The Last Days of the Incas

by KIM MACQUARRIE

  One of Tupac Inca’s captains, depicted here shooting a jaguar, while conquering the Antisuyu.

  Before his departure, Manco had also no doubt carefully questioned his quipucamayocs, the officials whose specialized profession consisted of memorizing and recounting the royal histories and other information, apparently using the data woven into their quipu cords as memory prompts. On multiple occasions, Manco had asked the quipu readers about the history of this area, asking them to recall the stories that had been so carefully memorized and then passed on from one generation to the next. The quipu readers presumably told Manco that his great-grandfather Pachacuti had conquered the Antisuyu but that at one point Tupac Inca had had to reconquer it. After coming to power, Tupac Inca had called a meeting in Cuzco of all the provincial chiefs from the four quarters of the empire, including those from the Antisuyu. The emperor had then ordered the latter chiefs to pay homage to the Incas’ gods and to begin bringing tribute from their forests of hard palm wood, or chonta, from which Inca craftsmen could fashion their lances, breast and back plates, and clubs. “The Antis, who did not serve voluntarily, looked upon this demand as a mark of servitude,” wrote the chronicler Pedro Sarmiento de Gamboa. “They fled from Cuzco, returned to their country, and raised the land of the Antis in the name of freedom.”

  In response to the revolt, Tupac Inca angrily gathered a powerful army and led it down the eastern flanks of the Andes, entering the Amazon in the area of what is now southeastern Peru. According to the quipucamayocs, although Tupac Inca’s soldiers cut trails through the thick forest, they soon became disoriented and were able to locate one another only by climbing tall trees and by looking for the smoke from one another’s campfires. Accustomed to the high Andes with its wide sweeping horizons that were punctuated with easily recognizable landmarks, the Incas found the dark, tropical forests claustrophobic and practically impossible to navigate in. Related Sarmiento:

  The forests were very dense and full of evil places, so that they could not force their way through, nor did they know what direction to take in order to reach the settlements of the natives, which were well concealed in the thick vegetation. To find them, the [Inca] explorers climbed up the highest trees and pointed out the places where they could see [campfire] smoke rising. So they worked at building roads through the undergrowth until they lost that [landmark] … and found another. In this way the Incas made a road where it seemed impossible to make one.

  Despite becoming lost and losing more than half of his men to sickness, Tupac Inca nevertheless persisted. He and his men followed the Tono River, hacking out a trail and eventually conquering four jungle nations: the Manosuyus, the Mañaris, the Chunchos, and the Opataris. Through force of arms, negotiation, and the use of abundant gifts, Tupac Inca was eventually able to form military alliances and trading relationships with these sacharuna, or forest people. Unlike the successes they had had with conquering the inhabitants of their other territories, however, the Incas never succeeded in forcing the Antisuyu tribes to pay them tribute. Instead, they simply traded goods (which some chroniclers confused with tribute), exchanging with the often naked warriors their copper and bronze axes and knives, finely woven cloth, and highly prized salt for the Antis’s exotic hardwoods, cacao, manioc, bird feathers, jaguar skins, manatee fat, turtle oil (used by the Incas in their lamps), and other forest products.

  In order to facilitate such trade, the Incas extended their road system down from the highlands and into the Antisuyu, following the crests of mountain spurs that descended from the Andes. The Incas soon built towns and administrative centers throughout their new province, with typical Inca storage depots, army garrison quarters, plazas, and shrines. To gain further control over the region, the Incas settled key areas of the Antisuyu with mitmaqcuna—groups of citizens from elsewhere in the empire whom the Incas relocated as colonists. Grand practitioners of social engineering, the Incas used mitmaqcuna extensively throughout their empire. Some mitmaqcuna were law-abiding citizens whom the Inca elite relocated to rebellious provinces, in order to calm an area, just as oil calms stormy water. Others consisted of the inhabitants of rebellious areas who were relocated to regions where they were surrounded by groups that had already submitted to Inca rule.

  Because they had been uprooted from their homeland, the new settlers were given the equivalent of hardship pay—gifts of cloth, women, narcotic coca leaves (normally reserved for the Inca elites), as well as a temporary exemption from paying labor taxes. Along the warm, forested foothills of the eastern Andes, mitmaq colonists planted and harvested coca leaves and cotton, traded with the nearby Antis Indians, and served as a kind of cultural and military buffer along the empire’s exposed eastern flank.

  It was toward one of the empire’s mitmaq colonies that Manco Inca and his followers now headed, working their way down through the dripping cloud forest with its orchids, hummingbirds, tree ferns, spectacled bears, and tangled, moss-encrusted vegetation. Following the Lucumayo River, Manco reached the Amaibamba Valley, where he paused to ponder his next step. Eventually, after a period of indecision, Manco crossed the Urubamba River, via the Chuquichaca bridge, and then led his procession up into the Vilcabamba Valley. There he decided to settle at Vitcos, a royal estate and provincial capital, located on a hill at about ten thousand feet in elevation. Vitcos had been founded by his great-grandfather Pachacuti.

  Standing on a high outpost overlooking the eastern frontier, where mitmaq colonists routinely traded with the Antis Indians in the lower valleys and near the sacred coca plantations and tropical forest, Manco decided that Vitcos would become the new capital of his now truncated empire. Although Vitcos was located only seventy miles from Cuzco, it was nevertheless separated by a very steep and rugged trail, many parts of which Manco had ordered destroyed. Native work crews had carefully crashed down boulders from above or had created barriers of toppled trees, obliterating the trail. The Spaniards were always unpredictable, Manco knew; he could only hope that these defensive measures would keep his most dangerous enemy at bay.

  In Cuzco, meanwhile, Diego de Almagro had his own set of problems. After having seized Cuzco and having imprisoned Hernando and Gonzalo Pizarro, Almagro was now faced with Francisco Pizarro’s relief force, five hundred strong, that was quickly approaching the capital from the north. Native scouts had informed both parties of each other’s presence, while the relief force’s leader, Alonso de Alvarado, soon realized that his order to rescue the Spaniards trapped in Cuzco was no longer relevant. Instead, Alvarado learned that Almagro had seized Cuzco by force, had imprisoned the governor’s two brothers, and was openly defying Francisco Pizarro’s jurisdiction over southern Peru. The question for Pizarro’s captain now was what he should do about that.

  Almagro, in the meantime, had already made up his mind to hold Cuzco at all costs and had appointed Rodrigo Orgóñez, his second-in-command, to lead an army in order to prevent Alvarado from reaching the capital. Having spent nearly two years in the southern region of Tawantinsuyu to no avail and now in firm control of Cuzco, Almagro wasn’t about to give up the city to an army that owed its allegiance to Pizarro. Almagro had already crossed a personal Rubicon of sorts, after having captured and imprisoned Pizarro’s two brothers. From here on, there was no turning back.

  Almagro’s military commander, Rodrigo Orgóñez, had been with Almagro now for five years. The son of poor Jewish shoemakers who had been forced to convert to Christianity, Orgóñez had fled from his native town of Oropesa in Spain because of a serious brawl he had been involved in. Orgóñez enlisted in the king’s army, distinguishing himself for bravery in Spain’s Italian Wars: he was, in fact, one of a handful of soldiers who personally captured the French King, Francis I, in the French defeat at Pavia. Returning home a hero, Orgóñez nevertheless found social advancement blocked by the low status of his birth. The young, ambitious ex-soldier, however, soon came up with an ingenious solution to his predicament: shedding his father’s last name of Méndez, Orgóñez si
mply “borrowed” the paternal surname of a local nobleman, Juan Orgóñez. He then did his best to convince the surprised nobleman that the latter was somehow his biological father. Although the elder Orgóñez vehemently denied the connection, Rodrigo “Orgóñez” and his brother, Diego Méndez, soon set sail for the Indies, hoping to improve their fortunes in the New World. With scarcely a copper maravedi coin to his name, Rodrigo nevertheless carried with him something potentially far more valuable—his pilfered aristocratic name.

  After stints in Panama and Honduras, Orgóñez eventually arrived in Peru with Diego de Almagro in April 1533, missing out in the division of gold and silver at Cajamarca, but participating in the expedition down the Andes and ultimately in the capture of Cuzco and in the division of its spoils. Finding himself suddenly wealthy and one of Cuzco’s first encomenderos, Orgóñez’s ambition, however, had only been whetted by his recent success. An old Spanish proverb says, “He who has more, wants more” (“El que más tiene, más quiere”). Orgóñez not only wanted more, but he now craved the top prize that any conquistador could aspire to: his own governorship. Orgóñez realized, however, that his chances of receiving a governorship and prestigious titles from the king would be greatly improved if he were able to legitimize his paternal last name. From Cuzco, therefore, Orgóñez soon sent the nobleman whose name he had borrowed a rich gift of gold and silver, along with letters that contained an unusual mixture of both braggadocio and pleading:

  Sir,

  … Governor don Diego de Almagro has put me in charge of his naval [resupply] fleet and I am leaving [for Chile] as his Captain-General. Not only has he done me this favor …treating me as his own son, but he even turned down more than two hundred thousand ducats that Captain Hernando de Soto [had offered] … him for the [same position]…. And to benefit me even more, he has asked His Majesty to give me a governorship….

  What I am asking His Majesty is to give me five hundred leagues [about 1,750 miles] of southern coast that I can govern and be Captain-General of … and to grant me the title of … and that he do me the favor [of giving me] ten percent of [the profits of] what I conquer, [along] with the title of Marquis, and that he grant me the habit of [the Order of] Santiago….

  Sir, what I beg of you is that it be understood by whatever means [necessary] that I am legitimate and could thus have the habit of a Knight of Santiago…. For the love of God …regarding legitimization, you can do this through a lawyer….

  Your obedient son,

  Rodrigo Orgóñez

  Orgóñez’s high hopes of finding a governorship somewhere in the south ultimately foundered, however, amidst the frozen passes, dead bodies, and desert wastelands of Chile, as well as under the withering attacks of the southern kingdom’s uncooperative inhabitants. Now back in Cuzco, he was determined to seize what he could from the rich Kingdom of New Castile, as Pizarro’s governorship was called, and to take back the encomienda that he had abandoned two years earlier. Eventually, the man who had once personally captured a French king and who had recently captured and imprisoned two of Francisco Pizarro’s brothers now found himself leading an army of men with orders from Almagro to prevent Cuzco from being retaken. Of one thing Orgóñez was certain: he would do whatever was necessary to hold on to the city that he and Almagro had just won by force of arms.

  A brilliant military strategist, Orgóñez planned a night attack on Alvarado’s forces, hoping that he might thus catch them by surprise. In a nearly bloodless battle that was fought alongside some ten thousand native auxiliaries led by Manco’s brother Paullu, Orgóñez soon not only routed his opponent but also succeeded in winning over the majority of Alvarado’s troops.

  The victorious Orgóñez now returned to Cuzco, urging Almagro to immediately execute the two Pizarro brothers. Orgóñez knew that Hernando Pizarro, especially, was a spiteful man and, if given the chance, would certainly find a way to avenge his present humiliation. Orgóñez also urged Almagro to allow him to attack Lima; there he could seize Francisco Pizarro and, with the remaining Pizarro brothers either captured or killed, the Kingdom of Peru would be theirs. Almagro, however—realizing that if he committed his forces to Lima, Manco Inca might once again attack Cuzco—decided that Orgóñez should first capture or kill the Inca leader, thus removing the threat of an attack. Once Manco had been eliminated, Orgóñez could then lead his army against Pizarro. In the meantime, Almagro said, he wanted to keep Hernando and Gonzalo Pizarro alive—perhaps to use later as bargaining chips.

  In mid-July 1573, Rodrigo Orgóñez rode out from Cuzco with three hundred Spanish cavalry and foot soldiers. This time he rode in pursuit of Manco Inca, who, according to native spies, was said to have taken refuge in the land of the Antis. Orgóñez was in fact enthusiastic about the expedition. At the very least, he and his men stood a good chance of seizing plunder, as Manco was said to have a large quantity of gold and silver in his possession. Orgóñez had also received word that Rui Díaz and a number of other Spaniards Manco held in captivity were still alive. If Orgóñez could capture or kill Manco Inca, could discover a hoard of treasure, and could find the Spanish prisoners and bring them back alive, then he was convinced that both Almagro and the king would reward him handsomely for his efforts.

  Orgóñez and his troops now rode down into the Yucay Valley, fording the river and passing by the vacant fortress of Ollantaytambo. Only a year earlier, Manco Inca had repelled repeated attacks here by Hernando Pizarro, had flooded the nearby fields in a brilliant defensive maneuver, and had continued to invest Cuzco with his nearly year-long siege. Now Manco had been forced to abandon the high Andes and was living like a fugitive in the remote Antisuyu. Leading a force nearly twice the size of the one that had captured Manco’s brother Atahualpa, Orgóñez turned away from the valley and headed north up toward the Panticalla Pass. Soon, however, the Spaniards found obstructions in their path—large boulders and fallen trees that had clearly been placed there to block their passage. Forced to find alternative routes, the Spaniards relied upon their native auxiliaries from Cuzco, who had been sent by Manco’s brother Paullu.

  Diego de Almagro, meanwhile—wishing to fracture Inca loyalties and thus to further weaken the native elite—had decided to crown Paullu in Cuzco as the new Inca emperor. Although originally a firm supporter of his brother, Paullu had just spent the previous two years with Almagro in Chile. Without Paullu’s constant assistance, in fact, it is unlikely that Almagro and his men ever would have survived the long journey or returned to Peru.

  Roughly the same age, Paullu and Manco shared the same father, Huayna Capac, but had different mothers. Paullu’s mother, Añas Collque, was the daughter of a non-Inca chief from the province of Huaylas in what is now north-central Peru. By definition, then, Paullu was not of pure royal blood. Manco’s mother, by contrast, was Mama-Runtu, a full sister of Huayna Capac; Manco thus held the edge in terms of royal legitimacy. Although Paullu had departed for Chile at Manco’s request, he had returned to a burned-out capital city where fewer than two hundred Spaniards and their native auxiliaries had survived an onslaught of some 200,000 of Manco’s warriors. Paullu, it seems, didn’t need much time to absorb the lesson. When his brother sent him a number of messages from the rebel town of Vitcos for Paullu to join him there, Paullu rebuffed the invitation. According to the chronicler Cieza de León:

  Every day they sent messengers to Paullu telling him to come and join them, as he had served long enough with the Christians. But Paullu warily replied that he was friends with these men [the Spaniards] who were so courageous that, no matter what they attempted, they always emerged victorious. And, that when there were only two hundred Spaniards in the city of Cuzco, more than two hundred thousand Indians had been assembled to kill them—and the only honor and benefit they got from that was to leave many children fatherless and many women widows. More than fifty thousand men died in the war, according to what he was told…. Paullu advised the messengers and other Indians who were going back and forth from his cam
p not to take up arms against the Spaniards.

  Paullu was clearly an opportunist, obviously preferring the life of an emperor in the capital city to the life of a subordinate and fugitive in the Antisuyu. Not surprisingly, his brother was furious; Manco in fact never forgave Paullu for the betrayal. Now, for the second time in a decade, two sons of Huayna Capac simultaneously wore the royal mascapaicha, the sacred fringe of the Inca emperor. And, like their own brothers Atahualpa and Huascar before them, both Manco and Paullu each had their group of supporters, thus further weakening allegiances among the Inca elite—precisely as Almagro had planned.

  For the moment, however, Manco had other things to worry about: a native runner had just reached him with news that a large Spanish force was making its way down along the Lucumayo River on its way to the Amaibamba Valley, where Manco was visiting. If Manco didn’t immediately flee, the messenger said, then the Spaniards would surely capture or kill him. Manco therefore climbed onto his royal litter and was borne across the river over the hanging bridge at Chuquichaca, leaving instructions behind for the town’s defense. Not long afterward, Orgóñez and his men arrived and found a legion of native warriors defending the town. According to Cieza de Léon: