Ferdinand De Soto, The Discoverer of the Mississippi

The next morning these Spaniards, so zealous for the propagation of the Christian faith, unmindful of their professed Christian mission, betook themselves, with all alacrity, to the work of pillage. The golden throne, and the royal wardrobe, were of very great value. The nobles were clad in their richest garments of state, and the ground was strewn with bodies of the dead, glittering in robes of gold and gems. Having stripped the dead, they then entered the houses and temples of Caxamarca and loaded themselves down with golden vases, and other booty of great value. As one suggestive item, which reveals the conduct of these brutal men, the good Las Casas states, that a Spanish soldier seized a young Peruvian girl. When the mother rushed to rescue her child, he cut off her arm with his sword, and then in his rage hewed the maiden to pieces.

Pizarro now assumed the proud title of "The Conqueror of Peru." With the sovereign as his prisoner, and elated by his great victory, he felt that there was no resistance that he had to fear. It seems that Attahuallapa had penetration enough to discern that De Soto was a very different man in character from the Pizarros. He soon became quite cordial and unreserved in his intercourse with him. And there is no evidence that De Soto ever, in the slightest degree, betrayed his confidence. One day the Inca inquired of De Soto for what amount of ransom Pizarro would be willing to release him. De Soto was well aware of the timidity and avarice of the captain. The love of the Peruvians for their sovereign was such, that Pizarro was confident that so long as Attahuallapa was in his power, they would not make war upon him. De Soto felt therefore that there was no prospect that Pizarro would release his captive for any ransom whatever, and sadly advised him to resign all such hope. The Inca was greatly distressed. After a few moments of silence, he said:

"My friend, do not deprive me of the only hope that can make life supportable. I must be free, or I must die. Your commander loves gold above all things. Surely I can purchase my liberty from him at some price, and however unreasonable it may be, I am willing to satisfy his demand. Tell me, I entreat of you, what sum you think will be sufficient?"

For a moment De Soto made no reply. They were sitting in a room, according to the statement of Pizarro's secretary, twenty-two feet long and seventeen feet broad. Then turning to the Inca, and wishing to impress his mind with the conviction that there was not any ransom which could effect his release, he said:

"If you could fill this room with gold as high as I can reach with my sword, Pizarro might perhaps accept it as your ransom."

"It shall be done," the Inca eagerly replied. "And I beg you to let Pizarro know, that within a month from this day, my part of the contract shall be fulfilled."

De Soto was troubled, for he had not intended that as an offer, but rather as a statement of an impossibility. He however felt bound to report the proposition to Pizarro. Much to his surprise the avaricious captain readily accepted it. The contract was drawn up, and Pizarro gave his solemn pledge that upon the delivery of the gold the prison doors of the captive should be thrown open. But after the terms had all been settled, the perfidious Spaniard craved a still higher ransom, and declared that he would not release his victim unless another room of equal size was equally filled with silver.

Attahuallapa could fully appreciate such dishonorable conduct; for in all moral qualities he seems to have been decidedly superior to his Spanish antagonist. But without any undignified murmurs, he submitted to this extortion also. Matters being thus arranged, De Soto, with his characteristic plain dealing, said to Pizarro:

"I hope you will remember, Don Francisco, that my honor is pledged for the strict fulfilment of the contract on the part of the Spaniards. Observe, therefore, that as soon as the gold and the silver are produced, Attahuallapa must have his liberty."

CHAPTER VII

The Execution of the Inca, and Embarrassments of De Soto

Pledges of Pizarro. – His Perfidy. – False Mission of De Soto. – Execution of the Inca. – His Fortitude. – Indignation of De Soto. – Great Embarrassments. – Extenuating Considerations. – Arrival of Almagro. – March Towards the Capital.

Pizarro gave his most solemn pledges, on his Christian faith, that so soon as the money was paid the Inca should be released. The idea does not seem to have entered the mind of Attahuallapa that Pizarro could be guilty of the perfidy of violating those pledges. The unhappy condition of the Inca excited the strong sympathies of De Soto. He visited him often, and having a natural facility for the acquisition of language, was soon able to converse with the captive in his own tongue. Quite a friendship, founded on mutual esteem, sprang up between them. By his strong intercession, Pizarro was constrained to consent that the gold should not be melted into ingots, thus to fill the designated space with its solid bulk, but that it should be received and packed away in the form of vases, and ornaments, and other manufactured articles, as brought in by the Peruvians.

Several of the principal officers of Attahuallapa's court were sent to Cuzco, the capital of the empire, where the main treasures of the kingdom were deposited. Three Spaniards accompanied these officers. The Inca issued his orders that they should be treated with respect. The people obeyed; for they knew that any injury or insult befalling the Spaniards would bring down terrible retribution upon their beloved sovereign. Peruvian agents were also dispatched to all the temples to strip them of their ornaments, and to the homes of the nobility to receive the plate and golden decorations which were eagerly contributed as ransom for the king. The cornices and entablatures of the temples were often of solid gold, and massive plates of gold encrusted the walls. For several weeks there seemed to be a constant procession of Peruvians entering the fortress, laden with golden vases and innumerable other utensils, often of exquisite workmanship.

Within the allotted time the ransom, enormous as it was, was all brought in. It is estimated that its value was equal to about twenty million dollars of our money. The Inca now demanded his release. The infamous Pizarro had perhaps originally intended to set him at liberty. But he had now come to the conclusion that the Inca might immediately rally around him, not only his whole army, but the whole population of the kingdom, cut off the retreat of the Spaniards, exterminate them, and win back all the plunder so unrighteously extorted. Pizarro was consequently plotting for some plausible excuse for putting the monarch to death. The Peruvians thus deprived of their sovereign, and in a state of bewilderment, would be thrown into anarchy, and the Spaniards would have a much better chance of obtaining entire possession of the kingdom.

Pizarro did not dare to reveal to De Soto his treasonable designs. He feared not only his reproaches, but his determined and very formidable resistance. He therefore gave it as an excuse for postponing the liberation of the Inca, that he must wait until he had made a division of the spoils. The distribution was performed with imposing religious ceremonies. Mass was celebrated, and earnest prayers were addressed to Heaven that the work might be so performed as to meet the approbation of God. A fifth part of the plunder was set apart for the king of Spain, the Emperor, Charles the Fifth. Pizarro, as commander of the expedition, came next, and his share amounted to millions. De Soto was defrauded, not receiving half so much as Hernando Pizarro. Still, his share in this distribution and in another which soon took place, amounted to over five hundred thousand dollars. This was an enormous sum in those days. It elevated him at once, in point of opulence, to the rank of the proudest grandees of Spain.

The great object of De Soto's ambition was accomplished. He had acquired fame and wealth beyond his most sanguine expectations. Thus he was prepared to return to Spain and demand the hand of Isabella. But his generous nature was troubled. He became very anxious for the fate of the Inca. His own honor was involved in his release, and day after day he became more importunate in his expostulations with Pizarro.

"Whatever the consequences may be," said De Soto, "the Inca must now be immediately set at liberty. He has your promise to that effect and he has mine; and my promise, come what will, shall not be violated."

Pizarro urged, in view of their peril, the delay of a few weeks. De Soto replied:

"Not a single week, not a day; if you do not liberate the prisoner, I will take that liberty on myself."

"To give him his freedom at this time," Pizarro replied, "would be certain destruction to us all."

"That may be," responded De Soto, "but that should have been considered before he was admitted to ransom."

"But since that agreement was made," said Pizarro, "I have received information which justifies me in changing my intentions. Attahuallapa's officers, acting under his directions, are now engaged in exciting an insurrection for the extermination of the Spaniards."

De Soto had no faith whatever in this accusation. There was a long and angry controversy. Pizarro called in his interpreter Filipillo, who was undoubtedly bribed to testify according to the wishes of his master. He declared that the Inca was organizing this conspiracy. De Soto was unconvinced. He still regarded the accusation as a groundless calumny.

Finally they came to a compromise. The treacherous and wily Pizarro suggested that De Soto should take a party of dragoons and proceed to that section of the country, where it was said the conspirators were assembling in vast numbers, in preparation for their onset upon the Spaniards. If De Soto found no indication of such a movement, Pizarro gave his solemn pledge, that immediately upon his return, he would release Attahuallapa. De Soto agreed to the arrangement, and at once set out on the journey.

Pizarro had thus accomplished his object, of being relieved of the embarrassment of De Soto's presence, while he should lead the Inca to his execution. A sort of council of war was held, though Attahuallapa was not present, and nothing was heard in his defence. It was necessary to proceed with the utmost expedition, as De Soto would soon return. The horrible verdict of the court was, that the captive should be burned to death at the stake. Pizarro himself, it is said, carried the terrible intelligence to the prisoner.

The Inca, a young man in the very prime of life, being but thirty years of age, was horror stricken, and for some time sat in silence, not uttering a word. And then turning to Pizarro, he said:

"Is it possible that you can believe in a God and fear him, and yet dare to commit such an act of injustice? What have I done to deserve death in any form, and why have you condemned me to a death so unusual and painful. Surely you cannot intend to execute this cruel sentence."

Pizarro assured him that the decree of the court was unalterable, and must immediately be carried into effect.

"Think of the wrong you have already done me," said the Inca, "and do not forget how much you are indebted to my kindness and forbearance. I could easily have intercepted you in the mountain passes, and made you all prisoners, or sacrificed you all justly to the offended laws of my country. I could have overpowered you with my armed warriors at Caxamarca. But I failed in my duty to my people in receiving you as friends. You have robbed me of my kingdom and compelled me to insult my Deity, by stripping his temples to satisfy your avarice.

"Of all my possessions, you have left me nothing but my life, and that I supposed you would be willing to spare me, since you can gain nothing by taking it away. Consider how hard it is for me to die, so suddenly and without any warning of my danger. I have lived but thirty years, and until very lately, I had every reason to hope for a long and happy life. My prospects for happiness are blighted forever. But I will not complain of that, if you will permit me to live out the term which God and nature have allotted me."

The execution was to take place immediately. Pizarro waited only for the sun to go down, that darkness might shroud the fiendlike deed. As they were talking Pizarro's chaplain, Friar Vincent, came in to prepare the victim for the sacrifice. He was dressed in his ecclesiastical robes, and bore in his hand a large crucifix. Was he an unmitigated knave, or was he a fanatic? Who but God can tell.

"It is time for you," said he, "to withdraw your thoughts from earthly vanities and fix them upon the realities of the eternal world. You are justly condemned to death, for your infidelity and other sins. I call on you to accept the free gift of salvation which I now offer you, so that you may escape the greater punishment of eternal fire."

The Inca seemed to pay little heed to these words, but with a gesture of impatience and anger, exclaimed:

"Oh, where is De Soto? He is a good man, and he is my friend. Surely he will not allow me to be thus murdered."

"De Soto," the priest replied, "is far away. No earthly help can avail you. Receive the consolations of the Church; kiss the feet of this image, and I will absolve you from your sins, and prepare you to enter the kingdom of Heaven."

"I worship the Maker of all things," the Inca firmly replied. "As much as I desire to live, I will not forsake the faith of my fathers to prolong my life."

Two hours after sunset, the sound of the trumpet assembled the Spanish soldiers by torchlight in the great square of Caxamarca. It was the evening of the twenty-ninth of August, 1533. The clanking of chains was heard as the victim, manacled hand and foot, toiled painfully over the stone pavement of the square. He was bound by chains to the stake; the combustible fagots were piled up around him. Friar Vincent then, it is said, holding up the cross before the victim, told him that if he would embrace Christianity he should be spared the cruel death by the flames, and experience in its stead only the painless death of the garotte, and that the Inca did, while thus chained to the stake, abjure his religion and receive the rite of baptism. In reference to this representation Mr. Lambert A. Wilmer, in his admirable life of Ferdinand De Soto, says:

"As the traducers of the dead Inca were permitted to tell their own story without fear of contradiction, it is impossible to assign any limits to their fabrications. And their testimony is probable, only when it tends to criminate themselves. Perhaps the greatest injustice which these slanderers have done to Attahuallapa's memory, was by pretending that he became an apostate to his own religion and a convert to Catholicism just before his death.

"If this story were true, how could Pizarro justify himself, or how could the Pope and the king of Spain excuse him for putting a Christian to death on account of sins committed by an infidel. Surely the royal penitent, when he entered the pale of the Holy Catholic Church, would be entitled to a free pardon for those errors of conduct which were incidental to his unregenerate condition. We are told that when the Inca had consented to be baptized by Father Vincent, Pizarro graciously commuted his sentence, and allowed him to be strangled before his body was reduced to ashes."

These fictions were doubtless contrived to illustrate Pizarro's clemency, and Father Vincent's apostolic success.

The probability is, as others state, that the Inca remained firm to the end; the torch was applied, and while the consuming flames wreathed around him, he uttered no cry. In this chariot of fire the spirit of this deeply outraged man was borne to the judgment of God.

De Soto soon returned. He was almost frantic with indignation when he learned of the crime which had been perpetrated in his absence, and perceived that his mission was merely an artifice to get him out of the way. His rage blazed forth in the most violent reproaches. Hastening to the tent of Pizarro, he rudely pushed aside a sentinel who guarded the entrance, and found the culprit seated on a low stool, affecting the attitude of a mourner. A large slouched hat was bent over his eyes.

"Uncover yourself;" said De Soto, "unless you are ashamed to look a human being in the face." Then with the point of his sword he struck off his hat, exclaiming:

"Is it not enough that I have disgraced myself in the eyes of the world by becoming your companion and confederate, making myself accessory to your crimes, and protecting you from the punishment you deserve. Have you not heaped infamy enough upon me, without dishonoring me by the violation of my pledges, and exposing me to the suspicion of being connected with the most cruel and causeless murder that ever set human laws and divine justice at defiance? I have ascertained, what you well knew before I left Caxamarca, that the report of the insurrection was utterly false. I have met nothing on the road but demonstrations of good will. The whole country is quiet, and Attahuallapa has been basely slandered. You, Francisco Pizarro, are his slanderer, and you are his murderer.

"To prove that I have had no participation in the deed, I will make you accountable for his death. Craven and prevaricating villain as you are, you shall not escape this responsibility. If you refuse to meet me in honorable combat, I will denounce you to the king of Spain as a criminal, and will proclaim you to the whole world as a coward and an assassin."

Pizarro was both, an assassin and a coward. He stood in awe of his intrepid lieutenant. He did not dare to meet him in a personal rencontre, and he well knew that De Soto was not a man to be taken by force or guile, as he could immediately rally around him the whole body of his well-drilled dragoons. He therefore began to make excuses, admitted that he had acted hastily, and endeavored to throw the blame upon others, declaring that by their false representations they had forced him to the act.

In the midst of the dispute, Pizarro's brothers – for there were two in the camp – entered the tent. De Soto, addressing the three, said:

"I am the champion of Attahuallapa. I accuse Francisco Pizarro of being his murderer." Then throwing his glove upon the floor, he continued:

"I invite any man who is disposed to deny that Francisco Pizarro is a coward and an assassin, to take it up."