ON the following morning the elated Spaniards followed up their success, securing its results with rapid efficiency. Hernando de Soto took thirty horsemen in battle formation to inspect Atahualpa’s camp. The great native army was still there: ‘the camp was as full of troops as if none had ever been missed’. But none of the stunned warriors offered any resistance. Instead, the captains of the various contingents made a sign of the cross to indicate their surrender: Pizarro had told Atahualpa to instruct them to do this.* Soto returned to Cajamarca before noon ‘with a cavalcade of men, women, sheep [llamas], gold, silver and clothing … The Governor ordered that all the llamas should be released, for they were in great quantity and encumbered the camp: the Christians could still kill as many as they needed every day. As for the Indians who had been gathered up,…the Governor ordered that they be brought into the square so that the Christians could take those they needed for their service…. Some were of the opinion that all the fighting men should be killed or have their hands cut off. The Governor would not consent. He said it was not good to do such a great act of cruelty.’ ‘All the troops were assembled and the Governor told them to return to their homes, as he had not come to harm them…. Atahualpa also ordered this.’ ‘Many of them did go, and it seemed to me that not more than twelve thousand Indians remained there.’ ‘Meanwhile the Spaniards in the camp made the Indian prisoners remove the dead from the square.’

The invasion of Peru was unique in many ways. The military conquest preceded peaceful penetration: no traders or explorers had ever visited the Inca court and there were no travellers’ tales of its spendours. The Europeans’ first glimpse of Inca majesty coincided with its overthrow. The Conquest began with the checkmate. From that first day onwards, the Peruvians were not only divided by their civil war but were also leaderless. To add to their confusion, their Inca continued to function in his captivity, issuing orders as absolute ruler.

Atahualpa was a clever man, and he immediately acted to try to extricate himself from an almost impossible situation. He noticed that the Spaniards appeared to be interested only in precious metals. Soto’s men brought back all the gold and silver they could find in the Inca’s camp. Its quality exceeded the wildest hopes of the conquistadores: their gold rush was already a dazzling success. From this military camp alone Soto brought ‘eighty thousand pesos [of gold], seven thousand marks of silver and fourteen emeralds. The gold and silver was in monstrous effigies, large and small dishes, pitchers, jugs, basins and large drinking vessels, and various other pieces. Atahualpa said that this all came from his table service, and that his Indians who had fled had taken a great quantity more.’ Atahualpa took note, and concluded that he could buy his liberty with more of these metals. He still could not conceive that these improbable 170 men were the spearhead of a full-scale invasion – and the Spaniards had no wish to disabuse him. ‘He told the Governor that he knew perfectly well what they were seeking. The Governor told him that the fighting men were seeking nothing more than gold for themselves and their Emperor.’

The Inca now offered his famous ransom. ‘ The Governor asked him how much he would give and how soon. Atahualpa said that he would give a room full of gold. The room measured 22 feet long by 17 feet wide, and [was to be] filled to a white line half way up its height – [the line] he described must have been about estados [over eight feet] high. He said that up to this level he would fill the room with various objects of gold – jars, pots, tiles and other pieces. He would also give the entire hut filled twice over with silver. And he would complete this within two months.’ The Spaniards were staggered by the unexpected proposal. ‘ Certainly an offer of vast proportions! When he had made it, Governor Francisco Pizarro, on his own and his captains’ advice, had a secretary summoned to record the Indian’s offer as a formal pledge.’

The room described by Pizarro’s secretary Xerez had a capacity of some 3,000 cubic feet, 88 cubic metres. A visitor to modern Cajamarca is shown a longer and larger room of fine coursed Inca masonry in one of the narrow streets on the slope above the main square. This larger room was being shown to tourists by “the seventeenth century. The local native chief took Antonio Vázquez de Espinosa there in 1615 and told him that ‘the room remains and will remain untouched as a memorial to Atahualpa’. This larger room was probably part of the sun temple and may have been Atahualpa’s prison chamber.â€

Atahualpa made his offer initially to save his own life ‘because he feared that the Spaniards would kill him’. Pizarro could have killed Atahualpa, but he obviously appreciated his value as a hostage and had been at pains to capture him alive. Pizarro was relieved to see that the native chiefs still obeyed Atahualpa in captivity, and was naturally delighted to learn that a fantastic ransom would also be brought to the Spaniards’ camp. He accepted Atahualpa’s offer with alacrity. ‘The Governor promised to restore him to his former liberty, provided he did no treason’ and ‘gave him to understand that he would return to Quito, the land that his father had left him.’

Once again the Spaniards duped the Inca. By tempting him with the prospect of restoration to his Quitan kingdom, they made Atahualpa a willing hostage, even a collaborator. His life became their indemnity, and the orders he issued appeared to endorse their presence. Pizarro and his men needed time to send news of their incredible success to their compatriots in Panama, to attract reinforcements with which to push deeper into Peru. The longer Atahualpa took to collect his ransom, the better for Pizarro. Both sides settled down to wait: the Spaniards for the arrival of the reinforcements and the gold, and Atahualpa for the settlement of his ransom, the restoration of his liberty and the departure of the odious strangers.

During the months in Cajamarca, the Spaniards were able to observe their royal captive. ‘Atahualpa was a man of thirty years of age, of good appearance and manner, although somewhat thick-set. He had a large face, handsome and fierce, his eyes reddened with blood. He spoke with much gravity, as a great ruler. He made very lively arguments: when the Spaniards understood them they realised that he was a wise man. He was a cheerful man, although unsubtle. When he spoke to his own people he was incisive and showed no pleasure.’ Licenciate Gaspar de Espinosa wrote to the Emperor what he had heard about Atahualpa’s intelligence: ‘He is the most educated and capable [Indian] that has ever been seen, very fond of learning our customs, to such an extent that he plays chess very well. By having this man in our power the entire land is calm.’

To their great good fortune, the Spaniards had in their control an absolute ruler whose authority was unquestioned. The only curb on an Inca’s powers was ancient custom and a tradition of benevolent rule. Atahualpa’s father Huayna-Capac and his royal predecessors had made a genuine effort to ensure the well-being and happiness of their subjects. The Inca’s prestige was heightened by a claim to be the descendant of the sun, with whom he was supposed to be in constant communication. This identification with the most powerful influence on men’s lives has been common for rulers throughout history, most notably in Egypt and Japan, and the result for the Inca was that he was worshipped during his lifetime. By Atahualpa’s time the Inca’s divine status was enhanced by being surrounded by a protective screen of women, and by the use of only the finest possible objects for personal use. He ‘was served by one sister for eight or ten days, and a great quantity of chiefs’ daughters served these sisters … These women were constantly with him to serve him, for no Indian man entered where he was…. These lords and the sisters whom they considered as wives wore very fine, soft clothing, as did their relatives. [Atahualpa] placed his cloak over his head and fastened it under his chin, covering his ears. He did this to hide one ear that was broken, for when Huascar’s men took him they damaged it.’ Atahualpa’s sister Inés Yupanqui reported years later that ‘Atahualpa’s wives were so greatly respected that no one even dared to look them in the face. If they did anything irregular they were immediately killed, and so was any Indian who committed any excess involving them.’

Pedro Pizarro observed the rituals surrounding the Inca’s daily life with fascination. When Atahualpa ate, ‘he was seated on a wooden duho little more than a span [nine inches] high. This duho was of very lovely reddish wood and was always kept covered with a delicate rug, even when he was seated on it. The ladies brought his meal and placed it before him on tender thin green rushes … They placed all the vessels of gold, silver and pottery on these rushes. He pointed to whatever he fancied and it was brought. One of the ladies took it and held it in her hand while he ate. He was eating in this manner one day when I was present. A slice of food was being lifted to his mouth when a drop fell on to the clothing he was wearing. Giving his hand to the Indian lady, he rose and went into his chamber to change his dress and returned wearing a dark brown tunic and cloak. I approached him and felt the cloak, which was softer than silk. I said to him, “Inca, of what is a robe as soft as this made?”…He explained that it was from the skins of [vampire] bats that fly by night in Puerto Viejo and Tumbez and that bite the natives.’

On another occasion the young Pedro Pizarro was taken to see the royal storehouses full of leather chests. ‘I asked what the trunks contained and [an Indian] showed me some in which they kept everything that Atahualpa had touched with his hands, and the clothes he had discarded. Some contained the rushes that they placed in front of his feet when he ate; others the bones of meat or birds he had eaten … others the cores of the ears of corn he had held in his hands. In short, everything that he had touched. I asked why they kept all this there. They told me that it was in order to burn it. Anything that had been touched by the rulers, who were sons of the sun, had to be burned, reduced to ashes and thrown to the air, since no-one was allowed to touch it.’

‘These lords slept on the ground on large cotton mattresses. They had large woollen blankets to cover them. In all Peru I saw no Indian to compare with Atahualpa for ferocity or authority.’

The adulation surrounding Atahualpa could go to extraordinary lengths. Juan Ruiz de Arce recalled that’ he did not spit on to the ground when he expectorated: a woman held out her hand and he spat into it. The women removed any hairs that fell on to his clothing and ate them. We enquired why he did that in spitting, [and learned that] he did it out of grandeur. But with the hairs he did it because he was very frightened of sorcery: he ordered them to eat the hairs to avoid being bewitched.’

This carefully cultivated aura of divinity helped to support the Inca’s absolute rule, and Atahualpa had the self-confidence and assurance to make full use of his great powers. The chiefs of his faction continued to look to him for leadership, and he exercised it from his Spanish prison. ‘When the chiefs of this province heard of the arrival of the Governor and the capture of Atahualpa, many of them came peacefully to see the Governor. Some of these caciques were lords of thirty thousand Indians, but all were subject to Atahualpa. When they arrived before him, they did him great reverence, kissing his feet and hands. He received them without looking at them. It is remarkable to record the dignity of Atahualpa and the great obedience they all accorded him.’ ‘He behaved towards them in a most princely manner, showing no less majesty while imprisoned and defeated than he had before that befell him.’ ‘I recall that the lord of Huaylas asked permission to go to visit his territory and Atahualpa gave it to him, but allowed a limited time in which he was to go and return. He delayed somewhat longer. On his return, while I was present, he arrived with a present of fruit from his province. But when he entered the Inca’s presence he began to tremble to such an extent that he could not remain standing. Atahualpa raised his head a little and, smiling, made him a sign to leave.’

The deification and glorification of the Inca were essential props in the Incas’ rule of their great empire. Only a century before the Spaniards’ arrival, the Incas had been an insignificant mountain tribe occupying only the valley of Cuzco. In about 1440 they were attacked and almost overwhelmed by the neighbouring Chanca tribe, but defended themselves and won a major victory on the plain above Cuzco. This success launched the tribe on a course of headlong expansion. The ruling family produced a series of Incas who combined an insatiable appetite for conquest with military skill and a genius for government and administration.† The Incas instinctively adopted many of the most successful devices of colonial and totalitarian regimes. They avoided bloodshed wherever possible, preferring to absorb tribes into the empire by attraction. But their well-disciplined armies were devastatingly effective when necessary. They imposed an official religion of sun worship throughout the empire, and claimed solar descent for the Inca and the entire royal family. Members of the family itself were allowed to know that the connection with the sun was based on deception : their ancestor Manco Capac had used a suit of shining armour to reflect the sun’s rays, and a similar golden disc caught that reflection in the sun temple at Cuzco.

Members of the royal family occupied all important administrative positions throughout the empire. Immediately below them was the caste of the Inca nobility, distinguished by golden plugs in their ear-lobes – from which the Spaniards knew them as orejones or ‘big ears’. The orejones occupied lesser administrative positions. The Incas ruled conscientiously, but they also enjoyed every available form of luxury and privilege. They had the finest food and clothing, magnificent table services, ornaments and palaces, beautiful women, servants, a private language, permission for incest denied to ordinary people, the use of roads and special bridges, travel in litters, a different scale of punishments, the right to chew the mild narcotic coca, and so forth. The chiefs of conquered tribes were gradually admitted to this privileged class. Their sons were taken to Cuzco to be educated and to participate in court rituals. The families of subject rulers thus perpetuated the caste distinction, enjoying its privileges while surrendering much of their power. Members of the entire Inca tribe also enjoyed special prestige, and a feeling that they were part of an élite. Groups of them were transplanted into newly won areas to form a nucleus of unquestioned loyalty. As the empire expanded, other Quechua-speaking tribes were designated as honorary Incas. Inca society was thus sharply class-conscious, even if the distinctions were not based on a monetary system or on private property, and even if the ruling caste provided a benign welfare state.

The charisma of the privileged class depended on its uninterrupted success. This was damaged by the ravages of the Quitan epidemic, the internecine war of succession, and above all by the slaughter in the square of Cajamarca and capture of the Inca. The mass of Andean natives became disillusioned and increasingly indifferent to the fate of the former ruling class. They could not appreciate that Pizarro’s Spaniards represented the vanguard of an invasion that could eventually subjugate them all. So they stood aside, and the Spaniards became aware that the empire’s class distinctions could work in their favour just as much as the family passions of the civil war.

Huascar Inca being led towards Cajamarca by Atahualpa’s generals Quisquis and Chalcuchima

The policy that Atahualpa decided to enforce with all the authority at his command was the fulfilment of the ransom to save his own life. He apparently reasoned that the Spaniards, who had not killed him in the first flush of victory, would abide by their promise to release him when the ransom was collected. He would then be free to enjoy the empire that his generals had just won for him. He therefore issued orders to his commanders to remain at their posts in southern Peru, to expedite the sending of the ransom gold, and not to attempt to rescue him by force. Atahualpa himself was content to exist in his accustomed comfort at Cajamarca while the gold was accumulated.

Very soon after his capture, word came that his brother Huascar was being brought captive from Cuzco and was only a few days’ march from Cajamarca. Pizarro told Atahualpa how much he was looking forward to seeing this rival Inca, and ordered Atahualpa to ensure his safe arrival. The Spaniards thought that they would soon have both claimants to the Inca throne in their possession. Atahualpa was still obsessed with the politics of the civil war and confident that the Spaniards represented no threat of external invasion. So instead of ordering Huascar’s release to organise a national resistance, he thought only of the danger to himself of having his rival in Cajamarca. Huascar was therefore killed by his escort at Andamarca in the mountains above the Santa valley between Huamachuco and Huaylas and not far south of Cajamarca. Atahualpa protested to the Spaniards that Huascar’s guards had acted on their own initiative, and Pizarro accepted this highly unlikely explanation. It was inconceivable that any Peruvians would have dared to kill Atahualpa’s brother without his explicit orders, particularly when they were so close to the Inca’s presence.*

The killing of Huascar gave Atahualpa an immediate personal advantage, and was the culmination of his extermination of the Cuzco branch of the royal family. ‘It was something he was ordinarily accustomed to do to his brothers … for, as he himself said, he had killed many others of them if they followed his brother’s [Huascar’s] faction.’ One of Atahualpa’s favourite possessions was the head of Atoc, one of Huascar’s generals who had imprisoned Atahualpa at Tumibamba and who had been defeated in the first battle of the civil war at Ambato, south of Quito. Cristobal de Mena saw this ‘head with its skin, dried flesh and hair. Its teeth were closed and held a silver spout. On top of the head a golden bowl was attached. Atahualpa used to drink from it when he was reminded of the wars waged against him by his brother. They poured the chicha into the bowl and it emerged from the mouth through the spout from which he drank.’

Atahualpa continued to enforce his triumph in the civil war in other ways while he was at Cajamarca. Pedro Pizarro said that two half-brothers called Huaman Titu and Mayta Yupanqui asked permission of Governor Pizarro to leave Cajamarca for their home in Cuzco. Although they were armed with swords by the Spaniards, Atahualpa sent after them and had them killed on the road.* Two other brothers reached Cajamarca in mid-1533 and one of these was Tupac Huallpa, the man with the best claim to succeed Huayna-Capac now that Huascar was dead. ‘They came very secretly for fear of their brother…. They slept near the Governor because they did not dare to sleep elsewhere’ and ‘pretended to be ill throughout the time that Atahualpa was there, not leaving their room. [Tupac Huallpa] did this from fear that Atahualpa might send to have him killed as he had his other brothers.’

Civil wars breed deep passions and violent hatreds. Atahualpa’s behaviour was understandable in terms of his own claim to rule as Inca, but was a tragedy in the face of the foreign menace. The country was deprived of leadership and unity at the moment when it had greatest need of both. Had the Spaniards arrived a year later they would have found the country solidly ruled by Atahualpa. And, as Pedro Pizarro wrote, ‘Had Huayna-Capac been alive when we Spaniards entered this land it would have been impossible to win it, for he was greatly loved by his subjects…. Also, if the land had not been divided by the wars of Huascar and Atahualpa, we could not have entered or conquered it unless over a thousand Spaniards had come simultaneously. But it was impossible at that time to assemble even five hundred because so few were available and because of the bad reputation of this country.’

Atahualpa once tried to achieve a trial of strength with the Spaniards. He challenged Pizarro to have one of his men wrestle with a gigantic native called Tucuycuyuche. Pizarro accepted, and nominated the tough Alonso Diaz. The Indian warrior arrived naked and with his hair cut short and was at first victorious. But Diaz extricated himself, caught Tucuycuyuche in a murderous grip and strangled him. Indian awe of the Spaniards increased still further.*

It took some time for the gold to be amassed and transported across the empire towards Cuzco. The latter half of November and the month of December 1532 elapsed with little activity beyond the arrival of a load of gold ‘in very remarkable and large pieces, with jars and pitchers of up to two arrobas’ capacity. Some Spaniards whom the Governor had assigned for the task began to crush these objects and to break them so that [the chamber] would hold more. [Atahualpa] asked them: “Why do you do that? I will give you so much gold that you will be satiated with it!”‘ The impatient conquistadores began pestering the Inca to deliver the gold he had promised. He whetted their appetites by describing the treasures of the two great temples of the empire: the sun temple of Coricancha at Cuzco and the great shrine and oracle of Pachacamac on the coastal desert, south of modern Lima. He suggested that Pizarro should send Spaniards to oversee the ransacking of these holy places – Atahualpa himself had probably seen neither temple and could afford to be callous about them. He was more concerned with the worship of his own Inca ancestors, and issued strict orders that nothing connected with his father Huayna-Capac should be touched. His immediate objective was the completion of the ransom which could be achieved only with the inclusion of gold from the temples. Atahualpa may well have feared that the priests of the temples would prefer to hide their treasures than sacrifice them to save a usurping Inca.

Pachacamac was a pre-Inca shrine, so greatly venerated along the coastal plain that the Incas had not dared to tamper with it when they conquered the coast in the late fifteenth century. They incorporated it instead into their own religious canon, building an enclosure for holy women alongside the great step pyramid of adobe bricks. The idol Pachacamac was also identified with the Inca’s own creator god, who had no name but whose titles included Ilya-Ticsi Viracocha Pacayacacic, meaning Ancient-founded Creator Lord, Instructor of the World.

The high priest and the chief of Pachacamac appeared in Cajamarca at the end of 1532. They were given a chilly reception by Atahualpa, who asked Pizarro to throw the priest into chains and taunted him to have his god arrange his release. Atahualpa explained to Pizarro why he was so angry with Pachacamac and its priest. The oracle there had recently delivered three disastrously wrong predictions: it advised that Huayna-Capac would recover from his illness if he were taken into the sun, but he died; it told Huascar that he would defeat Atahualpa; and, most recently, it had advised Atahualpa to make war on the Christians, saying that he would kill them all. Atahualpa concluded that a shrine which was so fallible could contain no god, and Pizarro told him he was a wise man to reach this conclusion.*

The Spaniards waiting in Cajamarca became bored and restive. They were also increasingly nervous about their isolation and anxious lest attacks might be mounted against them. ‘ The Governor kept receiving reports every day that fighting men were coming against him.’ ‘The lord Governor and all of us … saw ourselves in great danger every day. That traitor Atahualpa continually made troops come upon us. They came, but did not dare approach.’ There was a report that native troops were massing at Huamachuco, a few days’ march to the south of Cajamarca. Hernando Pizarro was sent with twenty horse (including the authors Miguel de Estete and Diego de Trujillo) and some foot-soldiers to investigate.* The expedition left Cajamarca on 5 January 1533 but found no hostile troops at Huamachuco. Some Indian chiefs were tortured and said that Atahualpa’s commander-in-chief Chalcuchima was not far to the south with a great army. Hernando Pizarro sent three men back to report to his brother and transport some gold, but ‘on the road a disaster befell them. The companions who were bringing the gold quarrelled over certain pieces that were missing. One of them cut off another’s arm – something that the Governor would not have wished for any amount of gold.’ Francisco Pizarro now gave his brother permission to proceed to the temple of Pachacamac. Nothing more was seen of Chalcuchima’s army, although the small force of Spaniards was apprehensive that he was ‘close by with 55,000 men’.

Hernando Pizarro’s contingent rode on, deep into the Inca empire. They moved up the modern Callejón de Huaylas, with the superb snow-covered peaks of Huascaran and the Cordillera Blanca to their left and the turbulent grey Santa river rushing through its warm canyon below. They were well received in the towns through which they passed, and were able to admire the tranquil efficiency of the country. Hernando Pizarro and Estete both wrote in praise of the suspension bridges, roads and storehouses they passed. They were clearly delighted by what they saw of this strange empire.

Inca Peru was the product of thousands of years of isolated development. It lay along the ranges of the Andes and the bone-dry belt of coastal desert between them and the Pacific. To the west lay the world’s broadest ocean, to the east the overwhelming barrier of the Amazon forests, and to the south the bleak wilds of Araucania and Patagonia. The Peruvians developed a unique civilisation in this vacuum. Recent archaeology has dug back to the remote origins, to a time before the discovery of ceramics or of farming. In the thousands of years since then, Peruvian man had developed his skills in a steady progression, possibly stimulated by infusions of outside talent but most probably in complete isolation. Great civilisations had flourished and gone long before the florescence of the Inca tribe. We know these civilisations only by the names of their most famous archaeological sites, but can reconstruct their way of life from the mass of excavated material. At the time of the golden age of Greece, northern and central Peru were dominated by a culture called Chavin, named after a great stone temple in the hills above the valley being penetrated by Hernando Pizarro’s contingent. Chavin, famous for its fierce, highly stylised representations of baleful pumas and condors, gave way to a series of different cultures in the valleys along the Pacific coast. In the north there was Mochica, a vibrant civilisation about which we know much, for its pottery and textiles have survived in their tens of thousands in dry coastal tombs. Many Mochica pots were effigies, showing with freshness and naturalism the facial types, everyday life, plants, warfare and sexual practices of its people. In southern Peru at this time the Nazca civilisation produced pottery and textiles of supreme beauty.

Mochica, Nazca and many other valley cultures were overcome, in about 1000 A.D., by a civilisation that probably originated at Tiahuanaco, beside Lake Titicaca on the Bolivian altiplano. The type site of Tiahuanaco, with its stone-faced platforms, monolithic statues, and the famous gateway of the sun, was an ancient ruin at the time of the Conquest. The Incas claimed that their tribe had its origins at Lake Titicaca, and they probably learned many of their building and masonry techniques from Tiahuanaco. For a time Tiahuanaco dominated Peru, but its unity gave way to a number of tribal or city states. In the sierra there was a series of powerful tribes – Canari, Chachapoya, Conchuco, Yarivilca, Huanca around Jauja, Chanca at Abancay and Andahuaylas, Inca, the Colla and Lupaca at Lake Titicaca, and many more. But the most sophisticated state was Chimu on the northern coast of Peru. In art it continued, with less brilliance, from Mochica; but in its vast symmetrical cities, elaborate irrigation and defensive works, and political structure, Chimu developed much that was assimilated by the Incas.

What Hernando Pizarro’s men saw as they marched into the Chimu part of the Inca empire was a well-ordered agricultural society. The ordinary Peruvians lived simple peasant lives. They farmed and lived collectively, with no private property, strongly bound to their families and clans, villages and fields. Because of Peru’s isolation, its plants, animals and even diseases were unique, all unknown to the European invaders. The Peruvians had no draught animals to help with their farming. They ploughed with foot-ploughs, long poles hardened at the point and equipped with foot-rests and handles. The men stood in lines to plough, prising up the earth with the poles; their wives crouched opposite, breaking the sod, hoeing and planting. It was a cheerful occasion, with chanting and drunken celebrations. Each month of the year had its tasks and festivities in the agricultural calendar. In January, when Hernando Pizarro rode towards Pachacamac, maize was growing, protected by the farmers and their children from birds and predators. The maize was harvested in May, the most important month of the agricultural year, and in June potatoes and oca (sweet potatoes) were dug from the ground. Although the Spaniards could never have guessed it, potatoes were to be Peru’s greatest legacy to the world. They originated in Peru and grow there in a profusion of varieties and colours. It has been calculated that the world’s annual potato harvest is worth many times the value of all the treasures and precious metals taken from the Inca empire by its conquerors.

The Peruvian peasants lived in simple thatched huts, smoky and smelly, full of guinea-pigs, dogs and fleas. Apart from the guinea-pigs, and occasional dried llama meat or fish, their diet was vegetarian – mostly maize, potatoes or rice-like quinua. Peru is a hard country: most of its level ground is desolate puna, too high for normal cultivation, or the strip of coastal plain where miles of desert separate the river valleys. This desert has formed because the cold Humboldt current runs close to the Peruvian coast and the land is warmer than the sea: moisture is sucked away from the land instead of the reverse. The towering ranges of the Andes rise sheer above the narrow plain and rain-clouds from the Amazon are always caught in the barrier of the sierra. All that is left for normal cultivation and habitation are the river valleys – tight, crumbling canyons in the mountains, or shallow beds of vegetation on the Pacific side. Almost nowhere in Peru are there stretches of rich farming land as found in Europe or North America. To these topographical difficulties are added the relative meanness of natural endowment. Peru had few domestic animals, few crops, and few trees outside the Amazon forests.

The Incas applied their extraordinary organisational genius to overcome these natural deficiencies. The agricultural collectives were organised to build and maintain elaborate terraces, shoring up the hillsides in great flights of rough fieldstone terracing. The water resources of the dry coastal plain were husbanded, and the heavy rains of the sierra were tamed by fine irrigation canals and ditches. The imperial administration kept storehouses full of food and herds of llamas and alpacas, primarily for the use of its own administrators and armies but also as insurance against bad harvests. It moved the rural population to equalise the standard of living throughout the empire, and also to plant colonies of loyalists amid potentially restive tribes.

As a result of this administrative efficiency, and a steady regime of disciplined agricultural labour, the population of the Inca empire flourished. But it lived on a weak diet, badly deficient in proteins: the Indians sadly lacked the milk, eggs and meat of European diet. Their quinua had some protein and so had potatoes (which were dehydrated by freezing and crushing into white meal called chuño); the various plants supplied a reasonably balanced range of vitamins. The natives ate twice a day, in the morning and evening, seated on the ground and eating from bowls. Most of their meals were stews or soups. Anyone now wishing to sample Inca food has only to stay in an Indian hut off the main roads. The wife throws her greens, potatoes and maize into a bubbling pot and ladles this out to her family and guests. Guinea-pigs scurry about and nibble up every scrap that drops on to the mud floor; occasionally they themselves find their way into the brew. Boiled potatoes are handed out with the mud still clinging to them, and boiled or roasted cobs of corn are also eaten in the fingers. Inca households brewed their own chicha, with old women chewing the maize so that their saliva would start the fermentation. It is a pleasant, murky drink like stale cider-not the ‘sparkling chicha’ of Prescott’s imagination. The common people were forbidden stronger alcohol, such as sugar-based spirits, and the chewing of coca was a privilege reserved to the Inca nobility. So everyday life in the Inca empire was that of most peasant communities: a steady struggle for subsistence, punctuated by the religious festivals of the agricultural calendar. The farmers then were little different from the Andean Indians of today: resigned and passive, sturdy and fatalistic. They formed a perfect proletariat, docile, obedient and deeply conservative. Their descendants look impassive, even melancholy, but there is a quizzical almost mocking expression in the faces of the more intelligent. They are handsome people, with lovely copper skin and high Mongolian cheekbones. Their noses are proud and Roman, but their foreheads and chins recede. Andean children are delightful, with bright black eyes and perpetually rosy cheeks. They look sturdy, for the race has evolved enlarged lungs and rib-cages to breathe the thin mountain air.

Ordinary Indians in Inca times wore a standard uniform and were forbidden any variations. They were issued with their clothes from common stores and wore them day and night. When sleeping, the Indians, then as now, removed only their outer garments. Their clothes – one suit for everyday wear, one for festivals – were constantly darned but rarely washed. Men wore a breechclout: a piece of cloth passed between the legs and fastened to a belt in front and behind. Above they wore a white sleeveless tunic, a straight-sided sack with openings for the head and bare arms, hanging down almost to the knees: this gave them the appearance of Romans or medieval pages. Over the tunic they wore a large rectangular cloak of brown wool, knotted across the chest or on one shoulder. The women wore a long belted tunic, rather Grecian, hanging to the ground but slit to expose the legs when walking. This was actually a rectangular piece of cloth wound around the body across the breast, with the ends fastened by pins on each shoulder. It was held at the waist by a broad sash with decorative squares or patterns. Above it the women wore a grey mantle fastened at the breast by a large decorative pin, and hanging behind to the level of their calves. Both sexes went barefoot or wore simple leather sandals bound to their ankles.â€

In their isolated development the Peruvians had evolved many of the attributes of other civilisations: textiles, pottery, dress, metals, architecture, roads, bridges and irrigation. But they had failed to achieve three discoveries that we would regard as fundamental: the wheel, the arch and writing. They used rollers to move vast building blocks, but never invented the wheel spinning on an axis. With no animals as strong as horses or oxen, the Incas had little potential for wheeled vehicles. Peru is such a mountainous country that roads are for ever climbing or descending: Inca transport was all done by human runners and porters, or by columns of llamas carrying light loads. Most of the Andes have been without roads for wheeled traffic until the present century. The mass of superb pre-Columbian pottery was shaped by coiling, in the absence of a potter’s wheel. The lack of the arch and keystone was less serious: the Incas were magnificent masons and could cut fine rectangular lintels. They sloped the sides of doorways and niches inwards, to lessen the distance to be covered at the top. The resulting trapezoidal or sentrybox openings are a hallmark of Inca construction.

The closest that the Peruvians came to writing were mnemonic devices used to record numerical statistics or historical events. The Mochica apparently used bags of marked beans in this way. The Incas had the famous quipus, rows of strings in which the colour of the threads and the loops of the knots represented arithmetical units or recording categories.! The Incas also had a sophisticated system of public record, with a caste of professional historians who handed down verbal traditions, rather like Homeric bards or medieval troubadours. This lack of writing is a terrible handicap to historians of the Conquest: everything is recorded by the pens of Spaniards. Fortunately for us the Spaniards often interrogated Incas about their past, either through official enquiries or on the initiative of individual chroniclers. Atahualpa’s nephew, Titu Cusi Yupanqui, dictated a long narrative which is the only historical record by a member of the Inca royal family. Some chroniclers had Inca mothers or wives, notably Garcilaso de la Vega, Felipe Guaman Poma de Ayala and Juan de Betanzos. Others became expert in the Peruvian language, Quechua, and learned much through friendship with members of the Inca family. A notable chronicler in this latter category was the priest Martin de Murua, whose sympathies were with the Indians and who provided much detail from the Indian side of the decades after the Conquest.â€

Such were the civilisation and people being discovered by Hernando Pizarro’s small expedition in January 1533. It spent fifteen days riding through the mountains, and descended on to the coastal plain for a further week of travel towards Pachacamac. A severe disappointment awaited it at the great temple. As Atahualpa feared, the priests had hidden most of their treasure, if they ever had any. The sanctuary lay at the top of a vast adobe step pyramid, with enclosures at each level. Anyone climbing to the very top was supposed to have fasted for a year, and communication with the oracle was permitted only through the intervention of its priests. The Spaniards strode past the outraged guardians and forced their way straight to the topmost level. Miguel de Estete recalled the anticlimax to their journey. The sanctuary proved to be a small cubicle ‘of cane wattle, with some posts decorated with gold and silver leaf and some woven fabrics placed on the roof as mats to protect it from the sun … Its locked door was closely studded with a variety of objects – corals, turquoises, crystals and other things. This was eventually opened, and we were certain that the interior would be as curious as the door. But it was quite the contrary. It certainly seemed to be the devil’s chamber, for he always lives in filthy places…. It was very dark and did not smell very pleasant. Because of this they brought a candle. And so we entered with it into a very small cavern, which was rough and of no craftsmanship. In the middle a post was planted into the ground with the figure of a man at its head, badly carved and badly formed…. Seeing the filth and mockery of the idol, we went out to ask why they thought highly of something so dirty and ugly.’ As for the communications with the devil, Hernando Pizarro wrote, somewhat hesitantly: ‘I do not believe that they speak to the devil there … for I took pains to investigate this. [There was] one ancient priest, one of those most intimate with their god, who … had said that the devil told him not to fear the horses for they caused terror but did no harm. I had him tortured, but he remained obdurate in his evil sect…. As far as one can see, the Indians worship the devil not from devotion but from fear…. I made all the chiefs of the region come to witness my entry, so that they would lose their fear. And having no preacher, I myself made them a sermon, explaining the deception in which they had been living.’ The Spaniards remained at Pachacamac for most of the month of February, searching in vain for its treasure.† One cannot help being impressed by the audacity and effrontery of Hernando Pizarro and his handful of followers. They blithely overthrew a sanctuary so sacred and venerable that it had been left intact even by the conquering Incas (plate 11). They did so knowing that weeks of difficult marching separated them from their isolated compatriots at Cajamarca.

Atahualpa had originally promised that his ransom would be completed in two months—the time needed to send messengers to Cuzco and to transport the gold from its temples back to Cajamarca. After the initial weeks of delay there was a steady trickle of treasure into the city. ‘On some days twenty thousand, on other days thirty thousand, fifty, or sixty thousand pesos de oro would arrive. [It consisted of] large pitchers or jars of from two to three arrobas [50 to 75 pounds] in size, and large silver jars and pitchers, and many other vessels. The Governor ordered it all to be placed in a building where Atahualpa had his guards….To keep it more safely, the Governor placed Christians to guard it by day and night, and it was all counted as it was placed in the house so that there should be no fraud.’† Atahualpa must have been impressed by all this, and convinced that the Spaniards were taking his offer seriously. Once the storehouse could be filled the Spaniards would presumably depart with their loot, Atahualpa would be released to rule as Inca, and his native army might even annihilate the strangers before they left Peru. He was therefore anxious to complete the ransom, and this depended on the inclusion of the slabs of gold that lined the temple of the sun of Cuzco. One of Atahualpa’s close brothers arrived with a convoy of treasure and reported that much more was delayed at Jauja. He may also have said that nothing had yet been done about stripping the temple of Coricancha. Atahualpa therefore suggested that Pizarro should send some Spaniards to Cuzco to oversee the dispatch of its treasures. Pizarro was reluctant to commit more Spaniards on ventures into the unknown empire, but relented when a messenger arrived from his brother Hernando at Pachacamac. Atahualpa promised to send one of his relatives with any envoys and to order his generals, Chalcuchima at Jauja and Quisquis at Cuzco, to guarantee their safety. Three men finally volunteered: Martin Bueno and Pedro Martin, both from Moguer, and one of the various Zárates in Pizarro’s army.* They left Cajamarca on 15 February 1533. ‘The Governor dispatched them, commending them to God. They took natives who carried them in hammocks, and were very well served.’

The envoys were given a frosty reception by Atahualpa’s general Quisquis, the recent conqueror of Cuzco. ‘He liked the Christians very little, although he marvelled greatly at them…. This captain told them that if they refused to release the cacique [Inca] he himself would go to rescue him.’ Atahualpa’s orders were explicit: the gold was to be stripped from the temple, but nothing connected with Huayna-Capac’s own mummy was to be disturbed. Quisquis therefore sent the envoys to the sun temple Coricancha. They found, as Atahualpa had suspected, that it was still intact. ‘These buildings were sheathed with gold, in large plates, on the side where the sun rises, but on the side that was more shaded from the sun the gold in them was more debased. The Christians went to the buildings and with no aid from the Indians – who refused to help, saying that it was a building of the sun and they would die – the Christians decided to remove the ornament … with some copper crowbars. And so they did, as they themselves related.’ The Spaniards prised off seven hundred plates, which Xerez reported as averaging some 4\ pounds of gold each when melted down. ‘The greater part of this consisted of plates like the boards of a chest, three or four palmos (2-2} feet) in length. They had removed these from the walls of the buildings, and they had holes in them as if they had been nailed.’ The envoys were not allowed to visit the entire city, but what they did see intoxicated them. ‘They said there was so much gold in all the temples of the city that it was marvellous…. They would have brought much more of it if this would not have detained them longer, for they were alone and over 250 leagues from the other Christians.’ They did, however, ‘take possession of that city of Cuzco in the name of His Majesty’. They locked one building full of gold and silver vessels ‘and placed a seal of His Majesty on it and another for Governor Pizarro, and also left a guard of Indians’. They reported seeing one golden sacrificial altar that weighed 19,000 pesos and was large enough to hold two men. Another great golden fountain was beautifully made of many pieces of gold: it weighed over 12,000 pesos and was dismantled for transportation to Cajamarca. The envoys even penetrated a sanctuary containing the mummies of two Incas. An old lady wearing a golden mask was responsible for fanning flies off the bodies. She insisted that the intruders remove their boots before entering. After meekly complying with this formality,’ they went in to see the mummies and stole many rich objects from them’.

Quisquis’s attitude towards the Spanish envoys revealed the dilemma of the Inca’s victorious generals. To save their sovereign’s life they had to co-operate with his kidnappers. And having just completed their triumphant advance to Cuzco, they did not dare to leave their posts to attempt his rescue. Quisquis was occupying Cuzco with an army of 30,000* and the commander-in-chief Chalcuchima was at Jauja, midway between there and Cajamarca, with 35,000.* Other garrisons of a few thousand men were holding strategic centres such as Vilcashuaman and Bombón. To the north, between Cajamarca and Quito, the third commander Rumiñavi was in charge of Atahualpa’s base. His forces had been swollen by the troops sent home from Cajamarca by Pizarro, and he could draw on levies from a friendly population. Rumiñavi was the only commander not occupying a hostile part of the empire: his was therefore the only army with relative mobility.

Hernando Pizarro at Pachacamac was not far from Chalcuchima across the mountains at Jauja. He used native runners to invite the Inca commander to come down to the coast to meet him. Chalcuchima replied that he would meet the Spaniards at the point where their route back to Cajamarca joined the mountain highway, at the southern end of the Huaylas valley. Hernando Pizarro accepted this rendezvous. His force left Pachacamac at the beginning of March but turned inland up the Chincha (modern Pativilca) valley to the large town of Cajatambo at its head. The natives claimed that Chalcuchima had passed through the town on his way to the rendezvous. ‘But since it was believed that these Indians rarely tell the truth, the Captain determined to go out on to the royal road’ which ran from Jauja to Huanuco and thence to Cajamarca by the Maranon route. This involved crossing the desolate Cordillera Huayhuash at an altitude of almost 5,000 metres. ‘The road was mountainous and so covered in snow that we experienced great difficulty.’ ‘The men were very weakened and the horses tired and unshod.’

The Spaniards reached the royal highway at Bombón on 11 March and learned that Chalcuchima was indeed still at Jauja. They moved south-eastwards to reach that city on Sunday the 16th. For all his reckless bravery, Hernando Pizarro was frightened at approaching the headquarters of Atahualpa’s most formidable commander. ‘One of Atahualpa’s chiefs whom I was taking with me, and whom I had treated well, warned me that I should make the Christians advance in formation because he believed that the captain [Chalcuchima] was at war. Climbing a small hill close to Jauja we saw a great black mass in the square, which we thought was something burned. But when we asked what it was they told us it was Indians.” We did not know whether they were warriors or townspeople.’ ‘All the men advanced thinking that we were going to fight the Indians. But on entering the square some chiefs came out to receive us in peace’ and the ominous dark mass proved to be ‘townspeople who had assembled for a festival’.

Hernando Pizarro had gone to Jauja to ‘attempt through sweet talk to persuade Chalcuchima to accompany him to where Atahualpa was’. The tiny force hoped ‘to bring the gold, disperse the army he had, and bring [Chalcuchima] in person for his own good; or if he were unwilling to attack him and seize it’. Without dismounting, Hernando Pizarro asked for Chalcuchima and learned that he had retired across the river from the city. Pizarro had with him one of Huayna-Capac’s sons, possibly Atahualpa’s brother Quilliscacha. This prince was sent to reason with the elusive Chalcuchima. The Spaniards meanwhile cleared the square of natives and camped there with the horses saddled and bridled throughout the night. Pizarro had told the local chiefs that the horses were angry and would destroy any native who blundered on to the square. But nothing can come between Andean Indians and their celebrations: the Spaniards found themselves surrounded by continuous dancing, singing and drinking revels throughout the five days of their stay at Jauja.*

Chalcuchima returned to Jauja with the prince the following morning, riding in his litter and accompanied by a fine retinue. He went to Hernando Pizarro’s quarters and the two leaders had a day of fruitless negotiation. Pizarro tried to persuade Chalcuchima to accompany him to Cajamarca, claiming that Atahualpa wanted his commander by his side. Chalcuchima explained that Atahualpa had sent to order him to stay at Jauja, and he would not move until he received a definite counter-order. If he left Jauja the district would certainly rise behind him in favour of Huascar’s faction. The two sides were still deadlocked when night fell. The Spaniards again spent the night ready for instant battle, while Chalcuchima pondered the arguments that had been put to him during the day. For some unknown reason he decided to give way. Next morning he returned to tell Hernando Pizarro that he would accompany him to Cajamarca, since he was so anxious for him to do so. They would set out in two days’ time, taking a large consignment of gold and silver and leaving Jauja under the command of the prince who had accompanied Pizarro.

Chalcuchima’s decision was a tragic mistake – one of the turning points in the collapse of resistance to the Spanish invaders. Here was the most formidable commander in the Inca empire handing himself over voluntarily into what proved to be captivity. Chalcuchima at the moment of his surrender was a victorious general in the midst of a devoted army. He was almost as big a catch for the Spaniards as the Inca himself had been, for Chalcuchima’s military reputation was already established under Huayna-Capac and might have been great enough for him to lead a united resistance against Pizarro. He was perhaps the only man in Peru with sufficient stature to overcome the hatreds of the civil war – despite his own command of the victorious Quitan army, and despite his part in the execution of Huascar.

What made Chalcuchima change his mind after a day of stubborn debate with Hernando Pizarro? Some Spaniards, with typical self-assurance, thought that ‘this commander was afraid of the Christians, particularly of those on horses’. Hernando Pizarro wrote that ‘in the end, when he saw that I was determined to bring him, he came of his own free will*. But it seems improbable that the Goliath Chalcuchima could have been afraid of Pizarro’s tiny isolated force. Estete admitted that he ‘was so strong in men that he would have caused terrible damage had he launched a night attack on the Christians … Chalcuchima had majordomos responsible for provisioning his army; he had many carpenters doing woodwork; many other aspects of his personal guard and service were on a massive scale; he had three or four porters in his household. In short, he imitated his sovereign in his establishment and in all other respects. He was feared throughout the land, for he was a very valiant man and had conquered on the orders of his lord over six hundred leagues of land. In the course of this he had had many engagements in the field and in difficult passes, and had been victorious in all of them. There was nothing left for him to conquer anywhere in the country.’ ‘This captain had many fine men: in the presence of the Christians he had counted them on his knots [quipus] and had found 35,000 Indians.’

Chalcuchima must therefore have been deluded by Hernando Pizarro’s ‘sweet talk’ to which the native prince added authority. He apparently believed the claim that Atahualpa wanted his general to accompany the Spaniards back to Cajamarca. Possibly he was curious to learn in a personal meeting what Atahualpa really wanted of him and his army, and what attitude he should adopt towards the Spaniards. He may have feared that if any Spaniards were killed in a clash with his army Atahualpa would suffer – although had Chalcuchima captured Hernando Pizarro he might have bargained him in exchange for the Inca. He woefully underestimated the consequences of his action. For by riding out of Jauja with this deceptively small band of strangers he delivered himself into captivity and eventual death.

Chalcuchima arranged for his men to make silver and copper horseshoes for the Spaniards. The journey from Jauja to Cajamarca was an amicable affair during which the Spaniards had the privilege of seeing the country with its greatest general as their guide. Lodgings and supplies for men and horses were on hand at each night’s resting place. There were particularly splendid festivities during the two days that the party spent at Huánuco. The ruins of this city, now known as Huánuco Viejo, lie above La Unión, a remote village on the upper Marañon. They contain superb stonework, and are unique in being the only ruins of an important Inca city to remain untouched by later occupation (plate 10). The tumbled grey stones of the city’s houses and platform temples lie disturbed only by the deterioration of time at the edge of a flat stretch of pale treeless savannah. From Huánuco the travellers rode north through the beautiful country between the eastern slopes of the Cordillera Blanca and the great gorge of the Maranon. This area is not yet penetrated by motor roads, and almost every precipitous hilltop is crowned by the curious ruined towers of the pre-Inca Yarivilca civilisation. It is a sunny place where a traveller rides past hilltop villages and gazes into stupendous valleys dropping towards the Maranon. Chalcuchima had fought his way down this road a few months previously. At one bridge over a difficult canyon he described to his travelling companions how Huascar’s men had defended the position for three days, burning the bridge and forcing his Quitans to swim the river.*

Hernando Pizarro marched into Cajamarca on 25 April after an absence of three months.* ‘The Spaniards came out to meet us with great happiness and rejoicing.’ They had every reason to be pleased: Pizarro may have failed to find much treasure, but he had brought a prize captive. Chalcuchima’s status now changed abruptly. On the journey he had been a companion and a host. He now became a virtual prisoner, with never less than twenty Spaniards guarding him throughout the remainder of his life. His first action was to have an audience with Atahualpa, and the Spanish onlookers were impressed by the protocol observed between the captive ruler and his commander-in-chief. ‘When Chalcuchima entered the doors behind which his lord was imprisoned, he took a normal load from one of the Indians that he had brought with him, and placed this on his back, as did the many other chiefs who came with him. He entered where his lord was, carrying this load, and when he saw [Atahualpa] he raised his hands to the sun to give thanks for having been allowed to see him again. He went up to him with great reverence, weeping, and kissed him on the face, hands and feet, and the other chiefs who had come with him did the same. Atahualpa showed great majesty. He did not look him in the face or pay him any greater attention than he would have paid the humblest Indian who might have come before him – although there was no one in all his kingdom that he loved as dearly.’ ‘The cacique Atahualpa was deeply distressed by the arrival of his commander, but since he was very astute he pretended that it pleased him.’

Now that the Spaniards had Chalcuchima in their power, they began to abuse him. They were convinced that when he conquered Cuzco he must have seized the gold of Huayna-Capac and of Huascar – the envoys had not yet returned to confirm that it was all still in the city. When Governor Pizarro insisted in demanding the gold, Chalcuchima could do no more than protest’ that he had no gold and that they had brought it all’. No one believed him. ‘Everything he said was a lie. Hernando de Soto took him aside and threatened to burn him unless he told the truth. He gave the same answer as before. They then erected a stake and tied him to it, and brought much firewood and straw, saying that they would set fire to him unless he told the truth. He asked them to call his lord. [Atahualpa] came with the Governor and spoke to his captain, who was tied up.’ Chalcuchima explained his obvious danger but the Inca said it was a bluff ‘for they would not dare to burn him. They then asked him for the gold once more and he would not tell about it. But as soon as they set a little fire to him, he asked that his lord should be taken away from in front of him, for he was signalling him with his eyes not to tell the truth. Atahualpa was therefore removed.

‘[Chalcuchima] then said that on the cacique’s orders he had come on three or four occasions with a large force against the Christians. But, as the Christians knew, his ruler Atahualpa had himself ordered him to withdraw for fear that the Christians would kill him…. They then took that Indian captain to the house of Hernando Pizarro and kept a close guard on him. Such a guard was necessary, for the greater part of the army obeyed the orders of this captain even more than they did those of their lord the cacique Atahualpa himself…. And although he was half burned, many Indians came to serve him because they were his servants.’ Hernando Pizarro later testified that Chalcuchima was brought to him ‘with his legs and arms burned and his tendons shrivelled; and I cured him in my lodging’.