child; have no fear, for I am your father the Sun; I know that you will subjugate many nations and take great care to honor me and remember me in your sacrifices”; and, having said these words, the vision disappeared, but the crystal tablet remained in the spring. The Inca took the tablet and kept it; it is said that after this it served him as a mirror in which he saw anything he wanted, and in memory of his vision, when he was king, he had a statue made of the Sun, which was none other than the image he had seen in the crystal, and he built a temple of the Sun called Qoricancha, with the magnificence and richness that it had at the time when the Spaniards came, because before it was a small and humble structure. Moreover, he ordered that solemn temples dedicated to the Sun be built throughout all the lands that he subjugated under his empire, and he endowed them with great incomes, ordering that all his subjects worship and revere the Sun.
Soon after becoming king, Pachacuti wasted no time in remaking the world according to his unique vision, beginning with the city of Cuzco. There, he undertook a major rebuilding campaign, reorganizing the layout of the capital, tearing down old buildings, creating new boulevards, and ordering a host of palaces and temples to be built. All of these were constructed in a new style of stonework that Pachacuti preferred—later referred to as the imperial style—stones cut and fitted together so perfectly that the skill and artistry displayed would eventually become famous as one of the wonders of the New World.
Not satisfied with defeating the Chancas, however, the ambitious young king soon led his army into the nearby Yucay (Vilcanota) Valley, conquering two ethnic groups, the Cuyos and the Tambos. To celebrate these victories, Pachacuti ordered the construction of a royal estate, called Pisac, in the center of the Cuyos’ territory; he then ordered that a second royal estate to be built among the conquered Tambos, at a site called Ollantaytambo. The twin estates were unusual, however, in that they were destined to be privately owned by the conqueror himself. It was a model that would soon be copied by succeeding Inca emperors and also by a small number of high-ranking Inca elites. Theirs would be the only privately held lands within the rapidly expanding Inca Empire.
Pachacuti created his new estates with a number of specific purposes in mind, perhaps the most important of which was to support his own family lineage. Each new Inca emperor was supposed to found his own panaca, or descent lineage, in essence becoming the patriarch and founder of a new family line. The crops and animal herds raised on Pachacuti’s private estates were thus slated to be used to support the members of his royal panaca. After his death, the estates would continue to be used and maintained by his descendants.
A second purpose for building the royal estates was to commemorate Pachacuti’s recent conquests: when complete, they would serve as monuments that would reflect the new emperor’s boldness, initiative, and power. Finally, the estates were also meant to serve as secluded royal retreats—luxury resorts located well away from the capital where the emperor and a select group of relatives and elites could rest, relax, and commune with the local mountain gods.
As with the new palaces and buildings he had ordered built in Cuzco, Pachacuti was first presumably shown models of his proposed estates in clay, complete with the projected buildings, agricultural terraces, and temples. Once Pachacuti had approved the designs, a legion of the kingdom’s finest architects, engineers, stonecutters, and masons went to work. Pachacuti, meanwhile—in his role as commander in chief—continued to expand the Incas’ realm, this time pushing northward into the Vilcabamba Valley. Wrote Father Cobo:
He [Pachacuti] began his conquests with the provinces of Vitcos and Vilcabamba, a very difficult land to subjugate because it is so rough and covered with dense jungle…. The Inca [emperor] left Cuzco with the bravest and most carefully chosen men he had; he passed through the Valley of Yucay [Vilcanota] and continued down the river to [Ollantay]Tambo; he came to the Valley of Ambaybamba, and there he got word that it would be impossible to continue ahead, since there was no bridge across the [Urubamba] river; his adversaries had removed the [hanging
] bridge of Chuquichaca…. But the power of the Inca [Pachacuti] was so great that not only did he make that bridge in the place where it was before but he made many others in places where the river was narrow, and those of Vilcabamba were so astonished and fearful that they confessed that only the power of the Sun’s offspring could accomplish those great deeds. Upon finishing the bridges, the Inca [emperor] ordered his men to proceed in a very orderly fashion, so that the enemy would not be able to harm them, and when he arrived at Cocospata, about twenty-five leagues [eighty-seven miles] from Cuzco, ambassadors came to him from the caciques [chiefs] of Vitcos and Vilcabamba…. The caciques, in order to please the Inca [emperor] more and gain his good graces, told him that they wanted to give him a mountain filled with fine silver and some rich gold mines. The Inca [Pachacuti] was very pleased with this offer, so he sent some of his men to see if this was true and [to] bring back some samples of gold and silver. They went quickly, and they found that the wealth of the mine was much greater than what had been described to the Inca [emperor], to whom they brought many loads of gold and silver; this made him exceedingly happy…. [Pachacuti] left Vilcabamba by the same road he had used to come there, and upon arriving in Cuzco, he ordered that this expedition and the discovery of the mines be celebrated with public fiestas which lasted for two months.
To commemorate his conquest of the Vilcabamba Valley, Pachacuti ordered that a third royal estate be built, this one very near the Chuquichaca bridge, on a high ridge overlooking what is now called the Urubamba River. The Incas apparently called the new site Picchu, meaning “peak.” Since the proposed citadel and nearby satellite communities were planned from the start to form part of a luxurious private estate, the entire complex would display some of the finest examples of Inca engineering and art.
The complex of what is now known as the ruins of Machu Picchu, in fact, was carefully planned and designed long before the first white granite block was ever cut and moved into place. The location, first of all, had to be both suitably sacred and spectacular; the site that Pachacuti selected was set high atop a ridge with an almost God-like view over the entire area and of the surrounding apus, or sacred peaks. It was essential that the site also contain a source of clean water—a substance sacred in itself—that could be used for drinking, bathing, and for ritual purposes. Picchu, in fact, possessed just such a crucial characteristic: on the large peak now known as Machu Picchu, and high above the proposed citadel, Inca engineers located a natural spring. They then designed a gravity-fed water system that would eventually carry water down from the peak to the ridgetop site where it would ultimately pass through sixteen descending ritual fountains.
Portions of the ridgetop were now carefully planed and flattened as workers created foundations of gravel, stones, and even subterranean retaining walls. Archaeologists who have excavated at Machu Picchu have reported that some 60 percent of the architectural engineering associated with the ruins actually lies beneath the ruins. Because of the heavy granite architecture and the region’s equally heavy rains, Inca engineers had to be certain that the locations chosen for building had solid foundations capable of withstanding both water and weight. Once the foundation was complete, construction finally began on the citadel itself, with workers cutting stone mainly from a quarry located on the same ridgetop, using a variety of stone and bronze tools. Only once the first stone blocks had been cut did construction begin on the buildings, palaces, and temples of Machu Picchu.
Workers and specialists from around the country now convened on the remote site, all of them supervised by a bevy of architects and engineers. In order to equip the citadel with the latest, state-of-the-art technology, Inca astronomers worked alongside the engineers and stonemasons to fashion observatories that could accurately mark the summer and winter solstices as well as other astronomical events. Workers fulfilling their mit’a labor tax, meanwhile, busied themselves constructing roads to and from the royal estate, linking Machu Picchu with the capital, Cuzco, and with other newly built centers, such as Ollantaytambo, Pisac, and, eventually, Vitcos and Vilcabamba. Additional laborers were also put to work constructing large agricultural terraces in order to help provide food for the citadel’s future inhabitants as well as for ritual sacrifices. Soon, Inca labor and technology had transformed the steep, jungle-covered slopes into a staggered series of flat terraces that eventually produced fourteen acres of sacred corn.
When Machu Picchu was finally ready for use sometime in the 1450s or 1460s, the first ruler of the newly created Inca Empire, Pachacuti, no doubt arrived there on his royal litter, accompanied by royal guests, a large retinue of servants, and at least part of his harem. The citadel’s furnishings, plumbing, food, supplies, servants, and cooks had all been carefully prepared so that the emperor would be able to relax along with his guests. Then, as now, clouds wreathed the surrounding peaks, alternately exposing and obscuring them. Unlike the ruins today, however, the gabled roofs of the buildings were covered with fresh yellow ichu thatch while the stones of the citadel were white and freshly cut and glistened in the sun.
Similar to the recent architecture in Cuzco, much of the stonework here had been cut in the imperial style that Pachacuti preferred; some of the buildings, in fact, were constructed with boulders the size of small cars, each cut, fitted perfectly into place, and weighing up to fourteen tons.* The water from the nearby peak of Machu Picchu, meanwhile, descended into the citadel through a stone-lined aqueduct and arrived first at Pachacuti’s living quarters, thus allowing the emperor to come into contact with only the purest water available. A stone-cut pool in Pachacuti’s dwelling allowed the emperor to bathe in complete privacy while the emperor’s residence also had the only water-flushed lavatory at Machu Picchu.
As Pachacuti bathed himself in his private bath, the voices of his guests would have floated across the plaza outside along with the distant sounds of metalworkers tending their forges and hammering out gold and silver ornaments, utensils, and jewelry. Strings of llama trains constantly arrived, looking from a condor’s perspective like lengths of knotted quipu cords; the food and supplies they carried up from the jungle and down from the Andes was carefully unpacked at a station just outside the citadel. Even at this private retreat, chaski runners appeared periodically with messages for the emperor and other officials, who in turn sent their commands back to Cuzco and to other parts of the empire. Wherever the emperor went, in fact, his royal court followed. Thus, whenever Pachacuti was in retreat at Machu Picchu, this lofty, isolated citadel temporarily became the power center and locus of the entire Inca world.
Unlike the ruins of Machu Picchu today—which are owned by the Peruvian state and are open to the public, and where tour buses disgorge hundreds of thousands of visitors each year—Machu Picchu in the time of Pachacuti was an exclusive and private affair. The roads here—like the roads elsewhere in the empire—were open only to those individuals traveling on state business. Other than Pachacuti’s immediate family, the workers who kept the citadel functioning, and the invited elites who traveled here on canopied litters, often decorated with precious metals and iridescent bird feathers, Machu Picchu was unknown to the rest of the empire’s inhabitants. Machu Picchu, quite simply, was Pachacuti’s Camp David—a royal resort built by a man who had almost single-handedly transformed a small native kingdom into the largest empire the New World has ever known.
The citadel of Machu Picchu was thus the third and perhaps most important jewel in the crown of architectural monuments that Pachacuti had created, after Pisac and Ollantaytambo. Balmy and warm, the site was no doubt a welcome respite from the often freezing winter weather of the Inca capital and from the high Andes in general. Even after Pachacuti’s death and long after the emperor had been ritually embalmed and mummified, Pachacuti’s servants no doubt continued bringing their divine emperor to visit Machu Picchu and to visit the other estates he had carved out of the Andes, his sightless eyes seeming to gaze off into the distance as the members of his royal panaca co
ntinued to enjoy the fruits of their founder’s unparalleled conquests and labors.
Since Machu Picchu was Pachacuti’s private royal estate, the question remains, however, how it was related to Manco Inca’s rebel capital of Vilcabamba. Once again, the answer lies partially within the Incas’ oral histories. According to interviews the Spaniards conducted among the Incas in the sixteenth century, Pachacuti is said to have halted his advance after conquering the Vilcabamba Valley. His son, Tupac Inca, however, apparently then extended Inca control down into the Pampaconas Valley and eventually to the area of the future town of Vilcabamba itself.
After Pachacuti’s military conquest, the Vilcabamba Valley underwent a set pattern of development that the Incas soon replicated throughout their empire. First, engineers and quipucamayocs (accountants) were sent in to assess and catalogue the resources of the new territory. The task of the quipucamayocs was to conduct a census of the local population and to enter data onto their knotted string cords about the province’s arable lands, native crops, sources of metals (copper, tin, gold, and silver), and other resources. Inca engineers then created clay models of the new area, complete with the location of native settlements, which were taken to Cuzco in order to show to the emperor. Thus informed, Pachacuti and his advisers next decided on how to reorganize the population, where Inca roads should be constructed, and where royal mines and new communities should be established.
Once the overall development plan had been approved, Inca administrators sent mit’a laborers to the new province, to build or improve roads into the area and to line the roads with typical Inca tambos and storehouses; they then stocked the latter with supplies for the government officials, workers, and for the mitmaqcuna colonists who would soon be permanently moved into the area. Chaski posts, too, were set up, so that the new province could be connected to the empire’s communication system of relay runners. If canals, bridges, agricultural terracing, or towns were needed, Inca administrators then brought in the corresponding architects, stonemasons, and engineers.
The Last Days of the Incas Page 51