Within a few weeks the cortège with the emperor’s mummified body began its 1,200 mile journey south to Cuzco. Bound in white cloth, the mummy was carried on a throne litter by his principal lords and accompanied by the litters of the Coya Rahua Ocllo and her retinue. The procession travelled on the great Chinchasuyo road that separated the coastal plains and the cordillera, from where its progress was reported to the new emperor by the chasqui, relays of runners, who could cover the entire distance the cortège would travel in less than five days. To the traditional wailing of women mourners, their breasts exposed in demonstration of their grief, the caravan of litters and armed warriors with their baggage train of yanacona porters and llamas made its ascent into the cordillera along its stone-terraced roads and canyon valleys. At the mountain rest house of Limatambo, where the party had encamped for several days, the Coya Rahua Ocllo was summoned by her son to travel ahead to Cuzco. Some time after her departure the retinue of Inca princes and lords was set upon and massacred. A reprisal for what he believed to have been his relatives’ complicity in Atahualpa’s refusal to render him homage, it was an act for which she would never forgive her son. The massacre, chronicled by most of the early Spanish accounts, would add to the resentment they also recorded by the lords of Cuzco at their new emperor’s decision to appropriate the panaca lands and wealth, and which would unite many of them in siding with Atahualpa’s eventual rebellion.
Within a year the Inca realm of Tahuantinsuyo was rent by a civil war in which tens of thousands of its people were killed, and which led to the sacking of the city of Tumibamba by Atahualpa’s armies and the massacre of its Cañari inhabitants. The war between the two brothers was finally brought to an end by the capture of the young emperor on the outskirts of Cuzco. Imprisoned in a wooden cage, he was forced to watch as nearly all the members of his panaca and his young sister-queen were put to death, their bodies subsequently impaled along the northern approach road to what had once been his imperial capital. His shoulders twisted by ropes, he was taken by Atahualpa’s warrior chiefs Quisquis and Chalcuchima to the mountain hamlet of Andamarca, south of Cajamarca. There, above the waters of a river, together with his mother, Huáscar was killed. In less than four years the Inca realm of Tahuantinsuyo had virtually dismembered itself, and through the circumstances of a cruel fate had laid itself open to its final and inevitable destruction by the small army of Pizarro’s conquistadores who had disembarked on its northern shore.
Diego de Trujillo was probably twenty-seven years old when Pizarro’s small armada sailed towards the northern Pacific coast of South America. In old age he recalled the events of those early days. More than those of any other conquistadore, his words evoke the hardships, hunger and fears of his companions, young men more accustomed to toiling in the fields of their poverty-stricken villages than wielding a sword or pike.
In the first days of the year 1531, some two hundred and fifty of us Spaniards [including African and Isthmian slaves], among them three Dominican friars, Fray Reginaldo, Fray Vicente de Valverde and Fray Juan, set sail from the island of Pearls [an island in the Bay of Panama noted for its pearl fishing] piloted by Bartolomé Ruiz; and with fine weather we reached the Bay of San Mateo in six days. We stayed ten days at the bay to rest ourselves, and many Indians came down its river in canoes to observe us, though unwilling to land. The region is mountainous and there are frequent rain storms, and much fruit can be found, such as guavas and caymitos.
On leaving the bay we came to a village some four leagues away which had been deserted, and which was called Catamez. There also we found guavas and plums and some freshwater wells, where we drank and drew water in seashells. It rained a lot and there were a great many mosquitoes. We then made our way to a large village along the coast called Canceví, and which was also abandoned, and where we found many earthenware pots and fishing nets. We also found maize in the fields, which we ate, even though it was young: for we were in dire need of food. Nor was there any fresh water there, which we much needed.
As we had no native guide who knew the land, and who could have shown us where to rest and set up our encampment, the Governor [Pizarro] sent the Captain Escobar into the mountains to see whether he could find someone to guide us, and I accompanied him. We came to a dry waterless gully, where we noticed some smoke, and we stayed there till dawn in the hope of finding a village. It rained so heavily in the night that the gully was flooded, and one of our men was drowned. The rest of us managed to escape by swimming.
Finally we came to a village, where we found three or four Indians. They had slung their hammocks at the top of some very tall trees, like stork’s nests, and were shrieking as if they were cats or monkeys. We captured one of them, but we had no way of understanding what he said. We took him back to our camp and after a fortnight he told us by sign language of the existence of a land ahead, where we would find plenty of food: for that was all at that time we wished to find.
Along that coast we also discovered a waterfall that cascaded into the sea. This made us very content, for we had great need of fresh water. From there we continued our march to the Quiximis rivers, which we crossed on rafts we constructed. Again, we were in much need of food and water as the rivers were of salt water. It was here Bartolomé Ruiz found us with one of our ships, and he sent a longboat out to us with provisions for a meal: of half a jug of maize flour for each man. And after we crossed the rivers, which were each a quarter of a league wide, we found plenty of sweet potatoes and yuca, from which we made cassava bread. There was also an abundance of guava and other such fruits. All of which revived us greatly.
There was another river in this land, further inland than these two, and much wider. There we tied a mare to a raft so that the horses would follow her, and which they did, leaping into the water after her. The men who could not swim were taken on rafts, or by the horses as they swam across, and as we had no pack animals each of us brought with him all his possessions and arms.
After crossing the rivers we went further down the coast. There we ate some crabs that almost poisoned every one of us. It was then we received our first news of Coaque, a large village, rich in gold, silver, emeralds and other precious stones. Even though we were still sickly, that very same night to the sound of our trumpets we made our attack on the village. The cacique was captured and for a while remained our prisoner. We also found a great quantity of white cotton cloth, maize, fruits, and a herb similar to basil, and chilli peppers. There were several temples in the village with their idols and human-skinned drums. The men of the tribe were strong and war-like. The village possessed some three hundred large huts. The region is humid – there are large snakes and giant toads – and it rains a great deal and there are numerous thunderstorms. Once when we had nothing more to eat some of our men ate a snake. Two of them died, and another man, who had flavoured his portion with garlic, survived but lost all his hair, and was left so ill that it took him a great deal of time to recover his health.
In this village we took eighteen thousand pesos of gold and some silver of poor quality. The Governor then sent Bartolomé Ruiz and Quintero with our two ships to Nicaragua and to Panama, together with the gold he hoped would attract more volunteers to join us. We stayed at Coaque for almost eight months, and in which time many of our men died of sickness and were stricken by verugas [a facial and skin growth that bled and was the size of an egg]. Soon after the ships departed, Pedro Gregorio’s barque found us, bringing provisions of dried meat, hams, and cheeses from the Canary islands. He brought also some reinforcements, among them Pedro Díaz, who later settled in Huamanga, and Juan de la Torre, who settled in Arequipa, and who are still alive to this day [1571], all the others who came with him are dead. On the ship that returned from Nicaragua came Sebastián de Belalcázar with some of his men, all of whom are now also dead.
The only person among us who could identify the emeralds we found was the Friar Reginaldo, who collected upwards of a hundred and sewed them in his doublet. He then retur
ned in Pedro Gregorio’s barque to Panama where he died. The emeralds were then taken from his effects and sent as a present to his Majesty.
After the arrival of the ships from Panama and Nicaragua we left Coaque, though most of us were again sickly. We then made for the cape of Pasao, and being unable to pass the headland we were forced to clear a path across the mountain to its village, from where we went on to the bay of Carques, where we again suffered greatly because of the lack of fresh water. Here all the sick were put on board our ship which sailed to a village called Charapotó in the province of Puerto Viejo …
We spent more than two months in the Puerto Viejo area which was rich in maize, fruit and papaya. But the earth is very dry and the sun had turned the soil into broken and withered dust. There are some mountains and chocolate can be found like that of Mexico … from here the Governor sent Diego Maldonado to Natá to look for fresh water as we were almost all dying of thirst. At first he decided that it would be best to turn back, but Hernando Pizarro was against the idea and for going on ahead, even if it meant risking our lives. An advance guard then discovered a small pool of greenish water which we drank; though some pigs Hernando had brought with him from Panama churned up most of the pool, so that with the exception of the first of us, most of the men drank little more than mud. We then reached the headland of Santa Elena, whose natives had fled in their rafts and canoes with their wives and children, taking with them all their animals. The villages were deserted. Wild dogs could be heard howling in the night, and we gave chase to them, and we were kept alive by eating these animals.
We then came to the straits of Huayna Cápac, so-called because Huayna Cápac crossed them to conquer the island of Puná. Tumbala, the ruler of the island, came out with many men and rafts and welcomed us with great feasting and rejoicing; though we learnt later that the men who steered our rafts intended to untie the cords that held them together when we were in the middle of the straits, so that we might drown. Only the raft carrying the Governor and the ruler of the island was to be left afloat. But their feasting was so excessive that the Governor said to Sebastián de Belalcázar: ‘All this seems suspicious to me.’ So he asked the ruler and some other of his caciques to stay with him on the mainland, and said he would cross by another way. And so our men made their crossing safely, and the rafts returned to take the Governor and those who had stayed behind with him.
We went ashore at a village called El Tuco. The straits were a league and a half [wide]. And from there we went to the village of El Estero which is on the other side of the island. There we found a tall cross and a small one painted on a door, where hung a small bell. It seemed like a miracle. Out of the house came thirty or more boys and girls shouting ‘Jesus Christ be praised! Molina! Molina!’ The truth is that at the time of his first voyage of discovery the Governor had left two Spaniards at a place called Payta, one of whom was called Molina, and the other Ginés, who was killed by the Indians at the village of Cinto for looking at the cacique’s woman. Molina had come to the island of Puná, whose Indians protected him against the natives of Chonos and Túmbez. But a month before our arrival he had been killed at sea by the Chonos while he had been fishing; and the people of Puná had been greatly grieved by his death.8
Trujillo’s account reflected the sorry state of Pizarro’s encampment on the island of Puná in the Gulf of Guayaquil, his men disillusioned by what they had seen of the earthly paradise he had promised them. Many of them were confined to their tents and hammocks, stricken by the epidemic of warts, only made worse by the stifling heat and large numbers of mosquitoes and vermin that plagued them incessantly.
On 1 December 1531 two caravels belonging to the slaver Hernando de Soto were sighted, bringing almost a hundred more volunteers from the Nicaraguan port of Posesión. Pedro Pizarro recalled that Soto’s men had displayed ‘little joy, for they found us in an anguished state … and most of the men sickly, and no gold for them to see …’9 The disembarkation of the caravels took several hours to complete, the horses and their African handlers swimming alongside the Indian rafts, laden with provisions, following the long line of men and Isthmian women slaves wading to the shore. Among them was Soto’s mistress Juana Hernández, reputed to have been the first Spanish woman to set foot on the South American continent.
Hernando de Soto was thirty-one years old. The only known description of him was left by the mestizo historian Garcilaso de la Vega, who had met a number of men who had served under him, and who wrote that he was ‘slightly above medium height with a dark and cheerful countenance’, and that he was one of the finest horsemen in the Indies.10 Dressed in the extravagant manner of the rich Nicaraguan slaver, his ear-lobes adorned with pearls and his coat armour decorated with gold and Indian amulets, Soto cut a dashing figure amid the mainly barefoot and bedraggled men who had waded out to greet him. A superstitious man, it was said he carried on his person some small hand mirrors he believed would foretell his death.11
It was shortly after Soto’s landing that Pizarro, who had watched the arrival of the two caravels from the neighbouring peninsula of Santa Elena, informed him of his decision to deny him the command of the army he had promised him in exchange for the loan of his ships. It was a betrayal Soto would never forgive. As in the case of Almagro, it typified Pizarro’s ruthlessness and his desire to consolidate his authority within his own small family circle and that of their dependants. It also demonstrated his brother Hernando’s influence: in effect he was second in command of the expedition. Their betrayal of Soto’s good faith was viewed with both anger and dismay by the veteran conquistadores who led Hernando’s squadrons: men such Cristóbal de Mena, a veteran of Nicaragua; Juan de Salcedo, who captained the infantry; and Sebastián de Belalcázar, who had also brought a small contingent of horse from the Nicaraguan port of Posesión shortly before Soto’s arrival.
Though Hernando Pizarro had obtained a captaincy in the army in the war of Navarre, possibly due to his father’s influence, there is little evidence to suggest his military experience, and none as regards the type of fighting against the warlike Native Indians that the seasoned Isthmian captains under his command would undoubtedly encounter. The dissent, however, did not show itself among the rank and file: their loyalty was clearly to Pizarro and his brothers; men such as the Castilian Diego Maldonado would proudly declare in his testimonial that he had been one of the thirty horsemen whom Pizarro had brought with him from Panama.12
Few of those by then assembled on the island had had any military experience, and their weaponry was even more inadequate: many of them shared horses and swords; some had only their home-made pikes and shields cobbled together from the wooden staves of discarded wine casks. Most were Andalucians and Castilians. Only 36 of the 168 men that would eventually reach Cajamarca were from Extremadura, and only 58 of them could read or write.13 The Dominican Vicente de Valverde, one of the six missionary friars who had joined the expedition in Seville, would be the sole survivor of his brethren.
For a further four months, until the end of the winter rains, Pizarro’s small army was forced to remain on the island. The pilot Pedro Ortiz, who had been sent to reconnoitre the southern coast on one of the caravels, recorded that ‘after a month and a half or so, the Indians on the island rose up in rebellion’, and that Pizarro ordered Soto to deal with the uprising, ‘which he did with great courage and loyalty …’.14
In the first week of April the entire contingent of men eventually crossed to the mainland aboard Soto’s two caravels and Pizarro’s remaining ship, accompanied by a small flotilla of canoes and rafts. Three Spaniards were killed by the Indians during the initial stages of the crossing; their naked bodies, skewered and hacked to pieces, were left on the shore for their companions to see, as their scalps fell prey to the small colony of sea crabs. From there, they marched along the coast to the township of Túmbez, but found it deserted. The ruins of the mud-and-thatch buildings sheltered hundreds of unburied Indian corpses, riddled with flies, and everywhe
re they encountered the smell of death and human misery. It was the first evidence they encountered of the civil war that was still being waged between the armies of the Emperor Huáscar and Atahualpa.
Túmbez was also the site where they found the bones of two gigantic human figures, a male and a female, which greatly alarmed the men. The historian Agustín de Zárate stated that ‘according to the local Indians, there once lived in that region giants so tall that they were four times the height of an average man. They do not say where they came from, but they lived on the same food as themselves, especially fish, for they were good fishermen. They fished from balsa rafts, each from his own; for though these rafts can carry three horses, they could take no more than one of these giants. They could wade out into the sea to the depth of two and a half fathoms; and they much enjoyed catching sharks and other large fish.’ And he concluded with the rather startling revelation, confirmed by various contemporary witnesses, that ‘these tales of giants were never entirely believed however, until Captain Juan de Olmos of Trujillo, lieutenant to the Governor of Puerto Viejo in the year 1543, who had heard them, ordered some men to dig in that valley. Here they found ribs and other bones so huge, that had it not been for the skulls that they found no one would have believed that they were human … and some of their teeth were three fingers wide and four fingers long.’15
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