by Hugh Thomas
All the same, on May 11, 1545, the voyage finally began, with four ships and 400 fighting men on board. The journey was slow since Orellana chose to stop three months in Tenerife and then two months in Portugal’s Cape Verde Islands. In the latter, ninety-eight members of his expedition died; fifty remained there because they were too weak to continue. Orellana also left behind one of his ships because he needed some of its equipment to repair the other vessels.
At last, in November he set off on the relatively short voyage from the Cape Verde Islands across to Brazil. But bad luck still attended him. A ship with seventy-seven men on board, as well as eleven horses, foundered and was lost. Despite the long stay in the Cape Verde Islands, water became short.
Finally, Orellana reached one of the mouths of the Amazon. He started upstream, despite requests for a rest. All the dogs and horses were eaten. Another fifty men died. One of the two caravels was wrecked; those on board took refuge on an island where the natives were unusually friendly. In the next three months, they built a new brigantine. Orellana, his wife, and Fray Pablo set off on this vessel looking for the main river Amazon, leaving Diego Muñoz and thirty or so men behind on the friendly island. These thirty eventually built their own boat using some of the timber and nails from the one that had foundered. In this craft, they went upriver in search of Orellana, but there was no sign of him. They returned to the sea; then six of them ran away because they believed that the territory was promising for agriculture. Four others absconded because they feared going on upstream in a small boat. The rest continued, though marooned one night in a mangrove swamp and driven mad by mosquitoes. Led by Francisco de Guzmán, they found a cultivated zone with cassava and maize as well as sweet potatoes, yams, duck, chickens, and also a turkey. Thus fortified, they had the energy to sail back up the South American coast, through the Gulf of Paria, to the island of Margarita.
There, after some time, they were joined by Ana de Ayala and twenty-five others, but not her husband. She reported that Orellana had not succeeded in finding the main channel of the Amazon, and that in consequence of his becoming ill, he had decided to abandon the project of founding New Andalusia. He had made up his mind to seek gold and silver instead. But when, more prosaically, he was looking for food, he and his expedition were attacked by Indians in canoes. They bombarded the Spaniards with arrows. Seventeen of them died. Orellana also died shortly afterwards, whether from grief over this loss or from his fever was quite unclear. That was in November 1546.
Of the whole expedition that had set out from Sanlúcar in May 1545, only forty-four survived. The forty-four included Orellana’s widow, Ana. New Andalusia was not to be. But all the same, Orellana is remembered as the involuntary architect of the geographical unity of a continent and the heroic survivor of one of the greatest journeys. Gonzalo Pizarro remembered him, too—for other reasons.
29
The Defeat of the Viceroy
Oh Indies! Oh conquistadors full of work in the simplicity of those times, where you had an excellent name and found eternal fame.
DORANTES DE CARRANZA
Vaca de Castro’s apparently calm control of turbulent Peru lasted till a formal successor, a viceroy, was appointed from Spain. That was in February 1543, and the nominee was Blasco Núñez Vela, whose earlier life had been spent as a captain of the fleet in several voyages to the Indies. He had also been corregidor of Cuenca and of Málaga. His maritime qualities may have been superlative; he may have been privately enchanting, for he was known to have been passionate in his feelings; he may have been a good administrator; but he was politically inept. The Council of the Indies made an error in nominating him to such an important post. When he was named viceroy, it became immediately known that it would be his responsibility to carry into effect in Peru the New Laws on the administration of the empire and the benign treatment of Indians. (For the New Laws, see chapter 44.)
This news shocked the old conquistadors of Peru, above all the encomenderos. These men, often rich and comfortable, turned to the last of the Pizarros, Gonzalo Pizarro, to represent and to lead them. Since his return from the Amazon, Gonzalo had been living in luxury on his property in Charcas, in what is now Bolivia. He had planned an expedition in 1542 but had been distracted from that by his wish to avenge his brother Francisco. The next year, 1543, with his son Francisco he set out to deal with the Páez Indians, who had obstructed him on his earlier journey to the headwaters of the Amazon, precisely at Timaná. In his absence, he left Juan Cabrera as his acting governor. Cabrera then was named to carry out an expedition to the cinnamon forest.
Throughout 1542, however, Gonzalo seemed the man whom the encomenderos thought could lead them against the New Laws, which they considered both unfair and absurd. Some friends urged him to seize the opportunity of carrying out a “unilateral declaration of independence,” even make himself the first Spanish King of Peru, and to marry an Indian Princess.
In this electric atmosphere, Núñez Vela, the first viceroy, arrived at Nombre de Dios in Panama-Darien, accompanied by new judges of the supreme court of Peru. From Nombre de Dios, the Viceroy traveled overland to Panama, where he liberated many Indians who had been brought as slaves or servants from Peru. There were protests from the “owners,” but the Viceroy told them that Charles the Emperor had specifically requested that this should be done.
The rest of the Viceroy’s journey was beset with bad luck. First, his judge Ortiz de Zárate could not leave Panama because of illness. Ortiz de Zárate tried, though, to persuade Núñez Vela to enter Peru “blandamente” (innocently) and not to try to execute immediately the New Laws agreed in Spain, at the least till the supreme court was in place. Then Núñez Vela could proclaim such laws as he thought right, but even then, if there was opposition, it would be as well to consult the Emperor again. If Charles once again directed the Viceroy to enact the laws, he would by then be in a better position, having since established himself.
The Viceroy was angry at these suggestions, which he thought feeble. Without waiting for the judges, he set off impetuously, going first to Tumbes, then south to Trujillo, insisting on declarations there about the New Laws. The people of Trujillo appealed against him, many of them supposing that their wars had been wasted if they were going to have no slaves to look after them when they were old. But Núñez Vela went ahead and sent a message to the interim governor, Vaca de Castro, ordering him to lay down his authority.1 By then, “all Peru was full of the Viceroy’s harshness,” as Garcilaso later put the matter. But Núñez Vela’s train continued onward to Lima. The town council decided on a grand reception. But there were to be no Indian slaves present. An unknown wit wrote on the back wall of the main inn in the place, “Whoever seeks to throw me out of my house, I shall throw out of the world.”2
Núñez Vela was received about ten miles from Lima, where many went out to meet him. These were headed by Vaca de Castro; Bishop Loaisa, not to be confused with his namesake and cousin on the Council of the Indies; the bishop-elect of Quito, Díaz; and the town council, headed by the Basque Benito Suárez de Carvajal, brother of Illán and Juan. The Viceroy publicly swore that he would always act in the interests of all Peruvians. Celebrations followed in the cathedral. The next day, Núñez Vela went to Pizarro’s palace and had Vaca de Castro arrested and then placed in the common prison. The Viceroy accused his predecessor of abetting the plots of Gonzalo Pizarro, an unjust accusation. If blame were to be found for such events, the finger rather should point at the Viceroy himself. It was he who was to blame for coming to Peru in such an impulsive and hasty way, publishing all that he was going to do against the encomenderos.3 He seemed an absurd figure in demanding so much ceremony and ritual from his attendants.
Meantime, Gonzalo wrote to the Viceroy on behalf of the cities and the encomenderos to protest against the New Laws. The Viceroy seemed obtuse. The judges of the supreme court eventually arrived in Lima. This complicated matters, for they soon took up the cause of Suarez de Carvajal, a factor who
m the Viceroy had had killed because a body of soldiers had been seen leaving his house on their way to see Gonzalo Pizarro.4 The matter was further complicated by the bad behavior of two Almagrists, Diego Méndez and Gómez Pérez, who had escaped Vaca de Castro to go and live in the circle of Manco Capac. They suggested that Manco should be permitted to return to Cuzco, where he could be expected to serve the new Viceroy. Núñez Vela was pleased with that idea. But before he could act, Gómez Pérez and Manco Capac had a dispute over manners. The former threw a ninepin ball at Manco, which hit him on the head and killed him.5 Life in the new Peru was nothing if not short.
Now those Spaniards who were settled in Peru took the law into their own hands. The settlers of Huamanga, Arequipa, and Chuquisaca all implored Gonzalo Pizarro to be their procurador (representative) against the Viceroy. In La Plata, the settlers made a similar request to Diego Centeño, one of Pedro de Alvarado’s followers who by now was Gonzalo’s deputy. Both went to Lima with armed men and, with the Viceroy in Cuzco, prepared an independent army. Gonzalo recovered the encomiendas and other property of his brother Francisco that Vaca de Castro had seized. He also took gold and silver from the royal chest and soon had four hundred settlers and as many as twenty thousand Indians at his behest. He took prisoner those who had sided in recent events with the Viceroy. He hanged several of these, such as Gómez de Luna, another former follower of Pedro de Alvarado, as well as Martín de Florencia, who had been at Cajamarca. Diego Maldonado, held to be the richest of encomenderos in Peru and so known as “the Rich,” was placed naked on a donkey and tortured by ropes and water.6 Gonzalo also ordered other injustices, such as the execution of his cousin Pedro Pizarro. But he was talked out of that unwise idea by his experienced, eccentric, and artful master of the horse, Francisco de Carvajal. Gonzalo also permitted Vaca de Castro to escape in a ship to Panama.
Gonzalo Pizarro now sought to order his army in an efficient style. Hernando Bachicao pretended to be a count. He was savage in all his actions, but captained Gonzalo’s artillery. That arm was becoming the decisive weapon of war at that time. All Gonzalo’s men were powerful independent conquistadors with long histories of achievement. They climbed the great hill of Sacsahuamán, overlooking Cuzco. There they awaited the Viceroy, who had a slightly larger army of six hundred Spaniards, with one hundred horse and two hundred arquebusiers. Its basis was Vaca’s army, and many of its men had known their opponents intimately for a generation.
For a time, the two armies fenced with, rather than fought, each other. Gonzalo was despondent at the size of his opponent’s force and realized the risk that he was taking in choosing to fight against the Emperor’s envoy, an action that could be interpreted as a revolt against the Emperor himself. But he was cheered by the adhesion to his cause of Pedro de Puelles, one of those who came to Peru from Guatemala with Pedro de Alvarado, with forty horsemen and twenty arquebusiers. He was also cheered by the complete confusion in Lima, resulting in charges and countercharges between the Viceroy and judges of the supreme court. Núñez Vela was for a time under arrest as a result of the judges’ decisions, then placed on an island two leagues off, allegedly for his own safety.7 Then he was able to leave for the apparently safe port of Trujillo.
On October 6, 1544, Gonzalo Pizarro entered Lima. It was a triumphant entry. His van was led by Bachicao, and he was backed by no fewer than twenty-two pieces of artillery, carried by Indian porters. This was a colossal array for Peru. There followed thirty arquebusiers, then fifty artillerymen, followed by Diego Gumiel and two hundred pikemen. After them came three companies of infantrymen, who preceded Gonzalo Pizarro riding a fine white horse. Pizarro, in turn, was followed by three sections of cavalry. Gonzalo repaired to the house of Judge Ortiz de Zárate, where that official and his judicial colleagues took his oath. They then went to the council chamber, where Gonzalo was received with due ceremony as procurator general of Peru. No one in Spanish America had had such a grand entry into a city as Gonzalo. There was no battle. The presence of artillery and arquebuses on such a substantial scale was remarkable, and a formidable innovation.
Gonzalo now found himself governor of Peru in view of the rights of conquest held by his brother Francisco and the nomination of the judges. He acted, however, as a monarch more than a governor. He gave satisfaction to merchants as well as encomenderos. Of course, there were some settlings of old scores: For example, Diego Gumiel, head of the pikemen in Gonzalo’s joyeuse entrée, made a minor complaint and was strangled by Francisco de Carvajal. Carvajal declared, with his special black humor: “Make way for Captain Diego de Gumiel, who has sworn never to do it again.”8 Garcilaso commented: “There were no rejoicings without executions and no executions without rejoicings.” Yet there were many more conventional celebrations—bullfights, games, jousts—and even some poems were specially written. After a few weeks, Gonzalo Pizarro, a man with no sense of bitterness, gave a general pardon to all who had taken up arms against him. The exceptions were Sebastián Garcilaso de la Vega, an aristocrat related to the poet of that name who had also come to Peru with Alvarado and who hid for a time in a grave in the Dominican monastery, and a Licenciado Carvajal, who fled to the north. Gonzalo sent Dr. Tejada and Francisco Maldonado as procuradors to represent his cause in Spain, escorted by Hernando Bachicao as far as Panama. On the only ship, there was Vaca de Castro, still a prisoner, who, with a kinsman, García de Montalvo, seized control before it could leave harbor. In the end, a brigantine was found, and Bachicao and the procuradors left on it.
Núñez Vela, surprisingly free and still determined to impose his viceroyalty, was now making for the first Spanish city of Peru, Tumbes, in order to try to raise men. He then went to San Miguel (in modern Ecuador). He was certain that reinforcements would rally to him, for he was strategically well placed to receive such help. He could not avoid some further skirmishing. Jerónimo de Villegas from Burgos and Gonzalo Díaz de Pineda, acting for Gonzalo, captured one of the Viceroy’s men and cut off his head. The Viceroy, in revenge, pursued and dispersed them, Gonzalo Díaz afterwards being killed by Indians as he wandered lost.
Gonzalo Pizarro himself set off in March 1545 to deal, as he supposed, with the Viceroy’s challenge, now with about six hundred foot and substantial cavalry. He left behind the ambiguous Lorenzo de Aldana—originally from Cáceres, who like so many had come with Pedro de Alvarado to Peru—in control of Lima with eighty men. There were other ambiguities: Thus Gómez de Luna, in La Plata, unwisely remarked that sooner or later the Emperor would rule again—a comment that led to his execution by Francisco de Almendras, Gonzalo’s great friend, who was a native of Plasencia. Friends of Luna, such as Diego Centeño, organized a rising. There was some sporadic bloodshed in Lima as a result, but everyone knew that all depended on the dealings between the Viceroy and Gonzalo Pizarro.
The Viceroy withdrew even farther northward: He fled to Quito, thence to Popayán, which is far into what we think of now as Colombia. There, he built forges and made new arquebuses. He wrote to Benalcázar and Juan Cabrera, asking for their help. Gonzalo put it about that he was planning to withdraw from Quito in order to deal with the rising of Diego Centeño. The Viceroy believed this and made as if to return to Quito. But Gonzalo had made a feint. The Viceroy returned to Quito and was astounded to find Gonzalo still outside the city. All the same, though weary, he prepared for battle. His captains of infantry were Sancho Sánchez de Ávila and Juan Cabrera, while Benalcázar fought for him with Cepeda and Pedro de Bazán as captains of cavalry. The arquebusiers skirmished. Then Gonzalo’s evil genius, Francisco de Carvajal, attacked the Viceroy’s right. The Viceroy’s cavalry, despite the presence of Benalcázar, attacked in no special order and were destroyed by the arquebusiers. Gonzalo rode into the center of the fight with a hundred horsemen. Cabrera and Sancho Sánchez were killed, as was Alfonso de Montalvo on Gonzalo’s side. Dressed in an Italian shirt, the Viceroy was knocked to the ground by Hernando de Torres, his execution completed by a black slave. His head was
taken to Quito, where it was exposed for months. Two hundred of his men were killed, but only seven of Gonzalo Pizarro’s. Most of these men were buried on the field, but the Viceroy himself and other leaders were interred in the new cathedral of Quito. The wounded were pardoned, Benalcázar was sent back to Popayán, and others went to join Valdivia in Chile.9 Another who died was Santa Teresa’s brother, Antonio de Cepeda. Of the old leaders, Licenciado Álvarez was dead, Tejada had gone to Spain, Ortiz de Zárate was in Lima alone, and Centeño was in the South, but had so few friends with him that his whole force could hide in a cave.
At this time, there were probably some four thousand Spaniards in Peru living in 274 encomiendas scattered throughout the colony—probably eighty-six at Cuzco, forty-five at Trujillo and Lima, thirty-four at Huánaco, thirty-seven at Arequipa, twenty-two at Huamanga, and five at Chachapoyas. Perhaps there were 1,550,000 tributary Indians. So at least the census of 1540 suggested.10 The missionary orders, the Dominicans and the Mercedarians, numbered about one hundred.
These unprecedented political disputes overshadowed some great economic events. Thus in 1542–43 there was a gold rush near Cuzco and another one in 1545–46.11 Then, in 1545, the silver mines at Potosí were stumbled upon by Don Diego, son of a minor Indian cacique in the region of Cuzco. Don Diego had been first at the mine of Porco, which was no distance from Potosí. Then he found Potosí, and within months seven thousand Indians were working there. It was an event that soon transformed the country—indeed the empire.
