On April 18, 1536, the twenty-year-old lord of the Inca Empire and his high priest left Cuzco and headed for the Yucay Valley, carried aloft on royal litters. Not long after they had departed, some of the
yanaconas
—the Incas’ landless proletariat—along with Juan and Gonzalo Pizarro and even some of Manco’s own estranged kin, formed a delegation that visited Hernando Pizarro in his palace. Hernando had made a huge mistake, they informed him. The lieutenant governor must immediately send a force to recapture the Inca emperor. If not, then Manco Inca would return all right—but at the head of a large and hostile army. Hernando—the only Pizarro brother with formal military training, who had fought as a captain
with his father in the Spanish-French wars of Navarre–dismissed their concerns. Manco would return, Hernando said confidently, just as Manco had promised he would. Scanning the group’s anxious faces and shaking his head in derision, Hernando told them that they were all simply afraid of their own shadows. They should go home and stop worrying—Manco Inca would keep his word.
Two days later, a Spaniard arrived in Cuzco who had been surprised to meet Manco and Villac Umu heading into the hills above the Calca Valley and traveling in the direction of Lares, located some fifteen leagues, or fifty miles, from Cuzco. When the Spaniard had asked the emperor where they were going, Manco had replied that they were off to retrieve some gold. To Hernando, the information made perfect sense: Manco had promised that he would bring back a life-sized statue made of silver and gold. Once again, Hernando told his two brothers and the rest of Cuzco’s citizenry to stop worrying. When more days went by with still no sign of the departed emperor, however, fears in the city continued to escalate; knots of worried Spaniards now gathered in the streets, often looking over their shoulder in the direction of the hills.
Finally, on the eve of Easter Sunday, news arrived that Manco Inca had been seen with a large group of native chiefs in the rugged, mountainous region of Lares. The Inca emperor had apparently convened a secret assembly of native chiefs and military leaders from all parts of the empire, the Spaniards were told. Various eyewitnesses, meanwhile, who had been traveling elsewhere in Peru, soon arrived and reported the disturbing sightings of vast numbers of armed warriors, moving from the provinces toward the capital. Manco Inca, it was now obvious to everyone—and that included a chastened Hernando Pizarro—had clearly rebelled. Recounted Pizarro’s cousin Pedro:
Manco Inca took refuge in the Andes, which is a land of enormous, rugged mountains with very bad passes and where it’s impossible for horses to enter. And from there he sent many high-ranking captains all over the realm, in order to gather up all the natives who could fight and who could go with them to lay siege to Cuzco and to kill all of us Spaniards who were there.
After a little more than two years on the puppet
throne, Manco Inca—son of the great Huayna Capac and great-great-grandson of the founder of the Inca Empire, Pachacuti—had formally declared war against the Spaniards. He was now free to devote himself, openly and without further subterfuge, to the extermination of the bearded foreigners who had arrived so brazenly from across the sea.
“The Spaniards in Peru should be made to refrain
from arrogance and brutality towards the Indians. Just imagine that our people were to arrive in Spain and start confiscating property, sleeping with the women and girls, chastising the men and treating everybody like pigs! What would the Spaniards do then? Even if they tried to endure their lot with resignation, they would still be liable to be arrested, tied to a pillar and flogged. And if they rebelled and attempted to kill their persecutors, they would certainly go to their death on the gallows.”
FELIPE HUAMÁN POMA DE AYALA,
LETTER TO A KING
, C. 1616
“So numerous were the [rebel] troops who came here that they covered the fields, and by day it looked like they had spread a black cloth out over the ground for half a league around this city of Cuzco. At night there were so many campfires that it looked like nothing other than a cloudless sky full of stars.”
PEDRO PIZARRO,
RELACIÓN
, 1571
“No enterprise is more likely to succeed than one concealed from the enemy until it is ripe for execution.”
NICCOLÒ MACHIAVELLI,
THE ART OF WAR
, 1521
WHEN MANCO INCA AND VILLAC UMU, RIDING ON THEIR
royal litters, arrived in the Inca town of Lares, Manco was gratified to find chiefs and nobles from across Tawantinsuyu already assembled, having responded to his call for the secret meeting. Each of the four quarters of the empire was represented and most in attendance wore
large earplugs
of gold or silver, as nearly all, save the servants, were nobles of the highest rank. A few individuals wore specially woven alpaca mantles filigreed with gold or silver—the equivalent of prestigious medals received from past emperors for their services. In this small town some thirty miles from Cuzco were now gathered much of the elite that ruled Peru, the high-status individuals who formed part of the governing apparatus the Incas had used to control some ten million commoners.
Native warriors fighting Spaniards on horseback.
Those assembled were well aware, however, that representatives from certain areas of the empire—such as the Chachapoyas and the Cañari from the far northern provinces and many of the ethnic groups from the coast—were entirely missing; these had either sided with the Spaniards and were no longer part of the Inca federation, or else had decided to remain neutral and were unwilling to offer help. Nor were any representatives present from any of the native groups in the region that is now Ecuador, given the recent history of the Inca civil war and of the conquest there. For all practical purposes, the far northern region had been amputated from the Inca body politic. If the remaining empire were akin to a large, loosely stitched patchwork quilt of various ethnicities—with many patches now entirely missing—it was now Manco’s job to use his power and prestige to stitch that quilt back together again as best he could. Manco then intended to utilize every ethnic group under his command to exterminate the Spaniards; he could visit punishment upon those ethnic groups that had sided with the Spaniards later.
As the various nobles chatted with one another and milled about, waited upon by attentive servants, Manco readied himself to inform them about his new strategy—a strategy that would reverse the commands he had been issuing for the last two years. Of great importance to Manco was the presence of the empire’s finest remaining military leaders: Generals Tiso and Quizo Yupanqui, along with several high-ranking captains: his relative, Illa Tupac, and Puyu Vilca. Along with the high priest, Villac Umu, who shared with Manco the dual function of supreme military commander, the entire military staff of the Inca Empire was gathered before him. All would play key roles in the major campaigns to come.
Before the assembled crowd, and in full view of the sacred, white peaks of Canchacanchajasa and Huamanchoque, Manco rose from his low stool, or royal
duho
, to speak. Conversations died as the lean, bronze-colored faces of those assembled turned toward their young emperor
and listened, their golden ear spools reflecting the brilliance of the sun god, Inti. For the first time since he had become emperor, Manco was now free to issue orders without the presence or control of the Spaniards. At twenty years of age, Manco had finally claimed his full birthright as the
Sapa Inca
—the “unique Inca,” or divine king. Looking around at the crowd, Manco spoke:
My beloved sons and brothers, I never thought that it would ever be necessary to do what I am now thinking of doing, because I always thought and felt certain that the bearded people, who you call
viracochas
, which is how I used to call them because I thought they had come from [the creator god] Viracocha, would not … give me grief in all things … But now … I see … they are scheming once again to capture and kill me … And you have also seen how poorly they have treated me and how ungratefully they have thanked me for what I have done for them, insulting me a thousand times over and then seizing me and tying me up by my feet and neck like a dog, and especially after they had given me their word that we had formed a partnership together based upon love and friendship….
I can’t help but remind you of how many times you have asked me to do that which I am now intending to do, saying that I should rise up against them and asking me why I had allowed them in my land. I didn’t think that what is happening now could ever have occurred. [Yet] that’s what’s happened—and because all they want is to persist in angering and tormenting me, I will be forced to do the same with them…. Since you have always shown me so much love and have endeavored to make me happy, let’s all join together and unite as one and send our messengers throughout the land so that in twenty days’ time everyone will arrive in this town, without the bearded ones knowing anything about it. I will send my Captain, Quizo Yupanqui, to Lima, so that the day we attack the Spaniards here he and his men will attack those [Francisco Pizarro and his men] who are there. And together, with [General Quizo] there and ourselves here, we will finish them off to the last man and thus we will end this nightmare that has been hanging over us.
Manco finished: “I am determined to leave no Christian alive in all this land … thus I first want to surround Cuzco. Those of you who want to serve me will have to stake their lives on this [effort]. Drink from these vases only [those of you who will join me] under this condition.”
Immediately after Manco’s speech, servants carried
around two large golden jars of
chicha.
In full view of the sacred
apu
spirits associated with the nearby mountain peaks, each leader now stepped up, one by one, then drank from one of the jars before making an oath, reaffirming his allegiance to the Inca emperor and vowing to exterminate every bearded foreigner in the land. There were no abstentions. Those who had not already done so immediately sent
chaski
runners to their distant provinces, the latter carrying knotted
quipu
cords that bore a message to their sub-chiefs to begin mobilizing all available warriors. Manco Inca, the messages proclaimed, had ordered the extermination of the false
viracochas.
It was time now to prepare for a full-scale war.
In Cuzco, meanwhile, Hernando Pizarro had also called for a meeting. Hernando now finally admitted that Manco Inca had deceived him and was most likely organizing a rebellion. Reports had been coming in, Hernando told the assembled Spaniards, of large movements of native troops in the Yucay Valley, only fifteen miles to the north. The renegade emperor was said now to be headquartered in the town of Calca, overseeing the gathering of native forces. Obviously, Hernando said, he had made an error in judgment in allowing Manco and Villac Umu to leave. Yet there was no time to waste in recriminations, for their very lives were in danger. The most important thing they needed to do was to try to disperse the gathering forces and, if possible, to recapture the emperor. If Manco could be recaptured, Hernando said, then they could force him to end the rebellion. If Manco were not recaptured, however, then they could expect a large native army to attack the city at any time.
Wanting to find out if the reports of nearby troop movements were accurate, Hernando decided to send seventy cavalrymen, led by his twenty-five-year-old brother, Juan, to ride to the town of Calca in the Yucay Valley. Juan’s orders were to scout the area, to search for and to try to recapture Manco Inca, and to disrupt any native forces they happened to find. As Juan’s cavalrymen hurried out into the streets, arming themselves with steel swords, daggers, and twelve-foot lances, they soon began saddling up their horses, no doubt bitterly swearing that the
Inca rebels were so many “dogs” and “traitors.” Church bells of bronze began to clang incessantly in the newly finished church that the Spaniards had hastily erected on top of the dark, immaculately cut gray stones of the Qoricancha, the Incas’ temple of the sun. The air was clear, sharp, and thin, and soon Juan Pizarro and the rest of the cavalry were off, riding their horses out of the city along the road that led northward toward the Yucay Valley, the hooves of their horses clattering on the stone paving as the rest of the worried Spanish citizens stood about, watching their finest forces ride off and thus leaving them unprotected.
Juan and his men quickly made their way up out of the city onto the lip of Cuzco’s valley, then past the giant stone fortress of Saqsaywaman, with its gray cyclopean walls and three towers. It brooded over the city like some strange medieval castle. The men then turned and headed over the green hills that separated the valley of Cuzco from that of the adjacent Yucay Valley. After a ride of a dozen miles, they finally came to the edge of the plateau and looked out over the blue-green Yucay (Vilcanota) River, wending its way in the valley below. The Spaniards reined in their horses, looking down upon a scene they had often gazed at before, but now scarcely believing their eyes. The valley floor that was normally green had somehow turned a beige color—the color of Inca tunics. Masses of native soldiers had appeared seemingly from nowhere, gathering in the valley until they were so numerous that it looked like masses of tiny toy soldiers had been poured out upon the ground. If there had been any question in the Spaniards’ minds that Manco Inca had indeed rebelled, the proof now lay directly before their eyes. Here, in this broad, sunlit valley, the rebellion that for the last few months had been undergoing sporadic outbursts in Peru had now concentrated itself into one massive Inca army. Even worse for the Spaniards was the fact that the army being assembled was presently only a four-hour march from Cuzco.