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Charles F. Walker - The Tupac Amaru Rebellion
Charles F. Walker - The Tupac Amaru Rebellion
Charles F. Walker - The Tupac Amaru Rebellion
Charles F. Walker
TH E BE L K N A P PR E S S OF H A R VA R D U N I V E R S I T Y P R E S S
Cambridge, Massachusetts
London, England
2014
List of Maps xi
knoll where a gallows had been set up. Some of his followers waved a
white flag with a red cross.9 A mestizo read a proclamation in Spanish
and Quechua: “Through the King it has been ordered that there no lon-
ger be alcabala [sales tax], customs houses, or the Potosí mita and that
Don Antonio de Arriaga lose his life because of his destructive behav-
ior.” One witness claimed that Tupac Amaru called Arriaga “harmful
and tyrannical” and pledged to raze “obrajes [textile mills], halt the mita
to Potosí, the alcabala, customs tax, and the reparto de mercancias [the
forced sales of goods], and free Indians so as to live in union and har-
mony with the creoles.”10 Another witness quoted him as saying that
he had “superior orders” to abolish taxes and customs houses, to expel
corregidors and textile mill owners, and that his actions were not against
God or the King; he wanted “Indians and Spaniards” to live as broth-
ers.11 The crowd understood that it was witnessing a momentous event.
Indians heard, in their own language, about the abolition of the forced
sales of goods and the hated labor and sales taxes, and witnessed the
condemnation of the maximum Spanish authority in the region. Mes-
tizos and creoles ner vously wondered whether these seemingly wel-
come changes might lead to turmoil and dangerously independent In-
dians. Spaniards did not fully understand what they were seeing but
feared for their lives.
A town crier led the procession to the gallows, announcing that they
were fulfi lling the King’s wishes and repeating the pledge that customs
houses, alcabalas, and the mita would henceforth be abolished. Tupac
Amaru ordered the town crier to speak in Quechua, a language never
used in official events or in documents.12 The three priests accompa-
nied Arriaga, surrounded by soldiers. Once at the gallows, the soldiers
took Arriaga’s staff from him and forced him to replace his military
uniform with the simple, penitentiary habit of the Franciscan order.
Arriaga’s black slave, Antonio Oblitas, was forced into ser vice as the ex-
ecutioner. On the fi rst try, as he heaved to elevate Arriaga, the rope
snapped and slave and master fell to the ground. Oblitas received sev-
eral ropes to carry out his task and people close to the gallows, some of
them Arriaga’s allies, tugged to strangle him. All commentators noted
the tomblike silence. One witness claimed that some Indians passed by
Arriaga’s cadaver and sneered in Quechua, “Jew, didn’t you used to do
this? [Judio manachu caita rurahux canqui?]13 As would be the case
throughout the uprising, Micaela had an active role. One account men-
tioned that she “surpasses her husband in spirit and malevolence: she
knew all about the execution of Arriaga and despite the weakness of
her sex, she carried out that unjust hom icide, transporting bullets used
by the guards in her shawl.”14
Speculation on why Tupac Amaru and Micaela Bastidas had executed
Corregidor Arriaga circulated like an Andean thunderstorm through the
crowd that fateful November 10 and people have not stopped asking the
question since. Then and today, people gave reasons that range from
the personal (a grudge) to the macropolitical (the weakening of Span-
ish rule). The biography of Tupac Amaru is, of course, central to the
explanation. He had witnessed the worst forms of Spanish exploitation
of indigenous people and found himself increasingly hard pressed to
fulfi ll his duties as intermediary between the Quechua and Spanish
world. José Gabriel’s work as a merchant and muleteer took him through-
out the Andes, while his legal battles to regain a marquisate (a noble
title) had forced him to spend eight months in the viceregal capital of
Lima in 1777, where he made important contacts and gained a deeper
understanding of Peru. He had the respect of Cuzco’s Indians, reasons
to loathe the Spanish, and the experience and worldliness to organize
an uprising.
In broader terms, in 1780 colonial authorities continued to escalate
the Bourbon Reforms, a series of measures that increased taxes and labor
demands on indigenous people while reducing their autonomy. Spanish
reformers sought to restrict the pact created in the sixteenth century
that granted Indians certain rights, including a high degree of cultural
and political autonomy and the control of communal land, in exchange
for subordination and a slate of taxes. They increased labor and tax de-
mands and debated about how (or whether) to assimilate the native
population and convert Indians, a category that implied political and
cultural independence, into Spanish subjects. In practice, this meant that
Indians throughout the southern Andes faced higher and new taxes,
the revival of older and despised practices such as the Potosí mita, and an
assault on their ethnic authorities, the kurakas.
The reforms also sought to reduce the power of the church. Tensions
between secular and religious authorities escalated in the 1770s and
came to the surface throughout the rebellion. Arriaga himself had bat-
tled priests over protocol and fi nances. The fact that Tupac Amaru had
been involved in these events helps explain the rebellion itself and the
sympathy of some priests for the rebellion. Not surprisingly, many par-
ish priests opposed the colonial government’s efforts to control and tax
their parishes. At the same time, dozens of priests remained in their
parishes and fought the rebels “behind the lines,” casting them as apos-
tates and heathens, bolstering royalists’ spirits. The “Catholic Church,”
a term that should not be conceived of in the singular, provided sup-
porters and opponents. The uprising emerged from and brought into
view these and other deep tensions in the southern Andes of Peru.15
By late 1780, Tupac Amaru’s forces had defeated the Spanish in sev-
eral confrontations. He and his followers entered small towns and In-
dian villages to gain recruits and provisions. They sought to kill all cor-
regidors (most, however, fled before the rebels arrived) and to imprison
landowners despised by local Indians. The rebels razed the small textile
mills present throughout the area, which served as virtual prisons for the
Indian workers, distributing the cloth to shocked locals. Tupac Amaru
and other leaders spoke Quechua to the indigenous masses and rumors
spread that he embodied the return of the Incas, as indicated in his name,
a link to one of the last Inca rulers, Tupac Amaru I (1545–1572). A wide-
spread belief in the possible return to Inca rule nourished the uprising.
These assaults were just the beginning; the uprising rapidly spread
across the Andes. The colonial state collapsed in much of the area that
stretched from Cuzco to Puno, near Lake Titicaca in the south, as au-
thorities dared not attempt to collect taxes or enforce the mita. With
the adjoining Upper Peru or Charcas under fire from a coalition of up-
risings often called the Kataristas, and revolts inspired by the events
around Cuzco springing up to the north and south, the Spanish faced
the greatest military challenge since the sixteenth century, with what
became the largest rebellion in colonial history. Although authorities
initially underestimated the uprising, they realized by the end of 1780
that their control of Peru and beyond was in danger.
topics such as prior uprisings in the 1770s, confl ict in towns and cities
far from the Tupac Amaru base in Cuzco, and the history of the textile
mills.17 Two phenomena coincided around 1970 to prompt fascination
with Tupac Amaru and boost the number of studies: the interest in ru-
ral revolts because of the Vietnam War and other anticolonial struggles
and, in Peru, the unique Juan Velasco Alvarado “revolutionary mili-
tary regime” (1968–1975), which cast José Gabriel Tupac Amaru as the
forefather of its revolution and of Peruvian independence from Spain.
It was during those years that the 86-volume Colección documental de la
independencia peruana (1971–1976, originally projected to have 106 vol-
umes) was released and Colección del bicentenario de la revolución de Tupac
Amaru undertaken (the seven tomes were published in 1980–1982). These
provided thousands of pages of transcribed and indexed documentation
on the uprising.18 Nonetheless, despite this outpouring of studies, no
accessible account of the Tupac Amaru rebellion exists in English,
while those in Spanish are outdated and out of print.19
Yet the book is not simply a revised overview, a retelling of a well-
known story with some new citations and documents. It seeks to make
several novel arguments regarding the uprising and to contribute to
broader debates about violence and geography. The first contribution is
seemingly mundane, a question of chronological scope or time frame,
but important. Virtually every study focuses on the period from Arriaga’s
execution in November 1780 to mid-1781, when the Spanish captured
and executed important rebel leaders. The executions are fascinating
and ghastly events that nonetheless serve poorly as bookends or start-
ing and stopping points for an analysis of the uprising. Many of the
most intriguing and influential moments of the rebellion occurred after
April 1781, when Tupac Amaru’s cousin Diego Cristóbal and others
took over the leadership of the rebellion. The uprising became increas-
ingly bloody as it shifted to the south in the area near Lake Titicaca. It
was here that the full force of the rebels emerged as they swept through
the altiplano and linked with insurgents in Upper Peru. Their control of
South America in danger, the Spanish divided between soft- and hard-
liners, with the latter ultimately winning. They imposed draconian mea-
sures against indigenous people that marked the region for decades,
until the wars of independence (1808–1825) and beyond. Only through
an examination of the overlooked events of 1782 and 1783 can the up-
rising and its legacy be understood.20
Equator
COLOMBIA
Quito
ECUADOR
Manaus
a
P E R U
Jaén
Chachapoyas
B R A Z I L
A
Cajamarca
N
Trujillo
D
E
Huaraz
S
10° Huánuco
Cerro de Pasco M
Tarma T
Callao S
Jauja
Lima Huanta
Huancavelica Anta Paucartambo
Cañete Huamanga Pampamarca
(Ayacucho) Cuzco Tinta
Surimana Sicuani
Tungasuca Yanaoca Lake
Yauri
N Juliaca Titicaca Sorata B O L I V I A
Puno Achacachi
Arequipa La Paz
Sica Sica Cochabamba Santa Cruz
P A C I F I C Oruro
Chayanta
Lake
Poopó La Plata
O C E A N Potosí
PARAGUAY
modern borders Tarija
20°°
0 250 miles
0 250 km
Tropic of Capri
corn CH I L E A RG E N T I NA
80° 70° 60°
I also provide the first full portrait of Micaela Bastidas. Authors have
always cast her as an important secondary player, in part because of the
lack of sources to flesh out her character. I have found rich material on
her and place her, as was the case then, in the limelight. Prior to the
uprising, Bastidas was an active partner in Tupac Amaru’s work as a
merchant-muleteer. She collected debts, hired field hands and muleskin-
ners, planned the long journeys to northern Argentina, and represented
Two topics or phenomena form the backbone of this study: violence and
geography. Violence is at the center of any mass uprising and this book
probes why and how people kill. The Tupac Amaru rebellion provides
rich, grim material. Not only did the death count reportedly reach
100,000 (the Viceroyalty of Peru had about 1.8 million people) but the
stories are gruesome. Colonial forces exterminated hundreds of indig-
enous fighters at a time, displaying heads on pikes, while rebels report-
edly committed atrocities including raping dead women, drinking the
blood of the recently killed out of skulls, and throwing children in Lake
Titicaca to drown.
The analysis builds from the argument by Stathis Kalyvas, in his work
on Greek civil wars, that “clearly, the relation between political actors
and underlying populations must be problematized rather than assumed
away.”23 Leaders and followers constantly negotiate the terms of their
relationship and the ways of war. Too many studies of Andean uprisings
have assumed that rebel and royalist fighters followed their leaders
without question; their loyalty is taken for granted or overlooked rather
than scrutinized. I pay par tic ular attention to why and how violence
intensified over time. The initial efforts on both sides to respect those
remaining neutral fell by the wayside and atrocities mounted. The
fighting moved toward a “total war,” in which the limitations on who
was to be attacked and who was to be mobilized disappear.24
Prior to the twentieth century, people followed largely unwritten
rules while conducting war. The understanding of how women and
children should be treated, whether enemy combatants deserved Chris-
tian burial, and whether soldiers merited the right to ransack varied
greatly according to local or imperial military culture and the particu-
larities of the war itself.25 Rules applied, but could change dramatically
in the course of a struggle. This was the case in Peru, where the rebel-
lion quickly pushed its followers and enemies into uncharted territory.
This book sheds light on this new terrain, where restraints or limita-
tions on violence eased or even disappeared.
Colonial authorities had little experience in repressing such a mas-
sive uprising, which eventually stretched across the Andean core of South
America. They did not count on a standing army in Lima or Cuzco and
relied, at least initially, on militias. These had proven adequate in putting
fighters might have understood as the enemy. Across time and space,
this changed. Both sides began to slaughter their opponents and neu-
trality became impossible. By mid-1781, neither took prisoners— they
killed those they captured. In fact, the atrocities began to mirror one
another. Royalists would hang rebels and display their body parts; reb-
els would humiliate and brutalize captives. By late 1781, rebels near
Lake Titicaca reportedly pierced eyes and drank blood out of skulls.
Each side increasingly saw the other as barbarians, as bad Christians,
which justified greater violence.
Violence spiraled out of control because of three overlapping factors:
leadership, chronology, and geography. First, Tupac Amaru and Micaela
Bastidas sought to control their combatants’ aggression. Stressing that
the fight was against evil Spaniards, they protected creoles, mestizos,
and even affluent Indians from rebel wrath. They managed to do this
quite effectively in the core area where they were in charge. When the
rebellion expanded (and, of course, when José Gabriel and Micaela were
no longer the leaders) this proved more difficult, and rebels attacked non-
Europeans. In fact, this aggression broadened from Europeans to all non-
Indians, in some cases. Whereas Tupac Amaru and Micaela Bastidas
protected mestizos and creoles, some rebels in the second phase attacked
people for simply wearing European dress or speaking Spanish. This also
proved true of the royalist commanders—they were less and less capable
of controlling the fury of their followers (or willing to).
Second, as the uprising spread each side abandoned the restraints
that had kept them from killing “civilians,” victimizing women, or ran-
sacking stores and estates. Violence begets violence, and as each side
ramped up the aggression the other acted in kind. The transformation
was not just tactical or a byproduct of the search for revenge. Each side
increasingly envisioned and cast the other as heretics, as fallen Christians
who deserved to die. This ideological transformation justified greater
violence, which in turn reinforced the interpretation of the opponent as
a heathen or barbarian. What began as an uprising developed into a
guerrilla war and then deteriorated into a vicious bloodbath.
Geography or space was the third factor: important changes can be
seen depending on where the fighting took place. As the rebellion’s
center shifted from Cuzco toward Lake Titicaca, the violence worsened.
This has much to do with the time frame outlined above—Tupac Amaru
and Micaela Bastidas could not control their forces and, over time, aggres-
sion accelerated— but also with different populations and their relation
to the colonial state and each other.
In Cuzco, the state and the Catholic Church had a stronger presence
than in the Titicaca area. Tupac Amaru himself had pleaded his case in
the courts, lobbied corregidors, bishops, and patriarchs, and used his
power as a kuraka to improve his lot and that of the Indians he repre-
sented. He had gone to school at the prestigious “School for Kurakas” in
Cuzco’s center and rubbed elbows with people ranging from common
Indians to Cuzco patricians. Demographics (more intermediate groups
such as mestizos) and the economy (more active trade networks) meant
that different ethnic groups knew each other and coincided in daily life
more in Cuzco than in the Titicaca region. This contact or exchange
could, arguably, build bonds and fortify empathy that decreased the like-
lihood of violence. The towns Tupac Amaru represented as a kuraka and
which served as rebel centers—Tungasuca, Surimana, and Pampamarca—
stood just fifty miles from Cuzco. Even the more humble residents took
the much-traveled valley route to conduct business or to visit acquain-
tances in the former Inca capital.
In contrast, the Spanish state and even the Church had a lesser pres-
ence in the south, around Titicaca. These institutions existed to oversee
Spanish rule and the exploitation of Indians. Yet they also could shield
Indians from behavior considered abusive or abhorrent. These “safety
valves” were not as heavy on the ground away from Cuzco, and Indians
and Spaniards had less contact or interaction, helping to explain why
violence was cruder. Indians had fewer qualms about attacking all Euro-
peans, particularly after more than a year of warfare, a point when the
Spanish took no prisoners and assumed all Indians were bloodthirsty
rebels. The Spanish falsely framed this in terms of civilization—the In-
dians of the South were more “savage” or “barbaric.” Instead, southern
Indians had less attachment to the colonial system than their brethren
in Cuzco, yet suffered brutal exploitation. The war itself had erased any
empathy— a key impediment to the use of coercion—the Indian insur-
gents might have had with the Spanish.29
This spatial or cultural argument should not be exaggerated or over-
simplified. The opposite argument may be equally true— a strong (colo-
nial) state presence meant greater exploitation and thus a stronger
likelihood for tension and violence. The city of Cuzco and the surround-
ing area were certainly violent before the uprising. Eminent scholars
(including the tourist mecca Machu Picchu) were barely touched by the
Tupac Amaru rebellion.
Instead, the rebellion stretched from Cuzco to Lake Titicaca. Towns
such as Tungasuca and Pampamarca stand at about eleven thousand
five hundred feet above sea level, ensconced in broad bluffs above the
Vilcanota Valley. These towns benefited from prime agricultural land,
particularly in comparison to the surrounding sheer highlands or punas
that soar well above the tree line. The correctly named “high prov-
inces” or provincias altas just fi fty miles southeast of Pampamarca tower
above fourteen thousand feet. Europeans could not believe that hu-
mans lived there; the area became a rebel hotbed.
As the rebels and the pursuing colonial armies moved from Cuzco
toward the Titicaca basin to the southeast, altitudes became higher, the
air thinner, the valleys narrower, and the hills steeper and more bar-
ren. In the midpoint between Puno and Cuzco, the two Andean ranges
come together in a snowy crag, the La Raya pass. Train riders today,
often dizzied by altitude sickness, crane their neck to peer upwards to
the glacier peaks and typically deem the terrain lunar. From this gate-
way south, into the Titicaca basin, more than thirteen thousand feet
above sea level becomes the norm. Corn does not grow at this altitude
and livestock (cattle, sheep, goats, llamas, and alpaca) rather than agri-
culture drove the economy. In linguistic terms, Quechua, the lingua
franca of the Incas— and today the most widely spoken indigenous lan-
guage of the Americas with over ten million speakers— predominated
in the Cuzco region. Around and to the south and east of the Lake Titi-
caca basin, what is known as the Collao and today is part of Bolivia,
much of the population spoke and speaks Aymara.32 Throughout the
uprising, royalists complained bitterly about the altitude, the precipi-
tous hills and mountains, and Indians’ rejection of the Spanish and
their language. Rebels used all of these to their advantage.
This dichotomy between a European coast (Lima) and Indian high-
lands (Cuzco) should not be exaggerated. The Spanish had a strong
presence in Cuzco (and Indians typically constituted 10 percent of Li-
ma’s population of about 50,000 at this time). With its population of
30,000 in 1780, Cuzco was Peru’s second city, the key administrative
center between Potosí in Upper Peru and Lima.33 The viceregal state
maintained important institutions and authorities there, and over the
centuries thousands of Europeans settled in Cuzco to work as merchants
his time. His contemporaries made clear that he was both and that he took
full advantage of his ability to move among the different social groups of
the period. His economic interests and education made him a member of
the colonial middle class, with ties to the upper and lower classes. He had
close connections with distinguished Spanish and creole residents of
Cuzco such as his friend Gabriel Ugarte, but also was comfortable with
the region’s masses, Quechua-speaking Indians. He spoke both Spanish
and Quechua well, wrote graceful Spanish, and thanks to the Jesuits
knew some Latin. The upper classes in Lima saw him as a well-educated
Indian; some understood this as an acceptable case of social mobility
while others saw it as an aberration and threat to the flexible but ulti-
mately real barriers between caste groups in colonial Peru.
Tupac Amaru and Micaela Bastidas were able to carry out the rebel-
lion because of this ability to move among, gain acceptance from, and
recruit different social groups. They attracted, at least initially, Spanish,
creole, mestizo, black and, above all, indigenous followers. In the midst
of the uprising, however, this balancing act became increasingly diffi-
cult. Europeans quickly became concerned about the use of violence
and the ransacking of estates. Some groups never supported the rebels.
For example, some kurakas, particularly those of the Sacred Valley, saw
him as an arriviste with an unimpressive lineage. They questioned both
his claims to royal Inca blood as well as his economic standing, believ-
ing themselves superior on both fronts.7
Many Spaniards and Creoles scoffed at the notion of a “noble Indian,”
and despite business dealings and even friendship with him, wanted noth-
ing to do with his political project. They rejected his requests for support.
On the other hand, while Indians venerated the couple, some abandoned
the movement or pushed for more radical (violent) actions. Doubts about
the leaders’ revolutionary credentials and opposition to the multiclass al-
liance they sought nourished these desertions and insubordination. In a
society as hierarchical as colonial Peru, coalitions that united racial and
class groups strained from the beginning.
As for Micaela Bastidas, she was born in 1744 in Pampamarca. Some
writers have contended that she was from Abancay, west of Cuzco, but
the archival records confi rm Pampamarca, part of the Tupac Amaru’s
family kurakazgo. When I visited this town in 2007, locals proudly
claimed her as their own and showed where she had lived about a mile
outside of town. They maintained that parts of her house had stood
until recent decades. Her mother was Josepha Puyucahua (look at the
clouds in Quechua) Sisa and her father Don Manuel de Bastidas; they
never married. He died in 1746 and his identity remains unclear. Some
contend that he was a local man with black heritage, inasmuch as a few
documents refer to her as a zamba or one with cinnamon-colored skin,
implying that she had black blood. Others claim that he was a priest,
assigned to nearby Yanaoca.8 Being an illegitimate daughter of either a
partially black father or a priest placed her in an unusual social cate-
gory, particularly in the overwhelmingly indigenous highlands, and
closed doors to her. It certainly excluded her from elite circles. Yet her
wedding certificate listed both her parents as “Spaniards,” a sign of re-
spectability more than birthplace. Racial and class categories in Span-
ish America were quite fluid and someone like Micaela could move
among different sectors comfortably and gain their respect. She had
three brothers, Antonio, Pedro, and Miguel.
Micaela was a devout Catholic throughout her life. She had little
schooling and her Quechua was far superior to her Spanish. In Pam-
pamarca, oral history claims that she was forced to work in an obraje,
the oppressive textile mills. Father Antonio de Sosa married her and
José Gabriel in Surimana on May 25, 1760. They had three children,
Hipólito (born 1761), Mariano (born 1762), and Fernando (born 1768),
all baptized by Father Sosa in Pampamarca.9 The nineteenth-century
English geographer Clements Markham, who knew the Cuzco area well
and wrote widely on the Incas, Quechua, and Andean geography, called
her a “beautiful Indian girl.” He knew this because Dominga Bastidas,
Micaela’s cousin, had survived the uprising and, fi fty years later, de-
scribed her beauty to General John Miller, who was in Cuzco in 1835.
Miller then relayed the description to Markham.10
Micaela was a full partner in José Gabriel’s enterprises. While he was
away in Lima or elsewhere, she managed his business and kuraka af-
fairs, overseeing tax collection and the labor draft and supervising the
men who stepped in for him in his work as a merchant. This helps ex-
plain how she proved to be such an exceptionally able leader of the re-
bellion. She excelled at paying the troops, managing supplies, keeping
discipline, posting sentinels, and watching for spies— all of the intricate
logistics that make up military campaigns. Her proficiency brings to
mind the military axiom, “amateurs talk about strategy, professionals
talk about logistics.” Even before the uprising, she displayed her strong
nature. One tithe collector claimed that in front of the corregidor Mi-
caela had threatened to “punch him” if he did not relent.11 Her work as
Tupac Amaru’s partner in his political and economic endeavors pre-
pared her well for the uprising.
Micaela’s prominence in the uprising was not a shocking reversal of
gender roles in the Andes. Women participated actively in the cash econ-
omy, particularly in the sale of produce, livestock, and other goods in mar-
kets and fairs. They frequently managed the household economy. Men
believed themselves the representative of the family and saw themselves
in charge. Domestic violence, frequently fueled by alcohol, was rampant.
Nonetheless, women were usually significant partners in the large,
extended families that characterized the period, and led the household
if males weren’t present. In the case of the Condorcanqui-Bastidas
household, Tupac Amaru no doubt spoke for the family and believed that
he had the final say. But, as would occur in the rebellion, Micaela Basti-
das helped make decisions and run the household economy.12
Although Spaniards burnt the portraits of Tupac Amaru that he com-
missioned during the rebellion, we have several descriptions and one
painting. Markham reproduced one royalist’s recollection:
Tupac Amaru was five feet eight inches in height, well proportioned,
sinewy, and fi rmly knit. He had a handsome Indian face, a slightly aq-
uiline nose, full black eyes, and altogether a countenance intelligent,
benign, and expressive. His address, remarkable for gentlemanlike
ease, was dignified and courteous toward superiors and equals; but in
in his intercourse with the aborigines, by whom he was profoundly
venerated, there was sedateness not inconsistent with his legally-
admitted claims (de jure) to the diadem of the Incas. In mind he was
enterprising, cool, and persevering. He lived in a style becoming his
rank, and, when residing at Cuzco, usually wore a black velvet coat and
small-clothes in the fashion of the day, a waistcoat of gold tissue, em-
broidered linen, a Spanish beaver dress hat, silk stocking, and gold
knee and shoe-buckles, and he allowed his glossy black hair to flow in
ringlets which extended down nearly to his waist.13
outsiders in the position. José Gabriel had fought to assume the kuraka-
zgo that his father had held, succeeding in 1766. Yet in 1769, authorities
in Cuzco took the position away from him, only to return it in 1771.
Confl icts with successive corregidors of the Tinta province, Gregorio de
Viana and Pedro Muñoz de Arjona, prompted these setbacks. In 1768,
Tupac Amaru took Geronimo Cano, a tax collector, to court for his abu-
sive behavior in the forced sale of goods to Indians. This very well might
have hurt his efforts to reclaim the kuraka position.20
Tupac Amaru heard complaints and pleas for help from Indians forced
to buy overpriced goods under the reparto who then scrambled to pay
the head tax and other obligations with the scarce cash that circulated
in indigenous society. He witnessed groups of men and their grieving
families, who generally accompanied the men, leaving for mita work at
the Potosí mines, no one sure that they would return due to the cost of
the journey and the danger in the mines. The new trade policies, which
facilitated the arrival of goods from Buenos Aires and Spain to Upper
Peru, made his work as a merchant-muleteer in the Potosí circuit less
profitable. Like many, he despised the new customs houses installed
under Visitador Areche’s watch. Tupac Amaru had witnessed the erosion
of creoles’ power, the decrease in Indians’ autonomy, and the weakened
position of the Church. He butted heads with Spanish authorities, par-
ticularly the autocratic corregidors and their henchmen who were in
charge of implementing these new policies. Tupac Amaru had objected
to the exploitation and abuse of Indians and, of course, despised the
efforts to replace ethnic kurakas with Spaniards or creoles.21 The Bour-
bon Reforms, as they would later be known, were not an abstraction
for Tupac Amaru and the indigenous people of southern Cuzco; they
were a daily grievance, corroding their social, political, and economic
standing.
Tupac Amaru had an extended battle in the Cuzco courts and then
Lima’s Real Audiencia or high court with don Diego Felipe de Betancur
over which of them was the legitimate descendent of the last Inca, Tupac
Amaru I, and thus entitled to the marquisate of Oropesa, a rich fief dating
from the seventeenth century. Tupac Amaru I had led the final stages of
Inca resistance in Vilcabamba, the lush area toward the Amazon basin.
The Spanish captured him in 1571 and beheaded him the following year.
Tupac Amaru claimed that he descended from Juana Pilcohuaca Coya,
the illegitimate daughter of Tupac Amaru I, who married Diego Felipe
In the 1530s, the Spanish created Lima or “The City of Kings,” as it was
also known, to anchor and represent Spanish power in the still Inca-
dominated Peru. The city and its nearby port, Callao, served as the po-
litical and economic center of the Viceroyalty. Home to the viceroy, the
archbishop, the principal religious orders such as the Jesuits, Francis-
cans, and Dominicans, and the aristocracy, in 1780 it had a population of
about 50,000. Indians made up about 10 percent of the city, ranging
from workers in the eastern “Indian district” to kurakas such as Tupac
Amaru conducting business in the capital. Spaniards, blacks, and multi-
racial groups constituted the bulk of the city’s population. The city’s ar-
chitecture and active court life impressed Europeans; eighteenth-century
travelers also commented, usually with disdain or even fear, about the
city’s multihued population and its disobedient ways.24
During his year in Lima, José Gabriel stayed in a second-story room
on Concepción Street, in front of the Concepción Monastery, three blocks
from the Plaza Mayor, the city’s center. His room became the meeting
place of malcontents, mostly from Cuzco, such as Father Vicente Cen-
teno and the mestizo Miguel Montiel y Surco from Oropesa, a town be-
tween Cuzco and José Gabriel’s home base. Montiel had traveled
throughout Peru, visited England, France, and Spain in the 1760s and
1770s, and greatly admired the English. As a merchant in Lima, he had
a small stand in the “Street of the Jews” next to the Plaza and according
to one testimony in his trial for sedition, Montiel maintained that the
Spanish occupation of Peru was illegal, that Tupac Amaru should replace
iver
Rimac R
The Viceregal
Palace
Cabildo
PLAZA
EL CERCADO
MAYOR
Cathedral
Andrés and Mariano’s
Tupac Amaru’s lodging in 1782
CO
NC
lodging in 1777
EPC
IÓN
city wall
0 1/4 mile
0 1/4 km
Colonial Lima
the king and take the throne, and that “if Indians weren’t enough to
expel the Spanish, the English, who have a superior government, will
help.” He was a fervent reader of Garcilaso de la Vega’s Royal Commentar-
ies of the Incas, the fundamental text for the rebels.25
Born in Cuzco in 1539, the offspring of a conquistador, Sebastián
Garcilaso de la Vega y Vargas, and an Inca noblewoman, Palla Chimpu
Ocllo, Garcilaso de la Vega became a leading figure in Spain’s golden
era of literature. He lived with his mother in Cuzco in his early years,
learning Spanish and Quechua and imbibing vivid stories of the Incas
and the still unfolding Conquest. His was not a story, however, of mestizo
bliss. His father married a noble Spanish woman and passed on Chimpu
Ocllo to a Spanish foot soldier. Garcilaso decided to use a 4,000-peso
inheritance upon his father’s death in 1560 to travel to Spain. Living in
Montilla and Córdoba until his death in 1616, Garcilaso fi nally pub-
lished his epic Royal Commentaries (Comentarios Reales de los Incas) in 1609
(part 2, General History of Peru, was published posthumously, in 1617).
Garcilaso presented the Incas as dignified, accomplished rulers who
had conquered and even civilized a vast territory. While historians ques-
tion many of his arguments, readers appreciated his lively prose and bold
depiction of the Incas and the Conquest.26
Published in numerous editions, the book circulated widely in
eighteenth-century Peru, nurturing Neo-Inca nationalism.27 José Gabriel
had the education to capture all the nuances of this literary work. He
no doubt appreciated the romantic depiction of the Incas and read with
horror about the betrayal and execution of his ancestor, Tupac Amaru:
“So ended the Inka, the legitimate heir to the empire by the direct male
line from the fi rst Inka Manco Capac to himself.”28 One source claimed
that during the uprising, José Gabriel “nourished himself with daily
readings of the historian, Garcilaso.”29 Garcilaso de la Vega (often called
“El Inca” to differentiate him from another writer) provided José Ga-
briel and others readers a rousing portrait of the grandiose Incas, cast-
ing them as worthy rivals, respectable monarchs who perhaps deserved
a renewed opportunity to lead the benighted Andean people. “El Inca”
Garcilaso tells particularly moving stories of how different Incas such
as “Maita Cápac, the fourth Inca, conquers Tiahuanaco” (book 3, chap-
ter 1) and about other successful campaigns to the south. As will be
seen, these stories of southern expansion would inspire and influence
Tupac Amaru.
José Gabriel met with many dissidents in Lima. Francisco Pineda, a
tamale and pastry vendor identified as a young black man, recalled hear-
ing spirited conversations about “how the reparto oppressed Indians”
when he made his deliveries to Concepción Street, and that corregidors
and their tribute or head tax demands “didn’t leave the poor enough to
maintain their wives and children.”30 Pineda noticed that Tupac Amaru
was ill with tertian fever, malaria, and understood that doctors told
him he would die if he did not get out of Lima. Prosecutors later claimed
that Tupac Amaru met with dignitaries in Lima, including “men of let-
ters,” who encouraged him “to get on with the uprising.”31 According to
that the legal system offered little hope for improving the lot of the In-
dians he represented. The long trip to Cuzco gave him plenty of time to
mull over his frustrating defeat. He met with disgruntled Indians in
Huarochirí, just outside of Lima, a region that had risen up in arms before
and would do so again.34 His anger with the Spanish and his willing-
ness to be seen as an indigenous leader and even the savior of his peo-
ple were on the rise.
Foreshadowings
In the months and years after the uprising, prosecutors scrutinized all
of Tupac Amaru’s activities from 1777 until his death, seeking to dis-
cover how long he had planned the uprising and with whom. They
recognized that as kuraka Tupac Amaru had defended his Indians with
growing passion and had met with a variety of people. The image of
him as an Inca royal destined to represent his people began to take root
throughout Cuzco, in other Andean areas, and even in Lima. Conspira-
cies and revolts in Cuzco as well as Tupac Amaru’s actions foreshad-
owed the violence of the 1780s. In hindsight, investigators wondered
how they could not have seen the rebellion coming and why they had
tolerated Tupac Amaru’s increasing belligerence.
Visitador General Areche arrived in Peru in 1777. Born in 1731 near
Santander, Spain, Areche had studied law and received his fi rst appoint-
ment overseas in the Philippines in 1765. He worked closely with José de
Gálvez, Mexico’s first Visitador General. Both clashed with viceroys, who
saw them as uncouth interlopers with no sense of local reality. The
viceroys, up until this point the maximum representatives of the king
in the Americas, disliked the visitadors’ heavy-handed implementation
of the administrative changes, which they knew sought to undermine
their own power. The visitadors, in turn, saw the viceroys as second-
rate bureaucrats who were too corrupt or too lazy to implement changes
that sought to wrest power away from creoles. Gálvez and Areche
shared a great impatience and even disdain for the residents of Spanish
America. They worried that Spaniards who resided in the Americas
had been corrupted by local society, and they mistrusted creoles, whose
loyalties were not necessarily aligned with Spain. They doubted that a
fi fth-generation creole, say, appreciated and understood Spain. The vis-
itadors also disliked the multiethnic lower classes, questioning their
had been lost. The Justicia Mayor or local judge of Tinta accused José
Gabriel of detaining and whipping prisoners in his house and calling
for all Spaniards to get out of town. One witness warned, a year before
the uprising, that “it’s not good to have Tupac Amaru around here as
the Indians are very restless due to the news he’s spreading.”42 Some-
one else accused him of meeting with a group of unhappy Indians from
Sicuani in his role as “the last Inca of Peru” to hear their complaints. In
the late 1770s, José Gabriel increasingly stressed his Inca lineage and
the term “the last Inca” surfaced.
Others charged him with whipping “Spaniards with white faces” and
demanding that mestizos not from the region—that is, mestizos forasteros—
leave the province. Esteban Zuñiga, the tithe collector of the Azángaro
province and a resident of Pampamarca, complained that Tupac Amaru
always had disliked and mistreated him. They had once bickered over
some land and had come to blows when Tupac Amaru brought Micaela
Bastidas’s aunt to town for some type of punishment, kicking her and
pulling her hair. When Zuñiga intervened, Tupac Amaru hit and kicked
him. Zuñiga claimed that Tupac Amaru consistently behaved as though
he were the sole authority in town, whipping and imprisoning people
at his whim, and acting with hostility toward mestizos and Spaniards.
The local judge subsequently called Tupac Amaru in for a meeting. The
kuraka, however, brought a letter of support from Pampamarca’s priest,
Antonio López de Sosa, and no punishment followed. Years later, 1785,
when the newly named president of the Cuzco Intendancy, Mata Lin-
ares, reviewed this case, he seethed over how officials had missed so
many signs of serious trouble brewing: “this inattention caused so
much misfortune, set the state so far back that we can’t even calculate
it.” 43 Mata Linares ranted for paragraphs about this lost opportunity to
stop the rebellion before it began.
These small conspiracies in Cuzco and Tupac Amaru’s truculent be-
havior were not the only antecedents. In the late 1770s people organized
and rioted in different Andean cities and towns such as Cochabamba, La
Paz, and, closer to Cuzco, Maras, over the implementation of the tax re-
forms imposed by Visitador Areche. The turmoil did not begin with Ar-
riaga’s execution. In 1780, Arequipa and Cuzco witnessed anti-Spanish
disturbances. On January 1, 1780, satirical posters appeared on the ca-
thedral door in Arequipa that ridiculed the Spanish and threatened the
administrator of the new customs house. On January 5, another one
The Church
Events in early 1780 in the towns that rose above Tinta and Tupac
Amaru’s base brought to the fore the explosive tensions that marked
relations among civil authorities, members of the church, kurakas, and
the Indian masses. In livestock towns such as Yauri and Coporaque,
where sheep, llamas, alpacas, and cows grazed in the narrow valleys
and steep hills and where Indians worked primarily as shepherds, the
joint church-state governance system shattered, disrupting the fragile
alliances and understandings that held society together and mitigated
violence. The classic eighteenth-century clash between state and church
lay behind the confrontation. Nonetheless, the battle over the state’s
effort to control the church, and the bishop’s maneuvers to manage his
heterogeneous and distant flock, can only be understood in the context
of the local culture and economy.
The story is not simple. In 1779, Cuzco’s Bishop, Juan Manuel Mos-
coso y Peralta, asked all priests along the Royal Highway to present
detailed summaries of the state of their parishes. Bishop Moscoso would
become a leading figure in the Tupac Amaru rebellion and its long after-
math. Born in the southern Peruvian city of Arequipa in 1723 to aristo-
cratic parents, he studied in Lima and Cuzco and was married in 1748.
His wife died three years later in childbirth, their newborn son days
afterwards, causing Moscoso to rethink his plans to take his place along-
side his father as an Arequipa patriarch. Instead, he petitioned to become
a priest. He worked his way up the clerical hierarchy, in Moquegua and
then Córdoba (in what became Argentina), and in 1779 became the
bishop of Cuzco. Several characteristics stand out in his long career: the
use of his considerable wealth for the social work and art of the church;
his frequent spats with authorities; and his taste, according to salacious
accusations, for women, married and single, young and old.50 He and
Corregidor Arriaga had taken a dislike to each other before Moscoso’s
arrival in Cuzco and his nomination had irritated some Spaniards, who
expected a peninsular rather than a creole for the prestigious position.51
His 1779 request for reports from the parishes along the Royal High-
way sought to monitor the priests’ actions and to gain a share of the
revenue they earned from the ser vices they offered to parishioners and
the rental of church land. The bishop’s defenders claimed that he sought
to protect Indians from excessive fees and duties while watching over
the moral activities of his flock, while critics argued that he was simply
trying to extract more revenue from an impoverished area. Parish priests
responded slowly or not at all to his requests and so, in mid-1780, Mos-
coso sent father Vicente de la Puente, the priest of Coporaque, to inves-
tigate father Justo Martínez of Yauri, accused of improperly controlling
vast amounts of land. After weeks of recriminations, tussles, and riots,
the sides were set. On one side stood Moscoso and Puente, who saw the
locals as uncooperative at best and corrupt and belligerent at worst, and
on the other side were Corregidor Arriaga and his allies, the kuraka
Eugenio Sinayuca, the disobedient Martínez, and other powerful lo-
cals, who saw Moscoso as a meddling outsider who sought money from
their poor district. The church, as always, was divided; priests can be
found on both sides.
In July 1780, Moscoso excommunicated Arriaga. Arriaga’s nephew
and assistant, Eusebio Balza de Verganza, who for years accused Mos-
coso of supporting Tupac Amaru and wreaking havoc, called this “the
most famously scandalous case this Kingdom has ever seen” and deemed
it proof of “the lack of respect priests have for authorities and their con-
tinual insults.”52 Arriaga himself retaliated by sending a secret report to
Viceroy Guirior that implicated Bishop Moscoso in the Silversmiths’
Conspiracy (also called the Farfán de los Godos uprising) in early 1780,
a reaction to the newly established customs house in Cuzco.53
The all-powerful Visitador General Areche seemed to support Mos-
coso and Puente at one point, sharing their disdain for corregidors and
kurakas. Puente accused Arriaga of numerous illicit profiteering schemes,
while the corregidor countered that Father Puente was not only living
sinfully with Maria Josefa Alarcón and their children but that he also
tyrannized and exploited local Indians. Arriaga charged that, “Puente
and other ecclesiastics have shaken up local Indians,” and blamed them
and above all their superiors (namely Bishop Moscoso) for disturbances
in Cuzco and Arequipa along with the uproar over taxes.54 As was so
often the case, accusations about money quickly turned to those in-
volving sex and scandalous lifestyles.55 Moscoso was forced to rescind
Arriaga’s excommunication in September.
The conflict simmered until November when the execution of Ar-
riaga galvanized Europeans and put on hold this and other local strug-
gles. Throughout these disputes, both sides worried that the conflict
could lead to broader indigenous uprisings, but blamed the other side and
refused to relent. In witnessing this infighting among Europeans, the
indigenous population gained an anticlerical and anticorregidor vocabu-
lary. If all revolutions require a prior partition of the upper classes, this
was it, although in a microregional context. Pushed to the side with
Arriaga’s execution in November, the confl ict smoldered for years. Ar-
riaga’s nephew, don Eusebio, relentlessly accused Puente and Moscoso
Preconditions
ans around were becoming less subservient or about the ensuing pun-
ishment and repression from the colonial state. With a few exceptions,
Spaniards not singled out by the rebels paid little attention to Tupac
Amaru’s assurances, and understanding the danger, made plans to flee.
In the early weeks and months of the uprising, November 1780, the
organization, unity, and rapid growth of the movement shocked the
southern Andes. At the same time, the obstacles Tupac Amaru and Mi-
caela Bastidas faced in maintaining a united front and creating a cohesive
anticolonial program came to the surface. Continuing with the questions
of rebel support and how they organized themselves, I examine the
rebel camp in the town of Tungasuca. Par tic ular attention is paid to the
mystery surrounding a group of European prisoners who passed over
to the rebels. Their “captivating stories” demonstrate the challenge in
constructing a multiethnic movement.
Sources used to interpret the uprising include correspondence, ex-
tensive trials against major participants, accounts written in the after-
math, and documentation that, while not focused on the uprising per
se, sheds light on the context or specific individuals. All of this is in
Spanish and the majority comes from the Spanish perspective. In some
cases, multiple sources on a key moment can be contrasted in order to
present the most plausible course of events and to highlight how differ-
ent people or groups understand them. In many other cases, however,
a single letter or brief testimony is all there is, forcing speculative inter-
pretations. In terms of the quantity of available material, the archives
reproduce the social pyramid—much more is written about educated
Europeans and the rebel leaders than about the mostly illiterate indig-
enous followers and the black royalist soldiers. In fact, the sources almost
never name common fighters. Even if deemed heroic or blamed for an
atrocity, they remain anonymous. This book uses the tidbits or fragments
about Quechua-speaking rebels, the female camp aides, and the foot sol-
diers to tell a broad, social history.
Stream of Followers
Urubamba
Urubamba
Calca Paucartambo
Vi l c a b a m b a
Pisac
Cuzco
Caicay Ocongate
Urcos
Paruro Ausangate
Cotabambas
Rondocán Quiquijana
Acos Acomayo
Tambobamba Accha Pitumarca
Sangarará Checacupe
Pampamarca
Combapata
Surimana
Tungasuca Tinta
Colquemarca
Yanaoca Sicuani
Livitaca
Ap
urim a c R
Yauri
Coporaque
Ayaviri Azángaro
Pucará Pupuja
Cailloma
Lampa
Lake
Juliaca Titicaca
Condesuyos
Chuquibamba Puno
over 6,000m
4,000–6,000m
500–4,000m
Arequipa 0–500m
lake
0 25 miles
Pacific 0 25 km
Ocean
4,500 m
Cailloma
3,750 m Yauri Yanaoca
Sangarará
3,000 m Cuzco
Calca Urubamba
2,250 m Arequipa
1,500 m
750 m
0m
150 km 300 km 450 km 600 km
two reales (one-fourth of a peso) per day for Indians and four reales
(half a peso) for Europeans.9 In the coming weeks he used the mill’s jail
for his prisoners.
One astonished observer, Isidro de Montecinos, a salesman from
Cuzco, could not believe the size of Tupac Amaru’s following. He claimed
that the rebel leader left Pomacanchi at three or four p.m. and that “a
rope-like stream of followers” continued well into the night. He calcu-
lated that the columns stretched over seven miles, and included Indi-
ans, mestizos, and Spaniards. Montecinos reported that the Indians
had slings, lances, and sabers and that they were hugging one another
in joy, proclaiming that forced labor and their suffering had ended.10
Tupac Amaru’s main objective, the corregidor Fernando Cabrera, evaded
the fi rst wave of rebels by hiding in a chapel and fled Quiquijana two
hours before Tupac Amaru arrived, indicating the rapid spread of news
or rumors. The rebels destroyed another mill, distributing the cloth and
wool among themselves. They would ransack at least two more in the
following days.11
Don Joseph Alvarez y Nava, a post-office administrator en route to
Lima with satchels of mail from Cuzco, stumbled upon the rebel forces
in Quiquijana. He noted that the “hills were teeming with Indians” and
in town “armed men, mestizos and Spaniards, were taking orders from
their cacique don Joseph Tupac Amaro . . . who was distributing Cabre-
ra’s goods to the sound of drums. The Corregidor had fled to Cuzco.”12
Alvarez y Nava rushed to the priest’s house, where he met a Franciscan
friar and four other priests. They were in shock, even more so when
Tupac Amaru walked into the room. The rebel leader treated them
courteously and granted Alvarez y Nava permission to continue with
his parcels because the rebellion “did not seek to harm anyone or any-
thing, including royal paperwork and fi nances.”
It’s surprising that Tupac Amaru did not confiscate the bundles, to
prevent information about his uprising from reaching Lima and to fi nd
administrative secrets.13 When Tupac Amaru left, another priest came
out of hiding. The diligent postman asked the priests what he should do
and they gave him different opinions—leave the bags and return to
Cuzco or continue to Lima with Tupac Amaru’s permission. Alvarez y
Nava started toward Lima and witnessed Indians ransacking obrajes in
Checacupe, where about twenty-five Indians detained him. They sent a
query to Tupac Amaru who instructed that he be freed. At this point
Alvarez y Nava took fl ight to Puno, where he wrote to the viceroy about
his adventure.14 His story captures the initial uncertainty about the up-
rising as well as Tupac Amaru’s efforts to gain the support of or at least
mollify members of the Church.
On his return to Tungasuca, Tupac Amaru continued to recruit allies,
intimidate enemies, and gather supplies. In the small town of Guaro, af-
ter services in the town church with the two priests who accompanied
him (those of the town had fled), Tupac Amaru gathered local Indians
and his entourage in the cemetery. He declared that they “didn’t even
know who God was, that they were following false Gods, those of the
thieving corregidors and priests.” This argument, that incessant exploi-
tation by Spaniards impeded Indians from developing true faith, be-
came a leitmotif of the uprising. The rebel leader promised to remedy
this situation and to do away with repartos, the sales tax, the Potosí
mita, payments to priests, and customs houses. He pledged that Indians
would be free and only have to pay the head tax to him.15 With this
speech, Tupac Amaru cast his uprising as a defense or liberation of in-
digenous Catholicism. Nonetheless, although he, Micaela Bastidas, and
other leaders as well as the bulk of his followers proved to be devout
Christians who venerated the Church, the uprising’s opponents cast
them as church-burning heathens, a label that proved difficult to shake.
In this journey back to the base, Tupac Amaru sent his son Hipólito
and his much trusted brother-in-law Antonio Bastidas ahead to make
sure that the route was clear of soldiers and that his Indian supporters
did not pillage. They also obtained or expropriated supplies. Although
the uprising had spread quickly, without a hitch, they understood that
an encounter with a small group of well-armed enemies could be the
end.16 In Andahuaylillas, priests met him on the stairs that lead up to
the town’s spectacular church. After he kissed the cross and prayed at
the main altar, Tupac Amaru descended to the adjoining cemetery where
he made a rousing speech that again called for the elimination of the
reparto, mills, and corregidors and called on the town’s people to sup-
port him.17 One priest, however, Martínez Sánchez, wrote him a letter
questioning whether the Crown had actually sanctioned his activities.
Tupac Amaru answered sharply, ending his letter on this ominous
note: “I can see that you have a great deal of affection for the thieving
corregidores, who, with no fear of God, imposed unbearable work on
the Indians with the reparto, robbing them with their long fi ngers.
Some priests collaborated with them and they will be expelled from
their jobs as thieves, and then they will know my power.”18
This initial foray to nearby Quiquijana set the tone for Tupac Amaru’s
military activities in late 1780. He and a large group of followers— the
vague but imposing figure thousands is often used—would enter a small
town and assemble the population. Tupac Amaru would demand that
everyone gather—not difficult due to the excitement of most people as
well as the inability of most Spaniards and other prominent people to
hide— and explain his enterprise in Spanish and Quechua. Indians from
adjoining communities and villages would participate and, if con-
vinced, join the uprising. November is the early part of the rainy season;
agricultural tasks were at a minimum, making it easier for peasants to
leave their fields. He opened jails, burned gallows, ransacked textile
mills, and declared the abolition of the sales tax, reparto, and the mita,
and the end of corregidors. This was his stump speech. For Indians,
these were wildly popu lar and deeply symbolic actions. In the Andes
under Spanish colonialism, powerful individuals used jails, gallows,
and mills to exert their seemingly inescapable power over Indians while
authorities, in cahoots with locals, took advantage of forced sales and
the head and labor taxes to exploit and control the indigenous pop-
ulation and to make money. Coercion and colonialism went hand in
hand.
In these initial weeks, Tupac Amaru repeated in his speeches and
memos the essence of his economic program: the abolition of the mita,
the reparto, sales taxes, and customs houses. He stated that he would
maintain the head tax and rarely mentioned fees destined to the church.
To the great satisfaction of the Indian masses, he spoke to them in Que-
chua. He allowed his troops to ransack the property of corregidors and
unpopular Spaniards but sought to limit the damage on other estates. He
did not consider all haciendas and hacendados evil, worthy of rebel wrath;
some of his more radical followers did. Beyond these negative measures—
the banning of unpopular colonial impositions that had become increas-
ingly intolerable in the prior decade or so and the confiscation of Spanish-
owned estates—he never set out a clear economic plan. These measures
delighted his indigenous followers, intrigued mestizos and creoles, in-
of the fi rst rebel actions, they sought to store sufficient food, coca, and
alcohol for what they understood would be a long struggle ahead.
Tupac Amaru insisted that he was obeying royal orders. A per-
plexed Spaniard wrote in the early days “there are still subjects who
think he’s following His Majesty’s orders, which would make him a
faithful subject, but this seems unbelievable as Indians aren’t granted
these rights.”22 Even the letter writer wondered whether Tupac Amaru
might actually have permission from Madrid. In a letter to Cuzco’s
bishop, Diego Cristóbal Tupac Amaru, Tupac Amaru’s cousin and suc-
cessor, contended that “Our King [Charles III] had taken repeated and
wise measures” against the “unbearable” abuse inflicted on Indians by
misguided colonial authorities, but to no avail. Frustrated, His Majesty
thus gave José Gabriel a “royal decree” permitting his actions against
corregidor Arriaga.23 In other words, the king had grown tired of his un-
derlings not following his orders and had supposedly granted Tupac
Amaru permission to act. Tupac Amaru believed, it seems, that he would
have the king’s support to rid Peru of wayward authorities if the mon-
arch were to know the level of exploitation in the Andes. Tupac Amaru
converted this faith in the king’s hypothetical support into the argument
that he had written proof of it, a contention that many people accepted.
Violence did not mark these initial excursions. The Spanish did not
have troops in any of the towns between Cuzco and Arequipa and local
militias, if they existed, did not have arms or esprit de corps and crum-
pled before the fight began. Royalists could not confront these quick
entries into towns and villages. On the other hand, Tupac Amaru im-
prisoned corregidors and abusive Spaniards but rarely executed them
on the spot. In fact, from the beginning, late 1780, he tried to keep
rebel violence in check. This would change.
Tupac Amaru returned to Tungasuca late on November 14. He spent
the next few days organizing his forces and drafting numerous letters
and decrees. He wrote these on paper but the rebels also wrote on can-
vas and even on animal skins. They often hid their messages under
saddles and mule bags.24 On the fi fteenth alone, he penned at least six
edicts, five letters, and three orders or commissions. That day he wrote
the kuraka Diego Choquehuanca, ordering him to arrest the corregidor
of Azángaro (in the district just north of Lake Titicaca). He announced
that corregidors would no longer exist and declared the abolition of
“the mita, alcabalas, customs houses, and other pernicious novelties.”
had made friends with blacks in Lima. Forty years later, in 1820, the Ar-
gentine Liberator and leader of the War of Independence, General José
San Martín, employed the same tactic on Peruvian shores, promising
slaves their freedom if they joined him. San Martín hoped to weaken roy-
alists and to gain soldiers.35 The freedom offer might have also sought to
gain the sympathy of the vast mixed-blood population, those with some
African lineage who although free despised slavery.36 Yet the motivation
was not merely practical. The freedom of slaves, cast here as victims of the
Spanish, resonated with Tupac Amaru’s emphasis on justice and the
struggle against widespread and systemic abuses by Europeans. Tupac
Amaru had witnessed the horrors of slavery in Lima, and abolition fit
well with his call for freedom from European abuse.
18,000. He lent 14,000 pesos of the Church’s money while the San
Jerónimo priest, Ignacio de Castro, lent an additional 40,000 pesos.41
The Bishop organized the city’s clergy into a militia, divided into
four companies.42 He held a meeting with religious leaders on Novem-
ber 13 to devise a plan. The Bishop stressed that the rebel was only ten
leagues or about twenty-six miles away, counted on ten thousand armed
Indians and six hundred mestizos and Spaniards, and thus posed a great
danger to “religion, our king, and the republic.” 43 They discussed the
possibility of confronting Tupac Amaru in the area between Cuzco and
Tungasuca, to persuade him “by any means possible” to abandon his
“depraved project.” The church leaders decided to remain in Cuzco—
presumably to the great relief of the majority of the religious men—
because of the lack of weapons. Instead, they agreed to use the pulpit to
chastise the rebels, to collect information from priests in the rebel area,
and to lobby father Don Antonio López de Sosa, the Tungasuca priest
and intimate of Tupac Amaru. They recognized that the rebel leader
himself was a devout subject of the king who could perhaps be con-
vinced to give up his uprising.44
Don Tiburcio Landa created a company composed of local militia
members, volunteers from Cuzco, and approximately eight hundred Indi-
ans and mestizos procured by the kurakas of Oropesa, Pedro Sahua-
raura and Ambrosio Chillitupa. In the ensuing two years of insurgency,
Indians would almost invariably constitute the majority of combatants
on both sides. This hastily assembled group of counterinsurgents in-
tended to defeat the rebels and claim a reward. On November 17, they
reached Sangarará, a small, frigid town north of Tinta, twelve thousand
five hundred feet above sea level. Indian militias organized by the kurakas
of six small towns joined them.
When the sentinels reported no sign of the enemy, Landa’s com-
pany camped in town rather than on a less vulnerable hillside. They
were more concerned about an impending snowstorm than the enemy.
Tupac Amaru had hidden his forces in order to dupe the royalists into
believing that the rebels had fled or were simply not that numerous.45
At four in the morning, Landa’s troops found themselves surrounded.
One observer said that the approaching troops sounded like “an earth-
quake.” 46 Landa and his troops took refuge in the church. Tupac Amaru
demanded they capitulate and instructed the priest and his aides to
leave. When the royalists disobeyed these instructions, Tupac Amaru
to hasten their expedition. Their rush doomed them. They camped the
first night in Huaro and then made the long trek to Sangarará. After
Landa had won the debate about whether to set up base in the church or
outside of town, false alarms woke up the troops several times. Mol-
linedo describes the frustration when the Indians took the adjoining
cemetery and reports that one soldier was blinded by a rock propelled
from a sling. He details the heroics of Landa and other leaders, who
fought on after they were shot. Landa sought to hide royalist cadavers so
his troops wouldn’t lose faith. The fire in the church, blamed in this ac-
count on Tupac Amaru, killed many men, and those fleeing “the vora-
cious flames fell into the hands of the no less voracious rebels. The uni-
versal slaughter, the pitiful groans of the dying, the bloodthirstiness of
the enemy, the flames—in short, everything that occurred that unfor-
tunate day provoked horror and commiseration, sentiments never felt
by the rebels; blinded by fury and thirsty for blood, they only thought of
stabbing all the whites.”51 Mollinedo tabulates 395 dead in combat, plus
an incalculable number incinerated in the church. He puts Tupac Ama-
ru’s forces at twenty thousand Indians and four hundred mestizos, as
well as a sizeable contingent guarding Tungasuca.52
Rebels captured Mollinedo, the presbitero of Oropesa, fleeing the
church with the holy sacraments. Tupac Amaru ordered that the cleric
be given alcohol (aguardiente) for his wounds and be taken prisoner to
Tungasuca. There, Mollinedo oversaw the burial of some royalists, and
Tupac Amaru released him because of his status as a priest. Mollinedo
still had to get past sentinels and rebel troops and describes escaping
half naked, without even a hat on his head. He was detained, coinciden-
tally, just outside of Sangarará but released again and reached Cuzco.
Other royalist prisoners kept in the Pomacanchi textile mill for a longer
period confirmed his story.53 In the small town of Papres, he witnessed
Indians and rebel sympathizers kill the kuraka of nearby Rondocan just
because of his “white face,” despite the fact that he had fought for the
rebels in Sangarará.54 Mollinedo’s story and all of the other reports from
Sangarará prompted panic in Cuzco about the prospect of a caste war.
Valley, the logical route for enemy soldiers from Cuzco, Puno, or Areq-
uipa. Several prisoners describe Tungasuca in the frenetic first weeks of
the uprising. Friar Juan de Rios Pacheco, a Mercederian, was on his way
from Arequipa to Cuzco with two children in the middle of November
when “mestizos with lances and slings” detained him and took him to
Tungasuca. He mentioned four thousand Indians, more mestizos with
lances and some muskets, three simple cannons, and the gallows. Indians
called him a “puka kunka” or “redneck” in Quechua, which he explained,
“is how they refer to Europeans.” When Micaela Bastidas learned that he
was a priest, she invited him into the house.55 He was surprised to pass
by a mestizo doorman dressed in red and blue with a saber in hand, an
uncommon formality in this rustic setting. He described Tungasuca as
full of “thousands of people of every caste,” mentioning Europeans,
blacks, mulattoes, and Indians. Micaela explained to him their opposi-
tion to “bad government” but not the Church and expressed her confi-
dence that Arequipa and the Upper Peruvian towns of La Paz and La
Plata supported them. At this time they only controlled nearby Tinta,
Quispicanchi, and Chumbivilcas. She claimed to have letters of adhesion
from kurakas from these areas.56
Tupac Amaru and Micaela Bastidas shared power, cajoling yet trust-
ing and confiding in one another. While Tupac Amaru was the leader
who made speeches and signed the bulk of the rebel documents, Mi-
caela Bastidas ran the rebel camp and oversaw provisions. Both rebels
and loyalists feared her wrath. According to one royalist document, her
duties included aiding Tupac Amaru in every way possible: mobilizing
soldiers through stern orders; punishing and even executing anyone
who resisted; recruiting and encouraging the Indians (providing honors
for those who stood out and telling them terrible stories about the Span-
ish to kindle their hatred); promising followers no taxes other than the
tribute and a return to the freedom “of their idolatrous times” (that is,
the time of the Incas); letting everyone know that Tupac Amaru and she
meant to reign; gaining even more obedience than that offered her hus-
band; tearing down decrees from Church doors and replacing them
with her own; closing churches; providing passports; writing letters to
publicize the uprising; and demanding recruits from local leaders, with
the threat of death for any who disobeyed.57 These were not the activi-
ties of a behind-the-scenes underling or obedient wife, but instead those
of a full-blown partner in planning and executing the mass uprising.
and even weapon makers. The debate over whether they did this out of
coercion or rebel sympathies has still not been settled. Both rebels and
royalists treated them warily. Tupac Amaru and Micaela Bastidas im-
prisoned them and then granted them increasing freedom and duties,
although never losing their doubts about their loyalty. Colonial author-
ities scrutinized them in long trials, tapping them for information about
the origin and social base of the rebellion and verifying whether the
bewildering prospect of men from Spanish side of society aiding an In-
dian uprising could possibly be true.
Fascinating and enigmatic figures, these prisoners shine light on
both sides of the struggle. They personify Tupac Amaru’s search for a
multiclass and multirace movement, his perhaps foolish belief that land-
owning, Spanish-speaking professionals would join his cause. This strat-
egy arguably reflected a deeply colonial view on his part that an uprising
could only succeed with Europeans. Once the prisoners turned them-
selves over to the colonial authorities, they were treated as sources of use-
ful knowledge but also dangerous mavericks who broke well-rooted and
venerable hierarchies. The court system showed that colonial Peru had an
arsenal of nouns and adjectives to explain Indians’ misdeeds (many dat-
ing from the Reconquest or Crusades)—“heathens,” “apostates,” “child-
like,” and “hateful” stand out—but struggled to explain or even describe
European treachery. Authorities’ shock at their possible treason was
tinged with fear. Their stories take us deep into the rebellion.
Most of them had worked with Corregidor Arriaga and were cap-
tured when they followed his instructions (written under coercion) for
people to assemble in Tungasuca. Juan Antonio “el Gallego” Figueroa,
a forty-year-old from Galicia, had been in Tinta building a bridge. Arriaga
owed him money. Mariano Banda from Cuzco and José Esteban Es-
carcena from Arequipa both worked as scribes or secretaries for Arriaga.
Diego Ortigoza, in contrast, had been in Tungasuca for a decade, for the
last few years teaching Tupac Amaru’s children. He was fi fty-two and
claimed no profession, proving the venerable dictum that underem-
ployed scholars are dangerous. Manuel Galleguillos arrived in Tungasuca
after the other captives, when Indians captured him after Sangarará.
Francisco Molina initially resisted the call by Arriaga to go to Tungas-
uca but heeded threats by Tupac Amaru to appear. Francisco Cisneros
followed Arriaga’s false order and was imprisoned in Tungasuca upon
arrival on November 7.
Arriaga— and that they merely followed orders. The prosecution con-
tended that they participated willfully, influencing what was being
communicated and even dictating letters and orders. Tupac Amaru was
a capable writer but required help because he was so busy and often out
of Tungasuca. Whether Micaela Bastidas could write adequately in
Spanish is unclear. She did not have the schooling that her husband did
and was less likely to pick up the rudimentary training that men of her
intermediate social status often gained in small towns such as Pam-
pamarca. Although bilingual, she frequently spoke in Quechua in dis-
cussions, forcing the Europeans and creoles to rely on a translator.69
In her testimony, Micaela Bastidas deemed Mariano Banda “a major
confidante.” Other prisoners also incriminated him, although their tes-
timonies need to be taken critically— they were trying to save their
own lives and sought to present themselves as secondary figures forced
to help the rebels in minor roles. Ortigoza and Galleguillos maintained
that Banda had paid rebel soldiers. In fact, one historian argues that
perhaps his imprisonment was a ruse and that his participation had
been planned before the capture of Arriaga.70
While they no doubt fudged the truth when defending themselves
by blaming others, they provide a clear portrait of camp in Tungas-
uca. They describe their shock at the execution of Arriaga, their mis-
treatment (guards and chains), and their eventual duties. They indi-
cate that Tupac Amaru was in charge yet always consulted with
Micaela. After Sangarará, they were allowed out of the locked rooms
and even shared meals with Tupac Amaru and family. Micaela ran
the camp in Tungasuca. She kept a close watch on provisions, cajoled
Indians and kurakas to support them, threatened those who wavered,
kept tabs on her husband as he expanded his zone of action toward
the south in late 1780, and to the extent possible scrutinized events in
Cuzco, which she knew would counterattack. People spoke Quechua
and Spanish and an air of ner vous elation can be detected. The lead-
ership knew that they had taken irreversible steps that could radically
change their world or lead to their gruesome deaths. Although they
did not understand this at the time, both outcomes proved to occur.
Followers had experienced an unbelievable turn of events— the death
of exploiters, the abolition of hated institutions, the return of an Inca
leader—yet they also knew that defeat would come at a fantastically
high price.
Tupac Amaru was not the only one concerned about the loyalty of
these puka kunkas or rednecks. Escarcena noted that the Indians sought
to exterminate Europeans and then do the same to creoles and mestizos.
He argued that they ultimately wanted to “be alone among themselves . . .
living happily with their king (the treatment they gave Tupac Amaru).”71
Francisco Cisneros, one of the detained Spaniards, contended that the
Indians despised him and planned to kill him. Manuel Castelo, a Span-
ish authority imprisoned alongside Cisneros, described Indians breaking
the walls and roof of their prison, Tupac Amaru’s house, in an attempt to
get their hands on Cisneros, Arriaga’s tax collector. The assistant priest of
Coporaque and Tungasuca, Ildefonso Bejarano, maintained that he con-
vinced the Indians to stop the attack.72 While Cisneros used these claims
in his defense, no one countered them.73
Their testimonies mention some unusual events and conspiracies,
not found in accounts of the uprising. Francisco Molina asserted that
Banda had been aware of a plan to poison Europeans in Cuzco city.
Banda contended that a man named José de Palacios had written to
Micaela Bastidas claiming to have a strong potion that would kill the
city’s elite, gamonales, and thus facilitate seizing the city. He had even tried
it out on some unfortunate dogs, with success. Although rebels did not
poison city residents, the threat or rumor played on city dwellers’ fears
of insurrection from the countryside and from within the city.74 Cisne-
ros mentioned that he and some others had tried to kill Tupac Amaru
in November, but could not shake their captors. He also claimed an at-
tempt to capture him in April 1781, when Spanish forces pushed into
Tupac Amaru territory.75
they actually did these things solely because of coercion seems implau-
sible. Scarlett O’Phelan Godoy posits three explanations: solidarity
with Tupac Amaru, the belief in his decrees that he had royal support,
and the defense of their property. She also stresses that they came from
the intermediate European or creole social groups, not the most power-
ful but not the weakest.77
The trials indicate a good measure of opportunism on their part.
They were imprisoned and no doubt did whatever they could to save
their lives. But their testimony supports authorities’ suspicions that they
did not flee when they had the opportunity and fulfi lled their duties
with a certain level of enthusiasm. While they claimed they did not
have an alternative, they might have been swept up a bit in the heady
times of late 1780. Creoles— and even some Spaniards—had many rea-
sons to dislike the taxes and other measures imposed by corregidors
such as Arriaga. They could have supported Tupac Amaru’s call for the
abolition of despised Spanish institutions and even the execution of
some of the more hated authorities and believed in his emphasis on a
multiethnic, multiclass movement. Almost all Andean social move-
ments included support from wayward mestizos and creoles.78 They
lived in Tupac Amaru’s house— fi rst as prisoners but increasingly, it
seems, as guests— and shared food and decision making with the rebel
leaders.
Was this a case of Stockholm syndrome, in which hostages increas-
ingly sympathize with their captors? Probably, although the metamor-
phosis is not that shocking. The prisoners came from a social group that
Tupac Amaru rubbed shoulders with in his work as a muleteer and
kuraka and hoped to recruit for his movement, thus explaining his pa-
tience with them and rejection of his initial inclinations to execute them.
Before the uprising, Tupac Amaru was likely to socialize with people
such as Banda, Cisneros, and Galleguillos. Ortigoza taught his children
and in a small town such as Pampamarca (population of less than 5,000),
the two literate men must have shared many conversations.
In fact, the relationship might also reflect what has coincidentally
been called the Lima syndrome, in which abductors feel growing sym-
pathy for their hostages. The name derives from the 1996 seizure of the
Japanese embassy in Lima by the Tupac Amaru Revolutionary Move-
ment (MRTA, another coincidence) guerrilla group, when the rebels
treated the hostages well, releasing most of them and befriending some.
This laxness facilitated the storming of the embassy and the death of the
guerrillas. Perhaps Tupac Amaru and Micaela Bastidas grew increas-
ingly fond of the captives, appreciative of their adulation and cognizant
of their value to the movement. Ethnic kurakas and those who claimed
royal Inca blood, such as Tupac Amaru, sought throughout the eigh-
teenth century to gain the respect of creole society.79 Their deference
might have given Tupac Amaru a similar satisfaction to that which he
derived when he redistributed cloth from an obraje or announced the
abolition of the Indian head tax. Tupac Amaru believed that their re-
spect for him was as correct and necessary a societal change as the im-
provement of conditions for Indians. For Spanish authorities, it was
also an equally subversive and troubling change.
The rebels counted on creole supporters. Felipe Bermúdez also
worked for Arriaga in Tinta but once in Tungasuca, his time in rebel
prison did not last long. Whether his capture was a ruse or not is uncer-
tain. He was rapidly named “capitan general” and wrote important let-
ters for Tupac Amaru and Micaela Bastidas. He did not stay behind in
Tungasuca but accompanied the rebel leader in his forays to the south
in the fi nal months of 1780. Tupac Amaru clearly trusted him, in-
structing Micaela at one point that a decision should be made “by only
you and Bermúdez.”80 Antonio Castelo, a mestizo or creole from Sicu-
ani who had lived in Tungasuca for several years, was the other mes-
tizo or creole leader. Hesitant at fi rst over the execution of Arriaga, he
quickly gained authority within rebel ranks and by the end of the year
led one of the three major fronts. He was in heady company: Tupac
Amaru himself and his cousin, Diego Cristóbal, who would soon be-
come the absolute leader, led the other two.
In an important reassessment of creole participation, David Cahill
argues that “rather than the leadership having consisted of a charis-
matic Inca leader and a small nucleus of lieutenants, the rebellion was
rather the creation of a ruling Inca-Creole Junta with Túpac Amaru al-
located the starring role—in effect, a joint venture of the Túpac Amaru
and Castelo families— given that his stature as Inca made him a lodestar
for Indian recruitment.”81 Cahill shows how the Castelo clan’s patri-
arch, Melchor, had ingratiated himself with José Gabriel well before
the uprising and highlights the important military role that the multi-
ple members of the family, not only Antonio, played.82 While correctly
describing the role of creoles in this early phase, Cahill overstates his
“even boulders turned into Indians who kneeled and bowed to him.”
The assembled Indians pledged that “you are our God and our Lord; we
ask that there no longer be priests who disturb us.” Tupac Amaru an-
swered that this could not happen: “who would absolve us in the time
of death?”1 This exchange highlights perhaps the greatest, or at least
most unexpected, challenge faced by the rebel leaders: how to reconcile
their religiosity, with widespread indigenous dissatisfaction with the
Church on the one hand and extensive counterrevolutionary efforts by
priests and other members of the Church on the other. This conun-
drum would dog the rebels until the end.
The indigenous masses had a worldview different from that of the
rebellion’s leadership. As will be seen, Indians understood the uprising
as a messianic movement and believed that Tupac Amaru would un-
leash a radical change in the Andean world, turn things upside down,
invert power relations. Indigenous rebels had little patience with efforts
to keep creoles and mestizos in the rebel fold and to temper rebel vio-
lence. These differences or tensions escalated over time, but did not
come to the fore in the initial months. Tupac Amaru and Micaela Bas-
tidas succeeded in keeping peace among the insurgents, as the eupho-
ria of these early months satisfied the more radical vision of much of
the indigenous masses. However, the confl ict between the rebel lead-
ers’ respect for priests and the bishop’s implacable efforts to depict the
rebels as heathen apostates and to use the clergy to defeat them proved
to be a virtually insurmountable obstacle for the rebels.
The stories rapidly spreading throughout the region about the execu-
tion of Arriaga and the rebel victory in Sangarará terrified lowly tax col-
lectors, petty officers, and corregidors. In fact, Tupac Amaru complained
that authorities fled so quickly that he could not capture them. The
Church was a different matter. While the rebellion counted on the sup-
port of a handful of clerics, others remained in their parishes and cam-
paigned bravely and effectively for the royalists. Tupac Amaru could not
convince these clerics to join or leave; nor could he bear executing them.
Tupac Amaru and Micaela Bastidas confronted a formidable
adversary— the Catholic Church had a deep presence in colonial Cuzco.
The city itself, with a population of about thirty thousand, had nine
convents, three monasteries, eight houses for religious women or beate-
rios, and seven Church-run colleges and schools. All of the major male
orders could be found. From the Cuzco cathedral, the bishop presided
over a sprawling diocese divided into over one hundred thirty parishes
or curatos, the number varying due to frequent territorial realignments.
One calculation put the total number of secular and regular priests
(that is, members of religious orders) at about one thousand. In the six-
teenth century, the Jesuits built an imposing church on the Plaza de
Armas equal in grandeur to the cathedral, while the Dominicans, Mer-
cedarians, and Franciscans also constructed magnificent churches.2 Al-
though strongest in larger cities, the Church extended deep into the
countryside, maintaining a greater presence in most cases than the co-
lonial state. Every town mentioned in this book had at least a small
chapel while many, including towns with less than five thousand peo-
ple such as Pampamarca and Checacupe, had splendid churches laden
with spectacular artwork. Beginning in the sixteenth century, Spain
had sent European masters to train indigenous artists in Cuzco, part of
its efforts to indoctrinate the descendants of the Inca Empire. Their
work, the “Cuzco School,” featured vibrant, didactic paintings of reli-
gious scenes. These works of art, which graced the churches and temples
throughout the region and today are victims of thieves and the thriving
international market for stolen colonial treasures, sought to convert and
instruct through the eye, the essence of baroque religiosity.3
Since the sixteenth century, the colonial state had delegated much
administrative work in the Andean hinterland to kurakas such as Tupac
Amaru. Priests and their numerous aides and underlings, however, took
charge of the spiritual realm, and consequently had an important pres-
ence in daily life. The fees for masses, burials, baptisms, and other ser-
vices kept them afloat and, when considered excessive, angered many
local people. They also counted on free labor from local Indians and
profits from church property, rural and urban. These different forms of
income made some local parishes quite profitable.4 The indigenous peo-
ple could very well venerate their priest, but they were also willing to
sue, harass, and even run him out of town if they disagreed with him.5
The Catholic Church was an all-encompassing institution and must
be conceived of in the plural. Hierarchies and divisions characterized its
internal structure, while over the centuries members of the Church
fought over its administration and direction and confronted external
foes. The stratification took many forms. Secular and regular priests un-
derstood their missions in markedly different ways, while priests and
nuns operated in distinct realms, with the former enjoying far greater
Excommunicated
12,000 pesos of his own money and even more from the bishopric itself;
organized four militia companies that included over four hundred eccle-
siastics; and ordered priests outside the city to send information about
the rebels and to conduct Masses in Quechua in order to separate Indi-
ans from “the pernicious superstitions that the rebel has planted all over
the place.”8 Although the bishop’s confl ict with Corregidor Arriaga had
earned him some enemies, and became even more controversial after
the corregidor’s execution on November 10, authorities in Cuzco in late
1780 knew that they needed the bishop’s leadership and resources. Those
who subsequently criticized Moscoso for purported links with the rebels
presented his efforts in late 1780 as a smokescreen to conceal his initial
lack of activity against the uprising and even rebel sympathies. This
seems exaggerated— Bishop Moscoso energetically and effectively took
command of royalist efforts in Cuzco.9
With the excommunication, Moscoso sought to exclude Tupac Amaru
from the Christian community. The rebel leader was not permitted to
partake of Church rituals, nor could Christians (as the term “excom-
munication” indicates) “communicate” with him. The horror expressed
by Tupac Amaru indicated how unexpected the measure was, and he
contested the decision passionately in the coming months. He argued
that Moscoso’s decision was illegitimate for three reasons: Indians like
himself were exempt from excommunication; he was not against or an
enemy of “the faith”; and the royalists, not he, had burnt down the
church in Sangarará. Tupac Amaru had a strong case on all three points
but he had no forum in which he might rebut Moscoso— he could only
attempt to minimize the excommunication’s impact.10 Moscoso had
justified the excommunication in a closed assembly with regular and
secular priests. Recognizing that Indians could not be excommunicated,
he contended that the rebellion required extraordinary measures and
that Tupac Amaru and his main followers were more enlightened (más
luces) and more rational (actually, less irrational) than most Indians. He
called them ladinos, people of Indian descent who spoke Spanish.11
With one decree, he converted Tupac Amaru in the eyes of many from
a rebel hero into a heathen.
The excommunication stung. Tupac Amaru believed himself to be a
model Christian and also understood that Moscoso’s decree would be the
single most efficient weapon against him in the propaganda war that was
beginning to rage. To defend himself, he repeated the argument that as
priest. They tore down Moscoso’s decree from the church door, replac-
ing it with one that explained that the priest had been arrested, that
Tupac Amaru knew how to repay his loyal followers, and that they
should not believe anything that the cleric had told them.18
The evidence in the trial against Tupac Amaru included the bando
(decree) that the rebels posted in Chumbivilcas. It stated, “He who re-
moves this will be given the death sentence.” It came from “don José
Gabriel Tupa Amaro Inca, descendent of the natural king of this king-
dom of Peru,” and was intended for “all types of people, Spaniards as
well as common Indians” in the province of Chumbivilcas. After de-
claring the rebellion’s intention of liberating people from corregidors’
abuses and from “ ‘European’ threats,” it continues:
some ecclesiastics, taking advantage of the excommunication imposed
maliciously and fraudulently by some Europeans, attempt to introduce
countless abuses against Christians, trying to perturb their faith . . . we
demand that everyone in this kingdom, Spaniards as well as Indians,
completely disregard their preaching, because they are not only against
God’s law and that of Christianity which we must defend, but the ob-
jective of their advice is to protect the unjust demands they place on us
and the great damage they infl ict. To liberate ourselves from them, we
request that the citizens capture and bring us these clerics, following
the necessary procedure, and those who don’t follow these orders will
be hanged. Those priests who don’t abstain from their lying abuses and
sermons will be committed in a school for the rest of their life, or they
will serve the sentence wherever we end up. Tupa Amaro.19
me through his assistant, who is very ill [and thus was allowed through
by sentinels]. Otherwise, it’s very dangerous.”21 In another case, the
unfortunate Francisco Lasarte carried letters to Cuzco in his shoe. On a
return trip, the rebels found them and executed him on the spot. 22 De-
spite these efforts, Tupac Amaru fell short in his efforts to impede the
spread of the news about his excommunication.
People reacted to the news in different ways. One royalist account
said that the excommunication made people lose their “fear of the re-
bellion.”23 The priest of Lluzco and Quinota raved about its impact. He
claimed the excommunication had “brought peace to Quinota,” a rebel
hotbed. He described how kurakas and other people listened carefully
when he translated the document into Quechua for them. He followed
up in Mass by promising that even those who had participated in some
rebel activity would be absolved by the bishop’s special measure as long
as they did not recur. He claimed that the decree had also turned the
tide in Colquemarca and Santo Tomás, important towns of the high
provinces.24 The priest contended that excommunication had punc-
tured Tupac Amaru’s mystique and driven fear into pious Indians.
The letter exaggerates. Calm did not suddenly return to these two
towns. Nonetheless, the excommunication gave many people second
thoughts, slowing recruiting into rebel ranks, decreasing enthusiasm,
and increasing desertions.25 It particularly weakened the rebels’ efforts
to cast themselves as judicious reformers who were forced to do what
the king would have done himself had he been aware of the situation,
that is, expel abusive authorities. It also countered the argument made
frequently by Tupac Amaru in late 1780 that the rebellion sought to
fortify Indian religiosity by ridding Peru of the exploitation that kept
Indians from becoming good Christians.
The excommunication weakened the movement. It prompted doubt
among supporters and drove away potential rebels. The decree aided
the royalist propaganda campaign. Yet its impact should not be exag-
gerated. The rebellion continued to grow after the November 1780 ex-
communication. Thousands of insurgents cared more about the upris-
ing’s anticolonial efforts than about the bishop’s maneuver. How
indigenous people felt about the Church and Catholicism varied greatly.
It was a personal question, one that reflected circumstances and con-
text. Popular, emphatic priests held great sway over their communities;
the more abusive earned parishioners’ wrath (as might have been the
Father Luna insisted that the prevalence of vice in the area greatly of-
fended God. In this letter, Luna also disputed the rebels’ claim that he
had organized royalist soldiers, contending that he had only brought
them together so that they could confess and take communion. He re-
quested that he not be harassed and signed off by calling himself “her
most reliable server and fond chaplain.”37
Luna testified in 1782. He argued that the letter was part of his ef-
forts to get out of rebel prison, where he was held along with other
priests and religious people. He asserted that the rebels controlled the
paths and roads that led to Cuzco and he thus stayed behind to defend
his people, helping many Spaniards escape the area. He had been forced
to “feign surrender and submission.” Apparently confident, Luna chided
the judge for writing from “the tranquillity of his office,” while he had
been surrounded by “barbarians.” Witnesses supported Luna’s claims,
insisting that Velille and Chumbivilcas in general were firmly rebel terri-
tory, that some priests had been killed in areas such as Paucartambo and
the area near Lake Titicaca, and that he helped Spaniards escape. In his
case, the letter was not particularly damning and he was absolved.38
The prosecution accused the clerics of negotiating with the rebels
rather than fleeing and of communicating with an excomulgado. The
defendants relied on three explanations. When asked why they did not
leave rather than plead with the rebels, they claimed it was impossible.
Rebels had fi lled the roads and paths to Lima with sentinels and spies
and people could not circulate easily. They used a similar line of argu-
ment when accused of dealing with an excomulgado. They argued that
they were unaware of the decree, as it had not reached their town.
With these two justifications, they portray a curious scenario in which
rebels controlled a massive region extending hundred miles south of
Cuzco but could not thwart royalist priests. In the region around Tun-
gasuca, rebels would not break into the sanctuary of the churches or,
even after direct and heated confrontations, attack priests.39
Their third line of defense, alongside the impossibility of fleeing and
their ignorance of the excommunication decree, was fear. The prospect
of death at the hands of the rebels forced them to negotiate and even
fawn but also led them to act in irrational and unusual ways. One defen-
dant wrote, “it would have been different if I had found myself free of the
worries prompted by such unexpected and scandalous events [the upris-
ing]; but when fear rather than reason dominates . . . an overwhelming
fantasy takes hold that makes you think about the most wretched events
and get overexcited.” 40 In canon law, the rules of conduct that guided
investigations and trials of church members, grave fear is understood as
diminishing actions and thus can be used to justify unacceptable ac-
tions.41 And despite Bishop Moscoso’s reassurances in late 1780, the
clerics had reason to tremble. Don Antonio Chaves, the auxiliary priest
of Sicuani, gave a chilling anecdote. Chaves had written Tupac Amaru
to ask that he send a judge to prevent “extortions” by Indians. The
town’s dignitaries and wealthier merchants had taken refuge inside the
Sicuani church. Rebels frequently pounded on the church door and did
not tire of threatening those inside. One day they intimidated Chaves
by shaking burlap bags with objects inside that made a loud noise. He
was horrified to learn that inside the bags were the heads of royalists
killed by the rebels. He was acquitted.42
Don Carlos Rodríguez, the priest of Yanaoca, wrote Micaela Basti-
das to request fi fty pounds of sugar, for which he sent ten pesos. In this
December 26, 1780 note, he promised to make up the difference if the
ten pesos weren’t enough and that he would like even more sugar if
possible. His justification for the one-sentence letter was, in contrast,
elaborate. Tupac Amaru had threatened the people of Yanaoca if they
did not join him. Locals begged Rodríguez to impede the “rebel, and
even more so his wife, the stronger one.” 43 He said the letter was to
trick the rebels into believing that he and the town supported them, a
ruse he came up with “in the midst of so much confusion, in the very
heart of the fi re, surrounded by barbarians.” He emphasized that he
helped three Spaniards escape and that his town had captured Micae-
la’s brother, Antonio Bastidas. The prosecutors recognized the difficult
situation that Rodriguez y Avila faced but persevered because of his
signoff in the letter to Bastidas, “I pray to our Lord and the Virgin for
your success and that they take care of you for many years.”
Witnesses testified that Rodríguez had acquired much-needed sugar
for Yanaoca and gained time to allow Spaniards to escape. They de-
scribed his face-to-face confrontations with rebels and how he had kept
Yanaoca out of the hands of the insurgents. Every night he had his pa-
rishioners join together in a procession in honor of the Holy Virgin,
clearly a counterrevolutionary ritual. On November 30, Micaela Bastidas
arrived in Yanaoca with two thousand six hundred soldiers. He would
not receive her in royal fashion or allow the rebels to ring the church
bell. She ordered three artillerymen to shell his house but, according to
his testimony, he didn’t budge. Rodríguez took an even greater risk when
he did not allow the rebels to bury Andrés Noguera (Tupac Amaru’s
cousin) and Hermenegildo Roxas in the Yanaoca church. The rebels of-
fered 300 pesos, he claimed, but he refused. He also raised the rebels’ ire
by allowing local Spanish authorities threatened by rebels to take refuge
in the church. Despite their fury, the rebels did not break down the door
or even demand that he give up the key.
Rodríguez also confronted Tupac Amaru himself, audaciously asking
him whether he didn’t fear God and Hell in light of all the turmoil,
deaths, and theft he had prompted. Tupac Amaru responded that in tak-
ing action against the “thieving corregidors,” he was doing God’s work.
On another occasion, the priest criticized Tupac Amaru for having ran-
sacked the church’s fields. The rebel leader responded that the damage
would be repaid. Witnesses did not corroborate these encounters—they
were not asked— and the priests might have exaggerated. Nonetheless,
the stories indicate the respect that rebels had for the sanctity of the
church. If a Spanish landowner had made such comments, the rebels
would very likely have killed him. Other priests also told stories of rebels
ransacking, burning, and threatening but stopping at the church door.
Backed by Spanish witnesses, Rodríguez was acquitted.
Domingo de Escalante had been the assistant to the priest in Marco-
conga, an annex of Sangarará, but after the events there returned to
his family house in Acos, Quispicanchi, aiding the priest of Pirque. On
February 12, 1781, he sent Micaela Bastidas peaches, prickly pears, and
bread in the name of his mother. In a poorly written letter, Escalante
described how the Indians of Pomacanchi, where rebels had burned a
textile mill and entered repeatedly, had threatened his brother and
damaged his house. He asked her for protection.
In his defense, Escalante claimed that caution and just fear (“recelo y
temor justo”) drove him to write the letter. He noted that while he never
believed the decree published by Tupac Amaru that declared his pre-
rogative as a viceroy and visitador general to punish corregidors, he did
not know about the rebel leader’s excommunication. He explained,
“Indians didn’t allow us to meet or talk about anything or to put up
signs.” He described how rebels controlled all of the roads in the area
and how they targeted all Spaniards, with no respect for gender, age, or
status. They punished them “for no other crime than having a white
face or for not wanting to join the vile insurgent troops.” He insisted
that “even priests” were arrested and subject to execution. He employed
the widely circulated anti-insurgent litany—Tupac Amaru was a vio-
lent tyrant who murdered, burned churches, and killed his enemies on
a whim— and stressed his own anguished and even irrational emo-
tional state. Several witnesses confi rmed that the rebels had blocked all
roads and threatened priests and Spaniards. He was acquitted.44
Luna, Chaves, and several other priests prosecuted by Moscoso ap-
pear to have been faithful and courageous followers of the bishop’s com-
mand to stay put and preach against the insurgents. They wrote the
letters and notes that got them into trouble but their testimonies and
the many witnesses that backed their stories indicate their loyalty and
unflagging efforts to boost the morale of local people and to disparage
the rebels. Other defendants leave a more ambiguous impression. They
wrote obsequious letters to Tupac Amaru or Micaela Bastidas but their
actions went beyond desperate maneuvers to save their lives or those of
European parishioners. They might have simply felt obliged to show
their support for the insurgents in tangible ways, beyond a mere letter.
It should not be forgotten that they were in the midst of rebel territory,
terrified by dreadful stories or scenes of insurgent violence. But their
seeming ambivalence might have been more than just a tactic used in a
dire time. Some seem to have supported certain measures taken by the
rebels, or at least believed that Tupac Amaru and his followers were
going to control the region for a long period. They certainly did not
enthusiastically follow Moscoso’s command to harass the rebels
implacably.
In late December 1780, don Buenaventura Tapia, an ordained priest
based in San Pablo de Cacha, sent Tupac Amaru the town’s tax rolls along
with his assurances that he would quickly dispatch Indian soldiers, “even
single men and choir members.” Rebel leaders could use the tax rolls to
keep track of recruits and to make sure that the town was sending its
share. Tapia told the recruits that the rebellion fought for the “common
good.” He thanked Tupac Amaru for “cutting from the root” the corregi-
dors’ bad customs and monopoly of resources that caused such “great
poverty,” but excused himself from leaving town to meet in person due
to his “choleric tumors.” In the trial, Tapia blamed panic for this highly
incriminating letter and the remission of the tax rolls, bluntly stating
that he wrote it due to “his fear of Tupac Amaru’s recklessness and rigor.”
Rebel Priests?
The best-known priests in the Tupac Amaru rebellion are those who
apparently supported the rebels from the beginning. Father Antonio
López de Sosa, the parish priest of Pampamarca, had married Tupac
Amaru and Micaela Bastidas and baptized their children. Some main-
tained that he had virtually raised Tupac Amaru and that they were
compadres.47 In his testimony, López de Sosa did not deny their close-
ness and admitted that he had lent Tupac Amaru money at times. Born
in Panama, López de Sosa was a long-time resident of the area and his
jurisdiction also included Tungasuca and Surimana. He had been at the
dinner at Father Rodríguez’s house that preceded Arriaga’s capture and
remained in Tungasuca after his execution. One witness claimed that
he went in and out of Tupac Amaru’s house, rebel headquarters, at will
and some contended that he had even helped gather wood to build the
gallows.48
The assistant priest, Ildefonso Bejarano, lived in Tupac Amaru’s house
and to the disgust of European prisoners, moved about freely in the
rebel camp. He and López Sosa participated in the preparations for Ar-
riaga’s execution. López de Sosa gave last rites while Bejarano lectured
from the gallows to the thousands present, “see what has happened to
this bad man for having lost respect for priests and the bishop.” 49 They
both had paid lip ser vice to the excommunication but reiterated their
support to Tupac Amaru.
Micaela Bastidas had reservations about their loyalty to the rebel
cause. On November 26, 1780, she wrote Tupac Amaru about how Beja-
rano and Ramón Moscoso, the kuraka of Yanaoca and Bishop Moscoso’s
cousin, reported to the bishop and others in Cuzco on troop numbers.
She pointed out that the fact that Bejarano and López de Sosa closed
the church and wouldn’t give Mass could indicate loyalist leanings. She
closed this letter, “all of this has me worried as we are in the midst of
enemies and we could become victims of a sudden act of treachery.”50
This exchange prompted Bejarano to reassure Tupac Amaru in a highly
incriminating letter dated December 1, the centerpiece of the decades-
long trials against him. He explained to the rebel leaders that city coun-
cil members in Cuzco had deemed them accomplices of the rebel. López
de Sosa thus closed the church and posted the excommunication de-
cree to counter these charges, to appear to be working for the royalists,
“but it was well known how much he [López de Sosa] cares about Your
Majesty [Tupac Amaru].” Bejarano stressed that López de Sosa and he
understood that the rebellion was not “against the faith” and recognized
that “young and old knew that this type of men [abusive Spaniards] has
been very harmful in this kingdom.”51 The letter explains their actions
and confi rms their admiration for Tupac Amaru but does not explicitly
say that they support the rebel. It strikes a middle ground, in which these
priests continue to work with their parish in the midst of rebel head-
quarters but do not pledge support. When they later defended themselves
in court by asserting that they were only doing their jobs as men of the
cloth and had no alternative but to perform some duties in the elabo-
rate execution of Arriaga, they were stretching the truth but not bla-
tantly lying.
The priests had sided with Bishop Moscoso in his previous battles
with Corregidor Arriaga and believed in greater clerical autonomy from
the viceroy and the Crown. They opposed the regalist efforts of the
Bourbons to hem in the power of the Church. Other than that, the ex-
planations of why they supported the rebels are not that different than
those for other middle-sector individuals. They knew Tupac Amaru
well and understood that he was a devout Christian. In fact, they
trusted and even venerated him. These priests witnessed on a daily ba-
sis the ceaseless exploitation of Indians and understood the toll that the
mita, the reparto, and other taxes took on Indians; they also knew that
these demands reduced the money available for the Church. In addi-
tion, they believed that corregidors and authorities in Cuzco and Lima
served towns such as Tungasuca and Pampamarca poorly. They pre-
sumably understood and welcomed the importance they would have
and the longed-for changes that would take place if the rebellion were
successful; they also must have had a strong inkling of the conse-
quences if it failed.
The trials against López de Sosa and Bejarano lasted for more than a
decade—the Spanish did not know what to do with them. It’s safe to say
that their robes saved them. It is difficult to imagine a layperson getting
away with such open support for the rebels. In their defense, several of
the European prisoners noted the priests’ kindness and deemed them
“good men.” For example, Juan Antonio Figueroa observed López de
Sosa pleading with Tupac Amaru just half an hour before the execution.
However, they also expressed their shock at how López de Sosa and Be-
jarano moved about camp freely and rubbed elbows with the rebel lead-
ership.52 The two priests insisted that circumstances did not allow them
to prevent the execution or alert authorities.
In 1787, López de Sosa was still captive in a Capuchin monastery in
Madrid. He presented medical testimony that he suffered from hypo-
chondria (depression) and from the region’s bad weather. Bejarano had
spent time in Cádiz, Madrid, and Sigüenza (in the center of Spain), re-
stricted to monastic life. In 1790 the King granted him a small daily pen-
sion yet in 1794 Bejarano demanded his freedom, bitterly complaining
Scholars have long debated whether the Catholic Church supported the
Tupac Amaru rebellion. The key is how the question is framed. If it is
asked whether some members of the Church aided the rebels, the an-
swer is yes. As seen here, the clergy from the center of the rebellion met
with Tupac Amaru on a daily basis before and after the uprising began
and did almost nothing to impede the rebels. López de Sosa and Beja-
rano continued their clerical duties in the midst of Arriaga’s execution
and its aftermath. While not weapon-carrying soldiers or radical ideo-
logues, they were close to Tupac Amaru and disregarded the bishop’s
command to condemn the rebellion from the pulpit and to spy on the
rebels. But no one contests that some clerics were on the rebels’ side.54
The trials against the priests and the long-running campaign against
Bishop Moscoso led people past and present to focus on the bishop and
to exaggerate the subversive role of the Church. In part, this reflects the
ageless maxim that the victors write history. Spanish hard-liners, who
took over the royalist side at the very end of the demise of the rebellion
and then oversaw the trials (the major source for scholars) and subse-
quent repression, contended that defiant priests had played an impor-
tant role in the formation and development of the uprising. Visitador
Areche and his replacement, Benito Mata Linares, mistrusted and dis-
liked Bishop Moscoso. They belittled him in correspondence and tried
with great energy and even anger to prosecute him for rebel sympa-
thies. These trials dragged on for almost a decade and the archive rec-
ords are literally voluminous.55 A critic of Moscoso, Arriaga’s nephew
Eusebio Balza de Verganza, published a detailed indictment loaded
with documents, La verdad desnuda o las dos fases de un Obispo, “The Na-
ked Truth or the Two Sides of a Bishop.”56 In 1784, José Raphael Sa-
huaraura Titu Atauchi published Estado del Perú (1784), a defense of
Moscoso, while in 1790 Moscoso released a long summary of his refu-
tation of the charges in Inocencia justificada contra los artificios de la calum-
nia, “Justified Innocence Against Slanderous Tricks.”57 Subsequent
chapters examine his long struggle, from Cuzco to Lima to Spain, to
defend himself against the accusations of supporting the rebels. Read-
ers are led to believe that whether Moscoso supported Tupac Amaru or
Near the end of the letter he added that in the trial against Tupac Amaru,
they had found “a great deal of correspondence to him from priests and
friars that scandalizes and hurts the ears of even the most robust and
pacific. There you see how they treated him as Your Majesty and the
submission and respect with which they treated him, calling him Re-
deemer and the New Messiah.”60
Followers of the trial after the rebellion and readers of the transcripts
over two hundred years later can be easily led to believe that defiant
priests subverted the Cuzco countryside along with Tupac Amaru. De-
spite the cases of López de Sosa, Bejarano and a few others, however,
this view is excessive if not erroneous. While Bishop Moscoso knew
Tupac Amaru, sympathized with some of his battles prior to November
1780, despised Arriaga, and had tangled with other Spaniards, he threw
all his weight against the uprising upon news of the corregidor’s execu-
tion and the battle of Sangarará.61 What is key is the impact of the ex-
communication and the decisive aid that priests, following the bishop’s
orders, gave to royalists. If they had not stayed, the rebels would have
had free rein in the massive triangle between Cuzco and its amorphous
borders with Arequipa and Puno. Recruiting and gathering provisions
would have been much easier and church land would have been there
for the taking. Royalists would have not had anyone in the region to
contest rebel ideology. Instead, priests rallied intermediate groups and
planted doubts with the Indian masses about Tupac Amaru’s religious
status, his all-important soul, and the fate of the rebellion.
The question of whether a group or an individual supported the up-
rising is not so black and white. Partisanship was fluid— often due to
opportunism or desperation— and many of the priests were neither
committed rebels nor effective counterinsurgents. As the letters to Bas-
tidas and Tupac Amaru showed, they cowered in fear and shock and
sought to save their lives and those of their parishioners. Many proba-
bly saw good things about both sides or despised them both. Some pre-
sumably did not understand what was happening—few people did in
the confusing fi nal months of 1780. Nonetheless, the work of priests
backed by the bishop in the Tupac Amaru zone vexed and weakened
the rebels. Without them, Tupac Amaru and Micaela Bastidas would
have had a much easier time spreading their message and gaining re-
sources. They could not imagine a world without the Catholic Church;
their struggle to create a new world had to contend with its fervent and
effective opposition.
require. During her husband’s foray to the south, she increasingly wor-
ried that a swift royalist attack from Cuzco would crush their camp in
Tungasuca. In numerous letters to Tupac Amaru, she expressed her im-
patience with his extended sojourn to and urged him to hurry, stressing
that his family was in danger. In Cuzco, fi fty-five miles away, Bishop
Moscoso directed royalist efforts. His situation and activities displayed
a curious symmetry with those of Micaela. He raised money and mo-
rale, orchestrated religious processions, and communicated with au-
thorities in Lima, his priests throughout rebel territory, and militia
leaders. With only vague and distorted news about events south of the
city, he and much of the city population feared that a siege of the city
was imminent. Europeans began to think that their worst nightmare
was possible: the bizarre hanging of a corregidor and the unfortunate
turn of events in Sangarará could develop into a full-blown war. While
Bastidas looked to the south, anxiously waiting for her husband and
the bulk of their troops to return, royalists in Cuzco impatiently waited
for reinforcements from the north. Both sides sought to win the infor-
mation and propaganda battles, placing spies and messengers, inflating
their strength, and masking their intentions and anxieties.
Contentious Preparations
The city council and Bishop Moscoso did not limit their prepara-
tions to fundraising, military training, and last-minute reforms. One
account described how the entire population of the city, led by Bishop
Moscoso and Franciscan friars, united “to wash away their sins in the
fountain of penance and to take strength from the Holy Eucharist.” The
author declared that “undoubtedly a spectacle has been offered to God
that is capable of disarming his wrath, while the solemn fasting on No-
vember 28–30 has placed this town in the humility that God demands,
whereas before its immoderate haughtiness and excesses prompted his
just indignation.” Panic had reached the point where city dwellers
viewed the uprising not as an unprecedented expression of Indian fury
or of Tupac Amaru’s bloodthirsty quest for retribution, but as divine
wrath.3
News of Arriaga’s execution reached Lima on November 24. Viceroy
Jáuregui called for an immediate emergency meeting with the General
Inspector of the Army, Commander José del Valle, Visitador General
José Antonio de Areche, and members of the high court or Audiencia.
On the 28th, commander Gabriel de Avilés left the city with two hun-
dred members of the free black (“pardos libres”) militia, with instruc-
tions to recruit soldiers along the long march to Cuzco. Peru did not
have a standing army and relied instead on militias. Avilés’s troops had
four hundred muskets, twelve thousand cartridges, and five hundred
sabers. At this point, the viceroy believed that the rebels counted on
twenty thousand men.4 Days later, when the viceroy learned about the
Sangarará debacle, he sent an additional 400 soldiers as well as 6 can-
nons, 1,525 16-caliber muskets, 75 pistols, spears, lances, and other weap-
ons. Mules and foot soldiers carried the load down the desert coast in
the hottest days of the summer. They turned inland around Pisco and
climbed the precipitous Andes. Summer in the Andes means warmer
temperatures, a welcome respite for people used to the temperate coast,
but also rain. The showers and mud made the marching miserable, par-
ticularly the climbing. Del Valle left Lima on December 20 with an ad-
ditional two hundred soldiers.
These and other soldiers from the coast suffered terribly from so-
roche, or altitude sickness. Over millennia, Andean people have adapted,
with enlarged chests and increased lung capacities.5 However, people
from lower elevations begin to feel the flulike symptoms at about eight
thousand feet. The thinner (scientists prefer the term “less dense”) air
contains less oxygen, causing people to tire quickly, run out of breath,
and become nauseous. Many dehydrate as the altitude consumes more
water vapor in the lungs. Some people can develop potentially fatal
pulmonary or cerebral edemas. Rest relieves the symptoms but these
soldiers continued to march up and down steep mountains, the grim
reports from Cuzco adding to their haste. The route to Cuzco includes
passes that tower fourteen thousand feet above sea level. Cuzco itself is
at ten thousand five hundred feet but most of the fighting took place in
the south, much of it well over twelve thousand feet above sea level.
Bus drivers in the Andes routinely hand out coca leaves or medications
that can alleviate the aches and nausea. Anyone who has flown to an
Andean or other city over ten thousand feet above sea level knows that
after an initial exhilaration, the traveler feels sluggish and has a pound-
ing headache. Hydration and rest help greatly— the royalist soldiers did
not have this option. Soroche would add to their miseries and impede
their fighting in the coming battles.
Well-armed battalions advance slowly in the Andes. The sheer west-
ern face that rises sharply only a few miles inland presented just the ini-
tial challenge. Horizontal ranges that run east-west saddle the interrange
valleys, rapidly breaking up any respite from climbing and descending.
Even today, the roads between Nazca and Cuzco feature almost nonstop
hills and unnervingly steep turns. The Avilés expedition did not reach
Cuzco until January 1, where they waited for the others.6 The three ex-
peditions had orders to recruit among the largely indigenous population
between Lima and Cuzco. No commander provided numbers but they
had to rely on coercion and apparently had only middling success—
hundreds rather than thousands joined them. On December 11, 1780,
Areche wrote to one corregidor demanding that he pay suppliers the full
amount and on time. He confidently predicted that “many would volun-
teer and thus require supplies.”7 His optimism proved unfounded. Indi-
ans did not volunteer massively and many of these indigenous soldiers
deserted when the fighting began and conditions worsened.
On December 7, Lima’s city council abolished the reparto, believing
it the major cause of the uprising, and ordered that corregidors receive
a fi xed salary, hoping that this would discourage them from exploiting
locals. They criticized Cuzco for the divisions and indecisiveness that
Bishop Moscoso reported, contending that the Andean city had been
“pusillanimous.” At the same time, in Lima divisions emerged that would
L modern borders
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P A C I F I C
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mark the royalist reaction to the uprising and policies well into the
nineteenth century. Incensed that he had not been named to lead the
expedition, Visitador Areche wrote fiery diatribes against the viceroy
and del Valle to his ally in Madrid, the powerful José Gálvez. He de-
cried their incompetence and what he deemed the cowardice of the
Lima population. To Areche’s chagrin, few people in Lima volunteered
to join the expedition to fight the rebels in Cuzco. This should not have
been surprising: it was a five-week journey over mountain passes that
stretched fourteen thousand feet above sea level. Moreover, people un-
derstood that the pay would be minimal, conditions rugged, the com-
bat brutal, the Andean population hostile, and the enemy relentless. In
late December, Areche himself headed to Cuzco, intending to take over
operations in this early stage. He failed and had to share responsibili-
ties. Yet Areche never gave up in his attempt to undermine Viceroy
Jáuregui and Commander del Valle and to implement his preferred
hard-line policies against the rebels and the Andean people.
Areche teamed with Benito Mata Linares in this struggle. Born in
Madrid in 1752, Mata Linares had been named to Lima’s high court in
1778 and was also Auditor of War.8 He and Areche belittled the viceroy’s
efforts, demanding a greater reliance on fixed units and professional sol-
diers rather than local militias and volunteers. They presented the cre-
oles and corregidors who oversaw the militias as lazy and corrupt and
the lower classes who manned them as untrustworthy cowards. In the
fi nal months of 1780 and early 1781, Mata Linares and Areche won this
battle, at least on paper, as Madrid recognized the drawbacks of the mi-
litias. Nonetheless, royalists did not have the time or resources to make
this transition quickly. Mata Linares joined Areche in peppering Ma-
drid with letters and memos about the viceroy’s errors and the need for
radical change in Peru. In the coming two years they succeeded in
wresting decision making from the viceroy and his allies.9
Going South
On November 22, 1780, Tupac Amaru left Tungasuca to shore up his
support in the nearby towns of Pichigua, Yauri, and Coporaque, where
the kuraka Eugenio Sinayuca had been proselytizing against him. He
followed what was becoming standard procedure: his scouts searched
for enemies and provisions and he gave an impassioned speech from
the church steps about his movement, announcing in Quechua to flab-
bergasted locals that a new day had arrived. Many listeners joined his
movement. On the 25th, Tupac Amaru wrote a proclamation to the
population of Lampa, a large town to the south near Lake Titicaca, an-
nouncing his campaign against “bad government” and abusive Span-
iards and his commitment to creoles. He boasted that he counted on
sixty thousand Indian supporters as well as creoles and people from
outside the area.10
In this initial foray to the south, Tupac Amaru failed to capture José
Campino, the corregidor of Chumbivilcas, and also saw the royalist
kuraka Eugenio Sinayuca slip out of his hands. On November 27, he
heard disturbing news about an alliance among the corregidors of
Azángaro, Chucuito, Carabaya, Lampa, and Puno, who were awaiting
arms and soldiers from either Arequipa or La Paz. He worried that if
the corregidors received this help and royalists attacked from Cuzco, he
could be trapped. This motivated him to continue his push south. He
asked kurakas in his core area to stall any troops mobilizing from Cuzco
while he was away and instructed Micaela to disseminate an exaggerated
image of their followers’ numbers and resources in order to discourage
such a royalist charge. He also told Micaela on November 26 that he
would be back in “five or six days”—he was off by almost a month.11
Tupac Amaru headed toward an area he knew well because of his
trips to Potosí. He counted on important contacts and allies. His favor-
ite author, Garcilaso de la Vega, perhaps inspired him. Book 2 (“which
describes the idolatry of the Incas and the way in which they glimpsed
our true God”) chapters 19 and 20 of the Comentarios Reales (Royal Com-
mentaries) describes in characteristically epic style how Lloque Yupan-
qui, the third Inca ruler, conquered the Collao in the thirteenth cen-
tury. Garcilaso portrays how Lloque Yupanqui tamed their “wicked”
women and instructed them to follow a single God, the Sun. We can
imagine José Gabriel reading these lines from chapter 20 with glee,
perhaps understanding them as a premonition: “the people of Chucuito
[near Lake Titicaca], though they were powerful and their ancestors
had subjected some neighboring tribes, did not wish to resist the Inca.
They replied on the contrary that they would obey him with love and
goodwill as a child of the Sun, to whose clemency and mercy they were
attached and whose benefits they desired to enjoy by becoming his sub-
jects.”12 It should be remembered that José Gabriel considered himself
“El Inca.” The Royal Commentaries tells multiple tales of Incas based in
Cuzco triumphantly imposing order in the Collao.13 José Gabriel looked
to the Collao with the confident enthusiasm of someone who knew the
region well. In contrast, when pursuing rebel forces there half a year
later, the Spanish would view the region with dread and even disgust.
In reality, Tupac Amaru’s objective, the five corregidors, did not
pose a serious threat to Tupac Amaru and were themselves vulnerable.
The reinforcements and funds they expected from Arequipa, La Paz, or
Lima never arrived, while much of the Spanish-speaking and more af-
fluent local population in the Titicaca area fled. Moreover, as rumors of
hordes attacking from the north circulated, the Indian masses increas-
ingly abandoned their customary deference and flaunted their rebel
sympathies. The corregidors felt besieged; they knew their lives were in
danger. In late 1780, they strove to hold out against the rebels and save
their own lives.
Although recriminations about the corregidors’ inability to hold the
south continued for months and years, they tried. Desperation seems
the best term to describe their efforts. When he learned about the up-
rising, don Miguel de Urbiola, the Carabaya corregidor, instructed par-
ish priests to prepare with “penance and public processions” and had
his assistants organize the defense of towns such as Crucero and Sandia.
He himself supposedly walked twenty-two leagues (about sixty miles; a
league was often measured by how far a person could walk in an hour)
in a single day “to provide Spaniards and Indians with guns and spears”
that he paid for himself. Nonetheless, rebels eventually burned down
much of Carabaya.14 On November 14, the Azángaro corregidor in-
structed his counterpart in Lampa to organize troops and to hold the
line, because other provinces were “bereft of weapons.”15
Puno’s corregidor, Joaquín de Orellana, left a detailed account of his
frantic efforts to defend the Collao. In November 1780, reacting to the
call by another corregidor to “drown out this fi re before it spreads and
resist with everything,” he proceeded to Lampa with his minuscule mi-
litia of 166 men. Orellana was then ordered to Ayaviri, where rebels al-
most trapped him and he lost his guns and gunpowder. To his dismay,
he then was called on to help much of Puno’s population evacuate; he
had hoped Lake Titicaca’s largest city would be a royalist stronghold. He
had no confidence in the local militias and labeled authorities in Cuzco,
La Paz, and Arequipa “indolent” for not sending aid of any kind. Orel-
lana remained active throughout 1781.16 Authorities in Cuzco, in turn,
criticized the corregidors for having fled so quickly from the rebels.17
After attacking the mining town of Cailloma in late November,
where officials managed to flee with large quantities of money and sil-
ver just before the rebels arrived, the Tupac Amaru forces crossed the
glacier-covered mountains of La Raya, over fourteen thousand feet
above sea level, the towering dividing line between Cuzco and Puno.
Reports of his troop size ranged from ten thousand to sixty thousand.18
The rebels understood that ahead of them, in the Titicaca basin and
into the Collao, Indians vastly outnumbered Europeans, creoles, and
mestizos, and that desertions and fear had already crippled the colonial
militias. They also knew that the area’s sheep and cattle ranches pro-
vided easy prey for meals— the ranchers could flee to Arequipa or else-
where but could not take their livestock with them. The insurgents
entered the town of Santa Rosa, where Corregidor Urbiola had patched
together a militia with up to two thousand troops. It quickly folded,
however, its members fleeing or passing over to the rebels, and Urbiola
himself barely escaped. On December 4, the rebels passed into the Vice-
royalty of Rio de la Plata, entering the small town of Macara.
That same day, the corregidors of Chucuito, Lampa, Azángaro, Puno,
and Carabaya met in Vicente Oré Davila’s house in Lampa. Colonel Pe-
dro de la Vallina brought frightening news. He had been imprisoned in
Tungasuca but had convinced the rebels that he was a Lima creole, not
a Spaniard, married to the granddaughter of don Diego Choquehuanca,
the kuraka of Azángaro whom the rebels hoped to enlist. All of this
was false. Before releasing him, Tupac Amaru had told Vallina that he
had upwards of thirty thousand Indians and that “Cuzco would be
his.”19 Vallina demanded that the corregidors prepare what could be a
fi nal defense of the Titicaca area. Tupac Amaru had fueled the corregi-
dors’ fear by writing letters that he made sure they intercepted, which
greatly inflated his troop numbers.20 This group of corregidors proved
unable to defeat the rebels in battle. They lamented the absence of
help from La Paz or Arequipa and recognized that they lacked suffi-
cient weapons and soldiers (and critics would contend courage) to hold
the line.
The corregidors probably regretted their one deed that December
day. Weeks before, royalists had captured Tupac Amaru’s nephew,
Simón Noguera, in the Qqueque hacienda near Santa Rosa and taken
him to Lampa on November 24. The twenty-year-old had been sent
ahead of Tupac Amaru’s troops to scout the area. The corregidors over-
saw his execution after their junta on December 4.21 Micaela Bastidas
reportedly burst into tears when she learned of his death; Tupac Amaru
vowed revenge.
Tupac Amaru sent troops to the hacienda where Noguera had been
captured while another group set out for Lampa. The corregidors fled
and deserters bolstered the rebel forces. At this point, people massively
serious threat in open battle. He recognized that they had the advan-
tage in mobility, and could employ hit and run or guerrilla tactics (a
term that would not be invented until the Napoleonic invasion of Iberia
in 1807) with great success.
Diego Choquehuanca, a kuraka from Azángaro who came from a
distinguished family, initially provided the royalists a bit of good news
amidst the gloom of the rebels’ seemingly unstoppable advance in the
Titicaca area. In November 1780, Tupac Amaru had written this elderly
patriarch (estimates of his age range from seventy to ninety) several
letters, explaining his efforts and requesting his support. Choque-
huanca immediately informed the Lampa and Carabaya corregidors
and within days had written several more corregidors as well as the city
council and bishop of La Paz, pledging his opposition to the rebellion.
He instructed his sons— Joseph, a colonel in the militia, and Gregorio,
a priest— to shore up Azángaro´s defenses.27 Furious about Choquehu-
anca’s rejection and believing that he had participated in the execution
of Simón Noguera, Tupac Amaru went after the Choquehuanca family
and their numerous estates with unusual vehemence. Although Diego
Choquehuanca managed to flee to Arequipa, his family paid a heavy toll:
rebels killed another son, a daughter, three cousins, and one grandson,
and razed their estates.28
Choquehuanca was not alone—the southern kurakas spurned Tupac
Amaru. In the words of David Garrett, “the cacical elite of the Titicaca
basin remained resolutely loyal. As news of Sangarará reached Lampa,
the province’s kurakas arrived in its capital with armies of tributaries
to defend the crown.”29 In the midst of the royalist nightmare of late
November and early December, when Arequipa and La Paz failed to
send reinforcements and corregidors fled alongside thousands of des-
perate people, kurakas provided promising bits of good news. They re-
mained loyal, particularly those with aristocratic pretensions, rejecting
Tupac Amaru’s calls for an Inca utopia. This decision would prove fun-
damental for royalist success not only in the south but also in the Sa-
cred Valley north of Cuzco. In fact, as we will see, another kuraka, Mateo
Pumacahua, was at this very time halting rebel advances in Paucart-
ambo and the Sacred Valley.
Tupac Amaru reached Lampa on December 9, greeted by Indians
and “a few vecinos [non-Indians].” According to the nineteenth-century
English geographer Clements Markham, “The Inca entered Azángaro in
He had heard that “the Inca [Tupac Amaru] was on his way to conquer
Buenos Aires to be crowned and that he would extinguish all corregi-
dors.” He claimed that some Indians “joined of their own free will and
others because of death threats from their chiefs or mandones.” Gutiér-
rez Sonco had witnessed Tupac Amaru redistribute goods taken from
estates and was awed by the “infi nity” of Indians who were following
the rebel leader.37
Manuel Chuquipata, arrested with Gutiérrez Sonco, added that the
Indians in the Collao, “and the young and the Spaniards had given Tu-
pac Amaru their full obedience and all are in unison in their support,
wearing the cross in their montera, the indigenous headwear; we were
instructed to wear this rather than other types of hats as well as uncus
or a tunic and a sling across our chests.” Tupac Amaru had requested that
his troops use the cross to distinguish themselves and preferred indig-
enous clothing rather than European. Chuquipata pointed out that the
rebel leader had exonerated Indians from the December semester head
tax.38 The document does not note the two Indians’ fate but they were
presumably executed.
Tupac Amaru stayed in Lampa for three days, deciding where to con-
tinue. He was tempted to push on to Upper Peru and align with rebels
there. He also considered attacking Arequipa or sieging nearby Puno.
Numerous letters from Micaela, however, persuaded him to return. In
fact, throughout the uprising, she proved to be highly persuasive.39 On
December 6, she chided him for “moving very slowly, touring around
from town to town. . . . I am losing my patience with all of this, and I’m
capable of turning myself over to the enemy so that they take my life,
because I see that you do not take this grave matter seriously, endanger-
ing all of our lives.” 40 One royalist observer described her role with re-
pugnance and amazement, “She filled in for her husband in Tungasuca,
overseeing the expeditions and even mounting a horse to recruit in
Chumbivilcas where she sent repeated orders, with audacity and unique
intrepidation, authorizing the edicts with her signature and going so far
as to begin a plan of invading Cuzco herself, in charge of the troops,
which she would have done if Tupac Amaru hadn’t written about his
victorious return from the south. She thus decided to wait for him.” 41
various sources to make sure that they could feed and pay soldiers.
Bishop Moscoso complained that her measures “seduced towns,” citing
the “wretched news” from Ccatca, Paucartambo, where Indians had
destroyed several estates and plundered all the livestock, and towns
near the Sacred Valley where rebels had attacked haciendas and
bridges.45 She kept a tight rein in Tungasuca, but also celebrated victo-
ries and made plans for the future. According to one account, “when she
got news of the king’s troops dying she got very happy and handed out
silver or clothes to whoever brought the information. She advised the
Indians to get strong, insisting that even if some of them died, the ben-
efits would be for them and their children. She warned them that au-
thorities in Cuzco wanted to trick them with a pardon, while they
would really barricade the rebels in the main plaza and slaughter or
burn them until no one was left alive. She notified the Indians that if
she and her husband were defeated, they should put Spaniards, men
and women, and priests in a house and set it on fi re.” 46 The last sentence
should be read warily— the testimony was from a creole detained in
rebel camp, Manuel Galleguillos, who wanted to stress the danger he
faced in Tungascua. Yet he closed by noting, “I saw more rebelliousness
in Micaela than her husband, more arrogance and haughtiness, to the
point that she was to be feared more than her husband.” 47 He had little
to gain by underlining her strength and spirit. In fact, no one disagreed
and many echoed this description of Micaela as a dedicated and fear-
some leader.
Her primary concern in late November and early December was that
royalists would push through and attack Tungasuca while Tupac Amaru
was in the south. She sought information from her informants and re-
ceived contradictory intelligence. One spy in Quiquijana reported that
although a few Indians had betrayed the rebels, Spaniards were not
advancing south. Yet Marcos Torre wrote from Acomayo on the follow-
ing day, December 15, that the towns of Paruro, Accha, and Pilipinto
supported the royalists and would soon attack the rebels’ fi rst line of
defense, Acos and Acomayo. He suggested she send troops to attack the
royalist rear guard in Livitaca and requested arms: “we don’t have a
single musket.” 48 That same day Tomás Guaca reported from Pomacan-
chi, where the rebels had ransacked the textile mill a month earlier,
that he couldn’t feed the troops and they were crossing over to the roy-
alists. Antirebel kurakas and mayors were “giving them plenty to eat.” 49
The ability to feed the troops proved crucial for both sides, aiding re-
cruitment and deterring desertions. Micaela Bastidas wrote that very
day to her husband that “there is news that they [royalist troops] have
left Cuzco; the vanguard is in Urcos and they also want to attack us from
Paruro.”50 This proved to be false but she and others were worried.
Her private correspondence took on the schizophrenic nature of any
commander—panic about being overrun mixed with confidence that
they would soon control the southern part of Peru and the northwest of
the Rio de la Plata viceroyalty. On December 15, she instructed her fol-
lowers to send more troops, while boasting that “everything had gone
well [mayor felicidad] so far and we have in our favor the provinces of
Urubamba, eight parishes of Cuzco, Paucartambo, Quispicanchi, Paruro,
Tinta, Lampa, Azángaro, Carabaya, Pacarcolla, the city of Chucuito, and
others.”51 In a December 6 letter, she outlined her efforts to recruit more
people and “little by little encircle Cuzco, which is well guarded as I noted
in my previous letter.” Here she chided her husband for taking his time—
“walking with lead feet”— and fretted that Indians were returning to the
hills as they ran out of livestock.52 She exuded confidence and concern.
Tomasa Condemaita, the kuraka of Acos, was the other important
female rebel leader. She had received the kurakazgo as a birth right in a
town not far from Surimana, where Tupac Amaru held his. Born around
1740, she presumably knew Tupac Amaru as a child. In the initial days
of the rebellion, rebels threatened to kill her, believing her a royalist
due to her creole husband. She sent her husband and three children to
Cuzco and committed to the rebellion.53 She watched over Acos, pro-
viding troops and provisions and directing skirmishes against the roy-
alists. Early in the uprising, on November 12, noting Indians’ inclina-
tion to steal sheep and “commit excesses” with creoles, she requested
that Tupac Amaru send someone to impose order.54 She shared with
Micaela Bastidas the frustration with Tupac Amaru’s extended sojourn.
On November 30, she wrote Tupac Amaru wondering where he was;
on December 9, she expressed her concerns to Micaela: royalists “could
come [han de venir] and surround us from all over, Quiquijana, and the
hills; they know that the Inca is away and if we are not careful, they
will ambush us. I have been very pained by Don José’s tardiness; let’s
hope God brings him back safely and as soon as possible.”55 In another
note probably from the same day, she described the pressures she faced
from a possible royalist attack as well as from those within the rebel
town of Qero took him to greet Tupac Amaru in Tungasuca. They were
disappointed to learn that the Inca was in the south, in Lampa, but Mi-
caela Bastidas thanked them for their support and asked Gutiérrez to
take the letter. She hid it, written on coarse cloth by a tall man with an
elegant sleeveless coat, presumably one of the European prisoners, in the
lining of his bag or chuspa, instructing him to take back roads to Maras
and not to go near Cuzco. She told him to tell the Indians not to worry,
that her husband sought only to get rid of corregidors and to destroy
obrajes. The Qero Indians stayed behind. Guards at the Urcos Bridge
searched him superficially and didn’t find the letter. Nonetheless, they
made him pay a bribe of four reales to pass the bridge. He couldn’t find
the kuraka to whom the letter was addressed, Lucas Nuñez de la Torre (a
very Spanish name), and gave it to the authority’s daughter. She found
her father and he quickly had Gutiérrez arrested and sent to Cuzco.
The prosecutors in Cuzco tried to get more information from him
about why Tupac Amaru was in Lampa and who was with the rebels in
Tungasuca but he did not have anything valuable. They gave him the
death sentence and rejected his appeal. Although the trial ends with the
sentence, he was presumably hanged as an “emissary of Tupac Amaru.”60
Pérez Lechuga and Francisco Celorio. The former was a veteran of Spain’s
wars in Italy.61 On December 20, aided by the kuraka of Chinchero,
Mateo Pumacahua, and his soldiers, royalists defeated Diego Cristóbal’s
forces near the Pisac Bridge. One priest counted 120 dead rebels as well
as many washed away by the Vilcanota River.62 The royalists slaugh-
tered everyone they captured. The rebels took refuge in Calca and, ac-
cording to several accounts, committed numerous atrocities, “killing
everyone who had a shirt. . . . Raping attractive women and then kill-
ing them, and even raping the dead.” Witnesses also accused the rebels of
murdering children and profaning the Calca church.63 The “killing all
with shirts” reference means that the rebels attacked all Europeans,
broadly defi ned as those who wore shirts, that is, western dress.
Pumacahua (1740–1815) rose to the top of the royalist military com-
mand, recruiting thousands of Indians whom he commanded in nu-
merous victories. For generations his family had held the kuraka office
in Chinchero, a town built on a prominent Inca site on the peaks that
separate Cuzco and the Sacred Valley, renowned today for its dual Inca-
colonial architecture. While he never clarified the reasons why he op-
posed Tupac Amaru so vehemently, he presumably saw the Tungasuca
rebel leader as a lowly kuraka with less prestige and capital than those
of the Sacred Valley and towns such as Chinchero.64 Just like the rebels
they confronted, Pumacahua’s indigenous soldiers knew the terrain
well, moved great distances quickly, and employed hit-and-run tactics.
Pumacahua proved to be an invaluable ally to the royalists. Bishop
Moscoso explained, “once this highly faithful [ fidelisimo] Indian knew
about the wretched insurrection of Tupac Amaru, he charged through
towns, executing with a knife those who wouldn’t join him, burning
their houses. . . . He armed his people and after inspiring them” de-
fended all of Chinchero and the Calca y Lares district.65 On December
23, 1780, Pumacahua’s forces attacked the rebels in Calca, killing hun-
dreds and executing almost everyone they captured.
Cuzco’s city council labeled this bloody defeat of the insurgents a
turning point, a “glorious triumph.” The victory raised morale among
troops and civilians and weakened the rebels. The city council’s ac-
count claimed that the wretched events in Calca, the rebel atrocities,
“showed that Tupac Amaru’s intention was to exterminate all Spanish
and mestizo people, and so those people who might have followed him
stopped doing so, comforted by our union.”66 The widely reported
Violence
The events in the Sacred Valley and the hills above it mark a change in
the use and understanding of violence by both sides. Although sources
are thin and one-sided (we do not have rebel accounts), each side slaugh-
tered the other and desecrated cadavers: the rebels raped cadavers and
the royalists paraded heads on pikes. Neither took prisoners. In the ini-
tial weeks of the uprising, in contrast, rebels stormed into a town and
ransacked estates and mills, but did not pursue all Europeans or kill
most prisoners. Tupac Amaru and Micaela Bastidas sought to prevent
widespread violence and many people near the rebel center believed
they could remain neutral. By the middle of December, however, each
side believed that the other sought to exterminate and thus matched
brutality with brutality. To use an important term in the study of war
and violence, restraints diminished or even disappeared.71 Neutrality
was increasingly difficult.
The change can be explained partially by the passing of time and
the extension of the rebellion. Violence begets violence and Pumaca-
hua’s troops believed they were taking revenge for rebel atrocities; the
rebels probably had a similar justification or motivation. Furthermore,
rebel violence increased or hardened as the uprising expanded geo-
graph ically. Miles away, Tupac Amaru, Micaela Bastidas, or other com-
manders had little power to impede the distant rebels from slaying
anyone of European descent or culture, often in brutal fashion. As will
be seen, the worst rebel atrocities took place when no major rebel com-
mander was present. Yet the cruelty in late 1780 was not just a reflec-
tion of deepening hatred and an expanding uprising; it also revealed a
broadening ideological divide between the two enemies. Each side de-
fi ned the other as a vile nemesis who needed to be exterminated.
As historian Jan Szeminski showed, rebels cast the Spaniards as bad
or evil Christians, whose actions placed them outside the church, and
who thus deserved a brutal death. At the same time, insurgents broad-
ened the defi nition of puka kunkas, thus unleashing violence against
anyone with European dress, the Spanish language, or other western
cultural attributes. Whereas Tupac Amaru and Micaela Bastidas differ-
entiated between good and bad Spaniards, more radical insurgents
considered everyone of European descent or culture as evil and thus a
justifiable victim of violence.72
Terror in Cuzco
for additional concern. José Andia, an accountant with the city’s royal
treasury, had absconded with a great deal of money and prominent fig-
ures such as the archdeacon Ximénez Villalva and another priest had
fled the city. The bishop also complained about rebel spies operating in
the city.75 In the rebel camp, Tupac Amaru boasted about his successful
trip to the south. He had gained supporters and provisions, what the
Spanish deemed booty.76 After a month of uncertainty, when only ghastly
rumors reached Cuzco and both sides suffered from the near impossibility
of getting their messages and spies through the corridor between Cuzco
and Puno, the situation became much clearer. Tupac Amaru and Micaela
Bastidas were about to lead an attack on the city of Cuzco.
masses, surged to the surface and tensions spread. December 1780 was
such a time.
The Incas built Cuzco (or Qosqo) alongside the Huatanay River, in a
bowl surrounded on three sides by steep hills and ravines, which opens
to the southeast toward the sacred Ausangate glacier and Tupac Ama-
ru’s Vilcanota Valley. In late 1780, Cuzco was both a Spanish and Inca
center. It was Peru’s second city, with a population of thirty thousand
people compared to Lima’s fi fty thousand. The upper classes consisted
of descendants of the conquistadors but also those of different waves
of Spanish immigrants. But it was still also an Inca city. Quechua
was as common as Spanish— even many members of the upper classes
who flaunted their European lineage spoke the Inca language.
Quechua-speaking Indians and mestizos constituted three-quarters of
the city’s population and at any time Cuzco also hosted thousands of
campesinos bringing their wares to sell or seeking short-term employ-
ment. Indians throughout Peru venerated Cuzco, seeing it as the Inca
capital. Here, in the fi nal days of 1780, the city’s population believed
that the long-awaited attack by Tupac Amaru— dreaded by some, anx-
iously awaited by others—was at hand. Everyone understood the im-
portance of Cuzco.2
Tupac Amaru’s return to Tungasuca in mid-December signaled that
such an attack on the city of Cuzco was imminent. Micaela Bastidas
and other rebel leaders understood his southern sojourn as a delay, a
loss of valuable time. City residents, in contrast, had hoped that he
would be defeated in the Collao or that he would extend his campaign
into La Paz and Potosí rather than Peru’s second city, less than sixty
miles from his base. They wanted him away from the city of Cuzco for
as long as possible. While his expedition gave the city’s residents a
month to fortify their defenses, it also provided time for rumors and
anxiety to spread. Well-to-do city residents despaired that Indian bar-
barians, as they saw the rebels, would pillage and rape or that the in-
surgents would siege the city for months, depriving them of food and
water. They looked ner vously at the Indians and mestizos who consti-
tuted the city’s majority. Would the lower ranks join the rebels, sup-
porting the incursion and perhaps looting and wreaking havoc? They
also wondered whether their neighbors would flee the city or surrender
quickly. The city’s upper crust, authorities, and many more dreaded the
arrival of the insurgents.
Preparations
that the enemy would gain information about the city’s defenses or that
a mass exodus might take place and facilitate an invasion.10 Fear even
affected the religious calendar. The Bishop held Christmas Mass at sun-
set rather than the customary midnight because “such a gathering
could turn into a riot.”11 At the same time that authorities took mea-
sures to make sure that the city’s residents resisted an invasion or siege,
they received distressing news from the south. On December 19, Father
Ignacio de Santisteban Ruiz Cano wrote from Chamaca, in the upper
provinces to the southwest of Tungasuca, that he needed reinforce-
ments, as Indians merely laughed at his exhortations to remain loyal.
Those of his town as well as nearby Velille were joining the rebels:
“They already consider that damned Indian [Tupac Amaru] sovereign.”
In an unusual display of blunt frustration, he closed by noting that if he
had twenty-five men on his side, he would burn Chamaca to the ground,
“as an example to everyone and to show that the voice of our King was
not completely asleep amidst these barbarians.”12 Panic began to take
hold among the city’s powerful: a mass rebel army was on the way, roy-
alist priests could no longer control their towns, and a significant num-
ber of the city’s residents might very well welcome the rebels.
The story of a courageous or foolish team of merchants illuminates
events and the mood at rebel base. On November 15, Agustín Herrera
and María Santos de Valencia, husband and wife, loaded their mules
with over two hundred gallons of wine and left Arequipa to sell their
goods in Cuzco.13 For centuries merchants supplied the highlands with
Arequipa wine and spirits, much of it produced in the Majes Valley.
Today, a popular dance in Cuzco’s countless patron saint festivals com-
memorates these traders, the majeños.14 The couple had bravely ven-
tured into Tungasuca to request a pass from the rebels and, successful,
had reached Cuzco on December 2 or 3. On their return weeks later,
insurgent sentinels had taken them again to Tungasuca to fi nd out
whether to allow them to continue. The rebel leaders chatted with them
amicably and were surprisingly open about their plans. When Tupac
Amaru and Micaela Bastidas asked about defense efforts in Cuzco, Her-
rera and his wife told them that five thousand soldiers as well as weap-
ons had reached the city, an exaggeration, and more were on their way.
Tupac Amaru snickered and said, “I wish there were even more people
in Cuzco so I could capture all of them and their weapons . . . this only
makes me braver.”15 He confided that although he didn’t have the date
for the attack set, he and his people preferred Saturday, as they had al-
ways succeeded on that day of the week and he had great faith in the
Virgin Mary, venerated on Saturdays.16 He mentioned that he thought
that the viceroy was in Cuzco, which pleased him; it was better “to start
with the head.” Viceroy Jáuregui had not left Lima. This bravado might
have reflected Tupac Amaru’s confidence or have been intended to
boost morale. It very well could have been both: the rebel leader be-
lieved that he could take Cuzco but understood that he would need the
commitment of his troops and support from the towns in the approach
to Cuzco as well as sectors of the city itself.17
Tupac Amaru and Micaela gave the traveling couple a poncho and
silk stockings as parting gifts and asked that they place a lampoon about
the uprising in a corner of Arequipa’s main plaza. Laughing, Tupac
Amaru told them that he didn’t want to kill anyone but just wanted to
spare Indians from Spaniards’ demands. He noted that Indians worked
so hard to pay for the reparto and taxes that they “don’t even learn how
to pray.”18 The rebel leader promised to “take a tour” [dar un paseo] at
some point to Arequipa to learn about events there.19 The couple handed
over the lampoon to authorities upon arrival in Arequipa. Santos de
Valencia reported that Tupac Amaru’s plan was to cut off food and water
for eight days if Cuzco didn’t surrender. If that didn’t work, he’d burn
the city. Another member of their party pointed out that some people in
Tupac Amaru’s camp, including a Bethlemite priest, disclosed that they
had been forced to participate. One priest, “don Justo,” [Father Justo
Gallegos] told him that once the rebels left, the people of the small town
of Layo “would turn their backs on and isolate the rebel.” They had only
feigned support because of coercion.20 Their testimonies portray a confi-
dent leader facing possible discontent in his ranks.
S ap
h
iR
ive
r
Sacsayhuaman
h
pus
alist
Roy
N
CUZCO
Municipal
Council Hall Cathedral
PLAZA
Picc hu DE ARMAS
La Compañia
PLAZA (Jesuit) Church
SAN FRANCISCO
iver
Pu qu í n jio R
spu
Sipa te
rou
ru’s
c Ama
Tupa
r
ive
0 2,000 ft
y oR
0 500 m
ma
cra
disobedience, and please bring a list of them without losing any time.”26
Some Indians from his home base had failed to join him.
In the fi nal days of December, Tupac Amaru mystified the royalists
by not sending forces to the north, where commander Gabriel de Avilés
approached the city. The rebels perhaps could have routed the tired and
outnumbered royalists, exhausted from the long journey from Lima.
Bishop Moscoso considered this a godsend, or at least a terrible tactical
error, and noted how the arrival of the Spanish commander and his
mulatto militiamen on January 1 raised the spirits of the city.27 Perhaps
Tupac Amaru did not have reliable intelligence about Avilés’s arrival or
feared losing a direct confrontation with Avilés’s well-armed and disci-
plined troops. Above all, it seems that Tupac Amaru envisioned enter-
ing the Inca capital triumphantly, with a few skirmishes but no major
battles. It would not be so easy.
Good news continued for the royalists after Avilés’s arrival. The in-
surgents had sent Antonio Castelo with a smaller contingent along the
Camino Real through the Vilcanota Valley in order to recruit, attack
royalist forces, ransack haciendas, and surround the city from the north.
He might also have been a diversion, allowing the bulk of the rebels to
move quickly through the hills. The priest of Urcos alerted Cuzco of
Castelo’s route, however, and on the evening of January 2, the cavalry
led by Joaquín de Valcárcel and Francisco Laisequilla demolished Cas-
telo’s forces in the town of Saylla, killing four hundred rebels and taking
a flag with Tupac Amaru’s coat of arms. The royalists took advantage of
their horses and slaughtered the rebels, who had little place to hide or
flee in this wide valley. Bishop Moscoso noted that many of the victims
had been important members of the rebellion, so powerful or affluent
that they slept in tents.28 He mentioned that some royalist Indians
would not touch the dead rebels or their belongings because they were
“excomulgados.”29 One partisan gleefully noted that the small number of
rebel survivors took to the hills, “possessed of a great fear.”30 Castelo
and his extensive family would soon betray the rebels. The fact that he
escaped led some historians to believe that his treachery might have
begun with this battle.31
More bad news came from the north, where Diego Cristóbal Tupac
Amaru failed to open a second front. He proceeded from Catca to Pisac,
planning to attack Cuzco from the Sacred Valley. Royalists stopped him
in Huayllabamba and, this time led by Pumacahua, in Yucay. Diego
In the fi nal days of December, residents of the city of Cuzco could see
thousands of troops amassing on the hills to the south and west. Some
reacted to the troop buildup with terror, others with ner vous anticipa-
tion or even delight. People tried to hide their valuables, shelter women
and children, and store food and water. Those who attempted to leave
the city encountered sentinels barring their way. An epic battle seemed
about to begin. Yet Tupac Amaru’s forces did not immediately plunge
into the city or push toward the arriving Spaniards in the plains or pam-
pas to the north. Instead, the rebel leader wrote detailed letters to Bishop
Moscoso, the people of Cuzco, and the city council, announcing his
plans and requesting permission to take the city. He sent the letters to
the junta’s general headquarters with three of his distinguished prison-
ers: Bernardo de la Madrid, Father Ildefonso Bejarano, and the Francis-
can friar Domingo Castro, all of whom quickly passed over to the royal-
ists. The bishop received the letters with shock and indignation; the city
council deemed the letters pretentious and “ridiculous.”33 Critics main-
tained that Tupac Amaru lost valuable time with the correspondence,
allowing Avilés’s forces to arrive and the city to prepare. The letters
themselves are an interesting entryway into his plans and mindset.
In a cover letter included with the longer note to the bishop, Tupac
Amaru complained that Moscoso had not answered his previous corre-
spondence and requested that he post these new communications in
public places. He demanded that the bishop answer him, in coordina-
tion with the cathedral chapter, within twelve hours.34 In the letter,
Tupac Amaru stressed his religiosity and respect for the Catholic Church
and loyalty to the king. He explained that he targeted corregidors,
customs houses, and other “abuses,” having tired of waiting for some-
one else to defend his people from “theft, hom icides, and insults.” He
labeled the growing wave of exploitation in recent years, “a second
Pizarro,” [Francisco Pizarro, 147?–1541, the conquistador of the Incan
Empire and founder of Lima], a curious phrase as modern historians
have labeled the Bourbon Reforms “the second conquest.”35 Tupac Amaru
reassured Moscoso that the bishop— as well as the monasteries, convents,
and churches that he oversaw—had no need for concern with the upris-
ing. In fact, once the uprising achieved the abolition of Indians’ taxes,
the destruction of customs houses, and a pardon for his actions, Tupac
Amaru promised “to retire to a Thebes, requesting compassion.” He
closed by asking the bishop to send him the necessary titles and papers
for such radical changes, with no apparent sense of irony.36
In his letter to the city council, Tupac Amaru emphasized that in his
struggle “against Indian slavery” he sought to avoid “deaths and hostili-
ties” but that they, the city leaders, had been executing people, hanging
them without proper confession, and committing other atrocities. He
referred to the recent bloody repression in Calca and Chita. He threat-
ened that if they did not allow him to enter the city peacefully, he would
have to do so with “fire and blood.” The rebel leader requested that the
cabildo turn over their weapons and deemed his struggle a “defensive
war.” He also pointed out that the fact that he was the last royal Inca (“la
mia es la única que ha quedado de la sangre real de los Incas”) had motivated
him. His letter resembled a modern public relations campaign in which
he attempted to cast his opponents as the aggressor. As was the case
with his efforts to overturn his excommunication, he had little chance
to convince others. Authorities, of course, did not disseminate his letters
and maintained the upper hand in communications.
Tupac Amaru continued: bad authorities so exploited Indians, “sup-
pressing and dismissing the king’s dispositions,” that his people could
not even know the true God, and did little more than enrich the cor-
regidor and priests through “their sweat and work.”37 He vaguely noted
that once he got rid of the repartimiento and other Spanish institutions,
he would place one Indian and someone of “good consciousness” as
mayor [alcalde mayor] in each province. This person would be in charge
of justice and the Christian training of the Indians and would only re-
ceive a modest salary. He ended by underlining that despite these changes,
the king of Spain would continue to rule.38
tails, they include women and other camp followers who prepared food
and set up camp but only fought in extreme circumstances.47 With the
scary spectacle of tens of thousands of rebels just above the city and the
failure of the mulatto battalion in the fi rst skirmish, panic and pessi-
mism spread among the city’s royalist population. People prepared for
the rebel masses to take the city in the coming days. They ner vously
checked their provisions and wondered whether they could flee.
Yet this initial victory over the Lima mulattoes was the last for Tupac
Amaru. In the coming days, his troops sought to take control of the
northern entrances into the city and, above all, to occupy the former
Inca capital that stretched below them. They failed on both fronts. While
the arrival of the Lima troops boosted royalist morale, desperation also
prompted them to defend the city energetically and efficiently. Avilés’s
troops guarded the city center and used their artillery to halt rebel ad-
vances. Although the muskets and fusils often backfired, they intimi-
dated the rebels, who relied on lances, slings, and knives. In this period,
gunshot wounds almost invariably killed, although not immediately.
Indian troops from Chinchero led by Pumacahua and from Anta led by
kuraka Nicolás Rosas thwarted rebel efforts to take the northern
entryways.
Small groups of rebels pushed into the city, scrambling to attack iso-
lated royalist soldiers. They tested the defenders’ resolve. Some grabbed
supplies, defaced buildings, and even looted. These insurgents had dif-
ferent fates: some returned to rebel camp to describe the situation and
their own deeds, while others abandoned the rebels and sought to blend
in among the city’s heterogeneous population or turned themselves in
to commanders. Others were not so fortunate. Royalists shot them or
surrounded them and then executed them. Residents watched these
street fights with apprehension, cheering from the safety of their balco-
nies when soldiers captured rebels.
One account claimed that everyone in the city, “from the nobility to
the plebeians,” collaborated. This writer tabulated that royalists counted
on two thousand soldiers, as well as an unspecified number of Indians
from Anta, Chinchero, and Maras and the support of civilians and mem-
bers of the church.48 On January 8, the corregidor of Paruro, Manuel de
Castillo, arrived with eight thousand reinforcements, primarily Indians.
They attacked the rebels from their flanks and rear.49 If the rebels moved
too close to the city, royalists attacked their rearguard. But the city’s
when priests convinced him that he could be shot and killed. She argued
that people had told the bishop “countless falsehoods” about Tupac
Amaru, particularly that he was going to burn the city down. These ru-
mors encouraged Moscoso to enlist “all priests to arm themselves” and
nuns to leave the monasteries.55 Moscoso’s supporters later contested the
view that he had been conciliatory, stressing instead his fervent and ef-
fective military measures. What is beyond doubt is that priests led by
Bishop Moscoso helped convince the city’s masses to reject the rebels.
The royalists benefitted from traitors in the rebel camp. Juan Anto-
nio Figueroa, a Galician taken prisoner in Tungasuca, was in charge of
the insurgents’ dozen or so rustic cannons and their artillery. Most of
the cannons, pedreros, had been made quickly and poorly in Tinta.56 He
aimed the cannons, a brutally effective weapon when fi red from a hill-
side against a cluster of people, high and off target and also sabotaged
their ammunition. He dumped some ammunition into a stream, claim-
ing that the rain had damaged it.57 Another prisoner, Bernardo de la
Madrid, had gained the rebel leaders’ trust. They sent him in the midst
of the siege of Cuzco to negotiate with the royalists. The city’s authori-
ties met him with great joy—most thought him dead— and de la Ma-
drid had no trouble convincing them that that he had been a captive
and had escaped at the fi rst opportunity. In his account, he claimed
that a few days later, on January 8, he charged to the front line to take
thirty-five shots at the rebels. Prosecutors did not charge him.58 Tupac
Amaru and Micaela Bastidas’s misgiving about these European “allies”
proved correct.
The rebels suffered in the miserable conditions in their camp and
dissent grew. The cold rain made for very uncomfortable days and espe-
cially nights for the rebels, most of whom did not have any sort of cover
besides their ponchos. The two sides clashed in bloody hand-to-hand
combat and the guns and cannons added to the carnage. Tupac Amaru
and many of his supporters recognized that the mass uprising from
within the city that he expected and needed was not going to take place
and that taking the former Inca capital might require weeks of fighting.
The nebulous group of creole supporters he believed he counted on in
the city abandoned him, if they ever supported him. Pessimism spread
among the rebels. Many slipped away the night of January 6, ex-
hausted, frightened, and dubious about Tupac Amaru’s leadership or
invincibility.
who had escaped from Tupac Amaru told one commander that the en-
emy was “broken” (deshecho).65 Bishop Moscoso described with great
satisfaction “the enormous desertions” among rebel troops, but also
chided the royalist commanders for not attacking at this point and al-
lowing the rebels to regroup in Yanacocha.66 Nonetheless, the insur-
gents could not mount another offensive and Tupac Amaru would only
return to Cuzco three months later, in a very different context.
Scholars and others have long debated why Tupac Amaru did not
take Cuzco. Many question his timing, arguing that he should have at-
tacked in November, rather than shore up forces in the south. Others
wonder why he did not move more quickly in December. If he had at-
tacked prior to Christmas, he could have taken the city before Avilés
and his mulatto militiamen reached it. Perhaps he took his time because
he still hoped for Diego Cristóbal to push from the north and distract the
royalists. The more relevant question is why he failed to take Cuzco
when he surrounded it with tens of thousands of rebels in late 1780.
One highly critical review from late January 1781 gave four reasons:
the rebel leadership lacked food and money; the city was well supplied
with soldiers and supplies and also counted on formidable defensive
positions; Tupac Amaru lost confidence and increasingly believed that
taking the city “seemed impossible”; and “people are abandoning him
since they see he can’t even offer a salary to survive on.”67 Generally
sympathetic to Tupac Amaru, most historians have stressed his ulti-
mately naïve belief that the city would capitulate and his refusal to win
by slaughtering thousands of Indians. According to these accounts, he
delayed and finally decided not to push into the city because he under-
stood that a victory was only possible at the cost of the lives of thousands
of Indians, rebels, and royalists.68 Contemporaries found other explana-
tions. One 1781 account, while mentioning rebel desertions, the lack of
support from the city’s lower classes, and Diego Cristóbal’s failure to
arrive, ultimately credited Our Lady of the Rosary, whom “the people
had invoked after every sound of gunfi re with an Ave Maria.” The an-
nual Our Lady of the Rosary feast commemorates the Christian victory,
that of the Holy League, against the Ottoman Empire in Lepanto in
1571. Some attributed the victory, which impeded further Muslim ex-
cursions into Europe, to persistent praying of the rosary. Many Cuzco
residents also felt that, similarly, they had miraculously defeated the
heathen hordes.69
or other ailments thus seems highly likely. Tupac Amaru had not re-
ceived the support he expected in the city of Cuzco and also witnessed
many of his troops fleeing. Widespread illness aggravated this situation,
giving the royalists a great psychological and physical advantage.73
Retreat
Cuzco residents celebrated their defense of the city with religious pro-
cessions and festivities. Bishop Moscoso blessed the military barracks,
located in the Jesuit college on the corner of the Plaza de Armas, and
declared victory with a rousing “vivat Rex in Aeternum.” Circumventing
trenches and the other remains of the fighting, the Bishop toured the
battle area and visited wounded soldiers. Men and women cheered
loudly from balconies, windows, and doors, fanning their hats, shawls,
and handkerchiefs.74 Some concerns soured the celebrations, however.
Three months of warfare had ruined much of the harvest and authorities
worried about impending food shortages. Rebels had stolen food, razed
haciendas, expelled property owners and overseers, and blocked trade
routes. Castelo’s advance into Cuzco up the valley had been particu-
larly destructive and the rebels still controlled the Vilcanota Valley and
the western entrance into the city. Moscoso himself believed that they
should have pursued the rebels and fi nished them off. He understood
that the uprising was not over and that they had lost an opportunity to
capture the leader and decimate his followers.75
Tupac Amaru retreated to Ocoruro and from there to Acomayo, re-
uniting with Micaela and other family members and allies who had
remained behind. According to one unsympathetic account, “he en-
tered Acomayo with far too much arrogance for a defeated and scorned
aspirant.” He forced the priest to receive him with honors and then
took Mass kneeling, “in pharisaical style.” In what the writer cast as a
sign of divine aversion to the rebel leader, the priest and the church as-
sistants could not open the sacrarium, which had been working fi ne
before his arrival. Tupac Amaru invited himself to lunch at the priest’s
house, where he explained that he had retreated because the royalists
had put Indians on the front lines, “as bait,” and because the mestizos
who had been in charge of his fusils had lost their courage. This expla-
nation has been repeated by the accounts most sympathetic to Tupac
Amaru, placing the blame on his good heart and mestizo treachery
rather than his tactics or wavering social base. He told the priest that he
would recruit more soldiers and would not give up on his “principal
idea of taking Cuzco.”76
An anonymous royalist made fun of Tupac Amaru’s leadership, jib-
ing that “an army of mice led by a lion is better than an army of lions led
by a mouse.”77 José Rafael Sahuaraura Titu Atauchi, a kuraka whose
1784 Estado del Perú defended Bishop Moscoso from accusations of rebel
sympathies, wrote that “many Indians who had been with Tupac Amaru
in the siege told me on their return that their Inca had cried a great deal
in Yanacocha over not being received as King in Cuzco.”78 In its account,
the city council boasted that the “city managed to free itself from the as-
sault and prevent the Rebel’s twisted plan of taking the city. This was his
desire, because if he had taken possession of the old kingdom’s capital,
the court of his Incas, his perverse ideas would have taken an imaginary
triumphal step. Freed from the anguish that had torn at their souls, the
city’s inhabitants, especially women and nuns, offered their thanks and
praise to God.”79
Yet alongside the celebrations, taunts, and exploration of how or
why they had repelled his attack, royalists understood that the uprising
was not over. The same writer who described the diarrhea and hunger
in the rebel camp mused, “We don’t know what the rebel will do with
himself or the route that he will take but it’s a beautiful opportunity to
hunt him down as soon as possible and so the Cuzco troops will soon
go after him.” This was on the mark: Royalists in Cuzco did not know
Tupac Amaru’s next steps but went on the attack.80
Tupac Amaru also faced new challenges. The Spanish had a mass,
united army focused on trapping him. It was one thing to storm into
town and topple a small militia; it was another to confront six well-
armed columns. He also faced internal divisions and dissension that
had not surfaced prior to the battle of Cuzco. Micaela and he struggled
to maintain order, to prevent violence against non-Spaniards and non-
combatants, and to make sure that the troops did not sneak home. Dis-
cipline and desertion became a problem for both sides. Moreover, while
the news from Titicaca was positive, the reports of rebel massacres and
bloodletting troubled José Gabriel and Micaela. The insurgents were
winning in the south, but not in the way that the Tinta rebels had en-
visioned. In the midst of the frenzied hunt for José Gabriel and the
other leaders, the nature of the struggle was changing.
Fanning Out
The army divided its troops into six columns. The first included 310
dragoons (infantrymen), 100 of them mounted infantry, and 2,000 In-
dians from the Calca highlands. The second column had 950 cavalry
drawn from Lima, Cuzco, and surrounding areas, and 2,000 additional
Indians from Maca, Abancay, and Chinchero. All six columns followed
this pattern; Indians from the Cuzco area greatly outnumbered soldiers
from coastal Lima. Put another way, the composition of the royalist
troops reflected Peru’s demography; most were Indians, followed in order
by mestizos, blacks and black mixed races, creoles, and Spaniards.3 The
army also mirrored social hierarchies. Spanish and creoles led and
other groups, with the exception of kurakas, served as soldiers. The In-
dians had been “volunteered” by their kurakas or dragooned by Span-
ish forces en route to Cuzco. Some, perhaps, had joined on their own
volition. In any case, they remained anonymous except when they got
into trouble. No Spanish report ever named a common Indian who
died fighting for the royalists. Blacks and mulattoes came from Lima.
Some fought for pay, others because they had been forced. All of the
coastal troops suffered with the altitude.
Some rebel deserters joined the royalists because they were dis-
heartened with the uprising, knowing that this would in most cases
exempt them from punishment as insurgents. Some who had aban-
doned the rebel forces found themselves hundreds of miles from home
and joined the royalists for food and, eventually, permission to return
home. Commanders complained about Indian soldiers’ lack of disci-
pline and commitment. In contrast, the indigenous troops led by kurakas
such as Pumacahua had demonstrated their skill and determination in
battle.
The official account tallied 17,116 soldiers in Cuzco in March, al-
though the actual number may have been over 20,000.4 They had over
three thousand fusils, the light fl intlock musket that had replaced the
harquebus, as well as numerous cannons. These proved invaluable in
scattering the enemy, although their transport through the precipitous
Andes required herculean effort.
Leaving one thousand soldiers to defend Cuzco, the Army’s six col-
umns fanned out, intending to converge on the rebel base around
Tinta. The elaborate military chart and map reveal the increased troop
count and precise planning, a vast improvement over the royalist ef-
forts just months earlier.5
N
Urubamba
Urubamba
Paucartambo
Calca
Vi l c a b a m b a
Pisac
CUZCO
Caicay
Ocongate
Urcos
Cotabambas Ausangate
Paruro
Rondocán
Quiquijana
Acos Acomayo
Tambobamba
Accha Pitumarca
Sangarará Checacupe
Pampamarca
Combapata
Tungasuca Tinta
Yanaoca Sicuani
Colquemarca Livitaca
Apu
rima c River
Santo Tomás
Velille
lake
0 20 miles Yauri
Coporaque
0 20 km
del Valle drove his forces over the sheer mountain passes that lead to
Tinta rather than through the pleasant valley path. He knew that in the
narrow canyonlike valley, the rebels would pick his men off with their
favorite weapons, boulders sent careening down hills or rocks from their
slingshots. Instead, royalist troops had to climb precipitous and icy slopes,
their heads pounding due to the thin air.9
Although disappointed by their failure to take Cuzco and concerned
about desertions and the difficulties in supplying their troops, Tupac
Amaru and Micaela Bastidas still led a formidable force. While uni-
formed Spanish troops with cannons, shotguns, and horses intimidated
the people of Cuzco, the rebel forces terrified well-to-do locals. The
breakdown of discipline among the insurgents after the failed siege of
Cuzco, although detrimental in the long run, made them even more fear-
some. In the months to come, rebel leaders complained that their troops
stopped following orders to limit their violence and looting. Unrestrained
rebel hordes, no longer under the control of leaders, constituted a royal-
ist nightmare. Moreover, thousands of rebels still worked in unison and
proved to be fearsome adversaries in the rugged terrain south of Cuzco.
Bishop Moscoso lamented in a January 21 letter that in their return to
Tungasuca, Tupac Amaru and his forces had fought with “blood and
fi re,” especially against Spaniards and mestizos. He worried that they
would return to attack Cuzco.10
In the ever more intense confl ict, Tupac Amaru and Micaela Basti-
das continued their 1780 roles: he the frenetic, mobile commander and
she the logistics chief who stayed closer to base. He remained on the
move, rarely sleeping in the same place two nights in a row, and pre-
pared to shift the fight from Cuzco to the Titicaca area. On January 14,
José Gabriel instructed his commanders in the south, in Carabaya,
Lampa, and Azángaro, to prepare “their Indians,” demanding that they
shelter people from news about the failed attack on Cuzco.11 Micaela
Bastidas managed the building of fortifications, aware that as she had
feared since November, the royalists would attack the rebel base. They
constructed a defensive wall outside of Combapata and dug trenches in
Tinta. She continued to organize the rebels’ provisions, desperately
calling on her followers to send soldiers and food and to maintain dis-
cipline.12 In early 1781, they rebuilt their forces, recruiting wherever
they ventured and encouraging skeptical or frightened supporters.
They threatened deserters and other traitors with death.13
While all of the rebel troops fought in the name of Tupac Amaru,
admiring him and Micaela, some battled under other commanders.
Micaela did her best to make sure that the troops were paid (from what
they expropriated), in coin or goods. She also strove to guarantee suf-
ficient food, knowing that hungry troops would flee. On February 15,
1781, her brother, Antonio Bastidas, asked her for “coca and alcohol,
the two things that maintain our soldiers.” He also requested jerky and
wheat for his troops and some binoculars “to spot the enemy.” A month
later, a priest in Sicuani complained to Micaela about hunger due to
“extreme poverty.”14 The rebels’ commitment varied: some had given
up everything to fight for the “last Inca” while others saw it as a tempo-
rary struggle and planned to be home for the upcoming harvest. Some
had been forcibly recruited by their kuraka. Much of the rebel base
came from the indigenous towns and hamlets to the south of Cuzco, in
the river valley as well as the high peaks, but Tupac Amaru also re-
cruited more mobile people, indigenous and mestizo, who were not
tax-paying members of an Indian community.15
Tupac Amaru and Micaela Bastidas worried about desertions and
even treachery. Some important supporters had abandoned the rebels,
including the Castelo clan, led by the patriarch Melchor and his son
Antonio, who staged a mutiny in Sicuani after the failed siege of Cuzco.
Antonio had been the rebel leader in the disastrous defeat in Saylla in
late December, when royalists had blocked them from entering the Inca
capital. Once back in Sicuani, they called for other creoles to rise up
against Tupac Amaru and threatened those who remained faithful to
the rebels. Their efforts might have been a last-ditch ploy to avoid roy-
alist repression. They understood that the end was near and thus tried
to convince authorities that they no longer supported the rebels and
could even be valuable in the uprising’s repression.
Both the mutiny and the ploy failed. Rebels killed several members
of the Castelo family in an ambush. The historian David Cahill con-
tends that the Castelo family’s treachery eased Tupac Amaru’s misgiv-
ing about anticreole violence among his supporters and that, after the
mutiny, rebels increasingly targeted the American-born elite.16 The
sixty-year-old Antonio Castelo turned himself in to del Valle in April
but authorities treated him as an insurgent—particularly galling to the
colonial courts because of his social background as someone of Euro-
pean descent— and tried him as a rebel commander and insider. Wit-
nesses deemed him a recruiter and captain. Castelo claimed that he had
been coerced, but to no avail—he was found guilty and executed.17
Rebel lieutenants reported cases where the local population resisted
participating in or collaborating with the uprising. On January 11, one
Francisco Torres wrote Tupac Amaru, “beloved father of all my heart
and my lord, father of all the poor and all the miserable and helpless,”
that in a small town in Paruro an Indian woman insulted him and re-
fused to hand over mules and wheat. Referring to the requisitioning of
supplies, the brave woman stated, “the Inca does these things only be-
cause he has nothing to show,” a stinging reference to the failed siege.18
Torres mentioned that in another town, locals were organizing against
the rebels, contending that “the Inca had lost all the souls.” This implied
that his troop numbers and general support had decreased, and perhaps,
with the term alma or soul, underlined his soullessness due to the excom-
munication.19 Tupac Amaru instructed Torres on January 17 to bring him
any troublemakers and to continue to seize goods.20 Indians in even the
most prorebel communities no doubt disliked having their goods confis-
cated. Torres, however, was in Paruro and Acomayo, provinces that had
provided many soldiers for the royalists and that were by no means rebel
strongholds. His letter indicates that local people spoke up against the up-
rising even in front of one of the major lieutenants, Torres, and that con-
fidence in the rebels had diminished after the failed siege.
In January and February 1781, the rebels fought on numerous fronts.
Forces led by Diego Cristóbal sieged Paucartambo, ravaging much of the
area. He failed, however, to take Calca in the Sacred Valley, running up
repeatedly against the royalist commander Pumacahua. Diego Cristóbal’s
troops retreated behind the icy glacier peaks of Ocongate and Laura-
marca, the snow-peaked mountains visible from Cuzco’s plaza.21 Tomás
Parvina, who like Tupac Amaru claimed royal Inca heritage, was one of
the rebellion’s major commanders. He had accompanied Tupac Amaru
to the south in November and then in December led the largely unsuc-
cessful forays into the Urubamba Valley, the brutal confrontations in
which the royalist kuraka Pumacahua came out on top. On January 25,
Parvina’s forces ambushed the royalist commander Isidoro Gutiérrez in
Chahuaytiri, a small Indian community that looms above the idyllic
town of Pisac.22 Royalists reported that rebel soldiers ate Gutierrez’s
heart, drank his blood, and proclaimed, “Spanish blood turned out to be
really tasty.”23 The story added fuel to the royalist propaganda that the
rebels were savages, and no doubt made many soldiers ner vous. Puma-
cahua counterattacked in the following days and Parvina and Diego
Cristóbal lost more than one thousand men.24
Did eating the heart and drinking blood reflect some type of Andean
ritual? Scholars have sought to explain the increasing brutality in terms
of traditions, both pre- and post-Conquest. Jorge Hidalgo showed that
the beheading of one prisoner and the extraction of his heart in Upper
Peru was an offering to the Inca deity of pachamama, mother earth.25
Scarlett O’Phelan Godoy underlined the parallels between rebel vio-
lence and that depicted by Guaman Poma’s fabulous illustrations in his
early-seventeenth-century Corónica Nueva.26 In his important study of
rebel violence against Europeans, Szeminski illuminated how Quechua
people understood the Spanish, particularly the concepts that could lead
to their exclusion from the category of “good Christian.” He also studied
how indigenous people employed alternative notions of history and jus-
tice.27 In seeking to understand the indigenous perspective on the upris-
ing, these views correct the royalists’ interpretation of the brutality as
mere confirmation of the Indians’ savagery and backwardness. None-
theless, the paucity of sources, particularly rebel accounts, makes this
type of interpretation challenging and, beyond these important contri-
butions, even questionable. Andean people varied greatly in 1780 (as
they did in 1480 or 1980) and cannot be lumped together. They also
changed over time. Szeminski used Mochican iconography (a pre-Inca
coastal civilization that flourished from CE 100 to CE 800) to understand
eighteenth-century mindsets.28 Studies that combine an understanding
of contemporary views of power and violence in the Andes (with field-
work in Quechua, a language I do not speak) with a reading of historical
sources can illuminate the indigenous mindset, past and present. The
authors cited above contribute by moving away from Eurocentric inter-
pretations. Yet any interpretation that relates brutality with Andean
traditions and mentalities needs a much greater set of sources and a
deeper understanding of local society than what we count on.
Not all of the battles pitted rebel and royalist soldiers. In some cases,
rebel-leaning towns assaulted those believed to be royalist, or vice versa.
For example, one document refers to the people of Colquemarca, Santo
Tomás, Quillota, and Llusco attacking those of Capi and Collabamba,
“with many dead and great damage done to estates, houses, and live-
stock.” The document noted that the rebels sought to cut down the Hua-
cachaca Bridge to isolate the region from Cuzco.29 One rebel commander
died in this confrontation and rebels forced a local priest to bury him
with full honors, paying 100 pesos. Bishop Moscoso subsequently initi-
ated proceedings against the priest, who claimed that he had been co-
erced and that once the rebels were gone he had dug up the body and
dumped it in a field.30 Behind these town-versus-town confrontations
lay decades of tensions as well as more ephemeral personal conflicts.31
ging not to be shot and promising valuable information. This was Yanu-
ario Castro, a kuraka from Pitumarca, who reported to del Valle that
Tupac Amaru planned a sneak attack that very evening or at dawn. The
rebel leader had ten thousand men, who he had inspired with “many
jugs of firewater (aguardiente), so that they would attack with the fury
that their malevolent leader desires.”36
Del Valle prepared his troops, who after taking their positions quickly
begged to return to their tents rather than die of cold. Although disheart-
ened by his troops’ softness, del Valle admitted that they all prayed for
dawn to come, preferring “to fight a million men” than stand knee-deep
in the snow. They had no hot meal for three days and survived on biscuits
and bits of stale bread.37 One anonymous account described “the days of
cruel snow and cold, the soldiers up all night knee-deep in the snow.”38
At dawn the attack began, with shouts in Quechua of “Viva King Tupac
Amaru.” Two rebel columns attacked the royalist troops and the third at-
tempted to seize their mules and supplies. Tupac Amaru had the advan-
tage. He had lured the royalists into the hills and concealed the where-
abouts and strength of his forces. Nonetheless, the rebels found the troops
ready for battle, not sleeping, as they had expected. The battle pitted del
Valle’s largely black vanguard, the Lima cavalry and dragoons, against
Tupac Amaru’s indigenous fighters. Rebels could not overpower the roy-
alist camp and by 8:00 a.m. most of them had withdrawn. Even with the
warning, del Valle’s troops barely repelled the attack, ultimately relying
on the fortunate arrival of a column led by Juan Manuel Campero.
Disgruntled soldiers complained bitterly to del Valle about their hun-
ger and fatigue. The following night, March 23, del Valle witnessed many
of his troops falling exhausted into the snow, unable to remain awake or
even seated. Noting that the exhaustion caused by days without sleep and
the bitter cold “would have defeated not just my soldiers but the robust
warriors of the King of Prussia,” he began a retreat toward the valley.39
Campero brought desperately needed food and alcohol while a priest col-
lected firewood, clothing, and more food for the starving, frostbitten roy-
alists, who retreated to the Vilcanota River basin. The Spanish had learned
not to confront the rebels in the higher mountain peaks.
Tupac Amaru expressed his frustration over the near miss in Puca-
casa, ridiculing the royalists’ cowardice.40 While the Black militia mem-
bers and Pumacahua’s forces remained loyal to del Valle, Indians who
had joined the royalists after the frustrated siege of Cuzco deserted en
masse. Del Valle also learned that royalist indigenous troops from Anta,
Abancay, and Huamanga had returned to their towns. He wanted to
track them and execute every tenth man, the diezmado, but realized that
the circumstances made it impossible. He bitterly described the desertion
of “many Indians from among our auxiliary troops from Chinchero and
Anta, who took with them many sacks of coca leaves and wheat and
spread the rumor that I had sent them home and suspended the cam-
paign until Easter.” The commander called for severe reprisals, “because
of the bad consequences their malicious lies can have and because I now
understand that we will get nothing out of this dim, disaffected nation
[Indians] by treating them with contemplation and suavity.” 41 Del Valle’s
opinion of Indians would become even more acidic in the coming months.
After near disaster in Pucacasa, del Valle led his troops down to-
ward the rebel center around Tinta. The rebels had destroyed the Urcos
Bridge, so the royalists lost several days crossing the Vilcanota River, at
its raging peak at the end of the rainy season. Del Valle knew that the
royalists had little chance for success in the remote, high mountain passes,
and instead sought something closer to a classic military engagement in
the Vilcanota Valley. After days in the snowy mountain peaks, he ex-
tolled the valley’s “benign temperature and abundant food.” 42 His ac-
count, however, demonstrates a limited knowledge of the region; he
named only a few of the larger towns found on colonial maps and de-
scribed the challenging topography more than political geography. He
observed that the rebels didn’t take full advantage of the narrow passes
and deep canyons. Although this seemed to surprise him, he generally
minimized the rebels’ talent and intelligence, stressing instead, when
recognizing their military prowess, Indians’ supposed bloodthirsty na-
ture and blind devotion to Tupac Amaru. Del Valle mentioned that the
rebels attacked “from the left and the right” and surrounded them at
night, peppering the royalist camp with light cannons and fusils.
Del Valle’s troops encircled Quiquijana, a rebel stronghold. He ini-
tially calculated that it would take fifteen days and much bloodshed to
take the town, but Quiquijana’s parish priest got a note through to him
that the rebels had fled to join Tupac Amaru elsewhere. Royalist troops
entered the town and found only women and the elderly cowering in the
church. They tearfully begged del Valle for a pardon, pleading that he
not torch their houses and haciendas. The Spanish commander hanged
Luis Pomainga, a distant relative of Tupac Amaru and another sus-
ing of violence and the conversion of the enemy into a wretched “other”
seen as deserving abuse and death. As was the case in other rebellions
and wars, as casualties and mortalities mounted, combatants on both
sides sought revenge (and the upper hand) and employed increasingly
brutal tactics not seen in the initial combats. Desperation and hatred
deepened and each side killed captives and desecrated cadavers. This fer-
vor fed into and fostered each side’s understanding of the other as non-
Christians or savages, interpretations that justified greater violence.
In the midst of this violence and chaos, Tupac Amaru and Visitador
Areche wrote one another, seeking to explain their plans and, perhaps,
negotiate some sort of accord. Their correspondence resembled a chess
match, as each side tried to inflate its base and narrow that of the en-
emy. Tupac Amaru insisted that he was only fighting against evil Span-
iards while Areche cast the rebels as a small, aberrant band of violent
apostates who would soon be annihilated. Although propaganda pieces,
the letters shed light on both sides and the state of affairs in early 1781.
a kuraka, had died in Sangarará.55 Tupac Amaru later claimed that his
scribe, Francisco Cisneros, a member of his inner circle, Felipe Bermú-
dez, and Sahuaraura himself had helped him write it.56 José Gabriel
began with a respectful, even obsequious, tone and then explained that
after Arriaga’s death, he went to Cuzco to fulfi ll “His Majesty’s wishes,”
referring to the Spanish king, and withdrew in order to avoid blood-
shed. He did not mention his prior foray to the south or his violent ac-
tions. José Gabriel claimed that he wanted to avoid the examples of the
Roman emperor Vespasian and his son Titus regarding the siege of Je-
rusalem. With this, the rebel leader made it clear that he did not want
Cuzco to be sacked. Turning to the Old Testament, he cited King Saul,
whose defeat and death at the hands of the Philistines at Mount Gilboa
crippled the kingdom of Israel, and compared his own struggle against
the Spanish with that of David and Goliath.57
Tupac Amaru described in great detail how corregidors oversaw a
corrupt web of activities that ignored both Spanish law and Indian
well-being. After expounding on brutal conditions in haciendas and
textile mills and how the scant wages prevented Indians from paying
the head tax, he asked who were the true apostates and traitors: Indi-
ans or corregidors?58 Building on a much-discussed theme in the eigh-
teenth century, he complained that priests did not maintain churches
or their own appearance and focused more on charging exorbitant fees
rather than offering Mass itself. Tupac Amaru also grumbled that these
priests “as foreigners don’t know the language [Quechua], this means
that there are twenty-year-old girls and boys who don’t even know how
to cross themselves.” This was an unusual complaint, for rebels rarely
referred to the need for Quechua-speaking priests. Throughout the let-
ter, he stressed his deep Catholicism and made almost no reference
to the brutal war that he and the recipient, Visitador Areche, were
waging.59
On March 5, 1781, Areche published his decree offering a pardon for
most insurgents and a reward for those who helped capture the upris-
ing’s leaders. He described the rebellion’s sacrilegious nature and de-
structive ways, and explained its mass following in terms of the leaders’
“vain, unjust, and damned” promises to naïve followers as well as in-
timidation through threats and punishment. He demanded that the de-
cree be published in Quechua and Spanish and posted in “every town
and place possible.”60
long letters was the best use of their time in light of the almost inces-
sant fighting.
Areche’s correspondence also reflected how much Andean people
and topography exasperated him. On March 1, before leaving Cuzco,
he wrote Gálvez in Madrid that Indians believed that the rebellion
“would mean the end of the church, priests, the head tax, corregidors,
repartimientos, obrajes, mitas, customs houses, and chapetones and Euro-
peans. They also think that if they die in the action of crowning [the
Inca], they will resuscitate on the third day.”66 To Areche, the end of
Spanish rule and resurrection were equally absurd beliefs. Although he
noted mass desertions on the rebel side and the increasing reliance on
coercion—hangings and beheadings—to maintain discipline, clear signs
for him of rebel decline, he glumly reported Indians’ primitive Catholi-
cism and deep— but for him, false—memory of the Incas, “forgetting
the oppression they suffered under them.” In his mind, Indians’ shal-
low religiosity and reverence for the Incas would make them difficult to
defeat or to assimilate. Areche explained his shock and disappointment
with the widespread use of Quechua: “It pains me deeply to walk this
land without understanding what is spoken to me, despite the king’s
repeated insistence that the natives be taught Spanish.”67 Only a bloody
uprising forced a high crown official to visit the Andean hinterland and
experience multilingual Peru. Areche not only censured Indians’ ele-
mentary Christianity and Spanish, but also blamed lax policies in Lima,
specifically the viceroy’s inability to crush “insolent malcontents” as
well as those who refused to pay the royal treasury. Areche’s dislike for
Viceroy Jáuregui and his fervent opposition to Quechua, linked to the
belief that Spanish language and culture had to be imposed in the An-
des, marked the struggles within the Spanish camp and disagreements
over policy in the coming months and years.
Capture
Urcos and waiting for the last columns to approach from Cuzco, in late
March royalist forces moved down the valley toward rebel headquarters.
Rebel forces led by Tupac Amaru harassed the Spanish with hit-and-run
attacks, artillery fire, and their one mobile cannon, from Urcos to Com-
bapata. The fifth royalist column, which had pushed to the southwest,
confronted rebels in Paruro, Cotabambas, and the upper provinces, de-
feating and killing Parvina and Bermúdez. After skirmishes in Paruro,
the fourth column joined it.
In late March, as snow and hail began to fall in the higher peaks, the
royalists pushed closer and closer to the rebel base north of Tinta, in the
hills just above the valley where the Salca River feeds into the Vilca-
nota. They recognized that they were outnumbered but also knew, from
deserters, that the insurgents were running low on supplies. Pumaca-
hua’s troops dislodged the rebels from advantageous positions on the
mountainside. On April 4, the royalist second column led by Lieutenant
Colonel Villalta arrived, converging with del Valle’s column. That night,
the rebels attacked Villalta’s column, beheading four sentinels. A fifth
fired his gun and the suddenly awakened royalists rushed into battle
formation. Del Valle, however, ordered that they lie on the ground to
lure the enemy into range. Once the rebel front line was almost on top
of the hail-covered soldiers, the royalists shot their muskets in unison,
killing many and causing the survivors to flee. The rebels left behind
their five cannons.69 In open battle on relatively open, flat ground with-
out the element of surprise working for the rebels, the royalists now had
the advantage. Using their superior cavalry and weaponry, the colonial
forces attacked, moving quickly to surround the insurgents and force
them into the valley. Perhaps a deserter had informed them of the rebels’
strength and exact location.70 A charge by black militia members again
broke the rebel lines and gunshots left “an infi nite number of wounded”
and hundreds dead.71 The royalists were on the offensive.
According to one report, the horrific bloodshed and the loss of can-
nons, weapons, and other supplies stunned Tupac Amaru, who was in
the midst of his troops.72 He raced on horseback and plunged into the
Vilcanota/Combapata River to save himself, nearly drowning. Royalists
took hours to cross the river— the rebels had destroyed the bridge— and
del Valle claimed that Tupac Amaru wrote a frenzied note to Micaela:
“Many brave soldiers are coming after us; we have no alternative but
to die.”73
The bulk of the royalist troops came through Combapata, where the
rebels had built their fort. Del Valle used five cannons and gunfire to
destroy the wall that the rebels had constructed, forcing the insurgents to
flee. Other than seven prisoners, del Valle found Tinta deserted. Among
the rebel leader’s belongings, they discovered a portrait of Tupac Amaru
on horseback in the midst of the Sangarará victory that Tupac Amaru or
Micaela had commissioned. To the consternation of authorities in Cuzco
and generations of historians, the royalists destroyed the painting,74
Enticed by the promise of a significant reward, royalists rushed south
after the rebel leaders. On April 7, soldiers trapped Micaela, two of her
sons, Hipólito and Fernando, and other family members as they sought
to escape toward La Paz via Livitaca. In hindsight, Micaela had waited
too long for Tupac Amaru. Some accounts claim that their decision to
take valuable but heavy treasure such as gold and silver delayed their
departure from Tinta and slowed down their escape. Micaela admitted
having three pairs of earrings, eleven rings, golden buckles, a golden
necklace, bits of gold, 600 pesos (en plata sellada), four boxes of gold, “a lot
of” silver, and clothing and textiles. The Spanish believed she hid much
more.75
Separated from Micaela since the March battles, Tupac Amaru fled to
Langui, the area south of rebel headquarters that they had always pro-
jected as their escape route. In Langui, Ventura Landaeta, one of Tupac
Amaru’s followers, insisted that he rest before continuing his retreat. He
also urged Tupac Amaru to stay and resist rather than run. Tupac Amaru
realized too late that it was a ruse. Landaeta and another traitor, Fran-
cisco Santa Cruz, restrained him with the aid of local women and the
local priest, Antonio Martínez, until mulatto militiamen, who had
tracked him since his escape in the Vilcanota River, seized him. Tupac
Amaru offered 200,000 pesos for his freedom but to no avail. The soldiers
quickly tied up the rebel leader.76 Just weeks after having nearly routed
the royalists in the snowy peaks, Tupac Amaru was now in shackles.
A well-armed battalion transferred Tupac Amaru and about thirty
prisoners— the estimates vary— to Tinta. Authorities hanged at least
sixty-seven prisoners, lower-level followers, in the following days. Ter-
rified Indians watched these grisly rituals, praying to be incorporated
in the general pardon promised by royalist leaders.77 Royalists killed
hundreds and perhaps thousands more— the number cannot be veri-
fied. The execution of Indians rarely left a paper trail, particularly in
the towns outside of the Vilcanota Valley. Unlike del Valle and Areche,
who had to inform Cuzco, Lima, and Madrid of their actions, lesser
commanders did not send formal reports and were disinclined to detail
the slaughter of the enemy. Spanish forces seized weapons, ammuni-
tion, food, silver, and items reportedly taken from churches in Langui
and Tinta. Rumors lingered for years about a hidden treasure of gold
and silver.78 Del Valle calculated that he had seized two trunks full of
papers, providing Areche “all you need to fi nd out about the origin of
this raucous uprising.” One commentator wryly noted that these
sources might make his accomplices in the city of Cuzco “lose sleep.”79
On April 8, Tupac Amaru wrote letters from Tinta to his cousin Diego
Cristóbal, Andrés Mendigure, and other commanders asking them to
turn over their arms and to trust del Valle. Few believed in his sincerity
and although common indigenous people turned themselves in, claim-
ing they had nothing to do with the uprising or had been forced to fight,
rebel officers did not fall for the trap.80 Rumors arrived that Diego Cris-
tóbal would attempt to rescue his uncle in the road from Urcos to Cuzco
and royalists reinforced the substantial and heavily armed troops that
watched over their prize captives, all of whom had their arms and legs
tied and chained. On April 14, with Visitador Areche in the lead, the
convoy reached Cuzco. The city, “crazy with happiness,” had been cele-
brating for days. Around the clock church bells helped spread the news.81
Behind royalist euphoria, however, lay trouble. Rebels sneaked into Che-
cacupe after it had been taken by the royalists, killing the local priest,
Spaniards, and women and children who apparently supported the
Spanish.82 The Spanish would greatly regret that Diego Cristóbal, Andrés
Mendigure, and Mariano Tupac Amaru had not been captured. The re-
bellion was not over. Moreover, Areche sought to prevent del Valle from
taking credit for the capture and these two rivals increasingly clashed. In
the months to come, infighting would develop into a broader split be-
tween moderates, who sought negotiations with the rebels, and hard-
liners, who believed exterminating the enemy and Andean culture was
the only solution. This clash would shape not only the outcome of the
rebellion but also the nature and fate of Spanish rule in Peru.
Torment
treasure, he claimed, were dead. He asked that they help rouse royalist
soldiers from Huamanga (an Andean area between Cuzco and Lima)
stationed in Cuzco, who might be convinced to aid his escape. Tupac
Amaru tried to sway the guards by insisting that his first targets would
be Visitador Areche, their commander, and the other “lying señores” of
the barracks.10 The guard, who could not read the note—it was barely
legible and he was presumably illiterate—told his commander and the
following day Mata Linares interrogated Tupac Amaru about it. The pris-
oner acknowledged the letter but denied that he had threatened Areche
and other Spaniards. That day, Tupac Amaru consistently irritated Mata
Linares by rejecting the major charges against him.
Frustrated that Tupac Amaru would not incriminate himself and
others for subversion, hom icide, theft, and other charges, and perhaps
concerned about further escape ploys, Mata Linares ordered on April
28 that he be tortured, el tormento de garrucha. While authorities rou-
tinely hit and underfed prisoners, they had never put to use such an
elaborate device. In the pulley torture or strappado, victims are sus-
pended from a pulley on the ceiling via a rope attached to their wrists,
their arms tied behind their backs. They are dropped and lifted, weights
suspended from their legs adding to the agony. Developed by the medi-
eval Inquisition, its victims have included Machiavelli and defendants
in the Salem witch trials.11
Garrucha
Elaborate forms of torture such as this were uncommon in highland
Peru. The Inquisition had been at the vanguard of implementing hor-
rific forms of bodily punishment, but the Holy Office did not have juris-
diction over Indians and did not maintain much of a presence outside
of Lima. Its active Lima office focused instead on Jews, Protestants, and
witches. Provincial cities and towns had stocks to punish and humili-
ate, while haciendas and textile mills counted on their own jails, stocks,
and other devices to punish.
The lack of formal torture in Cuzco’s jails does not mean, of course,
that prisoners were not mistreated. Authorities frequently beat prison-
ers and kept them hungry. Tupac Amaru’s half-brother, Juan Bautista,
described his mistreatment. When authorities arrested him, they
jammed his pinkies into the trigger guard of a musket and squeezed the
trigger until his fi ngers bled. They locked him in a fi lthy cell with com-
mon prisoners and constantly insulted and threatened him. The war-
den encouraged the guards to hit him. As a prisoner, Juan Bautista
Tupac Amaru was always hungry, surviving on bits of rotten meat that
could not be sold at the market.12 Yet even this abusive mistreatment
did not approach the sadistic level of suffering infl icted systematically
on Tupac Amaru.
On April 29, Mata Linares entered Tupac Amaru’s cell. He asked him
to reconsider his refusal to name accomplices in Lima and Cuzco and
those with whom he had corresponded, and then posed more specific
questions: whether it was true that he had been planning the uprising
for five years; whether he had mentioned it when he took confession; if
he spoke out against repartimientos in Lima, fostering rebellion; and
whether Mariano Barrera had written to him about a revolt when he
was in Lima, mentioning that “four provinces are with us and we could
move on to Cuzco and destroy the Spaniards.” Authorities worried that
if the rebellion had roots in Lima—which it did not—it could revive
even after the leaders’ execution. Tupac Amaru only acknowledged that
he had complained to his confessor about corregidors’ “extortions” and
mistreatment of Indians; the priests had instructed him to “leave every-
thing to God.”13 Mata Linares asked him several times to answer the
questions, which Tupac Amaru refused to do, and so the judge declared
that the defendant’s obstinacy forced him to resort to torture. He de-
clared that if Tupac Amaru had a leg or arm broken or if he died, it was
his fault, not Mata Linares’s.
The executioner made Tupac Amaru change into a coarse robe and
tied his legs together and his arms behind his back. He tightly fastened a
thick rope to his wrists and ran it through a pulley on the ceiling. He
attached “one hundred pounds of iron or lead” to his legs and lifted him
about six feet off the ground.14 This puts all the pressure on the prison-
er’s internal shoulder sockets; in most cases, it dislocates them.15 Mata
Linares asked Tupac Amaru again about his accomplices, specifically
people whom he had written in Cuzco, and when he declined to an-
swer, the executioner hoisted him up near the ceiling and dropped him,
catching the slack just before he hit the floor. According to one history
of torture, “the shock to the body, of this suddenly terminated fall, was
sufficient to jar every bone, joint, and nerve in the system. In most cases
it entailed dislocation. The process was repeated again and again until
Unimaginable Violence
The questioning continued in early May. The Spanish did not torture
Tupac Amaru or any of the other defendants again.20 Tupac Amaru con-
ceded knowing people with whom he had corresponded, hardly a shock-
ing admission, and acknowledged in vague fashion his long-festering
dislike for corregidors’ exploitation of Indians. He gave prosecutors al-
most no valuable information. Micaela Bastidas used a different tactic.
She claimed that Tupac Amaru told her little about the uprising and
that if she had asked him, he would have told her to “go away” [pasear]
or have hit her. She stated that he had wanted to strike her several
times and that she was too scared to run away. Later in the trial she
testified that Tupac Amaru abused her verbally and physically, by
whipping, kicking, striking, and slapping her and occasionally tying
her to a post.21 Tupac Amaru contradicted her (probably without know-
ing he was doing so), confirming that he consulted with her and admit-
ting that “It’s certain that before the uprising he sometimes whipped,
slapped, or beat her with a stick, but not once it began.”22 She also stressed
her ignorance and blamed the Spanish and creole scribes for the incrimi-
nating communications. Unfortunately for this line of defense, virtually
every testimony underlined her vigor and skill as a commander and her
leadership of the uprising. Several claimed Bastidas was better or fiercer
than her husband. Francisco Molina said “She gives written and verbal
orders with more rigor than the Rebel”; Manuel Galleguillos testified that
“her orders were stronger than those of her husband and her desire was to
kill all the Spaniards with blood and fire”; according to Mariano Banda,
“She gave more orders than anyone.”23 The documentation—including
dozens of her communications, which she probably dictated to someone
else—and the testimonies contradicted her strategy of casting herself as a
secondary character who was only following the orders of her violent
husband.24 Her defense lawyer requested that she be exempted from the
death penalty, and sent instead to a presidio in Africa.25 He was denied.
With the exception of Hipólito, Micaela and José Gabriel’s son, other de-
fendants denied the charges or blamed coercion. When asked about
whether he sought a rebellion, Hipólito admitted, “It’s true that I have
desired it.”26
One piece of evidence prompted additional questioning in the trial
and has intrigued analysts for centuries. Upon his arrest royalists found
a proclamation in one of Tupac Amaru’s pockets, styling him “Don Jo-
seph the First by the Grace of God, Inca of Peru, Santa Fe, Quito, Bue-
nos Aires and the Continent on these South Seas, Duke of the Superla-
tive, Lord of the Caesars and Amazons, with Dominions in the Great
Paititi, Commissary Distributer of the Divine Piety Inheritance”.27 It
stated that “our council” had ascertained in multiple meetings that the
“kings of Castile have usurped the Crown from me and the dominion
of our people for nearly three centuries,” and have “imposed on our
subjects unbearable burdens of taxes, ser vice, duties, customs, sales tax,
monopolies, land taxes, tithes, and fifths [quintos]. . . . The administration
of justice always favors those who offer and pay the most.”28 The proc-
lamation called for no taxes to be paid to the “European intruders,”
whereas the priesthood should be “honored” with the tithe and other
payments. It ended by demanding that it be posted in cities, towns, and
villages throughout “his dominion.” The proclamation reached Huaro-
chirí outside of Lima, and New Granada—present-day Colombia. Tupac
Amaru, however, denied writing it. He claimed that Micaela had men-
tioned it to him and thought that it might have come from the mayor of
the town of Marcapata.29 For prosecutors, it was a sign that he sought
“not only to rise up but also to rule this vast kingdom.”30 They added
this charge to the accusations.
Tupac Amaru became ill on May 2— probably from the effects of
the torture days before— and this, as well as his efforts to write sup-
porters and organize an escape, encouraged prosecutors to hurry. They
wanted him alive for the execution. He testified several more times,
stressing his work to defend Indians from the brutal and ultimately un-
Christian ways of corregidors and other authorities.31 José de Saldívar y
Saavedra, an additional prosecutor or fi scal, summarized the charges:
hom icide, parricide— as Arriaga was the paternal authority of the area—
and lèse-majesté, the most heinous form of treason. He noted that these
important captures had not stopped the uprising and that nothing else
could be gained from interrogating Tupac Amaru, who had not pro-
vided useful information “not only in the first interrogation but even
during the garrucha torture session, which, even though among the stron-
gest sessions, had no effect on him. Tenacious in his denial, he did not
confess to any of the accusations.”32
Authorities instructed Tupac Amaru to hire a lawyer for the sen-
tencing phase but when he said he did not have one, they named Miguel
Iturrizarra, a lawyer and priest. The defense attorney requested that
Tupac Amaru be absolved or that the punishment be lightened. Yet Itur-
rizarra recognized the “gravity” of the crimes and did not make a con-
vincing case for leniency. In general, the defense attorneys in all of
these cases did not question whether the defendants were guilty—they
assumed this— but instead sought to gain leniency in the sentencing.33
On May 9, prosecutors accused Tupac Amaru of propagating the
news of his uprising in London and Madrid, via a Jesuit. They referred
to an article published in London on October 6, 1780.34 The Jesuits had
been expelled in 1767 and many subsequently wrote piercing indict-
The small fields were essentially access rights while the hacienda pre-
sumably, if it followed the normal pattern for the area, had numerous
liens and mortgages. He owned three hundred mules. He did not sign
this testimony, his last, because of a “disconcerted” wrist.38
On May 15, 1781 Visitador Areche pronounced his sentence. He un-
derlined that Tupac Amaru had led a “rebellion or general uprising by
Indians, mestizos, and other castes” planned for over five years and
initiated throughout the Peruvian viceroyalty and that of Buenos Aires,
with the intention of crowning himself king and liberator of “that type
of inhabitant whom he managed to seduce,” that is, Indians. Areche
accused him of Arriaga’s death and of attempted jailbreaks. Areche in-
sisted on the need for a rapid execution since many Indians were “full
of superstitions, which lead them to think that the death penalty is im-
possible for him due to the high nature of his character, believing him a
descendent of the main line of the Incas, as he called himself, and thus
absolute and natural owner of these dominions.” Areche denounced In-
dians and other members of the “plebian castes” for having joined the
uprising due to their ignorance and naïveté and contended that “their
implacable hatred toward Europeans or even all white faces or pukacunkas
as they call them” led to “devastation, insults, horrors, robberies, deaths,
rapes, unimaginable violence, church desecrations, vilification of Span-
ish officials, and made a mockery of our most important weapon, ex-
communication, as they considered themselves immune or outside its
reach.”39 Areche firmly blamed Tupac Amaru and the leadership but also
berated Indians and other lower-class followers for their foolishness and
distance from Spanish ways, which allowed them to be seduced. In the
coming years, he would attempt to remedy this supposed gap between
the worlds of Europeans and of indigenous people, in brutal fashion.
Areche then detailed how Tupac Amaru had usurped power, de-
clared himself Inca, issued orders in the king’s name, interfered in tax
collection, claimed falsely to protect the Church, imposed the death
penalty, and deceived his followers with the illusion that they would
not die because he could resurrect them. The visitador highlighted Tu-
pac Amaru’s commission of a portrait of himself in Inca regalia with
Sangarará as the backdrop. He bitterly noted:
His pretension of royal descent . . . has made such an impression on the
Indians that they believe him, and as simpletons [en medio de su rudeza]
they wrote and talked to him with the utmost submission and respect,
On Friday May 18, executioners led Tupac Amaru and the other pris-
oners out of their cells adjoining the Plaza Mayor, guarded by heavily
armed members of the mulatto and Huamanga militias. One observer
noted that the large crowd in the plaza remained quiet and included no
Indians, “at least in their typical dress; if there were any they were dis-
guised in capes and ponchos.” 49 Perhaps Indians found the ceremony
too excruciating to watch or worried that the crowd could become vio-
lent and attack them. Workers had erected gallows, at this point guarded
by armed mulattoes. Dressed in canvas sacks used to bring yerba mate
from Paraguay, their hands and feet tied tight, the prisoners were dragged
behind horses, their skin scraping on the cobblestone streets. A town
crier declared, “This is the justice that in the name of the King, our
Lord, don José Antonio de Areche imposes. . . . He who does it, pays for
it [quien tal hace; que tal pague).” Diego Verdejo, Antonio Oblitas (the
black servant who had participated in the hanging of Arriaga and pos-
sibly drew a portrait of Tupac Amaru), Micaela’s brother Antonio Bas-
tidas, and Antonio Castelo were the fi rst victims. They were hanged,
their bodies dumped below the gallows. Francisco Tupac Amaru (José
Gabriel’s uncle) and Hipólito (Tupac Amaru and Micaela Bastidas’s el-
der son) had their tongues severed before they were hanged. Soldiers
forced Micaela and José Gabriel to watch. Tomasa Tito Condemayta, at
one point called Tupac Amaru’s “favorite,” was taken to a low chair in
front of the gallows.50 The executioner attached an iron band to her
neck, a garrote, and tightened it with a crank until she asphyxiated in
excruciating fashion. The metal garrote was a novelty in Cuzco: “it was
made for the occasion and we had never seen one here.”51 She was then
hanged, to confi rm her death.
Micaela was then led to the gallows. Executioners slashed her
tongue— some claim that she would not open her mouth and only after
her death was it cut. They then strapped her into the garrote. According
to one account, her neck was too thin for the garrote to work so the
executioners instead strangled her with a rope and kicked her until her
death. While historians disagree about the execution technique, every-
one agrees that it was agony.52
José Gabriel was forced to watch. Executioners then led him to the
gallows and cut his tongue. They tied his limbs to four horses in order
for him to be quartered, “a spectacle never seen before in this city.”53
The horses pushed toward the plaza’s four corners but Tupac Amaru’s
arms and legs did not separate from his torso. Frustrated, Areche or-
dered him beheaded. His youngest son, Fernando, screamed as his wit-
nessed his father’s agony. In the words of the English geographer and
traveler Clements Markham, who visited Peru numerous times in the
mid-nineteenth century, Fernando “uttered a heart rending shriek, the
knell of which continued to ring in the ears of those who heard it to their
dying day. It was the death knell of Spanish rule in South America.”54
Even the most hardened royalist must have shuddered at this scene.
The boy was made to pass by the gallows and gaze at the bloody, severed
cadaver. His age saved him from the death sentence—he was ten. One
witness described a sudden gust of wind and a downpour that made
people take cover when Tupac Amaru expired. The observer continued,
“this is why Indians say that heaven and the elements felt the death of
the Inca whom the inhuman and impious Spaniards were killing with
such cruelty.”55
The executioners detached the heads and limbs from all of the dead.
They burned José Gabriel and Micaela’s torsos in a bonfi re on the Pic-
chu hill and dumped the ashes into the Huatanay River. Areche had
precise plans how to distribute the body parts, using them as a grisly
warning about the danger of sedition. Tungasuca received an arm from
Tupac Amaru and one from Micaela as well as Hipólito Tupac Amaru’s
head; Tinta, Tupac Amaru’s head; Pampamarca an arm from Antonio
Bastidas; Surimana, an arm from Castelo, whose other arm was sent to
Pampamarca.56
R OYA L ISTS CEL EBR AT EDthe gruesome death of the rebellion’s lead-
ers. Many people in the city of Cuzco believed that the bloody ex-
ecutions meant the end of the uprising. They realized that some of Tu-
pac Amaru’s family had escaped, but remained confident that they
would be captured or simply slip away into the jungle and abandon the
struggle. This would not be the case. And troubling news also arrived
from the far south, the Lake Titicaca area and the Collao. There, a series
of uprisings had upended Spanish rule. Indigenous rebels threatened
much of Charcas (part of present-day Bolivia), and the violence began
to spread into Peru through the Titicaca area. While many in Lima and
Cuzco rejoiced at the death of the rebel leaders, informed royalists
knew that the Upper Peruvian uprisings could extend into Peru. In May
1781, peace was not at hand.
Royalists worried that the rebellion could paralyze Charcas, cutting
off Peru from the La Plata Viceroyalty, including the Potosí silver mines,
and the Pacific from the Atlantic Ocean. Or worse, the rebels in the
Collao could unite with the followers of Tupac Amaru, igniting a strug-
gle that would immediately stretch from Cuzco to Potosí, and poten-
tially much farther. But it was not only the extent of the uprisings but
also the nature of the aggression that was troubling. News reached
Cuzco about beheadings, punctured eyes, abused corpses, and other
“butchery” by bloodthirsty insurgents who sought to exterminate all
Europeans. Building on centuries of obnoxious interpretations of In-
dian “depravity,” these reports perhaps exaggerated. Nonetheless, the
rebels in Upper Peru and the area around Lake Titicaca showed little of
the restraint that José Gabriel and Micaela had managed to impose on
The Kataristas
From late 1780 until well into 1782, the Tupac Amaru and Katarista
revolutionaries made intermittent efforts to unite, an alliance that royal-
ists sought to prevent at all costs. The efforts to create a Tupac Amaru–
Katarista coalition loom large in most accounts of the Tupac Amaru up-
rising, including this one.1 While the uprising in Peru can be spoken of
in the singular, the Tupac Amaru Rebellion, Charcas was the site of
several related but not unified rebellions. In the Chayanta area of north-
ern Potosí, tensions between Indians and authorities escalated in the late
1770s. Indians increasingly questioned their kurakas, corregidors, and
priests, underlining their corruption and declining legitimacy in local
society. In 1778, Tomás Katari, a humble Aymara from the Chayanta
area, argued these points in the name of the Macha village in the Buenos
Aires high court. Just like José Gabriel after his bitter experience in
Lima, Katari returned home disillusioned with the colonial legal system.
The nonviolent struggle stalemated and what had first been a negotiation
and then a court battle became an increasingly violent revolt in 1780,
just when events near Cuzco were boiling over into a mass uprising.2
On his return from Buenos Aires, Katari was imprisoned, freed by
angry villagers, and imprisoned again. On August 26, 1780, Indians
from throughout the region stormed the town of Pocoata and seized
the corregidor, Joaquín Alós, whom they exchanged for Katari. Late 1780
saw a unique period of indigenous self-rule in Chayanta as Katari and
his followers reinvented relations between indigenous communities
and the colonial state. It did not last. Against the wishes of Katari, vio-
lence broke out. In the community of Moscari, Indians killed their
kuraka and exhibited his head in the outskirts of the city of La Plata. In
mid-December, a militia chief, Juan Antonio Acuña, arrested Katari.
Indians attacked the convoy and Acuña quickly executed Katari. The
attackers killed Acuña and his entourage, leaving their bodies unbur-
ied and piercing Acuña’s eyes.3
N
Asillo
Lake B O L I V I A
Sorata
Puno Titicaca
Chucuito Achacachi
La Paz Chulumani
PE RU
Sica Sica
Cochabamba Santa Cruz
Oruro Chayanta
Lake
Poopó
PACIFIC La Plata
OCEAN Potosí
modern borders
CH IL E 0 100 miles
0 100 km
Tupiza Tarija
Katarista Violence
Indians were not the only insurgents in Charcas. In the city of Oruro,
affluent creoles banded together with the lower classes and the indige-
nous peasantry to contest the power of Spaniards. While the creoles
owned nearby mines, the Europeans held power as merchants and fi-
nanciers. The Oruro uprising resembled the hierarchical, multiclass soci-
ology of the Tupac Amaru rebellion. In February 1781, the rebels con-
trolled the city and surrounding countryside and frequently mentioned
Tupac Amaru. In the words of one historian, “this unprecedented inter-
racial alliance was built upon mutual expectations of Túpac Amaru’s
approaching government. Creoles and plebeians, as well as Indians,
knew that the Inka had risen up and gone to war in Cuzco. Rumor had it
that he was nearing La Paz and before long would arrive in Oruro.”5
Frightened royalists, of course, also had the Tinta rebels on their minds.
One document from the period nervously mentioned “the fatalities that
occurred in the province of Chayanta and Tinta with an edict issued by
the insurrectionary Tupac Amaru in which he ordered all the corregidores
and chapetones [killed] because his intention was to leave not one re-
maining in this nation.”6 In February 1781, however, tensions between
the more radical Indians and urban plebs on one side and the creoles on
the other tore apart the Oruro coalition. Colonial forces brutally re-
pressed the rebels, including the “class traitor” creoles.7
The rebellion was not over. Beginning in February 1781, Julián Apaza,
an Indian from the community of Sicasica who assumed the name Tu-
pac Katari in honor of both Tupac Amaru and the Katari brothers, led
an uprising of Aymara communities around the city of La Paz. He was
such an obscure figure that the Spanish initially believed Tupac Amaru
was behind the violence.8 Once the Spanish understood that Apaza—
Tupac Katari— led the uprising, they ridiculed him for his social back-
ground. One document deemed him “an Indian of very low condition,
who had labored in the lowest occupations, being one of the poorest of
people during his life. He was of middling stature, with an ugly face,
somewhat deformed in his legs and hands.”9 He spoke Spanish poorly (a
feature that royalists derided but the Indian masses empathized with),
while childhood polio had made one leg shorter than the other and de-
formed his hands. Several accounts refer to his drinking habit. Whether
this was true or fabricated as part of the Spanish propaganda attack is
unverifiable. Royalists cast Apaza as a misfit from the dregs of society
and, once his movement gained force, as a murderous barbarian.10
but did not plan simultaneous actions. And tensions spread, impeding
a coalition. For example, Diego Cristóbal rebuked Katari for assuming
the title of “Viceroy” and “Joseph King.” José Gabriel’s cousin believed
that the Cuzco rebels necessarily had to lead any coalition. Some sources
hint that Diego Cristóbal shared the Spaniards’ derision for Tupac Ka-
tari’s social background. Katari resented this meddling and did not al-
ways receive the Tupac Amaru emissaries in La Paz.14 These tensions
and disagreements about who should lead would continue. Yet the vio-
lence around Titicaca in the fi rst half of 1781 highlighted rebel strength
in the region and the new, dreadful forms of brutality.
Titicaca
In the first months of 1781, Tupac Amaru rebels complained that Indians
in the uprising’s core area south of Cuzco had begun to resist their de-
mands for supplies and soldiers and even expressed doubts about Tupac
Amaru himself. The failed siege of Cuzco had apparently shaken the
resolve of some rebel followers and demystified Tupac Amaru. Royalists
impeded attacks, and most importantly, captured the rebel leaders in
April. Yet the situation was very different farther to the south, the area
around Lake Titicaca extending into Upper Peru. There, insurgents had
royalists on the run and violence escalated. According to corregidor
Joaquín Orellana, the leader of Spanish forces, Indians ransacked
towns, killing all men, women, and children they considered “Euro-
pean.” The Katarista and Amaru rebellions began to overlap. Violence
escalated.
Quechua and Aymara Indians greatly outnumbered Spaniards in
this region, even more so when many Europeans, creoles, and mestizos
fled in late 1780. The Spanish could only count on local militias and
small battalions led by beleaguered corregidors, the defense that had
done so poorly against Tupac Amaru in late 1780. These units fared
even worse in 1781. Those fleeing Collao brought stories to Cuzco about
Indian rebels beheading people, drowning children, mutilating bodies,
and drinking the blood of their victims. In addition to such lurid tales,
Orellana passed along accounts of rebels chasing desperate Spaniards
on horseback for miles and miles, people plunging into frigid Lake Titi-
caca to escape the rebels, and groups of frantic Europeans and mestizos
fleeing toward Arequipa.
the “southern campaigns” even more difficult. They also reinforced ef-
forts to cast the rebel as heathen apostates or barbarians who deserved
excommunication and severe punishment. In this sense, these stories
stymied efforts by José Gabriel and Micaela to maintain order, to pres-
ent their troops as disciplined, multiethnic soldiers fighting for the
common good in a fashion permitted within Spanish political practice.
Tupac Amaru could rightly contend that these were not his true follow-
ers. Yet if he sought to control the area, which he did, he needed their
support. Tupac Amaru and Micaela Bastidas could benefit from these
rebels’ increasing power but would also lose support because of the re-
vulsion toward their extreme violence.
The brutal fighting around Lake Titicaca resembled that of Upper
Peru much more than Cuzco. The rebels sought to kill kurakas, whereas
Tupac Amaru had understood them as potential allies. The insurgents
used their numbers and courage— several writers noted how they did
not seem to care about dying— to seize towns, kill, ransack. The wide-
spread belief that those martyred in battle would be resurrected embold-
ened the insurgents. On the other side, the outnumbered Europeans
(Spaniards and creoles) could only survive if they remained united,
recruited Indian followers, and used their fi repower to ward off the
large number of rebels. Fusils and cannons, after all, were still effective
in repelling thousands. Nonetheless, European weapons were not al-
ways enough. In towns such as Juli, Chucuito, and others, royalists
begged for aid from La Paz, Cuzco, Arequipa, and Lima, and described
the region as virtually defeated by April 1781. Even if the sanguinary
tales of drinking blood and eating hearts are set aside as exaggerations
or propaganda, there was no doubt that the rebels were dominating an
increasingly vicious war in the Titicaca area.
late eighteenth century, rivaling Cuzco for primacy among Andean cit-
ies. Its unique topography makes it ideal for sieges. Built into a bowl,
actually a wide canyon that holds the Choqueyapu River, the city center
is surrounded by steep hills that lead to plateaus that surpass thirteen
thousand feet above sea level. Like many Spanish-American cities, it
was surrounded by a large wall, with much of the indigenous popula-
tion living on the outside or extramuros. In early 1780, royalist command-
ers had fortified the wall and added trenches. Today, the appropriately
named town of “El Alto” or “the Tall One,” which stretches across the
western plain above the city and constituted the traditional point of
entry for people and goods, serves as the base for frequent strikes that
paralyze the city below. In fact, the Neo-Kataristas who have led im-
portant and creative social movements in the last two decades take
their name and heroes from the 1780s.30
On March 13, 1781, tens of thousands of Indian rebels led by Tupac
Katari surrounded the city, impeding supplies from entering or people
from leaving, unless they joined the insurgents. After a few weeks,
shortages struck even in this well-stocked city. Katari sent representa-
tives to negotiate, requesting that the towns’ people hand over their
weapons as well as corregidors, Europeans, and some authorities. The
city leaders refused. The indigenous population that lived outside the
city’s walls largely joined the rebels. While the siege literally divided the
population into royalists on the inside and rebels on the outside, relations
between the two sides fluctuated between accommodation and implaca-
ble hatred. One diary hints that rebels allowed people they knew to get
food, while sentries even greeted acquaintances over the wall. Other
entries, however, refer to the rebels as bloodthirsty Indians. And rela-
tions worsened as time passed and hunger loomed.31
The two sides battled in April and May but to a bloody stalemate.
Royalists could not break the rebel lines, even when they charged and
killed hundreds with their artillery, while the insurgents could not
take the city center. Rebels entered periodically, destroying parts of the
city’s wall and burning sections of the city. They crept to the city’s walls
in the dark of night to take prisoners or attack sentinels. Royalists used
their fi repower to ward off these nocturnal attacks. Tupac Katari him-
self ventured to the city’s walls several times.
Within a few weeks, the confrontation turned into a siege—the reb-
els focused on blocking supplies. Hunger spread and by the second half of
April, the city’s residents had turned to cats, dogs, mules, and even
leather for their meals. Hundreds died of hunger or from the illnesses
that spread among the famished population.32 As occurred in Tupac
Amaru’s attack of Cuzco, a royalist soldier pretended to aid the rebels
with their artillery and actually sabotaged it.33 In May the rebels allowed
an Indian market to function just outside of the city’s wall. Some citizens
braved the possibility of enemy fire and the highly inflated prices to buy
desperately needed food. The rebels grabbed a few prisoners but no royal-
ist commander took the bait.34 Desperation, hunger and its soul mate
disease took hold throughout the city. By mid-June many residents
wanted to capitulate, believing that their fate in the hands of the rebels
could not be worse than starving to death. Cadavers littered the streets.
On July 1, however, after 109 days, Commander Ignacio Flores arrived
with well-armed troops who broke the siege. Rebels did not confront
them, but instead moved to a higher peak. Delighted by the arrival of
Flores, many in the city worried that the Indian rebels would strike
again. They were correct. This was only the first siege of La Paz.
By the middle of 1781, royalists in Cusco and Lima looked to the
south with anguish. The Tupac Amaru rebellion had not been defeated,
and news arrived from the Titicaca area and Charcas about wave after
wave of insurgency and increasing violence. The succession of distur-
bances and uprisings dating from 1778 threatened to isolate Peru from
Potosí and the rest of the Rio de la Plata viceroyalty or, far worse, to
burst into Peru and unite with the leaders of the second phase of the
Tupac Amaru uprising. Del Valle and others understood that the region
between Lake Titicaca and the city of La Paz was largely in rebel hands.
The terrain proved just as inhospitable for Spanish forces as the Peru-
vian side of the lake had, while insurgents used violence with greater
frequency and kurakas had less sway over their communities. Peruvian
authorities and much of the population fretted about a bloody caste war
that could stretch from Buenos Aires to Lima. These fears would only
worsen in the course of 1781. Royalist commanders understood that
they had to confront the Titicaca-area rebels, those led by Diego Cris-
tóbal Tupac Amaru and those linked to the Kataristas. They dreaded
this operation. They were right to do so.
Southern Campaigns
Pacification?
along on trips across the Andes and into towns and small communities
when José Gabriel fulfi lled his duties as kuraka. As members of the
Tupac Amaru-Bastidas clan, they counted on prestige among Indians,
particularly in the rebel hotbed along the Vilcanota basin and toward
Lake Titicaca. Diego Cristóbal wrote Spanish well, although not as styl-
ishly as his cousin.3 They were young, but well prepared. There were
also no other candidates. No commander emerged alongside José Ga-
briel and Micaela and most of their inner circle consisted of family
members. After the leaders’ capture, the rebels who did not find them-
selves in chains agreed that these young men had to take over. And as
kin to the soon-to-be martyred rebel leaders, Diego Cristóbal, Mariano,
and Andrés understood that they had no alternative— the Spanish
wanted to capture and kill them.
Diego Cristóbal, Mariano, and Andrés moved quickly, initially hop-
ing to free the rebel leaders, their family. A week after the devastating
capture of Tupac Amaru, Micaela Bastidas, and their inner circle on
April 6, Diego Cristóbal and Andrés led an unsuccessful attack on the
town of Layo. Days later, however, on April 18, they routed a royalist
division in the town of Langui, where Tupac Amaru had been caught.
In a preview of things to come, del Valle reported that Diego Cristóbal
called for the assassination of all “whites and mestizos of any age or
gender and the punishment of all the priests.” Del Valle contrasted this
with José Gabriel, “who had treated them with respect and consider-
ation due to their elevated character.” 4 The Spanish commander also
complained that thousands of royalist troops deserted, “because of their
extreme love for their families and the desire to return to their houses
to gather the harvest.”5 Many royalist soldiers assumed that with the
capture of the leaders, their mission was completed. Both bloodshed
and desertions would continue. April meant autumn in the southern
hemisphere, time for the harvest and to prepare for the cold highland
winter. Yet the war did not wane but instead intensified.
Despite the desertion of many royalist soldiers, rebels concluded that
liberating the heavily guarded captives would be impossible and instead
moved their operations south. In his southern excursion in late 1780,
José Gabriel Tupac Amaru had found great support in the area north of
Lake Titicaca while the Tupac Katari movement had much of the area
stretching from the lake to La Paz and beyond in arms. Diego Cristóbal,
Mariano, and Miguel Bastidas initially set up rebel headquarters in the
even their descendants, they saw the Aymara people as backward, de-
void of the royal tradition of Cuzco and its “Inca Kings.”7 In practical
terms, the coastal troops suffered mightily as the altitudes soared well
beyond two miles above sea level. Even if they had become somewhat
accustomed and overcome the initial misery of soroche, their hearts
would pound, heads ache, and noses sometimes bleed during every hike
over a mountain pass. Some soldiers coughed up blood—they had pul-
monary edemas. Furthermore, the news arriving from Charcas about
multiple uprisings and sieged cities fed their fear. European command-
ers dreaded the expedition to the Collao.
After turning over his invaluable prisoners in April, the royalist com-
mander del Valle headed south, to chase the new rebel leaders. Diego
Cristóbal and company had moved the campaign south, near Lake Titi-
caca where José Gabriel had been so well received in November 1780. To
the great frustration of the Spanish, the rebels would remain mobile. Del
Valle knew that contrary to royalist gloating and overconfidence, the
expedition would be difficult; his unease proved prophetic. The cam-
paign started poorly and did not improve. After losing thousands of men
in Langui—far more to desertion than battle wounds— del Valle re-
turned to Sicuani to recover and recruit and from there moved toward
Lake Titicaca. He left Pumacahua’s forces behind to pursue any flare-ups
in the former core area.8
En route to the Collao, del Valle came across Indians who shouted
from the hills that they were not “cowards like the people of Tinta” and
promised to fight until the end.9 Del Valle managed to take some pris-
oners who told him that the town of Santa Rosa was a rebel hotbed. He
entered the town on April 15, 1781 and ordered every adult male to
congregate in the plaza. To the horror of those assembled, his deputies
executed every fi fth man, the quintado, twenty in all. While del Valle
contended that this bloodshed in Santa Rosa had successfully intimi-
dated potential rebel supporters, critics claimed that it had victimized
innocent people and discouraged Indians from surrendering.10 The
priest of Sicuani wrote that del Valle had taken the lives of a seventy-
year-old man and an Indian who had fought for the royalists. Indians
“took to the hills,” harassing del Valle’s rearguard.11
the towns I passed through were burnt to the ground, the people hav-
ing fled to the snow-covered peaks with their livestock, horses, grains,
and possessions.” He admitted that he had to “become a good thief” to
feed his troops. Even then, they survived on boiled or roasted lamb and
mutton, with salt the only seasoning. This diet made his troops so ill
with bloody dysentery, they could barely walk.21
Many Indians that del Valle and other royalist commanders “re-
cruited” fled back to their towns. Those he had brought from Lima did
not have this option— it was too far. These troops, mostly blacks and
mulattoes, many dragooned off the streets and from bars, suffered from
the altitude, the relentless chill, the terrible and insufficient food, and
exhaustion. Those who were professional soldiers could not offer their
families in Lima anything. These soldiers, who remained anonymous
even in death, faced a relentless guerrilla war waged by highly moti-
vated, mobile fighters. They were miserable.
Royalists had run out of “alcohol or balms” and had to rely on urine
to treat wounds. They also did not have anyone to fi x their weapons.
Del Valle’s troops “couldn’t stand it when they were so close to their
homes, family, and fields; others couldn’t bear the lack of uniforms or
clothes, the cold, the hunger, and the other chores of warfare, to the
point that they hated military ser vice so much that they would prefer
to desert and face the risk of being killed by the enemy.”22 Finding fresh
recruits was almost impossible. Indians and mestizos who lived near
Cuzco “hid in the sheerest, most hidden hills” to avoid military duty.23
Del Valle and his troops were despondent as they moved toward Lake
Titicaca, with autumn rapidly becoming winter.
Moreover, in late April 1781 Indians in the upper provinces near
José Gabriel and Micaela’s core area rose up in support of Diego Cris-
tóbal.24 Reports also arrived of subversive activity in Tucumán in north-
west Rio de la Plata (part of present-day Argentina), in Chile, and in New
Granada (present-day Colombia). In Tucumán, Jujuy, and Salta, Rio de
la Plata’s Andean north, as well as northern Chile, rebels struck Spanish
forces, invoking the Katari movement.25 In New Granada, creoles and
others took to the streets to criticize tax increases and demand greater
political autonomy. They organized in a común or common, and thus
took the name comuneros. The events in Cuzco had kindled their rebel-
lion.26 Authorities in distant Mexico, in Izúcar de Matamoros in Puebla,
“evoked fear of another Tupac Amaru uprising.”27
ingly seemed like an unwinnable total war. Puno’s mestizo and white
population called for an evacuation several times, while Orellana en-
deavored to make it the royalist refuge in the Titicaca area.
Events in Chucuito, the province along the southwest side of Lake
Titicaca and today part of Peru’s border with Bolivia, alarmed royalists
and others in the area. For contemporaries and historians, these at-
tacks led by Tupac Katari commanders Isidro Mamani and Pascual
Alarapita epitomized two chilling changes in the nature of the confl ict:
the overlapping of the Katari and Amaru forces and the mass killing of
civilians by the rebels. In mid-March the rebels took the town of Po-
mata. Days later, on March 25, over seven thousand rebels attacked the
town of Juli, killing, according to one estimate, four hundred Spaniards,
creoles, and mestizos. Commander Orellana found “the plaza and streets
flooded in blood, with cadavers strewn everywhere.” Indian rebels ran-
sacked houses and churches.29 The insurgents attacked Chucuito on
April 3, trapping its militia leader, Nicolás Mendiolaza. According to
several reports, they killed up to one thousand people, burning Men-
diolaza alive and beheading hundreds, and destroyed most houses and
churches. Chucuito was far bloodier than any other battle since Tupac
Amaru had begun the rebellion seven months earlier.30 Accounts men-
tioned rebels throwing children into frigid Lake Titicaca to drown,
chopping women’s heads off and piling them on the gallows, and, in
Juli, drinking the blood of dead women.
In March, Orellana rushed back to Puno, dodging several ambushes.
Royalist spirits tumbled when, en route to Puno, they entered the town
of Icho and found that rebels had beheaded indigenous women due to
their husbands’ support for the Spanish.31 Rebels surrounded Puno—
the Katari forces to the south and those of Diego Cristóbal to the
north— in late March and attacked on April 10. Orellana had prepared
the city well, building fortresses, digging trenches, and arranging can-
nons. He stationed militia units outside the city and had his gunners
prepared to shoot from the towers. Pascual Alarapita and Isidro Ma-
mani recruited for the rebels to the south and east of Lake Titicaca. In-
dians of the town of Acora, however, seized Mamani and handed him
over to the royalists.32 Nonetheless, rebels from Azángaro, Lampa, and
Carabaya— all virtually deserted towns— combined with those of Chu-
cuito to attack Puno. Orellana used his cannons, guns, and cavalry
well, and staved off these repeated attacks in April.
once he entered Puno. Orellana insisted that they attack the enemy in
their retreat toward Chucuito, to the south. Del Valle again declined.
Uncertain of what to do, and leery that the rebels would attack Puno
once again with even greater numbers, Orellana called for a meeting or
junta on the twenty-fi fth. Its participants believed that the fate of the
Spanish in South America depended on their meeting.37
Del Valle offered Orellana one hundred armed men as reinforce-
ments to defend Puno. The corregidor immediately rejected this as ri-
diculously insufficient—he had barely survived the previous sieges and
his supplies were dangerously low. Moreover, the rebels were getting
stronger, and locals’ resolve weaker. Orellana insisted that del Valle rec-
ognize Puno’s importance and make it his headquarters.38 Del Valle,
however, had little confidence that his troops could hold the city. The
freezing weather, gory battles, dwindling supplies—which meant scrimp-
ing on meals, uniforms, and pay—had intensified desertion among his
troops. He had left Cuzco with 15,000 soldiers yet four months later less
than 10 percent remained. On May 25, he wrote, “we are down to eight
hundred men, almost all from Lima. Accustomed to that city’s sweet
weather, they can no longer bear to suffer from the bitter frosts that get
worse every day, a discomfort made much worse by the fact that many
are barefoot and their clothes ragged; we are low on bread and they are
so used to this staple that this shortage bothers them greatly. In addi-
tion, our tents have gaping holes.”39 May is winter in the Collao, mean-
ing cold days and painfully frigid nights, particularly for soldiers in
tattered uniforms and tents, accustomed to milder weather. Tempera-
tures drop even more in June, July, and August.
The May 25 junta included del Valle’s key commanders: Gabriel de
Avilés, Joaquín Valcárcel, Matías Baulen, the Marques de Rocafuerte,
Gaspar de Ugarte, José Acuña, Antonio Vivas, and José de Lagos. With
the situation in Puno ominous and news arriving from every direction
about the latest skirmishes, the royalist leaders argued energetically
and bitterly. The participants felt that the fate of the Peruvian viceroy-
alty relied on their decision; they also knew that outnumbered by in-
creasingly belligerent Indians who by and large supported the rebels,
their lives were at risk. Del Valle described the situation and his deci-
sion not to make a last stand in Puno in bleak terms: his troops were
unhappy, tired, hungry, and undisciplined; the provinces in La Paz and
Buenos Aires were up in arms; he did not count on enough troops to
even make it to La Paz; they faced not only mass desertions but even
the disgrace of defeat; that while the siege of La Paz had ended (which
was not true), Cuzco confronted a similar threat and, as part of Peru,
deserved this group’s par tic u lar attention. He cast the decision as one
between retreating to Cuzco or Arequipa in order to obtain supplies
and troops and to rest in the middle of winter or pushing on to La Paz,
an option he rued. According to Lagos, who was incensed by the pro-
ceedings, Avilés voted for Arequipa or Cuzco, Valcárcel insisted on
Arequipa, and Vivas, Gaspar de Ugarte, Baulen, and Rocafuerte preferred
Cuzco. Baulen presented an expedition to Upper Peru as suicidal: the
rebel provinces en route to La Paz contained three hundred thousand
men who had the canyons and peaks covered. He contended that “not
even a thousand fusils could push through this force.”40 Ugarte and Vivas
seconded him.
Lagos rebutted. He recognized that the rebels had slaughtered whites,
“la gente blanca,” and killed seven hundred people in Chucuito, but ar-
gued that with reinforcements, the royalists would have the upper
hand. When they had counted on two thousand men, six hundred fu-
sils, four cannons, and sixty thousand cartridges and the Indians had
only sticks and slingshots, “they had not feared a thing. WHY NOW?” 41
He maintained that retreating would be a disgrace and that they could
hold Puno, as they had done so far, and then move victoriously toward
La Paz. Lagos argued that they needed to terminate the “contagion”
and that the loss of the region, the “throat” that connected Lima with
Charcas, would be catastrophic, crippling tax revenues, mining, and
trade. He reminded them that Spain was virtually at war with England
and that reinforcements were on their way from Lima and Buenos Ai-
res. Lagos criticized the other members’ “panicky fears” and invoked
the “fi rst conquistadors” as models. He contended that if they fled to
Cuzco, retaking the Puno area “would cost the king years, millions of
pesos, and much bloodshed.” 42 Only Acuña, the corregidor of Cota-
bambas, backed Lagos. The junta voted to return to Cuzco, granting
Puno’s inhabitants three days to prepare.
Orellana described the “great pain” he felt from the order to evacu-
ate and the “confusion, disorder, and sobbing” that the news prompted
among Puno’s residents. He destroyed his cannons so that the rebels
couldn’t seize them.43 On May 27, even sooner than del Valle had
stated, approximately 8,000 men, women, and children began the long,
color makes them look like one, as seen in the cold-blooded cruelty with
which they have killed people in the Collao, [targeting] all people with
any trace of whiteness in their face, without exceptions for sex or age.”50
The ill and dejected soldiers and the downtrodden Puno residents
demonstrated to everyone who saw them on their long trek that del
Valle’s expedition south and the subsequent evacuation of the Lake
Titicaca area had been a stinging defeat for the Spanish. The situation
had changed dramatically in a few months. The battalions that had
captured Tupac Amaru and Micaela Bastidas impressed everyone with
their manpower, precision, and fi repower. Less than two months after
the leaders’ execution, however, the remnants of these troops returned to
Cuzco hungry and poorly dressed, with no victory to speak of since the
April capture. Cuzco residents heard from the Puno refugees about the
royalist officers’ indecision and bickering and, in contrast, the rebels’
strength, courage, and confidence. Stories of sieges, massacres, and es-
capes across the high plains around Lake Titicaca alarmed locals. The
two most prominent Spanish authorities in Cuzco, José del Valle and
Antonio Areche, quarreled and exchanged blame, deepening a division
among the Spanish that would shape events in the near future.
Areche criticized del Valle for not taking control of the areas that he
entered, but recognized that rebel supporters fled quickly, taking to the
impenetrable hills. However, Areche rejected del Valle’s excuse that
he had lacked supplies: “If his troops temporarily did not have food,
shoes, and other goods, it is the commanding officer’s fault for not re-
questing them and planning adequately.”51 Areche called for starving
the rebels out, by preventing them from harvesting potatoes, corn, and
coca, impeding their incursions into towns in search of food, and iso-
lating them from their supply of salt. Beyond this vague plan, he
stressed del Valle’s incompetence, calling for a new military head.52
Del Valle repeatedly justified his actions by stressing the miseries he
faced and the impossibility of victory with hungry, cold, and undisci-
plined troops, in harsh terrain. In a long letter to Viceroy Jáuregui from
July 12 that sought to rebut Areche’s criticism, del Valle described the
bitter cold and snow that killed many of their mules and limited pas-
tureland for the surviving pack animals. His beasts of burden as well as
his troops had been hungry. He also lamented the lack of kindling and
fi rewood in an area well above what is usually considered the tree line.
Del Valle complained about the growing number of desertions among
his soldiers, bemoaning the loss of weapons when they fled, but recog-
nized that it was nearly impossible to retain troops in harsh conditions
when they did not have enough food or adequate uniforms and tents. Del
Valle also emphasized the rebels’ use of hills as points of refuge, recog-
nizing, in effect, what would subsequently be known as guerrilla war-
fare (from the Spanish for “small war”): hit-and-run attacks in which
insurgents took advantage of their mobility and knowledge of the ter-
rain. Del Valle emphasized here and elsewhere how the rebels retreated
into hills, escaping from royalists. He noted bitterly that “there’s not a hill
that can cut off these Indians.”53
In another July letter to Viceroy Jáuregui, del Valle underlined the
rebels’ tenacity and hatred for the Spanish. He described how “Indians
of the upper peaks” [cerros] rejected his offer to pardon them if they gave
up their struggle: “they called us the rebelling thieves and said that we
should ask them for a pardon; they’ve become so haughty that they
think fear rather than desire to enforce the king’s order forces us to offer
peace.”54 This anticipated another tenet of what would be known as
guerrilla warfare: that insurgents had greater motivation or desire than
their repressors. It also expressed the rebels’ continual belief that they
rather than the royalists represented the king and the defense of justice
and order.
Areche and del Valle sniped at each other constantly for years, with
Areche continuing even after del Valle’s death on September 4, 1782. It
was personal—they disliked each other; each wanted to blame the other
for the Puno debacle and to claim the honor of seizing Tupac Amaru
and Micaela Bastidas. For example, in a letter to Gálvez, Areche com-
plained bitterly that del Valle had received credit for Tupac Amaru’s
capture “in Nuestra Gaceta” and “un capítulo de Cádiz.” Areche con-
tended that he had led the charge and Indian troops and had captured
the rebel inner circle, not del Valle, who was “too slow.”55 In mid-1781
Areche was lobbying to take over operations, claiming that he could
retake Puno with one thousand reinforcements from Arequipa, more
troops from the Callao division, and one thousand muskets. The vice-
roy thanked him for his input but told him that the army commander
(del Valle or his unnamed successor) would be in charge of any cam-
paign. Jáuregui also declined to send more troops from the coast, due
to the threat of attack by the British. Areche took this as a betrayal and
began to deride him in his frequent missives to Gálvez in Spain.56 He
refused to meet with the viceroy when he returned to Lima in August
1781 and made it his mission to take over the antiinsurgency cam-
paign, disparaging del Valle and the Viceroy at every possibility.
This confl ict remained extremely personal— the accusations become
harsher and harsher— but also reflected a deepening divergence over
what actions needed to be taken. Areche, despite his criticism of the
Santa Rosa executions and his occasional calls to understand the reb-
els, believed that del Valle had been too soft. He called for stricter poli-
cies that would isolate and even starve out the rebels and their support-
ers. Del Valle, Jáuregui, and other Cuzco leaders such as Bishop
Moscoso contended that these tactics would not work, that the rebels
controlled the area stretching from Cuzco to La Paz and could resist a
new royalist offensive. They sought some type of negotiation.
While this feud evolved from personal vitriol to programmatic dis-
agreement about military policy, events around Lake Titicaca became
even more disturbing. Not only had the same battalions that had cap-
tured Tupac Amaru and Micaela Bastidas failed to defend Puno let
alone capture Diego Cristóbal Tupac Amaru, but the rebels had become
more violent and fought on multiple fronts. Royalists faced two orga-
nized groups, those led by Diego Cristóbal and those from the La Paz
area led by Tupac Katari, as well as the fierce local uprisings not con-
trolled by the leadership. News about the siege of La Paz terrified city
dwellers throughout Peru. At the same time that del Valle, Areche, and
Jáuregui sent nasty memos about one another and sought to pull rank,
the rebellion threatened to extend well into the Rio de la Plata viceroy-
alty. Royalists had much more to fear than the loss of Puno.
opposed the rebels’ orders.” Another priest, don Josef Travitaru, had
tried to impede the circulation of insurgent orders and decrees “to stop
this cancer” and requested the corregidor’s aid. The corregidor (pre-
sumably Orellana) led a slaughter of fi fty or sixty rebel “captains,
judges, commanders, and colonels” in the town of Samán, near Azán-
garo. Both priests only survived by fleeing to Puno.59 The list described
priests and their aides who had been robbed, beaten, imprisoned,
dragged by horses, humiliated in numerous ways, stripped, whipped,
and threatened. Several watched as the rebels killed their relatives and
others had been taken prisoner to Tinta, presumably in the fi rst months
of the uprising. Del Valle listed three priests killed by rebels, all from
remote parishes: Juli, in La Paz bishopric, Ocongate in the upper prov-
inces, and Paucartambo, toward the jungle. Rebels dragged a priest’s
assistant from Lampa to the gallows, but del Valle could not confirm
whether he was hanged.
The commander closed his solemn report by describing how rebel
procedures had changed. When entering a town, they tied up the priest
and his aides, threatening to kill them. In contrast, in late 1780 Tupac
Amaru had customarily met with the local cleric, requesting his sup-
port and using the church steps for his speeches.60 At the onset of the
uprising, Bishop Moscoso had instructed his priests to stay behind in
their parishes to proselytize against the rebels, insisting that they would
be safe. By mid-1781, this was no longer the case.
As del Valle led the humiliating exodus of Puno residents to Cuzco,
Diego Cristóbal consolidated his base in Azángaro and sought to move
southeast and link with the Tupac Katari uprising. Andrés Tupac Amaru
had taken charge of the area east of Lake Titicaca. With Vilca Apaza he
oversaw the siege of Sorata, capital of Larecaja and part of the La Paz
bishopric (part of modern-day Bolivia), from May through August. Thou-
sands of rebels surrounded the town, which contained two thousand
refugees from Lampa, Carabaya, and other nearby towns and cities.61
Although organized into companies and possessing weapons, the popula-
tion ran low on food within weeks. After delegates met with rebels they
were allowed to purchase some products, but Father José Eustaquio Cara-
vedo lamented that the inhabitants relied on “the meat of mules, dogs,
cats, mice and other filthy animals.” He labeled the rebels “pirates.”62
Fearing that they would be slaughtered, the besieged residents of So-
rata refused to surrender. In early August, Andrés Tupac Amaru devised
a plan to flood the town into submission. Diverting three rivers, he built
a dam on the peaks above the town and opened it on August 5. The
flooding water broke the town’s barricades and neutralized its defenses.
Rebels, including Andrés and Mariano as well as Gregoria Apaza, the
sister of Tupac Katari, poured in. Accounts vary on the bloodshed. Those
sympathetic to the Spanish describe rapes and wanton slaughtering of
anyone of European descent or appearance. Others contend that rebels
killed Europeans but pardoned creoles and mestizos. Andrés Tupac
Amaru forced European women to chew coca, wear Indian clothing, go
barefoot, and call themselves Collas or Indians.63 From here Andrés took
his forces toward La Paz, the site of an even more horrific siege.
In La Paz, royalists managed to break the siege in July only to lose con-
trol a month later. The situation was horrific: people in the city were
starving and losing hope. Commander Ignacio Flores’s arrival on July 1,
1781 had dislodged the rebels, bringing respite to the tens of thousands
trapped within the city walls. Residents cheered their liberators and
desperately searched for food and medical assistance. They could not
venture too far from the city center, however. Rebels moved to the sur-
rounding peaks and bluffs and continued their hit-and-run tactics. Sur-
vivors were able to eat, to bury or at least dump the dead outside the city
walls, and to restore a bit of order in their residences. But calm did not
return.
Thousands of Flores’s troops deserted in July. Worried about his
vulnerability, Flores fled La Paz on August 4, leaving a company of vet-
eran soldiers behind. On August 7, rebels attacked but could not break
royalist lines. The second siege began. One witness, don Juan Bautista
de Zavala, estimated more than fourteen thousand dead in the two
sieges: most from hunger, some from bullets, and “still others [who]
were beheaded by the rebels in the fields that many attempted to cross,
even though they knew that the rebels would not show mercy if they
looked Spanish in any way.”2 He observed ruefully that “Every Indian
is now a rebel, all die happily for their Inca King, all have forgotten God
and his holy law.”3 Toward the end of August, Andrés Tupac Amaru,
Miguel Bastidas, and other Tupac Amaru commanders arrived in La
Paz. The much-feared alliance of the (new) leaders of the Tupac Amaru
and Tupac Katari movements seemed imminent.
Tensions emerged, however, between the two camps. Andrés and
the others set up their base in El Alto while the Tupac Katari forces
concentrated in Pampajasi, on the opposite side of the city.4 Andrés and
his collaborators were well-educated Spanish and Quechua speakers
from Cuzco, 325 miles away. They fought in the name of the Incas, a
Cuzco-based civilization and empire that had subjugated the Aymara
people. In contrast, Tupac Katari was a humble Aymara speaker who
saw La Paz as his base and resented the outsiders. His qualms increased
when Andrés became romantically involved with Gregoria Apaza, Tu-
pac Katari’s sister. Moreover, one of Katari’s commanders, Tomás Inga
Lipe, passed over to Andrés Tupac Amaru’s side, prompting infighting.
In late August, the Tupac Amaru forces temporarily detained Katari.
Andrés instructed Tupac Katari to call himself governor rather than
viceroy, seeking to limit his power.5 Nonetheless, the two rebel sides
managed to organize an effective second siege of La Paz.
In early October, Andrés Tupac Amaru tried to repeat his triumph
in Sorata and dammed the Choquepayu River in order to flood La Paz.
He believed that the raging waters would crush the royalist defenses
and break the defenders’ spirit. This time, his project failed because a
retaining wall broke before the water could be diverted into the bowl of
the city. The rebels succeeded, however, in blocking supplies from en-
tering La Paz, so that hunger and illness spread once again throughout
the city. Survivors told stories of parents watching their children and
spouses watching their spouses crumple over and die of malnutrition
“without the strength to even moan.” Alongside the dying and the
dead, “walking skeletons” scavenged for food. People ate dogs that had
survived feeding on the cadavers; some accounts hint at cannibalism.6
The sounds of the besieged city also tormented those trapped inside, as
the screams of rebels threatening to attack the town mixed with the
pathetic groans of children and adults begging for food. The stench from
rotting bodies and feces as well as the pain from hunger and stomach
ailments from the meals of boiled weeds made life even more misera-
ble.7 In early October, rebel representatives met with the city’s leaders,
demanding surrender. Fearful of mass slaughter such as that in Sorata,
La Paz’s patriarchs refused. On October 15, however, desperate with
hunger, the city leaders decided to abandon the city if military rein-
forcements did not arrive in the next few days.8 At this point, followers
of Tupac Katari controlled much of the region from La Paz to Lake Titi-
caca and, to the south, toward Potosí.
On October 17, Commander José de Reseguín reached La Paz with
ten thousand troops (virtually every soldier who could be dragooned
around Buenos Aires) and food, breaking the siege once again. For many
it was too late. Thousands lay dead within the city walls. Andrés Tupac
Amaru handed over operations to Miguel Bastidas and fled to Azángaro.
He presumably preferred the hit-and-run tactics that had worked so well
in recent months to a single confrontation with a well-armed royalist
contingent. Tupac Katari resisted initially, taking to the hills above the
city, but days later sought to join forces again with Miguel Bastidas. They
failed to thwart Reseguin’s offensive and the great alliance and rebel
control of La Paz shattered.9
Royalists took the offensive in Upper Peru, retaking the city of
Oruro and attacking rebels in Cochabamba and other important towns.
The insurgency collapsed where it began, Chayanta.10 Royalist com-
manders offered an amnesty to rebel supporters who gave up the strug-
gle. Tupac Katari’s followers began to abandon him and a prominent
Amarista commander, Miguel Sonco, declared his support for the Crown
and recruited in Chucuito, a place that had been a rebel hotbed. Tupac
Katari rejected the amnesty and the option of turning himself in to the
royalists, but learned with horror that thousands of his followers had
accepted it in early November.
Royalists claimed that Katari and Miguel Bastidas, who remained in
the area, had broken the agreement (the amnesty offer that Katari never
signed or accepted). Betrayed by one of his own followers, Tupac Katari
was captured on November 9. He was drawn and quartered in La Paz
on November 15, a method that recalls the brutality against José Ga-
briel. Triumphant royalists displayed his head and body parts through-
out the Titicaca area.11 Royalist commanders executed dozens of his
followers, including, a year later, his wife, Bartolina Sisa, and sister,
Gregoria Apaza.12 Miguel Bastidas (Micaela’s much younger brother)
presented himself for a pardon and after years of trials was sent to
prison in Spain.13 Violence and insubordination would continue in
Charcas for months and years, even though the royalists had executed
the leaders and defeated or disarmed the core rebel groups.
Shipwrecked Heart
In his fi nal weeks, Tupac Katari watched some of his most trusted allies
and thousands of his followers turn over their arms. Weeks after being
on the verge of taking La Paz, his movement was on the run and in
disarray. Yet developments on the other side of Lake Titicaca, in Lower
Peru, must have been equally shocking and painful for him. At the
same time that Katari was desperately trying to preserve the rebel hold
on La Paz and rebuild the rebellion, the Tupac Amaru leaders were ne-
gotiating with the Spanish.
Del Valle had returned to Cuzco in July 1781 convinced that the
Spanish would soon lose the war. Indians massively supported the reb-
els, who took advantage of the mountainous terrain, using guerrilla
tactics against the miserable royalist soldiers. The increasing violence
against anyone considered a European caused panic and exodus. People
who could be labeled European because of their wealth, skin color, or
clothing fled the area. The Spanish strained to supply the troops; del
Valle’s soldiers had fought much of the campaign with ripped shoes and
tents and insufficient food— they were frostbitten and hungry. While
The rebel leader confirmed that he had received the amnesty offer. He
blamed the uprising on abusive authorities in the Americas who dis-
obeyed His Majesty Charles III, particularly “the thieving corregidors.”
Diego Cristóbal noted that in previous wars Spanish authorities had of-
fered peace but then broken their promise, making Andean people cyni-
cal and wary.23 Nonetheless, while blaming chapetones (a derogatory term
for Spaniards, infrequently used in the uprising) who bled the Andean
people “in the name of the king, Our Lord” for the violence, Diego Cris-
tóbal agreed to the amnesty.
The rebel leader admitted that he accepted to save his family and his
own life. However, he questioned del Valle’s role in José Gabriel Tupac
Amaru’s execution, arguing that his cousin should have been sent to
Lima or to Spain so the viceroy or the king “would have learned the truth
about the crimes of the evil Europeans.”24 He added, “I suppose that
you all, accomplices in the iniquities of the evil Europeans, did this to
hide the truth.” Diego Cristóbal claimed that “the fear of death did not
make him hesitate,” but lamented that the offer had not been made
earlier.25 Diego Cristóbal accepted the amnesty offer but defended what
he and his cousin had done. He never wavered in his belief that he and
his cousin upheld justice and the king’s authority.
Numerous reasons explain Diego Cristóbal’s stunning decision to ac-
cept. He had his doubts about the Amaru-Katarista alliance. Relations
between the two rebel camps had always been tense, and the failed siege
of La Paz ruptured the coalition. Moreover, Cuzco and his home region
of the Vilcanota concerned Diego Cristóbal much more than Charcas;
perhaps (this is speculation) he was simply not that interested in a trans-
Andean uprising. Spanish fears that the struggle that had already moved
from Potosí to Cuzco would extend until it stretched from the Atlantic
to the Pacific Oceans—from Buenos Aires to Lima—were perhaps un-
founded; the second wave of Amarista rebels might not have had such a
grandiose vision. Diego Cristóbal was younger than his cousin. He had
not traveled to Lima and had not read Garcilaso de la Vega, an impor-
tant impetus for the widely circulated idea of a return of the Incas under
Tupac Amaru’s leadership. Simply put, Diego Cristóbal might very well
have taken charge of the uprising, replacing his soon-to-be-martyred
cousin, in order to continue a Cuzco-based struggle against unbearable
corregidors, abuse, and exploitation. He did not necessarily envision a
mass, trans-Andean revolution.
spite these concerns, the two sides agreed to an initial meeting between
Diego Cristóbal and Ramón de Arias on December 9. Arias’s soldiers
remained ner vous and at midnight on the eighth jumped out of their
tents and grabbed their guns when they heard the sound of enemy sol-
diers. It was a false alarm— just some of their own men moving about.
In fact, Diego Cristóbal did not show up and asked for a few more days.
Diego Cristóbal sent a Franciscan friar to arrange the meeting for the
twelfth. On that day, jittery Spanish troops again became alarmed when
the rebels surrounded the hills above the meeting place. Both sides sent
representatives, priests, to determine an exact meeting spot. Arias fi-
nally met with Diego Cristóbal and requested that he hand over his sup-
porters’ weapons. Dressed elegantly in velvet pants and a lamé coat,
with a golden buckle and dress sword and a gold-tipped staff, the rebel
leader insisted that he would only do so with Commander del Valle and
Bishop Moscoso present. Diego Cristóbal promised to fulfill the terms of
the amnesty but made several demands: that the same corregidors not
be allowed to return; that Arias’ forces leave the area, in order to protect
the little livestock that remained; and that they hand over Indian prison-
ers. The meeting ended with handshakes, flag waving, and both armies
shouting “Long Live the King” and firing their rustic cannons.36
They met again the following day, December 13, in order to exchange
prisoners. A royalist commander opened a bottle of alcohol and took
the first drink to prove that it was not poison. Diego Cristóbal took a small
sip. Arias invited Diego Cristóbal to share a meal the following day, but
the rebel leader declined. Andrés Tupac Amaru remained leery, believ-
ing that it was a “trap, as they had done with the La Paz commander
[Tupac Katari].”37 The royalists left unarmed officers with the rebels as
security and the two sides met again to discuss “pacification.” Diego
Cristóbal insisted that he would only sign a treaty with creole officers,
not Spaniards. Arias rebutted that many of the Spaniards were fi ne
men but granted Diego Cristóbal his wish. The meeting became tense
when Diego Choquehuanca, the Azángaro kuraka, approached. The
rebels had killed two of his sons and forced the remainder of the family
to flee to Arequipa. They now used Choquehuanca’s house in Azángaro
as their base. Diego Cristóbal demanded that Choquehuanca stop star-
ing and denied any blame for his family’s woes. Choquehuanca’s
brother, a priest, demanded that both sides calm down. They managed
to sign a paper in which each side promised not to harm Indians or
Spaniards and to allow everyone to circulate. Once the paper was signed,
Diego Cristóbal pledged to bring the royalists some meat if they pledged
not to slaughter any of the few milk cows left. The rebel leader demon-
strated great concern about the state of the region’s livestock, under-
standing that local people would starve without cows, sheep, and llamas.
After the customary “Long Live the King” and gunshots signaled the end
of the meeting, Diego Cristóbal handed over a few prisoners.38
At this point, Viceroy Jáuregui, del Valle, and Moscoso worried that
the bloody execution of Tupac Katari would break the rebels’ already
weak resolve. They therefore insisted that Arias respect and even show
deference for Diego Cristóbal. For example, Arias accepted Diego Cris-
tóbal’s demand that the corregidor of Lampa, Vicente Oré, be excluded
from the post. Oré, in turn, had heard from authorities in the Titicaca
area that the rebels’ submission was a farce and they would soon
slaughter royalists. For Oré as well as Areche and other hard-liners, his
termination was a reprehensible slap in the face to a veteran com-
mander, a sign that the viceroy and his followers did not understand
the situation and would play into the rebels’ hands. Oré ridiculed the
agreement with Diego Cristóbal and exclaimed: “We cannot watch pa-
tiently as we become slaves of the Indians. We have lost hope of return-
ing to our houses.”39 Oré was bitter, and eager to unify the opponents
to a negotiated peace. While he exaggerated his pessimistic view of the
situation, he did capture the fact that relations between Indians and
Europeans had changed dramatically. Going back to his house, in both
the real and metaphorical sense, would be difficult if not impossible.40
Divisions among the Spanish increased toward the end of 1781; an
important faction of officers protested vehemently against negotiations.
They believed that the rebels would break the armistice and slaughter
them. One royalist, for example, wrote in January 1782 that “the rebel-
lion continues with greater tenacity, particularly in Chucuito and Ch-
ulamaní.” He criticized Arias for “fooling himself, just like all the other
commanders who have come to the Sierra [offering clemency], all
they’ve done is strengthen the rebellion. In the eyes of Indians, our
clemency just highlights Spanish weakness or cowardice and while our
army is sleeping in Lampa, the rebels are exterminating the few Span-
iards who remain in Chucuito.” 41
Diego Cristóbal had followers who told him the same thing about
the Spanish. These skeptics pleaded with him to continue the fight.
Loyalists and insurgents were asked to pardon those who had been at-
tacking them weeks before. Indians were supposed to trust royalists
while mestizo, creole, and Spanish townspeople had to put their faith
in the rebels. Each side had large, powerful factions that opposed the
amnesty. Royalists reported new outbreaks of violence, exaggerating or
inventing in some cases, and many believed that Diego Cristóbal him-
self would break the treaty or would fail to control his more violent
followers. On the other side, many rebels believed that the agreement
was either a trap or simply a terrible mistake. They could not compre-
hend handing over their arms when they were dominating the south-
ern Andes. They grieved over the execution of Tupac Katari, hoping
that it wasn’t a sign of their fate. Negotiations continued, however, and
the two sides agreed to meet in Sicuani, back in José Gabriel Tupac
Amaru’s base area, on January 20, 1782, the day of Saint Sebastian, a
soldier-saint venerated in Spain and in the Andes.
Both sides negotiated the 1782 encounter with elevated demands and
great wariness if not outright pessimism, a challenging combination for
any act of diplomacy. The royalists demanded that the rebels demon-
strate their submission to the Crown and confi rm their disavowal of
violence. Rebels expected authorities to exhibit their respect for the
Tupac Amaru dynasty and to reform or replace the corregidor system.
The context could not have been tenser: tens of thousands of dead, a
devastated economy, and large factions, perhaps the majority, on both
sides who believed that continued fighting was inevitable and even
preferable. It was not just a matter of ironing out details, offering guaran-
tees, handing over weapons, and convincing the skeptical. In eighteenth-
century Peru, politics were highly ritualistic. Protocol needed to be
followed about where to meet, what to sign, and how to celebrate or
recognize. For example, whether the rebels would eat at the same table
as the royalists proved to be an important question. A gaffe could lead
to a disagreement that could overturn the cease-fire. Both sides acted
cautiously.
Bishop Moscoso and Commander del Valle, accompanied by over
one thousand five hundred soldiers, reached Sicuani on January 17,
1782. En route, they freed Diego Cristóbal’s sister, Cecilia Tupac Amaru,
from the San Jerónimo jail. They bought her expensive clothing, but she
refused to wear it, contending that she was in mourning, eight months
after the mass executions in Cuzco. This was one of many signs that the
vously entered Sicuani and when one royalist soldier, the mestizo Matías
Pérez, called some of them alzados or rebels and insulted them, del Valle
quickly moved to punish him. In fact, Bishop Moscoso and Diego Cris-
tóbal themselves intervened to prevent Pérez’s execution.46
Royalists grumbled about how well the bishop, del Valle, and other
proponents of the amnesty treated the rebels. On January 29, 1782,
Bishop Moscoso confi rmed Diego Cristóbal and Manuela Tito Condori’s
marriage. They had married in Azángaro, but for the Spanish, the mar-
riage was not valid due to the excommunication and the context. Del
Valle was the godfather of the wedding and Corregidor Salcedo paid for
an elaborate wedding. Tito Condori was from Pitumarca, near the rebel
center, and she and much of her extensive family was with the insur-
gents from the beginning. They followed Diego Cristóbal and the other
second-phase leaders to the south in 1782, the point when she and Di-
ego Cristóbal fell in love. Unlike Micaela, Manuela apparently did not
lead troops or oversee logistics.47
Critics saw the wedding and all the attention paid to the couple exces-
sive, an affront to royalists.48 One anonymous but lengthy report from
September 1782 also complained that the bishop had allowed Diego
Cristóbal to stay in a room adjacent to his and treated him with great
affection. The writer also lamented that Areche, Major Joaquín Valcár-
cel, Corregidor Salcedo, and other authorities had danced a traditional
dance, cachua, with the bride and groom in the streets of Sicuani and that
the bishop had seated Tupac Amaru’s sister, Cecilia, at the same table as
Spanish and Church dignitaries. These and other “insults” or breaches
of etiquette constituted “unseemly indulgence with the rebels” with the
conclusion that “the government’s excessive humanitarianism with the
rebels is why pacification has taken so long.” 49 The agreement and ensu-
ing rituals in Sicuani infuriated many royalists.
In the following days and weeks, tens of thousands of Indians reached
Sicuani to confirm their acceptance of the amnesty, thirty thousand ac-
cording to Moscoso.50 On February 20, 1782, Viceroy Jáuregui called for
celebratory masses, lanterns, and bell ringing in Lima to celebrate the
peace.51 Andrés (Tupac Amaru) Mendigure arrived in Sicuani weeks later
to confirm his acceptance of the amnesty. Inspector del Valle, Bishop
Moscoso, and Viceroy Jáuregui were ecstatic. On the brink of defeat
months before, they had disarmed the rebels and implemented a truce
with seeming speed and ease.
The Return
Andrés Mendigure and Mariano Tupac Amaru had not attended the
Sicuani signings, but soon made their way toward Cuzco. Andrés
reached Sicuani on March 1 to present himself to del Valle and to rec-
ognize the cease-fi re. Once Andrés took an oath of fidelity, Father José
Gallegos absolved him from the excommunication. Andrés promised to
hand over the movement’s cannons and other weapons. Different con-
cerns haunted the two sides: the rebel leaders worried about their ex-
clusion from the Catholic Church while royalist officials made sure that
the rebels relinquished their fi repower. Mariano presented himself to
military officials in La Paz and then returned to Sicuani.2
Diego Cristóbal and the others persuaded Indians from his wife’s
hometown of Pitumarca to return to their town, which was abandoned
and overgrown with vegetation. Salcedo and Diego Cristóbal assured
the local population, which had massively supported the uprising, that
they were safe. They gave Indians from other key towns such as Laura-
marca, Ocongate, Calca, and Paucartambo similar assurances. The In-
dians in turn asked Salcedo to accompany them to their towns, to
make sure that corregidors and other authorities fulfi lled the promised
pardon and cease-fi re. In this highly polarized area, both sides believed
that the other was likely to seek bloody revenge. Valdés and Salcedo
understood that a small incident could spark new confrontations and
even a full-scale rebellion.9
Salcedo and Diego Cristóbal had to confront the delicate issue of
naming authorities. They understood the danger of a vacuum of power
but also knew that the question of whether to rename the same cor-
regidor or loyal kuraka or to fi nd replacements more acceptable to the
Indian majority could polarize the area, resurrecting the divisions that
marked the violence of the previous two years. In these early months,
they apparently decided on a case-by-case basis. The fi rst was perhaps
the greatest challenge: José Gabriel Tupac Amaru’s cacicazgo of Tunga-
suca, Pampamarca, and Surimana. Salcedo convinced Diego Cristóbal
not to assume the position in order to remain “independent of the gov-
ernment.” The rebel leader accepted, although unhappily according to
Salcedo, “as he’s used to being in charge.”10
The town of Checacupe presented a par tic ular challenge. Local In-
dians widely despised their kuraka, Aronis (no first name given in the
records), who had remained loyal to the Crown in the midst of the
fighting. Diego Cristóbal and Salcedo did not want to anger the major-
ity, but they wanted to recognize Aronis’s efforts. They came up with a
diplomatic solution, naming his son as the new kuraka.11 At this point,
in late March, Salcedo proposed that they continue to Calca, the Sacred
Valley, and then proceed to the Titicaca area to implement the pardon.
Inspector General del Valle, however, requested that they return to
Cuzco, which they did.12 Salcedo and Valdés presented their mission as
a success, an important step toward pacification. Hard-liners had a very
different interpretation.
Tensions flared in the upper provinces after their departure. In late
March, rival kurakas of the towns of Ocongate and Lauramarca, Andrés
modern borders
Orurillo
Muñani 0 50 miles
Asillo
Azángaro Putina 0 50 km
Santiago de Pupuja
Arapa
Vilque Chico Chuma
Taraco Moho
Lampa Mocomoco
Juliaca
Lake
Sorata B O L I V I A
Carabuco
Vilque Titicaca
Puno Ancoraimes
Chucuito
Achacuche
Acora Copacabana
Ilave Juli Huarina
San Pedro de Tiquina
P E R U Pomata Chulumani
Zepita Taraco La Paz
Desaguadero Tambillo
Collocollo
De s a
N
gu
ad
ero
Ri
v
er
lion was not over and that only repression could end it.15 One Spanish
commander, Raimundo Necochea, who became the Quispicanchi cor-
regidor, accused Diego Cristóbal of surreptitiously aiding Vilca Apaza
by attempting to impede the Arequipa Battalion from reaching the
Lake Titicaca area.16 Authorities captured another rebel commander
who did not accept the cease-fi re, Melchor Laura, in February. His tes-
timony heightened royalists’ concern about Tupac Amaru’s followers.
Laura declared that he had refused the pardon because of his “love for
Tupac Amaru” and that he only sought to control the province of Chu-
cuito for Tupac Amaru. They executed him.17
Royalists in La Paz moved to the north to extinguish any remnants
of the uprising. Their brutal, effective campaign eased the concerns of
many of their followers, making many pause to wonder why del Valle
could not have used similar tactics and gained similar results in his ex-
pedition from Cuzco to Puno in 1781. Some colonial officials, however,
worried that commanders used too much force and that the ruthless-
ness would backfi re. Even the official narrative, usually a laconic list of
success after success, victory after victory, captured the brutality and
wanton violence. The Arequipa battalion, which had met with Diego
Cristóbal and then captured Vilca Apaza, converged with other battal-
ions in La Paz and moved toward the hills above Juli. Sebastián Segu-
rola operated from La Paz to Caracoto, and del Valle and Orellana mo-
bilized in Carabuco and Mocomoco. In his account, Segurola describes
meeting some resistance but overcoming it quickly, leaving behind one
hundred fi fty dead. Royalists were not taking prisoners; they assumed
that all Indians were dangerous rebels. On April 22, near Collana, they
killed “five or six hundred enemies, of both sexes” without taking any
losses, numbers that indicate mass detentions and fi ring squads rather
than a confrontation.18 The pockets of rebels who resisted with what-
ever weapons they still had infuriated the royalist troops. In the eyes of
Segurola, this explained atrocious acts or “excesses,” such as killing a
woman about to give birth (seizing the fetus from the womb so it could
be baptized before dying) or swinging another pregnant woman against
a boulder to kill her. The genocide included infanticide. To Segurola’s
surprise, the rebels did not surrender or flee. Royalists burned down
the town of Mecapata, sparing only the country homes and estates of
prominent La Paz residents.19
Troops entered the town of Coní, and executed “eight Indians and
some children before burning most of the town down.” There they
freed captives taken by the rebels in the sieges of Sorata and La Paz. Arias
and other commanders pardoned some relatives of rebel leaders, although
these seem to be exceptions— the campaign relied on brutality as it
spread from La Paz toward Lake Titicaca and to the northeast. Bishop
Moscoso wrote to Viceroy Jáuregui to express his concern about the
bloodshed, but the campaign continued. By May 1782, royalists had
defeated the rebels north of La Paz and brutally punished those sus-
pected of aiding the insurgents and Indians.20 They looked to the trian-
gle between La Paz, Lake Titicaca, and the Yungas to the northeast with
satisfaction; Tupac Amaru’s core area to the south of Cuzco, however,
worried them.
would not work. He then returned to his previous obsession: that del
Valle received credit for the capture of José Gabriel whereas he had led
the charge.34
Jáuregui provided Madrid a much more positive summary of the
early 1782 events and the prospects for peace, complimenting the work
of Diego Cristóbal in the upper provinces. He explained the pension
granted to the rebel leaders as a reasonable expenditure to keep them
out of trouble. The Court returned the letter with a telling note in the
margin, dated February 10, 1783: “The king read this letter with con-
sternation due to the fact that pensions were granted to these infamous
and sacrilegious rebel chiefs without due process, necessity, or a motive
that could excuse excess that sets such a bad example. . . . His Majesty
deems that in very reserved form the viceroy and Visitador Escobedo be
instructed fi rmly, yet without alerting the public and thus discrediting
that weak and poorly advised government [Peru], to fi nd the way to
amend such a great error, and attempt to have Diego Cristóbal and his
two nephews safely in Lima, which should have been the fi rst priority
after they surrendered.”35
A note from Madrid dated February 27, 1783 underlines the king’s
dismay about the “distinctions” granted the rebel leaders. The king’s
anonymous scribe explained that if they, Indians in general, became
too proud, “they would become what we were for them in the time of
the Conquest.” In the name of the king, the writer complained about
the celebrations for the cease-fire, the publication of the decree, the fi re-
works, and solemn mass, maintaining that the rebels did not deserve
such honors and that these events broke protocol.36 Although soon to
be replaced in Peru, Visitador Areche had gained the ear of the court in
Madrid in the long paper war that stretched through 1781 and 1782.
His ire at this point focused on the deal struck with Diego Cristóbal and
company.
Andrés “a cruel monster” for his role in the death of Spaniards in So-
rata. Campos maintained that although women and children begged
for mercy with tear-fi lled eyes, Andrés slaughtered them anyway due
to “this Attila’s implacable hatred, his desire to exterminate everyone,
to take over this kingdom, and to allow the Dev il to return to control
these dominions.” 45
These writers based their views on their experience in the brutal
battles of late 1781, their ensuing hatred for the Tupac Amaru clan, and
their belief that rebel fury would soon rekindle in Tungasuca and the
Sicuani area. They did not trust the rebels. Other hard-liners highlighted
disturbing events in 1782, after the cease-fi re was signed, to support
their argument that the Tupac Amaru clan had to be exterminated.
They believed that a dangerous conspiracy was brewing in the upper
provinces, particularly around Marcapata and Ocongate, which could
spark a new phase of insurgency. They also identified other signs of
disobedience and potential indigenous subversion. These events, real or
invented, changed the course of Peruvian history.
The evidence on the unrest comes primarily from royalists and needs
to be read critically. Hard-liners eagerly sought a pretext to sabotage the
cease-fi re. Areche and others read reports of Indians gathering and fur-
tive messengers going back and forth from Pampamarca and Tungas-
uca with a certain glee— the uncovering of a conspiracy could undo the
cease-fi re and force the viceroy and Bishop Moscoso to the side. More-
over, after two years of vicious fighting, anxiety ran high, and many
Spaniards saw any sign of indigenous resistance (a hint of defiance or
even the refusal to show deference) as a portent of an impending revolt.
They saw Indian belligerence everywhere.
Yet the accounts do not sound like fabrications or ridiculous exag-
gerations. The uprising had ended abruptly, far too soon for the droves of
indigenous people who believed that victory was imminent, that the
Spanish were on the ropes, that radical change was at hand. Many fol-
lowers reproached Diego Cristóbal for having signed the amnesty. Fur-
thermore, many indigenous peasants, even if they did not seek the con-
tinuation of the uprising, refused to accept a return to the old ways of
Spanish domination, such as Indian submission or abuse by outsiders.
They believed that the uprising, no matter how it concluded, had earned
them increased rights. People understood the peace treaty in different
ways, and after its signing local struggles erupted or reignited— about
the naming of local authorities, land, taxes, the role of the Church, and
the other grievances that had sparked the Tupac Amaru and other up-
risings. In an area torn by a brutal guerrilla war for over a year, which
had ended on terms not accepted by all sides, multiple tensions and mis-
understandings remained. These could spiral into confrontations; the
cease-fire and amnesty disliked by many remained fragile.
One other feature suggests that these conspiracies were not just roy-
alist fabrications or delusions. They had an odd, quixotic nature that
reproduced one of the characteristics of late eighteenth-century indig-
enous uprisings in the Andes: the creative search for a model or a plat-
form. The instigators claimed to fight in the name of Diego Cristóbal
and saw him as their leader. His critics claimed that Diego Cristóbal was
the mastermind; defenders said that he had not participated and in fact
did not know about the conspiracies. The instigators expressed broad
veneration for “the Inca” and incorporated material elements from the
uprising such as flags, banners, and velvet sashes. The conspiracy de-
scribed by local officials in the upper provinces and relayed by anxious
yet pleased authorities to Lima and Madrid was just unique enough
and contained enough verisimilitude that it was probably true.
Throughout 1782 and early 1783, authorities reported numerous
signs that the rebel leaders and followers had not accepted the cease-
fi re and were planning to resume the fight. They pointed to Indians’
veneration for Diego Cristóbal, proof not only that Indians remained
hopeful about renewed fighting but also that the Tupac Amaru leaders,
by accepting and even fostering this respect, had acted in bad faith and
ultimately planned to strike again. In September 1782 a local judge in
Pomacanchi, the textile town just to the north of Pampamarca that
José Gabriel Tupac Amaru had ransacked in the fi rst days of the upris-
ing, complained that “birds, lambs, and eggs” could not be found in the
market because people were stockpiling them to give to Diego Cristóbal
and his mother: “We can just about say they idolize them.” This author-
ity warned that “the idolatry will not stop until the idol, Diego Cris-
tóbal, is separated from these brutes; the fi re will remain lit and even
spread because of the barbarous straw [pajas bárbaras] that surrounds
him.” 46
In the coming months and years, royalists would develop this meta-
phor of smoldering ashes in a perilously combustible situation, explain-
ing the danger as due to Indians’ rusticity and veneration for the Inca
past as well as the rebel leaders’ treachery and haughtiness. In September
1782, Commander Avilés glumly noted that in the upper provinces, de-
spite the leaders’ seeming submission, “the Indians still venerate them.” 47
In the same month, a royalist commander observed with disapproval
that when a poor Indian saw Andrés Tupac Amaru [Mendigure], he
kneeled down in honor.48 The loquacious corregidor Baulen denounced
Indians who “see Diego Cristóbal as a superior man and offer him hom-
ages suitable only for a deity.” Baulen argued that this respect had fi lled
the young rebel leader with vanity, haughtiness, and pride and height-
ened his hypocrisy.49 For royalists, these signs of reverence confi rmed
that the danger of the rebellion had not faded.
They also found evidence that Indians of the upper provinces col-
laborated with Diego Cristóbal in a plan to renew fighting. In June 1782
corregidor Necochea accused Andrés Mendigure of building a house
with a chapel, a refuge, in a “secret place” called Coñamuro above
Ocongate. Necochea believed that Andrés and his followers were biding
time before striking again.50 An Indian, Alejo Quispe, had told one of
Necochea’s trusted friends that Andrés had instructed Indians of the
Pampamarca and Labramarca area to disobey Necochea’s commands
and requested that they build him a house. Someone else told Neco-
chea that a defiant Indian woman named Buenaventura Antequera
had shouted that the pukakunkas who came from the town of Urcos to
sell their goods needed to be told that the land was not theirs but the
Indians’, as they had “defeated them in war.” She instructed Indians
not to give up their weapons to any authority, because they had strug-
gled so hard to gain them.51 Necochea explained that these rumors
worried him because the Tupac Amaru family frequented the area and
because dangerous former rebels remained active.
Alejo Quispe testified through a translator that when in Ocongate
and Lauramarca to buy sheep, he had heard an Indian council mem-
ber, a regidor, tell the Coñamuro mayor that Andrés Mendigure and
Diego Cristóbal Tupac Amaru, “our little father [nuestro Padre chiquito],”
had ordered local Indians not to recognize Necochea as the corregidor
of Quispicanchi and to disobey his representatives. The rebel leaders
explained that they, “Inca Diego Tupa Amaro” and Andrés Mendigure,
were lying low until the Spanish dropped their guard. The rebel leaders
needed the house built for them in a secure place such as Coñamuro to
“commit their treachery.” Quispe continued that the Indians of the
area had faith in their “Inca” or “king.” Diego Cristóbal would aid them
and, in return, had instructed them not to obey priests and corregidors.
The local Indians declared that with “our king” [Diego Cristóbal],
the pukakunkas would never defeat them. Quispe, an illiterate forty-
six-year-old man, claimed that he reported this as soon as he arrived in
Ocongate.
The Indian mayor of Ocongate, Manuel Caguana, testified on July
23 that Andrés Mendigure had been in his town ten days earlier to ob-
tain wood for the building. The mayor confi rmed that the regidor, Este-
ban Mamani, had told him about “Inga Chiquito [the little Inca] An-
drés Mendiguri Tupa Amaro” and that Andrés had ordered them not to
obey Necochea. Mamani then stated that Andrés had gathered two hun-
dred Indians in the kuraka’s house in Lauramarca and given a speech in
which he ordered them not to obey Necochea. The rebel leader re-
quested their patience until Inspector del Valle returned to Lima “and
then all the pukakunkas and mestizos will pay with their lives, we will
possess everything, all of the wealth that is found everywhere.” Ma-
mani claimed that Andrés did this in the name of Diego Cristóbal, who
had determined that Coñamuro was the best place for the house and
chapel. Andrés told the gathered Indians that Diego Cristóbal would
send written instructions, including orders that priests not overcharge
for burials. The Indians “threw their hats [monteras] in the air, yelled
‘Long Live our Inca, Long Live our King,’ ” and pledged to defend him
with their lives. Mamani closed by claiming that the rebel followers
had hidden their fusils, daggers, sabers, and other weapons in nearby
valleys “with the intention of rising up again once Inspector del Valle
leaves for Lima.”52 Necochea led a group to Coñamuro in early Septem-
ber and razed the building that Indian workers had begun.53
The accusations need to be read carefully. One feature makes Quispe’s
testimony dubious—he repeats almost line by line the summary that
Necochea gave of the conspiracy. It seems that the illiterate Quispe was
told to confirm what Necochea had reported and did not present his own
version. In trials, testimonies almost invariably differ in details and fo-
cus; in this case, they were virtual duplicates. Necochea presumably
could have asked Quispe to recite what the corregidor had already writ-
ten the day before. Not surprisingly, the humble indigenous man fol-
lowed orders. However, the accusations could be true. The Indians of
Ocongate and Lauramarca had actively supported the rebels and would
have rejoiced at the presence of Andrés Mendigure. The rebel leader, in
turn, would have probably appreciated the veneration and have stoked
the insurgent dreams of those around him with his mere presence. On
the other hand, he might simply have been building a second home and
have been falsely accused due to specious rumors or the fabrications of
the corregidor, who aimed to strengthen his grasp on the rebellious
Quispicanchi province. Hard-liners in Cuzco and Lima eagerly sought
such news in order to bolster their argument that Diego Cristóbal and the
other leaders needed to be detained in order to prevent a new uprising.
Officials subsequently accused Diego Cristóbal of instigating the
problems in the upper provinces during his pacification visit in March
1782. Fernando Iguilus, an illiterate Spaniard from Ocongate, claimed
that the Indians “from Ocongate to Marcapata have not accepted the
pardon with good faith.” He contended that during this March visit
Diego Cristóbal had surreptitiously told a large group of Indians to
gather their weapons and wait for him in Lauramarca, ready for battle.
Diego Cristóbal promised them that they would become “owners of the
haciendas and Spaniards’ land,” redistributed to the ayllus, the tradi-
tional units of Andean political and social life. He also vowed the aboli-
tion of the corregidor office, to be replaced by a local judge in every
town, one of José Gabriel’s promises. Diego Cristóbal requested that
they remain vigilant and defend him if he were in trouble.54 Iguilus
added that in the conversations he overheard, Indians expressed great
hatred toward Spaniards and love toward Tupac Amaru.
Other Spaniards testified in late 1782 that in March Diego Cristóbal
had instructed Indians to have their weapons ready to defend him. He
reminded them what he had done for them and promised to abolish cor-
regidors and redistribute land. Felipe Mendoza, a Spaniard from Ocon-
gate, stated that Diego Cristóbal told a group of Indians not to work on
haciendas as the Spanish owners could get “blacks or other castas” to do
the work.55 Esteban Grados, also a Spaniard from Ocongate, declared
that Diego Cristóbal demanded that the Indians not do free ser vice la-
bor, pongo, for anyone, including priests.56
In September, Inspector General Avilés wrote the viceroy that the
Tupac Amaru clan had active supporters in the upper provinces and
that even though the Tupac Amaru leaders had accepted the pardon,
the Indians there “still venerate them.” He answered the question of
how Diego Cristóbal had proselytized and rabble-roused in his March
pacification campaign when in the company of Salcedo and, for a time,
del Valle. Avilés clamed that the sneaky rebel leader took advantage of
Francisco Salcedo’s monolingualism, exhorting his Indian followers in
Quechua in front of the uncomprehending corregidor.57 Avilés insisted
that they needed to get Mariano, Andrés, and Diego Cristóbal out of
Cuzco but that they had limited options. The three rebel leaders re-
jected Bishop Moscoso and Salcedo’s pressure to go to Lima and in-
sisted on remaining in the Vilcanota Valley, where they had family and
an income. If removed by force, however, Indians would rise up in a
mutiny. Furthermore, Avilés worried that the young rebel leaders could
simply disappear, escape from surveillance, and perhaps resurrect the
uprising in the south or elsewhere.58
It is unclear whether Diego Cristóbal told his supporters in the upper
provinces to prepare for a new uprising. Perhaps he simply acknowl-
edged their support and his frustration with the cease-fi re. Indians
might have understood this as a suggestion that the rebellion was not
over. Or the Spaniards who testified might have interpreted indigenous
restlessness and renewed tension as a sign that Diego Cristóbal had en-
couraged the Indians. This would have reflected the widespread belief
among Spaniards that Indians could not act, let alone organize, on
their own, but would follow loyally. The testimonies are second- or third-
hand and the people who testified about Diego Cristobal’s supposed
invocations or the Spaniards who overhead Indians talk about it could
have misunderstood, exaggerated, and even fabricated. What is true
without a doubt is that the Indians of the upper provinces around Ocon-
gate and Lauramarca remained mobilized throughout 1782. The rebel-
lion had not ended for them, or at least was not going to end on terms
that returned Indian-Spanish relations to the status quo.
One of the Spaniards who testified about Diego Cristobal’s supposed
rabble-rousing explained that in mid-1782 “the Indians of that area [the
upper provinces] are as arrogant and dangerous as they were in the
time of the rebellion, and they don’t let any Spaniard go by. The only
difference with the pardon is that they aren’t killing people any more,
although they are willing to continue their excesses.” He also noted
that they were still armed.59 Authorities did not invent these rebels in
the upper provinces— they were there, waiting for their Inca. One
account described Andrés Quispe leading Indians from Ocongate, Ca-
ñamuro, and Andamayo, insisting that they not be fooled by the pu-
kakunkas and that they keep their weapons.60 In the hills above Catca,
Quispe’s followers detained an Indian councilman from the Muñacpata
ayllu. They told him that only Tupac Amaru, who they held for their
“true Inca,” could give orders and name authorities. They mentioned
that Mariano Tupac Amaru was in Marcapata and that they awaited
orders from Diego Cristóbal. These rebels concerned authorities even
though controlling the upper provinces, an indigenous area that was not
central to the regional economy, was not their top priority. What the
colonial officials sought, however, was proof of ties to the Tupac Amaru
leadership.61
claimed that he was just jotting down some verbs when witnesses saw
him.66
The courts scrutinized their activities in Lima. Their lives in the City
of the Kings seem to reflect the same pattern as in Cuzco: some people
venerated them and others chided them for having given up the struggle.
While struggling to find a place in the postrebellion society, they also
enjoyed themselves a bit. At one point Andrés asked Vicente Ninavilca to
write a letter to his mother, as the post was leaving soon for Cuzco. He
instructed Ninavilca to write her: “Don’t be upset, the viceroy has
treated us well, offering to help us establish ourselves. It’s best that Di-
ego Cristóbal come soon to fi nish all of these matters.” Andrés would
soon learn that his optimism was misplaced.67
In February 1783, while Andrés and Mariano were still learning
their way around Lima, Corregidor Necochea uncovered another revolt
or conspiracy around Marcapata in highland Cuzco. He had arrested
Santos Guaygua, a rebel and kuraka who had never recognized the
cease-fire, and learned that rebels from Azángaro were approaching the
upper provinces. Necochea beheaded Guaygua and exhibited his head
throughout the area.68 According to numerous, confusing accounts,
rebels from Azángaro led by Andrés Condorpuse and Guaygua, reached
Marcapata in late January 1783. Condorpuse and his son, who took the
names Simón and Lorenzo Condori, wore a black felt sash with silver
embroidery and a cross in the middle that they claimed had been given
to them by Inga Tupac Amaru, presumably Diego Cristóbal. Although
they maintained that their forces came from Azángaro to the south, in
the trial Simón Condori identified himself as a tailor from Chilca, Pitu-
marca, in Tupac Amaru’s home base. In Marcapata, the Condoris de-
clared to the assembled Indians that more troops were waiting at the
Ausangate glacier, a sacred place or huaca for Andean people, and that
Mariano would arrive from Lima. The town’s priest tried to intervene
but the crowd overlooked his entreaties to reject the rebels. Officials
reported that “Indians” had threatened market women and stolen live-
stock.69 Condori reportedly told people in Marcapata that even more
troops were waiting in the towns above Paucartambo and that Diego
Cristóbal would join them in the time of Carnival. They were arrested
days after their fiery speech in Marcapata.
The Spanish found letters and documents from Diego Cristóbal and
Mariano recognizing Simón Condori as their representative and granting
him power. For the Spanish, this was proof of an alarming conspiracy.
The rebel leaders, however, denied having produced the documents
and implied that the Spanish had planted them.70 In his trial, Simón
Condori declared that he had received the sash from Mariano Tupac
Amaru’s servant, Diego Quero, who in turn claimed that he received
the papers and other materials he handed over to Condori from some-
one named Juan Laya. These accounts frustrated the investigators’ ef-
forts to uncover a direct link with the Tupac Amaru leaders. Lorenzo
Condori, however, maintained that his father had met Mariano Tupac
Amaru, who had told the elder Condori “I’m off to Lima with little An-
drés. Pray day and night that we return safely; if I die, Andrés will re-
turn, if he dies, I will return.” Lorenzo Condori contended that Mariano
instructed Simón Condori to be the commander of the new uprising.71
Mariano denied knowing Lorenzo but remembered Simón Condori for
his role in the earlier phase of the uprising in Azángaro.72
The flare-up in Marcapata seems believable. Lake Titicaca and the
upper provinces were the last hotbeds of rebel support. Insurgents from
the south would have found comrades in the peaks about the Vilcanota
Valley. Whether the Condoris had the support of Diego Cristóbal, An-
drés, and Mariano is unclear. The evidence seems tenuous. Nonethe-
less, it did not matter. In the eyes of the hard-liners, they had sufficient
evidence to show that trouble was brewing throughout Peru: the con-
spiring cousins in Lima, the defiant Diego Cristóbal still in Cuzco, armed
rebels in the upper provinces, and Indian followers throughout the vice-
royalty. Authorities acted swiftly.
Viceroy Jáuregui placed Mata Linares in charge of the trial. Unlike the
1781 prosecution of José Gabriel and his inner circle, this time they ar-
raigned hundreds of defendants. Mata Linares himself recognized that
in the month he was granted to conclude the trials, he could not “in
terms of the principal case against Diego and his family, get a fi rm grip
[ fijar pie] on anything substantial.”8 The accusation repeated the litany
of dubious claims made by royalists throughout 1782: the three rebel
leaders had received suspicious visitors and had been treated as Incas;
they had sought to build a refuge in Marcapata and reignite the upris-
ing; they had honored their convicted and executed family members
and led sordid private lives; they had not returned stolen goods and had
gold, silver, and weapons hidden somewhere; and they had supported
Condorpuse and other rebels in the upper provinces.9 The trial reiter-
ated these charges ad nauseam, stressing that Diego Cristóbal had not
respected the pardon and had acted in bad faith. The prosecution called
in witnesses and had the accused testify against one another. They did
not allow extended testimonies or rebuttals. With the trial, the prose-
cutors sought to confi rm and disseminate the reports or rumors about
the rebel leaders’ misdeeds and the subversive spirit still brewing in the
area. and to dampen potential accusations that they, the colonial au-
thorities, had broken the terms of the pardon. Although Mata Linares
and others followed basic protocol, the sentences were foregone conclu-
sions and the rushed trials a farce.10
On May 31, 1783, prosecutors sentenced Diego Cristóbal, his mother
Marcela Castro, his wife Manuela Tito Condori, and Lorenzo and
Simón Condori to death, although ultimately they did not execute Tito
outside of Cuzco toward the Vilcanota Valley, and her other body parts
were displayed in Sicuani, Urcos Bridge, Pampamarca, Ocongate. Exe-
cutioners incinerated her torso in a fire in the main plaza and “threw her
ashes into the air.”16 Avilés and Mata Linares explained: “Monuments
to their excesses will remain in the areas where Diego Cristóbal and his
accomplices displayed their bloodthirsty nature, as fragments of their
cadavers will be distributed there.”17 A week after the execution, with
the news perhaps having reached Lima but certainly not Madrid, the
King signed a royal order decreeing that Diego Cristóbal and his cous-
ins be sent to Spain alive. To the satisfaction of Avilés and Mata Lin-
ares, it was too late.18
Authorities decided to try Mariano and Andrés in Lima, perhaps
fearing a return trip to Cuzco. In their March 1783 testimonies, Mari-
ano and Andrés recognized Felipe Velasco Tupa Inca Yupanqui’s (often
shortened to Felipe Tupa Inca) visits to their room in Lima and his dis-
appointment that they had disarmed. He had chastised them for ac-
cepting the royalists’ offer, assuring them that “now is the time to rise
up because the province of Huarochirí, those around Lima, and that of
Cajamarca [to the north] will be ours soon.”19 Prosecutors ordered
Tupa Inca’s arrest but he snuck out of Lima and made it to the Andean
area of Huarochirí, just to the east. Tupa Inca called for locals to rise up
against the Spanish. He claimed to be following “his cousin” José Ga-
briel Tupac Amaru, whom he believed either alive, presumably in the
jungle, or alive in spirit in Diego Cristóbal. A Spanish commander,
with three other Spaniards and a black slave, reached Huarochirí and
imprisoned Tupa Inca on June 2. On their return, they stumbled upon
fi fteen hundred rebels, and barely escaped. They continued to Lima
and a larger group left the viceregal capital to confront the nearby reb-
els. They arrested Tupa Inca’s commander, Ciriaco Flores, and eight
accomplices.
The rapid investigation confi rmed that Tupa Inca, a Lima mirror
maker with no real blood ties to the Tupac Amaru family, had met with
Mariano and Andrés and boasted of grandiose plans to resurrect the
uprising in Lima’s Andean backyard. Tupa Inca personified widespread
discontent over the breakdown of the pardon and anger at both the
royalists for their treachery and the second wave of rebel leaders for be-
ing duped. In their testimonies, Tupa Inca and Flores also noted their
belief that José Gabriel Tupac Amaru was alive— his execution was a
Pampamarca
Tungasuca Tinta
Sicuani
Ap
Chumbivilcas
urim a c R
iver
Azángaro
Lampa Lake
Titicaca
Condesuyos
Puno
Chuquibamba
Arequipa
Pacific
Ocean
The anonymous man somehow gave Juan Bautista a horse, which pro-
vided for a better journey. The other prisoners were on beaten-down
mules. Each time they fell, their chains chafed their skin and the guards’
bayonets forced them back up.
Juan Bautista described relentless hunger, thirst, and cruelty. His
mother, Ventura Monjarras, died of dehydration, the guards spurning
her pleas for water. They arrived in Lima after forty days, but their fate
did not improve. Guards jammed them into a dungeon in the Callao
fort, “the most melancholy place imaginable,” and kept them tied to a
chain that ran through it. The guards continued to torment them in nu-
merous ways. Their via crucis, particularly that of Juan Bautista, was not
over.29
The official documentation also portrays a miserable trip, due not to
Spanish cruelty but rather to the challenging terrain between Cuzco
and Lima and the lack of cooperation by both local authorities and the
prisoners. The convoy took the Cuzco-Abancay-Huamanga-Ica route,
and misfortune and desperation struck in the latter half, once they
passed Huamanga. On November 5 Commander Jacinto Iriarte sent a
desperate note to his commanding officer, “I am on the Royal Highway
with troops and the prisoners, and I don’t know exactly where we are,
our cargo has been lost, and the prisoners are sick. We don’t have wa-
ter, food, or mules.”30 The group had been stuck for four days near Cas-
trovirreyna, in the breathtaking mountain passes that tower between
the desert coast and Huamanga. Several mules had died (an indication
of the route’s severity) and indigenous muleteers had fled with many
others. The group ran out of water and had to break through the rocky
soil to unearth a small, putrid puddle.
A priest of the nearby town of Tambillo arranged for a tobacco trader,
Pedro Villanueva, to rescue the lost and hungry contingent from the
high peaks called San Martín. Villanueva tracked the lost group with
his 100 mules. The priest underlined their desperation, noting that the
coastal troops simply could not withstand the arid, two-mile-high
mountain passes.31 He brought them horses and meat and arranged for
the group to recover in Tambillo. Two prisoners died in the frigid weather
and one, Bernardo Castro, escaped, causing further delays and harsh
punishment for several guards. Commander Iriarte noted that Castro
was married and had children in Tinta and missed them greatly. Iriarte
blamed the fiasco on the fact that the corregidor of Castrovirreyna was
London
BRAZIL Paris
Callao PERU
Lima Huamanga PORTUGAL Madrid SPAIN
(Ayacucho) Peniche Getafe
Washington DC Cuzco Seville
Pisco Castrovirreyna Lisbon Cádiz
Abancay
Ceuta Algiers Tunis
BOLIVIA
journey Cuzco-Lima
by Juan Bautista La Paz
and other prisoners
Havana modern borders
CHILE
San Juan
SENEGAL
Dakar
Cartagena
Lagos
Quito
PERU
Callao BRAZIL
Lima Salvador
Cuzco
La Paz
A T L A N T I C
BOLIVIA
Rio de Janeiro O C E A N
São Paulo
CHILE
ARGENTINA
Santiago
Montevideo
Buenos
Aires
Talcahuano/
Concepción
El Peruano
ill and his substitute had not arranged for fresh mules and supplies
along the route. Even after their rescue and arrival at Ica, the group had
to confront the summer sun as they moved north up the desert coast.
After delays and the death of six prisoners, they reached Lima around
November 22.32
Viceroy Jáuregui confi rmed the July 26, 1783 royal order to send
the surviving rebel leaders to Spain. He wanted neither leniency nor
more executions, and after the Huarochirí scare he agreed with the
hard-liners about the need to remove the entire family. In March 1784
the Lima Audiencia or High Court sentenced Mariano, Andrés, Juan
Bautista, and Fernando to ten years of hard labor in a Spanish presidio
to be selected by the king. The viceroy insisted that they not be sent to
Africa or any other presidio outside of Spain, because they might es-
cape and spread their subversive message.33 The war with England had
limited the number of ships leaving Callao for Europe, however, caus-
ing a huge backup of cargo, above all precious metals. In desperate
need of revenue, authorities in Spain demanded that their counterparts
in Peru send as much gold and silver as quickly as possible once it was
feasible. After numerous delays, two warships, El Peruano and the San
Pedro de Alcántara, left Callao on April 13, 1784. Dockworkers over-
loaded both ships. The San Pedro de Alcántara carried almost double its
normal load, including 600 tons of copper, 153 tons of silver, and 4 tons
of gold.34 Tito Condori, Diego Cristóbal’s widow, could not board be-
cause of an illness, perhaps tuberculosis, and died in Peru in March
1785.35 Juan Bautista, Mariano, and twenty-seven other prisoners as
well as the renowned French botanist Joseph Dombey traveled on the
Peruano.36
Juan Bautista provided a graphic description of the dreadful jour-
ney. The prisoners were chained together on deck, with nothing but
“an old poncho” and a sheep hide to protect them from the sun, rain,
and cold. They were so hungry that they scrambled to grab the bones
that their shipmates threw at their feet. Illnesses spread, particularly
scurvy, due to malnutrition and the lack of vitamin C, and one evening
the two men tied to Juan Bautista died. The sadistic crew took hours to
remove them. When prisoners complained to the commander, he threat-
ened to tie them to the cannons. They gained a temporary reprieve
when two French prisoners, who were enlisted to fi x the broken rud-
der, demanded that the chains be removed from all of the prisoners;
the mates clamped them back on as soon as the repair was fi nished.
Juan Bautista noted that when “one of my little nephews” died in ag-
ony of colic, the Spanish only laughed or remained indifferent.37 Juan
Bautista was not exaggerating. By the time the ship had reached Rio de
Janeiro, Mariano Tupac Amaru had died, along with fifteen others, in-
cluding four minors. Crewmen presumably dumped Mariano, José
Gabriel and Micaela’s son and one of the leaders of the rebellion’s sec-
ond stage, into the Atlantic Ocean. Two others passed away in Brazil,
before the ship left for Spain.38
In four months in Rio the crew tied the prisoners to the mainmast
(palo mayor) during the day and left them chained to the foremast at
night. They continued to do this on the voyage across the Atlantic. Their
commander worried that a British ship might board and free the pris-
oners, which made the crew even more abusive. A guard offered the
hungry Juan Bautista some crackers and when he returned with his
treasure hidden in his ragged hat, he fell from his old spot that the
guard had booby-trapped, breaking two ribs. His chest ached the rest of
his life. Juan Bautista also pointed out the Spanish hypocrisy about
religion. The crew prohibited the prisoners from praying, which Juan
Bautista interpreted as a way to reinforce the notion that they were
inferior, not true Catholics. They reached Cádiz on March 1, 1785. Of the
twenty-nine prisoners that left Lima in 1784 on the Peruano, only four
were alive in 1788.39 Juan Bautista was so weak that soldiers had to
carry him to his cell in the San Sebastián castle. His troubles were far
from over.40
Shockingly, the San Pedro de Alcántara expedition was worse. Chil-
ean naval officials would not let the man-of-war anchor in the port of
Talcahuano because they worried that Fernando Tupac Amaru (José
Gabriel and Micaela’s youngest son) would subvert Indians and mesti-
zos. Commander Manuel Fernando de Montoya decided to return to
Callao. While still on the Pacific side of South America, sixteen of the
forty-one prisoners had died due to vile conditions. Departing for the
second time on December 21, 1784, the overloaded ship made it across
the Atlantic, after stops in Concepción, Chile and Rio de Janeiro. The
ship had numerous leaks and the crew had to use the pumps around
the clock. Disaster struck on February 2, 1786. The man-of-war ship-
wrecked near Peniche, Portugal, north of Lisbon. Andrés Tupac Amaru
and seventeen other prisoners died while up to six prisoners survived,
including Fernando. The Spanish claimed to have lost over 7.5 million
pesos in gold and silver. Forty divers paid by the Spanish government
worked around the clock for four years after the shipwreck to recover
the gold, silver, and copper, the largest diving enterprise up to that point
in European history.41 Documents about the prisoners on both ships
tumbled overboard in the wreck and authorities in Cádiz scrambled to
identify the prisoners already held there and those arriving from Portu-
gal.42 In recent decades archeologists discovered the graves of the dead
who either washed up on shore or were retrieved from the ship. Euro-
peans had individual graves; the political prisoners were dumped in a
pile, their chains still on many of them.43
Authorities sent the surviving prisoners to jails and presidios in
Spain. Fernando, who at the age of ten had witnessed the brutal execu-
tion of his parents Micaela and José Gabriel, reached shore after the
shipwreck and wandered around for three days before turning himself
in. He spent three years in a miserable, humid cell in Cádiz. In 1787, at
the age of sixteen, he petitioned the king for his release. He or his law-
yer noted that his only crime was being the son of his father, and that
as a child, “he had no broader knowledge of the world other than what
he learned from chasing butterfl ies, imbibed in this and other child-
hood activities.” 44 The following year he was interned at a school
in Getafe and made clear that he did not want to become a priest. Not
surprisingly in light of his years of imprisonment, the terrible journey
to Spain, and the traumas he endured, he suffered various ailments
and died in Madrid on August 19, 1798. Even the innocuous documents
about his education and possible employment reminded the reader, “This
subject is the son of the principal author of the past revolutions of Peru,
Josef Gabriel Tupacamaro. He was sent to Spain to remove from Peru
the memory of those events as well as the only inheritor of his father’s
rights.” 45
Juan Bautista’s woes continued, although he ultimately had the sat-
isfaction of frustrating the royalists’ vow to rid the Americas of all Tupac
Amaru family members. His memoirs, written in the 1820s in Argen-
tina just after independence, cast the Spaniards as relentlessly brutal.
During his thirty-nine months in the San Sebastián castle, “I have no
memory of a single Spaniard showing any human sign.” 46 He was then
sent to Ceuta, Spain’s northern African outpost. He lived in this presi-
dio just across the Strait of Gibraltar from Spain with an exploitative
Machines
By the time the prisoners had been forced onto the warships in April
1784, Cuzco found itself with new authorities. Mata Linares remained
as Cuzco’s fi rst intendant in a new administrative system inaugurated
in 1784 and Escobedo y Alarcón had replaced Areche as visitador. Eight
intendancies were created, with that of Puno transferred to Rio de la
Plata. The idea was to count on authorities closer to local society than
the viceroy and his court in Lima yet less abusive and corrupt than the
corregidors, who were replaced by subdelegates. In order to discourage
shady pacts between officials and locals, the intendancy program pledged
adequate salaries for the intendants and subdelegates.51
These policies sought to dislodge any trace of the Incas in the Cuzco
region and to assimilate the Quechua people into Spanish customs and
language by force. Simply put, this was cultural genocide, and they
failed. The Spanish did not have the resources to force Indians to
switch languages, to abandon Quechua. Areche and others could blame
priests for allowing Quechua to slip into Mass and other rituals and
could devise plans to punish non-Indians who did not impose Spanish
on indigenous people, but they could not compel the majority of Cuz-
co’s population to give up their mother tongue and shift to Spanish
monolingualism.57 In fact, Areche and others presented no plan to in-
doctrinate or assimilate other than the abolition of Quechua, Inca cus-
toms, Garcilaso de la Vega, and so on. The fact that Areche was called
back to Spain in 1782 (departing Peru in 1783) and eventually prose-
cuted for his heavy-handed policies, which some in Madrid believed
sparked the uprising, certainly weakened the anti-Indian crusade.58
Nonetheless, Mata Linares remained in Cuzco until 1787 and shared
Areche’s passion for extirpating all things Inca from the Andes.
Mata Linares could not implement Areche’s draconian vision. The
explanation can be found not in administrative shifts (the replacement
of a particular authority), but instead in the lack of resources committed
by the Spanish to such a radical transformation, and to Indians’ resis-
tance. The extirpation of all things Inca, including the Quechua language,
would have required massive resources and a fundamental restructur-
ing of Andean society. It was probably doomed from the beginning—
eliminating a major linguistic group, an entire culture with deep roots
that preceded the majestic Incan Empire (1250–1550), would daunt
even the most ambitious imperialist— but especially if the metropolis
showed little interest. Despite the alarmist reports about how Indians’
autonomy had nearly cost Spain its South American holdings, Madrid
expressed lukewarm support for the project.
Two decades later, in 1805, a Cuzco authority sought to understand
a recent uprising in Cuzco, that of Aguilar and Ubalde. He cited Mata
Linares, who had been in Spain since 1803, and reiterated what Mata
Linares considered the four principal causes for Andean subordination:
“the superstitious obedience and blind love” that all Indians hold for
anyone who claims to descend from the Incas; tensions between cre-
oles and Spaniards; “the excessive hold that the Church had on those
dupes [incautos]”; and abuses by priests as well as corregidors. The writer
called for a number of reforms that echoed those of Areche and Mata
Linares.59 The letter showed that the radical cultural reforms proposed
by Areche and Mata Linares in the early 1780s had floundered and were
not in place in 1805.
The late 1782 and early 1783 repression of the Kataristas in Upper
Peru, who remained armed and defiant, had been brutal, with thou-
sands dead. Yet in Cuzco commanders had not embarked on any kind
of mass slaughter, in part because the fighting there had largely
stopped. To torpedo the amnesty, they had uncovered looming con-
spiracies rather than true uprisings. In the trials Cuzco authorities tar-
geted the entire Tupac Amaru family, executing or expatriating them.
They had also unleashed an unremitting campaign against the Que-
chua language and the memory of the Incas. On this front, they failed.
But one other group remained, besides the rebel leadership and the
mass supporters: the middling creoles, mestizos, and even Spaniards
who had reportedly aided the rebellion. Authorities prosecuted them
with passion and patience. Some of the trials lingered for more than a
decade.
Supporters
The question of how Tupac Amaru did it, how a small-town kuraka and
his wife masterminded an uprising that spread throughout Peru, bedev-
iled the Spanish. The prospect of traitors in their midst particularly wor-
ried them. After the initial wave of rushed prosecutions in 1783 that led
to the grisly executions in Cuzco and mass deportations to Spain, Mata
Linares scrutinized alleged creole supporters of the rebellions. On the
one hand, this reflected the royalists’ belief that Indians were incapable
of organizing such a mass movement. Authorities such as Mata Linares
could not conceive of indigenous people, including kurakas such as Tu-
pac Amaru and his wife, planning, recruiting, and unifying—they as-
sumed there had to be other masterminds. On the other hand, the trials
against creoles evolved from the tensions in 1782 when hard-liners and
moderates fought over who was at fault for the rebel expansion. Now
firmly in power, the revenge-seeking hard-liners persecuted those who
had lobbied for more conciliatory tactics, which they interpreted as an
indication of rebel sympathies.
dragged on from 1783 to 1786, with the Ugarte brothers the recipients
of venomous anticreole insults. The evidence was minimal, other than
the letter that they never received, and the prosecution appeared to
persecute them simply for being prestigious creoles who had ties to the
rebels (they admitted meeting Tupac Amaru before the rebellion), great
prestige among a broad section of Cuzco society, and a distaste for some
of the reforms imposed by Areche, Escobedo, and company. Although
they were not found guilty, the court banished them to Spain. The
trial’s cost and the departure of the three brothers broke the family
econom ical ly.68
Bishop Moscoso already had enemies when he arrived in Cuzco in
1779 to become bishop. Prominent Spaniards had disliked the decision
to name a creole rather than a European to the prestigious position. His
confl ict with corregidor Arriaga in early 1780, just months before Ar-
riaga’s hanging would launch the rebellion, earned him more adversar-
ies. Arriaga’s nephew, Eusebio Balza y Verganza, presented a book-
length accusation against the Bishop in 1782, La verdad desnuda or The
Naked Truth, alleging that the bishop supported the Tupac Amaru rebels
and led a dissolute private life, specifically alleging a taste for young
women and nuns. As this book has shown, Moscoso was an implacable
and effective opponent of the rebels. They could not overcome his
strategy of maintaining priests in rebel-controlled areas and excommu-
nicating the leadership, which neutralized the insurgents’ claims of
working within the system and their expectation of support from
Madrid and even God. Nonetheless, his support for the pardon and
his proximity to Diego Cristóbal earned him the wrath of Areche
and, even more so, Mata Linares.69 In 1783, echoing the accusations of
La verdad desnuda, Mata Linares initiated a trial in Lima’s high court,
to evaluate whether the bishop “had any influence in the recent
commotion.”70
Bishop Moscoso fought the charges for almost a decade. In 1784, he
left Cuzco to plead his case in Lima and two years later he departed for
Spain to lobby in Madrid. This Arequipeño would never return to Peru.
His case was aided by the death of Charles III on December 14, 1788,
and his replacement by King Charles IV, who sought to terminate the
countless lingering trials that bloated Spain’s legal and political sys-
tems. The retirement of José de Gálvez from the Council of the Indies also
apparently helped him.71 In March 1789 Moscoso presented a 248-page
The royalists in charge of Cuzco after the rebellion did not prosecute
the thousands of Indians suspected of rebel sympathies, but instead initi-
ated a wide-ranging campaign against Andean culture and the collec-
tive memory of the Incas. They understood that mass trials would
prove complicated, costly, and very likely counterproductive. They also
believed that Indians were “machines” in the words of Mata Linares,
mere followers with no initiative of their own. So instead of prosecu-
tion, officials sought to extirpate the memory of the Incas and to force
Indians to abandon the Quechua language, a cornerstone of their in-
digenous culture.
The campaign built on brisk reformist winds from Spain, particu-
larly efforts to control the Catholic Church and to homogenize religious
practices. It also reflected the impression that authorities’ vitriolic ti-
rades about the sorry state of the Andes had made in Madrid. In search-
ing for a cause for the uprising, Areche, Mata Linares and even Bishop
Moscoso blamed Indians for being insufficiently European (or too In-
dian), ultimately blaming wayward authorities, especially creoles and
priests, for allowing Peru’s indigenous people to remain autonomous.
Although the visitador and the judge on the one side and the bishop
on the other clashed during the uprising, and Moscoso faced a decade-
long legal struggle over his alleged support for the rebels, they agreed
that Indians were too attached to the Incas and too detached from the
Spanish. They rued the persistence of Inca dress, songs, and dramas as
well as the predominance of Quechua, taking priests to task for their
failure to convert and assimilate. In their correspondence as well as
reports to Lima and Madrid, these authorities underlined the sorry
state of Spanish rule in the Andes. Moscoso called Cuzco “a Babylon.”1
Mata Linares ranted incessantly about Cuzco and its inhabitants. He
considered the Andes “rough and disagreeable” and claimed that peo-
ple in Cuzco were either “traitors or cowards.”2 These complaints about
Indians’ stubborn hold on the past and refusal to learn Spanish devel-
oped, improbably, into a broad-reaching policy. The paper war between
hard-liners and moderates not only shaped royalist tactics during the
war but also molded programs and policies after the massive rebellion.
The postrebellion assimilationist campaign or cultural genocide
failed. Reforms could not eradicate Quechua or Andean culture, nor
could they assimilate the Andean masses into the Spanish-Catholic world.
Nonetheless, Areche’s measures changed relations between Spain and
the Andes. The draconian measures terminated the two-republics sys-
tem imposed by Viceroy Toledo in the 1570s. This system granted Indi-
ans a degree of cultural, political, and economic autonomy in return
for their designation as separate and inferior subjects and the obligation
of heavy head and labor taxes. Under the Toledan system Indians were
allowed to speak Quechua, remember the Incas, maintain ethnic
kurakas, control communal land, and enjoy other rights as long as they
paid the head tax, worked in the mines under the dreadful mita, and
pledged obedience to the king and the Church. Dating from the middle
of the eighteenth century, the Bourbon Reforms had chipped away at
this “colonial pact,” replacing indigenous authorities with Europeans
and raising taxes and labor demands. These changes prompted the ire
of Indians as well as mestizos, Europeans, and the multiracial castas,
fostering the riots, revolts, and smaller uprisings that preceded Tupac
Amaru. Nonetheless, the administrative reforms prior to 1780 had only
destabilized the deep structures of Indian-colonial state relations. The
rebellion and its aftermath smashed them.
Even as the former system, the two republics, disintegrated under the
pressure of the post–Tupac Amaru repression and policy changes, no
clear replacement or alternative emerged. In other words, the reforms
from trees as macabre warnings; estate and textile mill owners as well
as unpopular officials soon returned. At best, Indian supporters saw
the rebellion as a tragic near miss. Mestizos and others caught in the
middle recalled the threat of violence from both the rebels and the roy-
alists and the high toll the uprising took on the regional economy and
daily life.
Officials often grumbled that the prospect of more violence or even
the return of some member of the Tupac Amaru family had not disap-
peared. For example, in July 1783 Cuzco’s corregidor, Matías Baulen,
wrote, “The embers remain from the recent fi re and it’s not impossible
that they heat up again, even among those people who seem to have
the best temperament. This riffraff [chusma] works on fi rst impres-
sions.”9 For some people, such as Baulen, the lingering impression that
another uprising was possible, perhaps just around the corner, indi-
cated that repression had not gone far enough; for others, the Spanish
hard-liners had been excessive, imperiling Spanish control of the An-
des. Yet these were rumors or private musings. Repression managed to
silence public discussion and expressions of nostalgia or veneration for
Tupac Amaru for decades. This would change. Despite the effort to
construct “official silence,” the voices of Tupac Amaru’s supporters rose
to praise him, to construct an alternative path from his memory.10
What did Tupac Amaru mean for broader political alignments in
Peru? In a landmark publication in 1972 that burst the bubble of the
flag-waving 150th anniversary celebrations of Peruvian independence
(independence was declared in 1821 but the Spanish were not defeated
until 1824), Heraclio Bonilla and Karen Spalding underlined that Tu-
pac Amaru had intimidated creoles and other non-Indians and dis-
couraged them from supporting Andean-based uprisings. These histo-
rians suggested that the events of the 1780s widened the coast-Andes
breach and gave Lima-based creoles, already much more conservative
than their brethren in “peripheral areas” such as Buenos Aires or Cara-
cas, more reason to vacillate over the struggle against the Spanish that
erupted in the early 1800s.11 The irony stands out— Bonilla and Spald-
ing argued that a mass uprising that was at that time, the 1970s, being
portrayed as the precursor of Peruvian independence had actually
weakened or delayed the rupture with Spain. Decades of subsequent
research on the lower classes and politics in the independence period
have amended or fi ne-tuned this uncompromising interpretation,
highlighting the role that the lower classes played in regional move-
ments and stressing different types of popular politics. Nonetheless, the
gap between coastal independence movements and Andean people
was im mense, fortified by the coastal elite’s terror of marauding Indian
guerrillas.12
The rebellion demonstrated the high cost of an uprising to creoles
and mestizos: insubordination and violence by the lower orders, on the
one hand, and brutal repression by authorities, on the other. It alarmed
the nonindigenous population and increased the already considerable
rift between the coast and the highlands. The uprising culminated in
the annihilation of the Tupac Amaru clan, other kurakas, and tens of
thousands of Indians. The repression thus exterminated or at least in-
timidated future rebel leaders and followers, dampening the prospect of
future Cuzco-based insurgencies.13 However, the violence also ruptured
the historic pact between Indians and the colonial state and proved to
thousands of survivors that the Spanish should not be tolerated. In-
canism did not perish, and during the wars of independence and be-
yond intellectuals and others expressed an appreciation for the Inca
Empire and timidly proposed it as a possible national symbol.14 The Tu-
pac Amaru rebellion both delayed and hastened independence from
Spain: it widened the Andean-coastal gap and underscored to the upper
classes and others the high cost of insurgency, but also ruptured the
Toledan system that had been the bedrock of colonial rule for 200 years.
Tupac Amaru and his movement did not become heroes, models,
icons, or points of reference for the leaders of the wars of independence
in Peru from 1808 to 1824. Tupac’s name surfaced from time to time,
as both a hero and a villain, but not, until many years later, as a con-
stant refrain. In 1814, the creole intellectual José Baquíjano y Carrillo
wrote, “Indians are tenacious in preserving resentment . . . they la-
ment the atrocious execution of Diego Tupac Amaru in 1780 [sic], after
he had handed over his weapons, accepted the pardon, sworn to it in-
side a Church.”15 Yet the rebels in Peru in 1814, based in Cuzco and led
by, among others, Tupac Amaru’s nemesis Pumacahua, did not fight in
José Gabriel or Micaela’s name.16 Tupac Amaru became a national
symbol— but only decades or even centuries later. We can assume Tu-
pac Amaru and Micaela remained larger-than-life heroes to vast num-
bers of indigenous people in Cuzco and beyond. But we will probably
never know for certain. If indigenous voices are normally rare in the
the Incas” and “Sons of the Sun.” The invocation of Tupac Amaru and
Peru made sense. Just two decades earlier, the overwhelmingly indig-
enous rebel army had nearly dislodged Spain from its South American
hub, inventing a new revolutionary framework. Events in the Carib-
bean were equally shocking and momentous. Haitian slaves were in
the midst of toppling French colonialism and Atlantic slavery, on an
island at the center of the sugar economy.22 Around 1810, gaucho rebels
fighting the Spanish in the area north of Buenos Aires, in present-day
Uruguay, assumed the name Tupamaros.23 And the prospect of a Tupac
Amaru leading another uprising outside of Peru concerned authorities
for decades. In 1790, a Madrid court official requested that the gover-
nors of Guyana and Venezuela investigate whether two nephews of
Tupac Amaru had sneaked into the Dutch territory of Surinam. The
official asked them to fi nd out if the two men were hiding among the
fugitive population “and whether they had contact with Indians, and
whether these natives look at the nephews with consideration.” They
were not found.24 For decades, perhaps even centuries, authorities in
Cuzco, Lima, and beyond worried about the resurgence of Tupac Amaru
or his followers.
Written almost fi fty years ago, the poem contrasts the well-known mili-
tary heroes of the wars of independence, all of European descent, lauded
and pictured in museums and textbooks, with the overlooked (or “less
lucky”) martyr of Pampamarca.
Abbreviations
Introduction
3. The two main accounts vary in their details. Melchor de Paz publishes an
account that says that Arriaga grabbed a gun, while López de Sosa states
that he tried to escape in a ravine. Melchor de Paz, Guerra separatista: Rebe-
liones de Indios en Sur América, la sublevación de Tupac Amaru: Crónica de
Melchor de Paz, ed. Luis Antonio Eguiguren, 2 vols. (Lima: n.p., 1952),
1:231–236; López de Sosa’s testimony appears in AGI, Cuzco, Leg. 80.
4. Eulogio Zudaire, Don Agustín de Jáuregui (II) virrey interino del Perú (Pam-
plona, Spain: Diputación Foral de Navarra, Institución Príncipe de Viana,
1979), 51.
5. Ward Stavig and Ella Schmidt, eds., The Tupac Amaru and Catarista Rebel-
lions: An Anthology of Sources (Indianapolis, Ind.: Hackett Publishing, 2008),
62– 63.
6. For López de Sosa’s explanation of why he gave him confession, see CD-
BRETA, I, 108–109 (Lima: CNDBRETA, 1980).
7. See AGI, Cuzco, Leg. 31; another copy of this source is found in AGI, Cuzco,
Leg. 80.
8. Lillian E. Fisher summarizes the few descriptions of his attire. L. E. Fisher,
The Last Inca Revolt, 1780–1783 (Norman: University of Oklahoma Press,
1966), 30–31.
9. AGI, Cuzco, Leg. 80, testimony by doña Ignacia Sotomayor.
10. CDBRETA, I, 508, document from don Miguel Martínez, priest and vicar
of Nuñoa and Santa Rosa.
11. AGI, Cuzco, Leg. 80, testimony by doña Ignacia Sotomayor.
12. Zudaire, Don Agustín, 53.
13. AGI, Cuzco, Leg. 80, testimony by Antonio López de Sosa. The translation
of this rare Quechua phrase in the archival documentation was an inter-
national enterprise. In Seville, Luis Miguel Glave double-checked my
transcription, and Janett Vengoa, Rosalia Puma Escalante, and Zoila Men-
doza offered their Quechua skills.
14. “Informe de un clérigo sobre Tupac Amaru,” 1781, Lilly Library, Indiana
University. An almost identical quote can be found in Melchor de Paz,
Guerra separatista, 1:259–260.
15. Divisions in the church included those between regulars (the mendicant
orders such as the Dominicans and Franciscans) and seculars as well as
those between the episcopal bureaucracy and the parish priests.
16. Lillian Fisher wrote the competent The Last Inca Revolt in 1966; I prefer the
English geographer Clements Markham’s vivid overviews from the 1850s
and 1860s. The Polish-Argentine Boleslao Lewin published several deeply
researched works in Spanish in the 1950s that have stood the test of time
well. A Jewish refugee from Hitler’s Europe, Lewin makes implicit parallels
between antifascist resistance in Europe and the mass indigenous uprising
in the late eighteenth century. Yet his La rebelión de Tupac Amaru is now fi fty
years old, more than six hundred pages long, and out of print. When people
1. See José Antonio del Busto Duthurburu, José Gabriel Túpac Amaru antes de su
rebelión (Lima: PUC, 1981), 34; John Rowe, “El movimiento nacional inca del
siglo XVIII,” in Tupac Amaru II-1780, ed. Alberto Flores Galindo (Lima: Re-
tablo de Papel, 1976), 13– 66, esp. 27–30 (pointing out that it was Garcilaso
25. AGI, Lima, Leg. 1049. This contains the trial against Montiel and rich in-
formation on Tupac Amaru’s ties in Lima.
26. The literature is vast. See Harold Livermore’s introduction to Garcilaso de
la Vega, Royal Commentaries of the Incas and General History of Peru (Austin:
University of Texas Press, 1966), xv–xxxi; José Durand, “El influjo de Gar-
cilaso Inca en Tupac Amaru,” COPE 2, no. 5 (1971): 2–7, an argument he
developed in many other publications.
27. John Rowe, “El movimiento nacional Inca en el siglo XVIII,” in Tupac
Amaru II, 11– 66.
28. Cited in Kenneth Mills, William B. Taylor, and Sandra Lauderdale Gra-
ham, Colonial Latin America: A Documentary History (Wilmington, Del.: SR
Books, 2002), 394, which examines an eighteenth-century portrait of the
Inca martyr. The authors provide an excellent summary of the memory of
Tupac Amaru I, 390–394. On prophecies about the return of the Incas
propagated by Sir Walter Raleigh and cited in certain editions of the Royal
Commentaries, see Rowe, “El movimiento nacional,” 25–32. See also David
Brading, “Inca Humanist,” The First America: The Spanish Monarchy, Creole
Patriots, and the Liberal State, 1492–1867 (Cambridge: Cambridge University
Press, 1991), 255–272.
29. AGI, Cuzco, Leg. 77. A Cuzco authority called the Royal Commentaries the
backbone of “the rebel Josef Tupac Amaru’s entire education and reading.”
AGI, Cuzco, Leg. 29, Moscoso to Areche, 13 April 1781.
30. AGI, Lima, Leg. 1042.
31. Quoted in Del Busto Duthurburu, José Gabriel Túpac Amaru, 95. See also AGI,
Lima, Leg. 1044, about people suspected of having been hosts of Tupac
Amaru in the City of Kings. AGI, Cuzco, Leg. 32, also has information.
32. AGI, Cuzco, Leg. 80, testimony by López y Sosa.
33. AGI, Cuzco, Leg. 32; this is repeated by Mariano de la Banda, CDBRETA,
V, 157.
34. Del Busto Duthurburu, José Gabriel Túpac Amaru, 109–115. His December
petition to Viceroy Guerior is found in Stavig and Schmidt, The Tupac
Amaru and Catarista Rebellions, 20–24. The testimonies found in AGI, Cuzco,
Leg. 32, have many references to Huarochirí.
35. Fisher, Bourbon Peru 1750–1824, 162.
36. Ibid., 162–163; see also O’Phelan Godoy, Un siglo, chap. 4.
37. AGI, Lima, Leg. 1044. On 1777 see Flores Galindo, In Search of an Inca,
102–103.
38. AGI, Lima, Leg. 1044.
39. On Santa Rosa, the prophecies, and much more see Ramón Mujica Pini-
lla, Rosa limensis: Mística, política e iconografía en torno a la patrona de América
(Lima: IFEA, Fondo de Culture Económica, Banco Central de la Reserva,
2001).
40. AGI, Lima, Leg. 1044.
41. Ibid.
42. ADC, Colección Vega Centeno, bolsa 3, “Expediente relativo a las repre-
sentaciones hechas en el año de 1779 a Don Ildefonso Mendieta Justicia
Mayor de Tinta quejándose del Rebelde José Gabriel Tupac Amaro.”
43. Ibid. Here Mata Linares noted the need to “suffocate [dissidence] in the
root.” He put into place severe repressive measures aimed at preventing
any further uprisings. See also David Cahill, “Genocide from Below: The
Great Rebellion of 1780– 82 in the Southern Andes,” in Empire, Colony,
Genocide: Conquest, Occupation, and Subaltern Resistance in World History, ed. A.
Dirk Moses (New York: Berghahn Books, 2008), 403– 423, esp. 411–12.
44. Charles F. Walker, Smoldering Ashes: Cuzco and the Creation of Republican Peru,
1780–1835 (Durham, N.C.: Duke University Press, 1999), 29–30.
45. Lewin, La rebelión de Túpac Amaru, 158.
46. David Cahill, “Taxonomy of a Colonial Riot: The Arequipa Disturbances of
1780,” in Reform and Insurrection in Bourbon New Granada and Peru, ed. John
R. Fisher, Allan J. Kuethe, and Anthony McFarlane (Baton Rouge: Louisi-
ana State University Press, 1991), 255–291.
47. AGI, Lima, Leg. 1039, letter from April 20, 1780.
48. O’Phelan Godoy, Un siglo, 214.
49. Cahill, “Crown, Clergy, and Revolution,” 223; his summary of the Farfán
de los Godos Conspiracy (also called the Plateros) is found at 216–224. See
also Walker, Smoldering Ashes, 30–33.
50. Charles Walker, “Prólogo,” in Juan Manuel Moscoso y Peralta, Inocencia jus-
tificada contra los artificios de la calumnia (Lima: Biblioteca Nacional, in press).
51. On Moscoso, see Gustavo Bacacorzo, Don Juan Manuel de Moscoso y Peralta,
ubicación en el proceso de la independencia Americana (Lima: UNMSM, 1982);
Leon J. Campbell, “Rebel or Royalist? Bishop Juan Manuel Moscoso y Per-
alta and the Tupac Amaru Revolt in Peru, 1780–1784,” Revista de Historia de
América 86 (1978): 139; Luis Durand Florez, “El caso Moscoso,” Actas del
Coloquio Internacional ‘Túpac Amaru y su tiempo’ (Lima: CNDBRETA, 1982),
491– 493; Walker, “Prólogo.”
52. Cited by Durand Florez, “El Caso Moscoso,” 495. For the accusations
against Moscoso, see Francisco Loayza, ed., La verdad desnuda o las dos faces
de un obispo: Escrita en 1780 por un imparcial religioso (Lima: Los pequeños
grandes libros de Historia Americana, 1943). Moscoso published his own
defense in Inocencia justifacada.
53. Loayza, La verdad desnuda, 240–246.
54. The best summary of the confrontation is Luis Miguel Glave, “Canas 1780: El
año de la rebelión,” in Desde afuera y desde adentro: ensayos de etnografía e historia
del Cuzco y Apurímac, ed. Luis Millones, Hiroyasu Tomoeda, and Tatsuhiko Fu-
jii (Osaka: National Museum of Ethnology, 2000), 61–93; the quote is from 79.
55. AGI, Leg. 80. For Arriaga’s accusation, see ADC, Colección Vega Centeno,
bolsa 3 (Coporaque October 1780, inventory of Father Puente’s goods). See
also Luis Miguel Glave, Vida, símbolos y batallas: Creación y recreación de la co-
1. AGI, Lima, Leg. 1041, testimony of Father Ildefonso Bejarano, January 1781.
2. Cited in Boleslao Lewin, La rebelión de Túpac Amaru, 3d ed. (Buenos Aires:
SELA, 1967), 545.
3. The lack of evidence does not mean that the women camp aides (called
soldaderas in other instances) did not exist. It probably reflects blindness to
women’s role and all domestic ser vice, even in the midst of a bloody
rebellion.
4. AGI, Lima, Leg. 1041, testimony of Father Ildefonso Bejarano, January
1781. On weapons, see Juan José Vega, Historia general del ejército, El ejército
durante la dominación española del Perú, tomo III, vol. 1 (Lima: Comisión
Permanente de Historia del Ejército del Perú, 1981), 499–507.
5. AGI, Charcas, Leg. 596, refers to the cross as obligatory; for the cross and
embroidery, see CDBRETA, V, III, 89– 90, testimony of José Coyo and Pas-
cual Sirena.
6. CDBRETA, IV, II, 15, testimony of Micaela Bastidas, December 13, 1780.
See also CDBRETA, IV, II, 39, December 15, 1780, where she again refers
to the cross.
7. AGI, Charcas, Leg. 596, testimony of don Thadeo Fisona. They also fre-
quently carried red flags. See Vega, Historia general, 481– 483.
8. Juan José Vega, José Gabriel Túpac Amaru (Lima: Editorial Universal, 1969),
48–55; see also Jorge Cornejo Bouroncle, Tupac Amaru, la revolución precur-
sora de la emancipación continental (Cuzco: Universidad Nacional del Cuzco,
1949), 156; J. R. Gutiérrez, ed., Documentos para la historia antigua de Bolivia
sacados de la biblioteca de J. R. Gutiérrez: sitios de Paz y el Cuzco 1780–1781 (La
Paz: Imprenta de la Unión Americana, 1879), 122.
9. Bishop Moscoso mentions this salary. He calculated that Tupac Amaru
counted on ten thousand Indian combatants and six hundred mestizos.
CDIP, II, 2, 277, Moscoso, November 17, 1780.
10. CDBRETA, III, I, 84– 85, testimony by Montecinos.
11. Víctor Angles Vargas, José Gabriel Túpac Amaru (Cuzco: n.p., 2004), 83– 84;
Melchor de Paz, Guerra separatista: Rebeliones de Indios en Sur América, la sub-
levación de Tupac Amaru: Crónica de Melchor de Paz, ed. Luis Antonio Eguiguren,
2 vols. (Lima: n.p, 1952), 1: 247–248, “Carta del Coronel de las Milicia de
Azángaro,” mentions Cabrera’s narrow escape. On the region’s obrajes, the
key work is Neus Escandell-Tur, Producción y comercio de tejidos coloniales: Los
obrajes y chorrillos del Cuzco 1570–1820 (Cuzco: CBC, 1997).
12. AGI, Lima, Leg. 1041, letter from don Joseph Albares y Nava, n.d.
13. This is reminiscent of the 1536–1537 siege of Cuzco, when the Incas mis-
understood the importance of writing and allowed Spanish messages to
reach Lima. See John Hemming, The Conquest of the Incas (New York: Har-
court Brace Jovanovich, 1970), 215–216.
14. AGI, Lima, Leg. 1041, letter from don Joseph Albares y Nava, n.d.
15. CDBRETA, V, III, 126, testimony of José Esteban Escarcena. For another
example in which Tupac Amaru called for the abolition of all taxes and
exactions other than the head tax, see his January 17, 1781, decree in CD-
BRETA, III, 1, 110, from Tinta.
16. CDBRETA, V, III, 126, testimony of Escarcena.
17. From Escarcena’s testimony, CDBRETA, V, III, 126–127; also in Lewin, La
rebelión de Túpac Amaru, 445.
18. CDIP, II, 2, 258–259, letter from Tupac Amaru, November 12, 1780.
19. CDBRETA, V, III, 140–141, testimony of Escarcena.
20. This might have been an echo of Garcilaso de la Vega, who stressed the
Inca’s fi rm treatment of offenders. Garcilaso de la Vega, Royal Commentaries
of the Incas and General History of Peru (Austin: University of Texas Press,
1966), 96– 99.
21. CDBRETA, V, III, 140–141, testimony of Escarcena.
22. AGI, Charcas, Leg. 537, letter from Miguel Martínez, Santa Rosa, Novem-
ber 14, 1780. See also CDBRETA, V, III, 123–124, testimony of Escarcena,
who before reaching Tungasuca had heard that Tupac Amaru had received
a “royal decree” from Madrid allowing him to kill abusive corregidors and
carry out radical reforms.
23. CDIP, II, 3, 149–154, letter from Diego Cristóbal Tupac Amaru to Bishop
Moscoso, November 5, 1781, quote from 151.
24. AGI, Lima, Leg. 1042, testimony of Friar Juan de Rios Pacheco, Mercedar-
ian. He claimed that Tupac Amaru wrote on pieces of canvas to sneak mes-
sages into Cuzco.
25. CDIP, II, 2, 270–271, letter of November 15, 1780.
26. CDIP, II, 2, 272–273, document from Diego Chuguihuanca [sic], November
16, 1780.
27. Ward Stavig and Ella Schmidt, eds., The Tupac Amaru and Catarista Rebel-
lions: An Anthology of Sources (Indianapolis, Ind.: Hackett Publishing, 2008),
69–70; original document in CDIP, II, 2, 274.
28. CDIP, II, 2, 271, letter from Tupac Amaru, and 274, “Edicto,” November
15, 1780.
29. Gutiérrez, “Relación histórica del principio, progresos y estado de la suble-
vación de José Gabriel Tupac-Amaru. En cuatro décadas,” in Documentos
61. CDBRETA, III, 1, 259–261; several other testimonies confi rm this. For ex-
ample, CDBRETA, III, 1, 261–262, court testimony by Isidro Toera and
Domingo Pérez León.
62. On Inca revivalism, messianism, and millenarianism, see, among many,
Flores Galindo, In Search of an Inca; Jorge Hidalgo Lehuede, “Amarus y ca-
taris: Aspectos mesiánicos de la rebelión indígena de 1781 en Cuzco, Chay-
anta, La Paz y Arica,” Chungará 10 (1983): 117–138; Jan Szeminski, La
utopía tupamarista (Lima: PUC, 1983).
63. CDBRETA, III, I, 4–5.
64. In Stavig and Schmidt, The Tupac Amaru and Catarista Rebellions, 84– 89,
dated January 9, 1781; also in CDIP, II, 2, 395– 401. Tupac Amaru owed de
la Madrid money from his 1777 trip to Lima. See testimony of Juan Anto-
nio Figueroa, April 27, 1781 (who also mentions Micaela Bastidas’s reli-
ance on Quechua). CDBRETA, IV, II, 53–54; also Eulogio Zudaire, Don
Agustín de Jáuregui (II) virrey interino del Perú (Pamplona, Spain: Diputación
Foral de Navarra, Institución Príncipe de Viana, 1979), 77–78.
65. In Stavig and Schmidt, The Tupac Amaru and Catarista Rebellions, 85.
66. Ibid., 88. I have altered the translation slightly.
67. CDBRETA, III, I, 284, letter from Tupac Amaru to Micaela Bastidas, No-
vember 26, 1780.
68. CDBRETA, V, III, 137–138, testimony of Escarcena.
69. For example see the testimony by Bernardo de la Madrid, who mentions
translators when discussing with her as she spoke the “Indian language.”
CDBRETA, IV, 2, 51, April 27, 1781.
70. Juan José Vega, Túpac Amaru y sus compañeros (Cuzco: Municipalidad del
Qosqo, 1995), 1:78; see also O’Phelan Godoy, Un siglo, 229.
71. CDBRETA, V, III, 147, testimony of Escarcena, January 19, 1781.
72. AGI, Lima, Leg. 80, trial of Father Ildefonso Bejarano.
73. CDBRETA, IV, II, 324.
74. See CDBRETA, V, III, 151, Banda’s testimony; also mentioned by Francisco
Molina, CDBRETA, III, 1, 10. Banda mentions that Palacios encouraged
Micaela to go fi rst to Lampa, to confront the Arequipa forces, and to then
return to Cuzco, where taking the city would be “easy,” 153. This is an early
use of the term gamonal, which in the nineteenth century became a syn-
onym of omnipotent landowners who exploited the Andean peasantry.
75. CDBRETA, V, III, 315–320. I have not seen more on these attempts.
76. CDBRETA, V, III, 374, testimony by Galleguillos, n.d.
77. O’Phelan Godoy, Un siglo, 243–257.
78. In their classic works on eighteenth-century social movements, both Flores
Galindo and O’Phelan Godoy provide numerous examples. Flores Galindo,
In Search of an Inca; O’Phelan Godoy, Un siglo.
79. David Garrett, Shadows of Empire: The Indian Nobility of Cuzco, 1750–1825
(Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2005).
80. Cited by Luis Durand Florez, Introduction, CDBRETA, IV, II, XII.
1. Eulogio Zudaire, Don Agustín de Jáuregui (II) Virrey Interino del Perú (Pam-
plona, Spain: Diputación Foral de Navarra, Institución Príncipe de Viana,
1979), 126. Parts of this chapter were included in Charles Walker, “ ‘When
Fear Rather than Reason Dominates’: Priests Behind the Lines in the Tu-
pac Amaru Rebellion (1780–1783),” in Facing Fear: The History of an Emotion
in Global Perspective, ed. Michael Laffan and Max Weiss (Princeton, N.J.:
Princeton University Press, 2012), 54–73.
2. David Cahill, “Crown, Clergy, and Revolution in Bourbon Peru: The Di-
ocese of Cuzco, 1780–1814” (PhD diss., University of Liverpool, 1984),
42– 46.
3. For a recent overview, see Gauvin Alexander Bailey, The Andean Hybrid
Baroque: Convergent Cultures in the Churches of Colonial Peru (Notre Dame,
Ind.: University of Notre Dame Press, 2010). For a wonderful set of essays,
see Ramón Mujica Pinilla, ed., El Barroco Peruano, 2 vols. (Lima: Banco de
Crédito, 2002–2003).
4. For a sample of the fees, see Ward Stavig and Ella Schmidt, eds., The Tupac
Amaru and Catarista Rebellions: An Anthology of Sources (Indianapolis, Ind.:
Hackett Publishing, 2008), 15–16. On the church and economy, see Kath-
ryn Burns, Colonial Habits: Convents and the Spiritual Economy of Cuzco Peru
(Durham, N.C.: Duke University Press, 1999).
5. Nicolas A. Robins, Priests-Indian Conflicts in Upper Peru: The Generation of
Rebellion, 1750–1780 (Syracuse, N.Y.: Syracuse University Press, 2007);
Ward Stavig, The World of Tupac Amaru: Conflict, Community, and Identity in
Colonial Peru (Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 1999). The archives
are loaded with relevant documents; see Tupac Amaru y la Iglesia for some
rich examples.
6. Scarlett O’Phelan Godoy, “‘Ascender el estado ecclesiástico’: la ordenación
de indios en Lima a mediados del siglo XVIII,” in Incas e indios cristianos:
Elites indígenas e identidades cristanas en los andes coloniales, ed. Jean-Jacques
Decoster (Cuzco: CBC-IFEA, 2002), 311–329; Charles F. Walker, Shaky Co-
lonialism: The 1746 Earthquake-Tsunami in Lima, Peru and Its Long Aftermath
(Durham, N.C.: Duke University Press, 2008), 156–185.
7. Stavig and Schmidt, The Tupac Amaru and Catarista Rebellions, 74–75; origi-
nal in CDIP, II, 2, 275. My translation incorporates a few words excluded
by Stavig and Schmidt.
8. Summarized in Carlos Daniel Valcárcel, Túpac Amaru, el revolucionario (Lima:
Moncloa-Campodónico, 1970), 157, where the quote is found; Cahill deems
the junta “fissiparous” and convincingly shows that the bishop took over.
Cahill, “Crown, Clergy, and Revolution,” 254–256.
9. Boleslao Lewin argued vehemently in the 1950s and 1960s about the essen-
tial role of the Church, particularly Bishop Moscoso, in the defeat of the re-
bellion. See Boleslao Lewin, La rebelión de Túpac Amaru, 3rd ed. (Buenos Ai-
res: SELA, 1967), 248, for a summary of his views. Peruvian authors such as
Carlos Daniel Valcárcel and Jorge Cornejo Bouroncle were more circum-
spect about Moscoso. Cahill, “Crown, Clergy, and Revolution,” chapter 5,
smartly discounts the interpretation of Moscoso as a rebel supporter.
10. AGI, Lima, Leg. 1041, letter from the town of Yauri, December 2, 1780.
11. Testificación del R. P. M. Fr. Pedro de la Sota, Provincial en el Real Con-
vento de la Merced del Cuzco, in Juan Manuel Moscoso y Peralta, Inocencia
justificada contra los artificios de la calumnia (Lima: Biblioteca Nacional, in
press), 98–105, esp. 99. See also Rolena Adorno, “Images of Indian Ladi-
nos,” in Transatlantic Encounters: Europeans and Andeans in the Sixteenth Cen-
tury, ed. Kenneth Andrien and Rolena Adorno (Berkeley: University of
California Press, 1992), 232–270.
12. CDIP, II, 2, 716, testimony of Micaela Bastidas, April 22, 1781.
13. Quoted in Cahill, “Crown, Clergy, and Revolution,” 203, who provides
much evidence about his religiosity and even traditionalist views. For ex-
amples of how the rebels were not opposed to the Church, see AGI, Lima,
Leg. 1041; CDBRETA, III, 16–17.
14. Melchor de Paz, Guerra separatista: Rebeliones de Indios en Sur América, la sub-
levación de Tupac Amaru: Crónica de Melchor de Paz, ed. Luis Antonio Eguig-
uren, 2 vols. (Lima: n.p, 1952), 1:292. Letter from January 10, 1781.
15. CDIP, II, 3, 352–353, edicto of December 13, 1780, Tungasuca. Also in CD-
BRETA, IV, II, 14–15.
16. AGI, Lima, Leg. 1030. See also AGI, Lima, Leg. 1041, about Acomayo,
Rondocan, and Pirque.
17. AGI, Cuzco, Leg. 80, testimony of don Domingo de Escalante. It was to his
advantage to claim that he did not know about the excommunication, and
prosecutors seemed to believe him.
18. CDBRETA, III, I, 17–18, summarizes key points of Juan Esteben Escarce-
na’s testimony.
19. CDBRETA, III, 1, 111.
20. CDBRETA, III, 1, 19.
21. Cited in Emilio Garzón Heredia, “1780: Clero, elite local y rebelión,” in Entre
la retórica y la insurgencia: Las ideas y los movimientos sociales en los Andes, siglo
XVIII, ed. Charles Walker (Cuzco: CBC, 1996), 245–271, quote from 249.
22. Garzón Heredia, “1780,” 250. Cited in AGI, Cuzco, Leg. 66.
23. “Informe Relacionado del Cabildo del Cuzco,” (1784), in CDIP, II, 1, 97–
148, quote from 114–115. I fi rst consulted this in the Mata Linares Collec-
tion, Academia de Historia, Madrid.
24. AGI, Lima, Leg. 1041, anonymous letter to Don Joseph Domingo de Frías,
secretario Señor Don Francisco Xavier Delgado, December 10, 1780.
25. Several of the testimonies collected in the wake of the rebellion support-
ing Moscoso stressed how his decree had prompted desertions among the
enemy. For example, see the testimony of Manuel de Mendieta, Dean of
the Cathedral, in Moscoso y Peralta, Inocencia justificada, 89– 90.
26. Key here are Robins, Priests-Indian Conflicts in Upper Peru, and Stavig, The
World of Tupac Amaru.
27. CDBRETA, III, I, 38–39, anonymous letter to Tupac Amaru, Calca, De-
cember 16, 1780.
28. Melchor de Paz, Guerra separatista, 1:280. Pumacahua was chastised for
these actions but not punished. This account highlights the impact of the
excommunication.
29. Moscoso y Peralta, Inocencia justificada, 99, testimony by Friar Pedro de la
Sota.
30. AGI, Lima, Leg. 1041, letter from Bishop Moscoso to Viceroy Jáuregui,
December 21, 1780.
31. Ibid. On November 14, 1780, the junta in Cuzco wrote to the bishop to re-
quest that he maintain priests in Tinta and Quispicanchi, to provide infor-
mation about the rebels. They also asked that he censure the rebel in order
to discourage his followers. CDBRETA, I, 96.
32. “Informe Relacionado del Cabildo del Cuzco,” (1784), in CDIP, II, 1, 97–
148, quote from 114. See also testimonies in Moscoso y Peralta, Inocencia
justificada.
33. Moscoso y Peralta, Inocencia justificada, 90.
34. AGI, Lima, Leg. 1041, letter from Moscoso to Antonio Areta, December
9, 1780.
35. Ibid.
36. Ibid.
37. AGI, Cuzco, Leg. 80, “Causas contra varios curas por las rebeliones del
Perú, 1785–1795,” is the key source for this section, including the trial
against Juan de Luna and the February 10, 1781, letter from Juan de Luna
to Micaela Bastidas.
38. Ibid.
39. Yet as will be seen, this would change and rebels targeted priests, quite
violently, particularly in the south.
40. AGI, Cuzco, Leg. 80, testimony of Domingo Escalante.
41. Grave fear constituted a valid excuse from censure “if the law is ecclesiasti-
cal and if it’s nonobservance will not militate against the public good, the
Faith, or the authority of the Church.” See Canons 125, 2, 1324, 1325, and
1. Eulogio Zudaire, Don Agustín de Jáuregui (II) virrey interino del Perú (Pam-
plona, Spain: Diputación Foral de Navarra, Institución Príncipe de Viana,
1979), 144–146. See also AGI, Cuzco, Legs. 75 and 76, for documents.
Juan Manuel Moscoso y Peralta, Inocencia justificada contra los artificios de la
calumnia (Lima: Biblioteca Nacional, in press), testimony by Soto, 99–100.
For the city’s preparations, see Carlos Daniel Valcárcel, Túpac Amaru el revo-
lucionario (Lima: Moncloa– Campodónica, 1970), 172–175.
2. Zudaire, Don Agustín de Jáuregui, 145.
3. J. R. Gutiérrez, ed., Documentos para la historia antigua de Bolivia sacados de la
biblioteca de J. R. Gutiérrez, sitios de la Paz y el Cuzco 1780–1781 (La Paz: Im-
prenta de la Unión Americana, 1879), 123.
4. Agustín de Jáuregui, Relación de gobierno, Perú (1780–1784), ed. Remedios
Contreras (Madrid: CSIC, 1982), 170; Leon Campbell, The Military and Soci-
ety in Colonial Peru, 1750–1810 (Philadelphia: American Philosophical Soci-
ety, 1978), 113–115.
5. I have helped hundreds of students with soroche upon arrival in Cuzco—I
tell them to rest. The soldiers did not have this luxury. I learned from John
West, High Life: A History of High-Altitude Physiology and Medicine (Oxford: Ox-
ford University Press, 1998); on Peru, see an excellent recent study, Jorge Los-
sio, El peruano y su entorno: aclimatándose a las alturas andinas (Lima: IEP, 2012).
6. Zudaire, Don Agustín de Jáuregui, 147–149, 158–161; Boleslao Lewin, La re-
belión de Túpac Amaru, 3rd ed. (Buenos Aires: SELA, 1967), 454– 455; Jáu-
de bienes y normas eclesiásticas (s. XVI–XIX) (Cuzco: CBC, 2004), see 283 for
this document.
60. ADC, Vega Centeno, No. 11, 1780.
61. Zudaire, Don Agustín de Jáuregui, 146.
62. AGI, Lima, Leg. 1041, number provided by the Guayllabamba priest. See
also CDBRETA, I, 184–186, Moscoso to Jáuregui, December 22, 1780.
63. “Relación histórica,” Documentos, 128–129.
64. Scarlett O’Phelan Godoy, Un siglo de rebeliones anticoloniales: Perú y Bolivia,
1700–1783 (Cuzco: CBC, 1988), 235–237; Scarlett O’Phelan Godoy, La gran
rebelión en los andes: De Túpac Amaru a Túpac Catari (Cuzco: CBC, 1995),
47– 68.
65. CDIP, III, 8, 408– 416, “Relación de los Méritos y Servicios del Coronel Don
Mateo Pumachahua, cacique y gobernador del pueblo de Chinchero,”
quote from 411.
66. CDIP II, 1, 117, “Informe Relacionado del Cabildo del Cuzco, 1784.”
67. “Relación histórica,” Documentos, 127; “Informe Relacionado,” 117–119; see
also Melchor de Paz, Guerra separatista: Rebeliones de Indios en Sur América, la
sublevación de Tupac Amaru: Crónica de Melchor de Paz, ed. Luis Antonio
Eguiguren, 2 vols. (Lima: n.p, 1952), 1:277; CDBRETA, I, 237–240, letter
from Moscoso to Areche, December 22, 1780.
68. AGI, Lima, Leg. 1041; also “Informe Relacionado,” 120.
69. I thank Donato Amado for his geograph ical help. The quote is from Mos-
coso y Peralta, Inocencia justificada, 102.
70. On the importance of the Apurimac bridge, see various documents in AGI,
Lima, Leg. 1041; also ADC, Vega Centeno, No. 11, 1780, “copia de una carta
de la mujer del rebelde Tupamaro,” December 1780; CDIP, II, 2, 328; see also
CDIP, II, 2, 350. Scarlett O’Phelan Godoy stressed the importance of royalist
kurakas from the Sacred Valley. De Túpac Amaru a Túpac Catari, 47– 68.
71. Silver, Our Savage Neighbors, is particularly important on this. Peter Silver,
Our Savage Neighbors: How Indian War Transformed Early America (New York:
W. W. Norton, 2009).
72. Although Szeminski erred, in my mind, in framing this in terms of a
somewhat ahistoric Andean mentality, he shows how the rebels both ex-
panded the defi nition of the enemy and justified violence against them.
Jan Szeminski, La utopía tupamarista (Lima: PUC, 1983); see also Szemin-
ski, “Why Kill Spaniards? New Perspectives on Andean Insurrectionary
Ideology in the 18th Century,” in Resistance, Rebellion, and Consciousness in
the Andean Peasant World, 18th to 20th Centuries, ed. Steve J. Stern (Madison:
University of Wisconsin Press, 1987), 166–192.
73. “Relación histórica,” 128–129. Vega stresses how this rebel violence hurt
their prestige and recruiting elements. Vega, Túpac Amaru y sus compañeros,
1:129–132.
74. AGI, Lima, Leg. 1041, Cuartel Gral. del Cuzco, December 22, 1780 (re-
ceived in Lima January 14, 1781).
12. AGI, Lima, Leg. 1041, letter from Ignacio de Santiesteban Ruiz Cano to
Junta de Guerra, December 19, 1780.
13. A carga or load is usually estimated at 120 liters. The challenging Andean
terrain might have reduced each load, or at least what each mule carried. I
thank Ramiro Flores Guzmán for help on this question.
14. On the majeños, see Zoila Mendoza, “Performing Decency: Ethnicity and
Race in Andean ‘Mestizo’ Ritual Dance,” in Music and the Racial Imagina-
tion, ed. Ronald Radano and Philip Bohlman (Chicago: University of Chi-
cago Press, 2000), 231–270.
15. AGI, Lima, Leg. 1041, testimony of Agustín Herrera.
16. Perhaps the intended date was Saturday, December 30. On the devotion to
the Virgin Mary on Saturdays, see “Saturdays and the Immaculate Heart
of Mary,” www.mariancatechist.com/formation/mary/saturdays/index.
html (accessed 2/18/11).
17. AGI, Lima, 1041, testimony of Agustín Herrera.
18. Ibid.
19. Ibid.
20. AGI, Lima, 1041, testimony of Jorge Masías.
21. The historian Juan José Vega argues that Micaela Bastidas lost patience with
Tupac Amaru and began the march on Cuzco days before his return to Tun-
gasuca. However, she quickly lost control of the Quechua masses that had
urged her to depart and did not get far before they stopped and waited to re-
join the troops led by Tupac Amaru. His argument, based on scant documen-
tation and relying heavily on assumptions about her “impulsive” nature,
possible depression, and misunderstanding of the rebellion’s “continental
extension,” is not persuasive, but it highlights differences between the two
leaders and within the camp. Juan José Vega, Túpac Amaru y sus compañeros, 2
vols. (Cuzco: Municipalidad del Qosqo, 1995), 1:127–139; 2:306–320.
22. Gutiérrez, Documentos, 130. Padre de Sota also uses this number. Moscoso
y Peralta, Inocencia justificada, 101.
23. The sources do not discuss these “rabonas,” the women who accompanied
the rebels. In general, all of the troops were simply deemed “Indians” and
thus not discussed.
24. CDIP, II, 1, 113–115, “Informe Relacionado.”
25. CDIP, II, 2, 376, 377 (two documents). He had written a similar note on
December 21, 1780, about “Indians and Spaniards, who had stayed behind
in Sicuani.” CDBRETA, III, 1, 293, December 1, 1780, Tupac Amaru to
Don Basilio Morales and Eugenio Figueroa. On Maruri, see Vega, Túpac
Amaru y sus compañeros, 2:375–377.
26. CDBRETA, III, I, 296, December 30, 1780.
27. CDIP, II, 2, 380.
28. CDIP, II, 2, 383.
29. Ibid.
30. AGI, Charcas, Leg. 596, “quaderno 3, Testimonio formado sobre el alza-
miento de la provincia de Tinta.”
31. Vega, Túpac Amaru y sus compañeros, 1:147; for more on Castelo see David
Cahill, “Genocide from Below: The Great Rebellion of 1780– 82 in the
Southern Andes,” in Empire, Colony, Genocide: Conquest, Occupation, and Sub-
altern Resistance in World History, ed. A. Dirk Moses (New York: Berghahn
Books, 2008), 403– 423.
32. Alejandro Seraylán Leiva, Historia general del ejército Peruano, tomo III, vol.
2, “Campañas militares durante la dominación española” (Lima: Comisión
Permanente de Historia del Ejército del Perú, 1981), 615– 617.
33. For de la Madrid’s version, see CDIP, II, 2, 395– 401, which sheds light also
on how the letters were received by Moscoso. For the letters, see Pedro de
Angelis, Documentos para la historia de la sublevación de José Gabriel de Tupac
Amaru, cacique de la provincia de Tinta, en el Perú (Buenos Aires: Imprenta del
Estado, 1836), 18–24.
34. This is found in CDBRETA, 1, 327–328. The publishing history of these let-
ters is complicated. Those to Bishop Moscoso and the city council have been
reprinted numerous times, with errors. Zudaire, Don Agustín de Jáuregui,
163–166, especially footnote 6, clarifies this. The letters can be found in
CDIP, II, 2, 377–378 and 378–380; a subsequent letter to the city council is
found on 394–395. This same volume mistakenly prints another copy of
the letter to the bishop with the date of December 12, 1780, a mistake fi rst
made by Angelis, Documentos para la historia, 18–24. Zudaire also refers to
the letter to Tupac Amaru’s “beloved compatriots” but apparently read this
in AGI, Cuzco, Leg. 77. I found it in CDBRETA, 1, 330–331. Zudaire, Don
Agustín de Jáuregui, 345–346.
35. John Lynch, Spanish Colonial Administration, 1782–1810 (London: University
of London Press, 1958), 4.
36. CDIP, II, 2, January 3, 1781, 377–378. “Thebes” refers to the decision by
the Theban commander Epaminondas not to take the weakened city of
Sparta but rather return to Thebes in 371 BC .
37. CDIP, II, 2, 378, January 3, 1781.
38. Ibid. He also called for the establishment of a Real Audiencia in Cuzco, a
high court, a demand met in 1784.
39. CDBRETA, 1, 330–331.
40. Zudaire notes his efforts to calm criollos. Zudaire, Don Agustín de Jáuregui,
164–166.
41. Lewin, La rebelión de Túpac Amaru, 455. From the perspective of the city
council, this was absurd: he was not a legitimate authority and he was not
about to take the city. See “Informe relacionado,” 123, in which they
called the letters “soberbia arrogancia.”
42. “Informe Relacionado,” 123–124. Tupac Amaru hoped to control the Caja
de Agua, the entryway to Anta Pampa and Lima.
43. CDIP, II, 2, 440. The account in Melchor de Paz repeats the bishop’s line
that this charge was “imprudent.”
44. AGI, Lima, Leg. 1041, letter from José Casorla Tristán to Visitador Areche,
January 14, 1781.
45. Letter from Jáuregui to King, February 15, 1781, cited in Eulogio Zudaire,
“Análisis de la rebelión de Tupac Amaru en su Bicentenario (1780–1980),”
Revista de Indias 40 (1980), 13–70, quote from 48. The viceroy had more
than a year of hindsight at this point.
46. “Informe relacionado,” 120, uses the figure 60,000 rebels.
47. The sources never mention them. As it had done since it was coined in the
sixteenth century, the term “Indian,” used to describe Tupac Amaru’s
mass followers, lumped together and homogenized different social groups,
in this case fighters and followers. The mention about the more important
rebels attacked in Saylla who slept in tents is a rare reference to differences
among the rebel followers.
48. Melchor de Paz, Guerra separatista: Rebeliones de Indios en Sur América, la sub-
levación de Tupac Amaru. Crónica de Melchor de Paz, ed. Luis Antonio Eguig-
uren, 2 vols. (Lima: n.p, 1952), 1:283.
49. “Informe Relacionado,” 125.
50. CDBRETA, 1, 187, Moscoso, January 4, 1781.
51. AGI, Lima, Leg. 1586, “Secularización de los curatos y doctrinas,” testi-
mony by Father Juan Hurtado, 1790.
52. CDIP, II, 1, 331– 415, 356, Rafael José Sahuaraura Titu Atauchi, Estado del
Perú; Moscoso y Peralta Inocencia justificada, 102–104, account of Padre de
Sota.
53. CDIP, II, 1, 149–330, 217, Ignacio de Castro, Relación del Cuzco.
54. CDIP, II, 2, 459– 460, Micaela Bastidas to Tupac Amaru, January 24, 1781.
55. Ibid.
56. Vega makes this point in Túpac Amaru y sus compañeros, 1:156.
57. AGI, Cuzco, Leg. 32, trial of Figueroa. In CDBRETA, V, III, esp. 440– 442.
58. AGI, Cuzco, Leg. 32.
59. Mateo Urbicaín, “Sintético ‘diario’ de la Revolución,” in Preliminares del
incendio: Documentos del año de 1776 a 1780, en su mayoría inéditos, anteri-
ores y sobre la Revolución Libertadora que engendró y dió vida José Gabriel
Túpak Amaru, en 1780, ed. Francisco Loayza (Lima: Imprenta D. Miranda,
1947), 147.
60. CDBRETA, III, 1, 293–294, Tupac Amaru to Eugenio Canatupa Sinanyuca,
December 29, 1780.
61. CDIP, II, 2, 441, Moscoso to Areche, January 14, 1781. See also the account
in Lewin, La rebelión de Túpac Amaru, 457– 449, which mentions Friar Ramón
Salazar.
62. CDIP, II, 2, 394–395, January 9, 1781.
63. AGI, Charcas, Leg. 596, “quaderno 3, Testimonio formado sobre el alza-
miento de la provincia de Tinta.”
64. Gutiérrez, Documentos, 133; see also AGI, Lima, Leg. 1041, José Casorla
Tristán to Areche, January 11, 1781.
65. AGI, Lima, Leg. 1041, José Casorla Tristán to Areche, January 11, 1781.
66. CDIP, II, 2, 442.
67. AGI, Charcas, Leg. 596, letter from Gregorio Mariano Sánchez to Señor
Gobernador Diego Choquiguanca, January 17, 1781.
68. Melchor de Paz, Guerra separatista, 1:283.
69. “Historieta instructiva aunque concisa de la rebelión de José Gabriel Tupac
Amaru que fue executado . . .” 1781. I read this rare document in the Mata
Linares Collection, Real Academia de Historia, Madrid.
70. I play with this conjecture in a book on counterfactual Peruvian history.
Charles F. Walker, “Un Inca en Sacsayhuamán: Si Túpac Amaru hubiese
tomado el Cuzco (1780–1781),” in Contra-historia del Perú. Ensayos de Historia
Política Peruana, ed. Eduardo Dargent and José Ragas (Lima: MITIN, 2012),
33– 47.
71. AGI, Charcas, Leg. 596, “quaderno 3, Testimonio formado sobre el alza-
miento de la provincia de Tinta.”
72. The idea comes from a single citation, but sources are so thin with regard
to many facets of the uprising, particularly the background and conditions
of rebel fighters, that ideas emerging from single citations have been re-
peated by generations of historians.
73. The best work on disease, medicine, and society in colonial Peru has fo-
cused on Lima. For an important recent study, see Adam Warren, Medicine
and Politics in Colonial Peru: Population Growth and the Bourbon Reforms (Pitts-
burgh, Penn.: University of Pittsburgh Press, 2010).
74. Melchor de Paz, Guerra separatista, 1:283–284.
75. CDIP, II, 2, 441, Moscoso to Jáuregui. On the threat of food shortages, see
Gutiérrez, Documentos, 135–136; Melchor de Paz, Guerra separatista, 1:284,
which mentions “hunger” spreading in January.
76. Gutiérrez, Documentos, 134–135.
77. AGI, Charcas, Leg. 596, “quaderno 3, Testimonio formado sobre el alza-
miento de la provincia de Tinta.”
78. CDIP, II, 1, 359–360, Sahuaraura, Estado del Perú.
79. CDIP, II, 1, 127, “Informe relacionado.”
80. AGI, Charcas, Leg. 596, “quaderno 3, Testimonio formado sobre el alza-
miento de la provincia de Tinta.”
3. CDIP, II, 2, 518–520, has the list of troops. Juan José Vega, “Túpac Amaru
y su tiempo,” in Historia general del ejército Peruano tomo II, vol. 1, ed. Juan
José Vega (Lima: Comisión Permanente de Historia del Ejército del Perú,
1981), 421, notes the racial composition. Leon Campbell, The Military and
Society in Colonial Peru, 1750–1810 (Philadelphia: American Philosophical
Society, 1978), 129–131.
4. Vega, “Túpac Amaru y su tiempo,” 418; Carlos Daniel Valcárcel, Túpac
Amaru (Lima: Universidad Nacional Mayor de San Marcos, 1977), 116–121.
5. The tally of troops itself in CDIP, II, 2, 518–520; for an English summary,
see Campbell, The Military and Society in Colonial Peru, 130–131.
6. AGI, Cuzco, Leg. 63, March 1, 1781; his abilities to resurrect were also cov-
ered in his trial: see CDBRETA, III, I, 261, testimony of Diego Ortigoza,
May 14, 1781,
7. AGI, Cuzco, Leg. 63, March 1, 1781.
8. Ibid.
9. Areche used the term cañada. CDIP, II, 2, 620, April 8, 1781.
10. CDIP, II, 2, 457– 458, Moscoso to Areche, January 21, 1781. He warned
that the control of the Apurimac Bridge was fundamental to success.
11. CDBRETA, III, 1, 296–297, Comisiones to Felipe Cano and Tomás Quispe
and to Lucas Champi Tito Quecaño, January 14, 1781. Tupac Amaru over-
saw the building of a defensive wall outside of Combapata and trenches in
Tinta. He apparently moved headquarters to Tinta, where he had property.
Later in the month, he visited Langui and perhaps made a quick visit to
the south. Eulogio Zudaire, Don Agustín de Jáuregui (II) virrey interino del
Perú (Pamplona, Spain: Diputación Foral de Navarra, Institución Príncipe
de Viana, 1979), 175. See also AGI, Cuzco, Legs. 75 and 76, for extensive
documentation; Juan Manuel Moscoso y Peralta, Inocencia justificada contra
los artificios de la calumnia (Lima: Biblioteca Nacional, in press), testimony of
Soto, 99–100; Carlos Daniel Valcárcel, Túpac Amaru el revolucionario (Lima:
Moncloa– Campodónica, 1970), 172–175, for the city’s preparations.
12. Micaela Bastidas’s trial provides extensive documentation on this. See CD-
BRETA, IV, II.
13. For example, see the January 10, 1781, ultimatum by Juan de Dios Valen-
cia. CDBRETA, III, 1, 95– 96, “pena de vida.” Other hints of disciplinary
problems among the rebels can be seen in CDBRETA, III, 1, 95– 96, Santo
Tomás, January 10, 1781; also CDBRETA, III, 1, 109–110, Chumbivilcas,
March 1781. Antonio Bastidas describes the difficulties in controlling rebel
troops in CDIP, II, 2, 501–502. Bastidas also worried that with the proxim-
ity of Carnival, rebel troops would focus more on drinking than fighting.
Zudaire, Don Agustín de Jáuregui, 179.
14. Both letters found in Francisco Loayza, Mártires y heroinas (documentos inédi-
tos del año de 1780 a 1782) (Lima: Imprenta D. Miranda, 1945), 40, 41. Other
letters here from early 1781 mention the prospect of Indians abandoning
the struggle to tend to their fields and families.
15. On this point, see Magnus Mörner and Efraín Trelles, “A Test of Causal
Interpretations of the Túpac Amaru Rebellion,” in Resistance, Rebellion, and
Consciousness in the Andean Peasant World, 18th to 20th Centuries, ed. Steve J.
Stern (Madison: University of Wisconsin Press, 1987), 94–109.
16. David Cahill, “Genocide from Below: The Great Rebellion of 1780– 82 in the
Southern Andes,” in Empire, Colony, Genocide: Conquest, Occupation, and Subal-
tern Resistance in World History, ed. A. Dirk Moses (New York: Berghahn Books,
2008), 403– 423. Cahill overstates his argument— Castelo was important but
he and others never challenged José Gabriel and Micaela for the leadership.
17. CDBRETA, III, 1, 519–550.
18. CDBRETA, III, I, 611– 612.
19. Ibid.
20. CDBRETA, III, I, 612– 613, from Tupac Amaru to Francisco Torres, Janu-
ary 17, 1781.
21. See Alejandro Seraylán Leiva, Historia general del ejército Peruano, III, 2,
“Campañas militares durante la dominación española” (Lima: Comisión
Permanente de Historia del Ejército del Perú, 1981), 624– 625, for a map of
these maneuvers.
22. See CDIP, II, 2, 512–517, for a detailed description of the attack.
23. J. R. Gutiérrez, ed., Documentos para la Historia Antigua de Bolivia sacados de la
Biblioteca de J. R. Gutiérrez. Sitios de la Paz y el Cuzco 1780–1781 (La Paz: Im-
prenta de la Unión Americana, 1879), 138; Melchor de Paz, Guerra separat-
ista, 1:328–329; Jan Szeminski, “Why Kill the Spaniard? New Perspectives
on Andean Insurrectionary Ideology in the 18th Century,” in Resistance,
Rebellion, and Consciousness, 166–192.
24. Juan José Vega, Túpac Amaru y sus compañeros, 2 vols. (Cuzco: Municipali-
dad del Qosqo, 1995), 2:395; CDIP, II, 1, “Informe relacionado,” 129–131.
At this point, the rebels failed to connect forces; Ramón Ponce and Parvina
then attacked to the northeast, in Paruro, Cotabambas, and the provincias
altas. Paruro had provided troops to the royalists in the siege of Cuzco.
They attempted to cut the Pachachaca and Apurímac bridges to slow del
Valle’s forces, but to no avail.
25. Jorge Hidalgo Lehuede, “Amarus y cataris: Aspectos mesiánicos de la re-
belión indígena de 1781 en Cuzco, Chayanta, La Paz y Arica,” Chungará 10
(1983): 117–138.
26. As noted elsewhere, she also demonstrates the influence of Garcilaso de la
Vega. O’Phelan Godoy, “El ‘castigo ejemplar del traidor’: La radicalización
de la violencia en el Bajo y el Alto Perú,” in La gran rebelión en los andes: De
Túpac Amaru a Túpac Catari (Cuzco: CBC, 1995), 105–137.
27. Szeminski, “Why Kill the Spaniard?”
28. A critique well made by O’Phelan Godoy. “El castigo ejemplar,” 109.
29. Cited in Zudaire, Don Agustín de Jáuregui, 176. From Mata Linares regard-
ing Paruro.
30. Zudaire, Don Agustín de Jáuregui, 176–177.
55. Javier Flores Espinoza, “Justo Sahuaraura Inca y sus Recuerdos de la monar-
quía peruana,” in Don Justo Apu Sahuaraura Inca, Recuerdos de la Monarquía
Peruana o bosquejo de la historia de los Incas (Lima: Fundación Telefónica,
2001), 23–25. The letter is in CDIP, II, 2, 521–531.
56. Zudaire, Don Agustín de Jáuregui, 187.
57. CDIP, II, 2, 521–531.
58. CDIP, II, 2, 528–529. He sent similar letters to Bishop Moscoso. Zudaire,
Don Agustín de Jáuregui, 186.
59. CDIP, II, 2, 521–531; CDBRETA, III, 1, 204–222. For an overview about
Quechua in the eighteenth century, see Kenneth J. Andrien, “The Bour-
bon Reforms, Independence, and the Spread of Quechua and Aymara,” in
History and Language in the Andes, ed. Paul Heggarty and Adrian J. Pearce
(New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2011), 113–133. Andrien discusses the
relationship of the Church and Quechua at 116–123.
60. CDIP, II, 2, 534–535.
61. AGI, Cuzco, Leg. 77, Fernando Ramos Titu Atauchi to Moscoso.
62. CDIP, II, 2, 556–564, quote from 556. Also found in AGI, Lima, Leg. 1040.
63. CDIP, II, 2, 550, 556–564.
64. Ibid.
65. Zudaire, Don Agustín de Jáuregui, 189.
66. AGI, Lima, Leg. 1040, Areche to Gálvez, March 1, 1781.
67. Ibid.
68. Vega, “Túpac Amaru y su tiempo,” 425. I did not fi nd more information
about the movement of troops, but if Tupac Amaru did make this decision,
he erred.
69. “Sobre la supresión de la rebelión,” April 8, 1781, Lilly Library, Indiana
University.
70. On the deserter, see Carlos Daniel Valcárcel, La rebelión de Túpac Amaru
(México: Fondo de Cultura Económica, 1947), 116–117; see also L. E.
Fisher, The Last Inca Revolt, 1780–1783 (Norman: University of Oklahoma
Press, 1966), 217–220; Boleslao Lewin, La rebelión de Túpac Amaru, 3rd ed.
(Buenos Aires: SELA, 1967), 468– 472.
71. Vega, “Túpac Amaru y sus compañeros,” 206.
72. CDIP, II, 2, 588.
73. AGI, Cuzco, Leg. 63, letter from del Valle, April 8, 1781; CDIP, II, 2, 610–
623; also key is Avilés, April 12, 1781, in Melchor de Paz, Guerra separatista,
1:353–56 and 356–59. Del Valle describes Tupac Amaru’s letter— I have
never seen a copy and thus have doubts about its existence.
74. Markham provides a strong narrative of the Spanish offensive. Clements
R. Markham, A History of Peru (Chicago: Charles H. Sergel 1892), 202–205;
Zudaire, Don Agustín de Jáuregui, 202.
75. CDBRETA, IV, 2, 43– 45, Micaela Bastidas’s testimony from April 22, 1781.
On the accusations, see “Relación histórica del principio, progresos y es-
tado de la sublevación de José Gabriel Tupac-Amaru. En cuatro décadas,”
7. Torment
27. CDIP, II, 2, 578–579, and for the English translation stored in the Public
Record Office, 579–581; for a different English translation, see Ward Stavig
and Ella Schmidt, eds., The Tupac Amaru and Catarista Rebellions: An Anthol-
ogy of Sources (Indianapolis, Ind.: Hackett Publishing, 2008), 121–122. I
have consulted both but made some changes.
28. CDIP, II, 2, 581; I have maintained the rustic English translation.
29. Zudaire, Don Agustín de Jáuregui, 213–214.
30. Quoted in Zudaire, Don Agustín de Jáuregui, 222.
31. CDBRETA, III, I, 222–226, May 5, 1781.
32. CDBRETA, III, I, 234. José de Saldívar y Saavedra, May 5, 1781.
33. Roedl makes this point. Roedl, “Causa Tupa Amaro,” 109–111.
34. CDBRETA, III, I, 245–247. I reviewed the London Gazette Extraordinary and
did not fi nd any mention of Tupac Amaru. The Chester Chronicle and General
Advertiser published an article on October 6, 1780, that refers to an English
privateer who overtook a Spanish ship and came across letters from Are-
quipa, Cuzco, La Paz, and Potosí. On October 10, the same periodical pro-
vides further details, based on the letters written by a Jesuit priest.
35. I thank Griselda Jarquin for her diligent work on British newspapers.
36. CDBRETA, III, 1, 250–259.
37. CDBRETA, III, 1, 259–261; several other witnesses confi rm this. Ibid.,
261–262, testimony of Isidro Toera and Domingo Pérez León.
38. CDBRETA, III, 1, 267–268; for his property, see 224–226.
39. CDBRETA, III, I, 268–277. I have also used the English translation in
Stavig and Schmidt, The Tupac Amaru and Catarista Rebellions, 130–135.
40. Stavig and Schmidt, The Tupac Amaru and Catarista Rebellions, 132. I have added
a passage that they omitted from their translation, CDBRETA, III, I, 271.
41. Stavig and Schmidt, The Tupac Amaru and Catarista Rebellions, 133.
42. Stavig and Schmidt, The Tupac Amaru and Catarista Rebellions, 135; I have
made a minor change in the translation.
43. Stavig and Schmidt, The Tupac Amaru and Catarista Rebellions, 133. For the
Spanish original, see CDBRETA, III, I, 268–277.
44. CDBRETA, III, I, 278–279, Areche, May 16, 1781.
45. CDBRETA, III, I, 280–281, Areche, May 17, 1781.
46. CDBRETA, III, I, 279–288.
47. Daniel Valcárcel, La rebelión de Túpac Amaru (Mexico City: Fondo de Cul-
tura Económica, 1965), 121–122.
48. CDBRETA, V, III, has these trials, including the sentences.
49. CDIP, II, 2, 776.
50. Zudaire, Don Augstín de Jáuregui, 173.
51. Pedro de Angelis, “Castigos ejecutados en la ciudad del Cuzco con Tupac-
Amaru, su muger, hijos y confidentes,” in Documentos para la historia de la
sublevación de José Gabriel de Tupac-Amaru cacique de la provincia de Tinta, en el
Perú (Buenos Aires: Imprenta del Estado, 1836), 52–54, quote from 53.
Also in CDIP, II, 2, 774–776.
52. CDIP, II, 2, 775. Zudaire vehemently disagrees with this, arguing that the
garrote worked on any size neck. It is a bizarre passage, since he passionately
ridicules those who accept this view but passively describes this ritualized
torture. A meticulous historian, he is nevertheless the rare apologist for the
Spanish. Zudaire, Don Agustín de Jáuregui, 228. On Micaela Bastidis’s tongue,
see Melchor de Paz, Guerra separatista, 1:40; Durand Florez, Introducción, CD-
BRETA, IV, 2, summarizes these arguments well; see pp. x–xii.
53. CDIP, II, 2, 775.
54. Clements R. Markham, A History of Peru (Chicago: Charles H. Sergel and
Company 1892), 207.
55. CDIP, II, 2, 776.
56. CDIP, II, 2, 790–793.
57. Analysts, myself included, have too easily accepted the royalist intent of
using the ritual as a symbolic termination of the uprising.
10. Del Valle de Siles, Historia de la rebelión de Tupac Catari, 8–10. For a smart analy-
sis of how historians have not fully overcome contemporaries’ snide assess-
ment of Katari as a barbarian, see Thomson, We Alone Will Rule, 180–186.
11. Serulnikov develops the comparison in Revolution in the Andes; O’Phelan
Godoy has long linked the analysis of the two social movements; see
O’Phelan Godoy, Un siglo de rebeliones anticoloniales. On more contemporary
tensions between Inca and Aymara identities, see E. Gabrielle Kuenzli,
Acting Inca: National Belonging in Twentieth- Century Bolivia (Pittsburgh,
Penn.: University of Pittsburgh Press, 2013).
12. Del Valle de Siles, Historia de la rebelión de Tupac Catari, esp. 241–258.
13. Ibid., 45– 60.
14. Ibid., 1–30.
15. CDIP, II, 2, “Relación del éxito,” 407.
16. CDBRETA, III, I, Ponce to Tupac Amaru, February 1781, 589.
17. CDBRETA, III, I, Ponce to Tupac Amaru, March 5, 1781, 590–591.
18. Juan José Vega, Túpac Amaru y sus compañeros, 2 vols. (Cuzco: Municipali-
dad del Qosqo, 1995), 2:401. Ponce was referring to Isidro Mamani and
Andrés Guara.
19. Del Valle de Siles is excellent on this. Historia de la rebelión de Tupac Catari,
31–52.
20. “Relaciones de las operaciones militares del General Dn. Joaquín de Orel-
lana,” in Melchor de Paz, Guerra separatista: Rebeliones de Indios en Sur
América, la sublevación de Tupac Amaru: Crónica de Melchor de Paz, ed. Luis
Antonio Eguiguren, 2 vols. (Lima: n.p., 1952), 1:389– 403, quote from 395.
21. Melchor de Paz, Guerra separatista, 1:375.
22. Ibid., 376.
23. Ibid.
24. Augusto Ramos Zambrano, Puno en la rebelión de Túpac Amaru (Puno: Uni-
versidad Nacional Técnica del Altiplano, 1982), 236–237; Mamani’s trial is
in CDBRETA, III, I, 665– 687. See also Orellana in Melchor de Paz, Guerra
separatista, 1:375–377.
25. On his capture and the quote, CDBRETA, III, I, 672, Orellana, July 10,
1781.
26. Melchor de Paz, Guerra separatista, 1:382, 386, report from Don Celedonio
Bermejo, April 21, 1781.
27. Melchor de Paz, Guerra separatista, 1:373, “Capitulo de carta que refiere la
derrota de los Yndios rebeldes por el Comandante Don Ygnacio Flores en
las inmediaciones de Chuquisaca.”
28. Ibid., 376, 378–379.
29. Alberto Flores Galindo, In Search of an Inca: Identity and Utopia in the Andes
(Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2010), 106–120; Carlos Sempat
Assadourian, Sistema de la economía colonial: mercado interno, regiones y espacio
económico (Lima: IEP, 1982); Enrique Tandeter, Coacción y mercado: La min-
ería de la plata en el Potosí colonial, 1692–1826 (Cuzco: CBC, 1992).
30. For an incisive account on contemporary Bolivia, including the legacy of the
eighteenth-century rebellions, see Sinclair Thomson and Forrest Hylton, Rev-
olutionary Horizons: Past and Present in Bolivian Politics (New York: Verso, 2007).
31. Primary accounts include “Diario de los Sucesos del Cerco de la Ciudad de
La Paz en 1781, por el Brigadier Don Sebastián de Segurola,” in Archivo
Boliviano: Colección de documentos relativos a la historia de Bolivia, ed. Vicente
de Ballivián y Rojas, 2nd ed. (La Paz: Casa Municipal de la Cultura Franz
Tamayo, 1977), 1–183; Francisco Tadeo Diez de Medina, Diario del alza-
miento de indios conjurados contra la ciudad de Nuestra Señora de La Paz 1781, ed.
Maria Eugenia del Valle de Siles (La Paz: Don Bosco, 1981). For analysis,
see Mark Thurner, “Guerra andina y política campesina en el sitio de La
Paz, 1781,” in Poder y violencia en los andes, ed. Henrique Urbano (Cuzco:
CBC, 1991), 93–121. See also letters in Stavig and Schmidt, The Tupac
Amaru and Catarista Rebellions, 227–239.
32. Del Valle de Siles, Historia de la rebelión de Tupac Catari, 179.
33. Boleslao Lewin, La rebelión de Túpac Amaru, 3rd ed. (Buenos Aires: SELA,
1967), 515–517.
34. Del Valle de Siles, Historia de la rebelión de Tupac Catari, 175–180.
9. Southern Campaigns
1. For example, on October 17, 1781, Diego Cristóbal deemed himself the “le-
gitimate brother” of “Governador Don Joseph Gavriel Tupa Amaru.” See
Eulogio Zudaire, Don Agustín de Jáuregui (II) virrey interino del Perú (Pamplona,
Spain: Diputación Foral de Navarra, Institución Príncipe de Viana, 1979),
332.
2. Melchor de Paz, Guerra separatista: Rebeliones de Indios en Sur América, la sub-
levación de Tupac Amaru. Crónica de Melchor de Paz, ed. Luis Antonio Eguig-
uren, 2 vols. (Lima: n.p, 1952), 2:159.
3. Diego Cristóbal made more spelling mistakes and did not have the flourish
of José Gabriel. For example, see his August 19, 1781, letter to Fray Miguel
Morán. Lilly Library, Indiana University.
4. AGI, Lima, Leg. 1040, del Valle to Francisco Cuellar, June 22, 1781. Cuel-
lar was governor of Castrovirreina, part of Huancavelica. Zudaire, Don
Agustín de Jáuregui, 192.
5. Zudaire, Don Agustín de Jáuregui, 255.
6. Sergio Serulnikov, Revolution in the Andes: The Age of Túpac Amaru (Durham,
N.C.: Duke University Press, 2013), 56–59. On the Choquehuanca clan, see
Nils Jacobsen, Mirages of Transition: The Peruvian Altiplano, 1780–1930
(Berkeley: University of California Press, 1993), 82– 84.
7. Jacobsen, Mirages of Transition, describes and examines the altiplano well.
8. Lillian Fisher summarizes who was where. L. E. Fisher, The Last Inca Revolt,
1780–1783 (Norman: University of Oklahoma Press, 1966), 252.
9. AGI, Cuzco, Leg. 63, letter from del Valle, to Josef de Gálvez, June 26, 1781.
10. AGI, Lima, Leg. 1040, which has considerable information about this pe-
riod and violence; also AGI, Lima, Leg. 600; for del Valle’s account, AGI,
Cuzco, Leg. 63, June 26, 1781; Pedro de Angelis, Colección de obras y docu-
mentos relativos a la historia antigua y moderna de las provincias del Río de la
Plata (Buenos Aires: J. Lajouane and CIA, 1910), tomo IV (5 vols.), 316. On
this journey and other events examined here, see Boleslao Lewin, La re-
belión de Túpac Amaru (Buenos Aires: SELA, 1967), 484–527; Zudaire, Don
Agustín de Jáuregui, 255–268; L. E. Fisher, The Last Inca Revolt, 242–280.
11. AGI, Lima, Leg. 660, Martínez to Areche, June 22, 1781. See also AGI,
Lima, Leg. 1040, for Areche’s critique.
12. Almost all accounts of del Valle’s campaign rely on the “Relación histórica
de los sucesos de la rebelión de José Gabriel Tupac-Amaru, en las provincias
del Perú, el año de 1780,” found in the second edition of Angelis’s document
collection. Angelis, Colección de obras, IV, 316; see also Zudaire, Don Agustín de
Jáuregui, 257, and Gauvin Alexander Bailey, The Andean Hybrid: Baroque Con-
vergent Cultures in the Churches of Colonial Peru (Notre Dame: University of
Notre Dame Press, 2010), 282–284, who calls Maruri a “Robin Hood priest.”
Maruri was deported to Spain but freed in 1787. CDIP, II, 4, 372–373.
13. Augusto Ramos Zambrano, Tupamarus, Vilcapazas, Cataris, Ingariconas
(Arequipa: Instituto de Estudios Pukara, 2009), 27–50.
14. “Relación histórica de los sucesos,” 317.
15. Ibid.; Ramos Zambrano, Tupamarus, Vilcapazas, 53–55.
16. AGI, Cuzco, Leg. 63, del Valle to Gálvez, June 26, 1781.
17. Ibid.
18. AGI, Lima, Leg. 1039, January 2, 1781, from don Vicente Oré, corregidor
de Lampa.
19. ADC, Vega Centeno Collection, bolsa 3, number 35, 1783, “Criminal Pedro
Quispe Indio de Paucartambo.”
20. AGI, Cuzco, Leg. 63, del Valle to Gálvez, June 26, 1781. See AGI, Cuzco,
Leg. 63, from June 6, 1781, Cuellar to del Valle. Also in August 8, 1781,
letter in Melchor de Paz, Guerra separatista, 2:92.
21. Melchor de Paz, Guerra separatista, 2:91; see also AGI, Cuzco, Leg. 63, letter
from del Valle to Gálvez, July 18, 1781.
22. AGI, Cuzco, Leg. 63. This letter is dated September 28, 1781, when del
Valle is attempting to justify his failure, but the details ring true.
23. Ibid.
24. AGI, Lima, Leg. 1041, Manuel de Castilla to Areche, April 28, 1781.
25. Alicia Poderti, Palabra e historia en los Andes: La rebelión del Inca Túpac Amaru
y el noroeste argentino (Buenos Aires: Corregidor, 1997), 41– 67; Boleslao
Lewin, La rebelión de Túpac Amaru, 3rd ed. (Buenos Aires: SELA, 1967),
573– 611 on Argentina and 538– 687 for the rebellion’s repercussions in
other areas in Spanish America.
26. John Phelan, The People and the King: The Comunero Revolution in Colombia,
1781 (Madison: University of Wisconsin Press, 1978); Horacio Rodríguez
1. For one version, see Theda Skocpol, States and Social Revolutions: A Compara-
tive Study of France, Russia, and China (Cambridge: Cambridge University
Press, 1979).
2. Melchor de Paz, Guerra separatista: Rebeliones de Indios en Sur América, la sub-
levación de Tupac Amaru. Crónica de Melchor de Paz, ed. Luis Antonio Egu-
guren, 2 vols. (Lima: n.p, 1952), 2:164, letter from don Juan Bautista de
Zavala, November 3, 1781. English translation in Ward Stavig and Ella
Schmidt, eds., The Tupac Amaru and Catarista Rebellions: An Anthology of
Sources (Indianapolis, Ind.: Hackett Publishing, 2008), 231–234.
3. Melchor de Paz, Guerra separatista, 2:165.
4. María Eugenia del Valle de Siles, Historia de la rebelión de Tupac Catari, 1781–
1782 (La Paz: Don Bosco, 1990), 5–7.
5. Del Valle de Siles documents these tensions well. See del Valle de Siles,
Historia de la rebelión de Tupac Catari, 24–31. See also Sergio Serulnikov,
Revolution in the Andes: The Age of Túpac Amaru (Durham, N.C.: Duke Uni-
versity Press, 2013), 154–158. On Andrés Tupac Amaru and Gregoria
Apaza, including some love letters, see Teodosio Imaña Castro, “De lo pa-
sional en la vida de los caudillos indígenas de 1780,” Historia y Cultura 1
(1973, La Paz): 125–142.
6. Serulnikov, Revolution in the Andes, 156; the quotes are from an anonymous
account translated in Stavig and Schmidt, The Tupac Amaru and Catarista
Rebellions, 235–237 (with slight modification).
7. Stavig and Schmidt, The Tupac Amaru and Catarista Rebellions, 235–237. See
also del Valle de Siles, Historia de la rebelión de Tupac Catari, 267–280. Other
accounts include Sebastián Segurola’s diary, “Diario de los sucesos del
cerco de la ciudad de La Paz en 1781,” in Colección de documentos relativos a la
historia de Bolivia, 2nd ed., ed. Vicente Ballivián y Rojas (La Paz: Munici-
palidad de la Paz, 1977).
8. Boleslao Lewin, La rebelión de Túpac Amaru (Buenos Aires: SELA, 1967), 521.
9. Lewin, La rebelión de Túpac Amaru, 515–526; del Valle de Siles, Historia de la
rebelión de Túpac Catari, 305–333; Serulnikov, Revolution in the Andes,
157–159.
10. Serulnikov, Revolution in the Andes, 158, uses the term “collapse.”
11. Serulnikov, Revolution in the Andes, 157–159; del Valle de Siles, Historia de la
rebelión de Tupac Catari, 317–329.
12. Death sentence against Tupac Katari in Stavig and Schmidt, The Tupac
Amaru and Catarista Rebellions, 241–242. Sisa had been captured months
before her husband, in July 1781.
13. “Tratado Celebrado con Miguel Tupac-Amaru,” November 3, 1781, in Doc-
umentos para la historia de la sublevación de José Gabriel de Tupac-Amaru, Caci-
que de la provincia de Tinta en el Perú, ed. Pedro de Angelis (Buenos Aires:
Imprenta del Estado, 1836), 130–132; Eulogio Zudaire, Don Agustín de Jáu-
regui (II) virrey interino del Perú (Pamplona, Spain: Diputación Foral de Na-
varra, Institución Príncipe de Viana, 1979), 344–349; Juan José Vega, Tú-
pac Amaru y sus compañeros, 2 vols. (Cuzco: Municipalidad del Qosqo, 1995),
2:447– 449. The fact that Miguel was tried in Buenos Aires rather than
Lima probably saved him from the death penalty. Doubts remain about
whether he was Micaela’s half- or full brother.
14. Jáuregui to Gálvez, December 16, 1782. Cited to AGI, Lima, Leg. 1044, by
Zudaire, Don Agustín de Jáuregui, 339; I found this document in Leg. 1041.
15. AGI, Lima, Leg. 1085; Zudaire, Don Agustín de Jáuregui, offers a timeline,
309–311.
16. Zudaire, Don Agustín de Jáuregui, 236.
17. Ibid.
18. Ibid., 237, 379–380.
19. See Areche’s sharp letter against del Valle. AGI, Lima, Leg. 1041, Areche to
Gálvez, October 16, 1781. Other important documents are found here as
well.
20. See his detailed letter, Areche to Gálvez, October 3, 1781, in which he
called the pardon “exorbitant.” AGI, Lima, Leg. 1040. On this correspon-
dence, see Zudaire, Don Agustín de Jáuregui, 317.
21. CDIP, II, 3, 104–120, “Manifiesto que hace, José del Valle,” September 30,
1781, quote from 119–120.
22. José del Valle to Diego Cristóbal Tupac Amaru, Cuzco, October 10, 1781.
Transcription found in John Rowe Archive, Spanish American Mss. Box 5,
Yale University Library (Bingham Collection, from F. Pérez de Velasco).
23. Azángaro to del Valle, October 18, 1781, in Melchor de Paz, Guerra separat-
ista, 2:153–154.
24. Ibid.
25. Ibid.
26. AGI, Cuzco, Leg. 75, letter from Moscoso to Diego Cristóbal, November 3,
1781.
27. Diego Cristóbal Tupac Amaru to Bishop Moscoso, November 5, 1781, in
Melchor de Paz, Guerra separatista, 2:167–171, quote on 168.
28. Ibid.; for kuraka letter, see Zudaire, Don Agustín de Jáuregui, 341–342.
29. Diego Cristóbal Tupac Amaru to Bishop Moscoso, November 5, 1781, in
Melchor de Paz, Guerra separatista, 2:167–171.
30. Diego Cristóbal Tupac Amaru to Moscoso, Azángaro, January 3, 1782, in
Melchor de Paz, Guerra separatista, 2:171–172.
31. Valdez declared that the bishop was the rebel leader’s “life, shadow, asy-
lum, compass, guide, anchor, and pastor.” Letter from don Antonio Valdez
to Bishop Moscoso, Azángaro, January 3, 1781, in Melchor de Paz, Guerra
separatista, 2:172–174, quote from 173.
32. AGI, Lima, Leg. 1041, letter from Diego Cristóbal to del Valle, December 5,
1781. He complained about the abuses of the Choquehuanca clan.
33. RAH, Colección Mata Linares, Mata Linares to Gálvez, December 1, 1782,
Lima, 75V.
34. See letter from Moscoso to Diego Cristobal, November 17, 1781, Cuzco, in
Melchor de Paz, Guerra separatista, 2:154–155.
35. Zudaire, Don Agustín de Jáuregui, 348–350.
36. Melchor de Paz, Guerra separatista, 2:155–160, account by Ramón de Arias,
December 11, 1781.
37. Ibid., 157.
38. Ibid. See also Zudaire, Don Agustín de Jáuregui, 355.
39. Zudaire, Don Agustín de Jáuregui, 359.
40. Zudaire summarizes a variety of documents, Don Agustín de Jáuregui,
350–355.
41. Letter from don Juan Bautista Zavala, La Paz, January 15, 1782, in Melchor
de Paz, Guerra separatista, 2:186. He states that Arias was “fooling himself”
in believing that clemency would pacify Indians.
42. Melchor de Paz, Guerra separatista, 2:174–175.
43. Ibid.
44. For the offer of support if he returned to arms, see Zudaire, Don Agustín de
Jáuregui, 362.
45. “Relación de lo acaecido en el rendimiento de Diego Cristóbal Tupac Am-
aro, el que se efectuó a diez del dia 26 de enero de 1782” (Sicuani, January
29, 1782). This document was published in Monumentos literarios del Perú,
colectados por Don Guillermo del Rio, ed. Guillermo del Rio (Lima: Imprenta
de los Huérfanos, 1812). I am using the much-improved transcription by
John Rowe, kindly granted to me by his widow, Pat Lyon.
46. “Relación de lo acaecido.”
47. Jorge Cornejo Bouroncle, Sangre andina: Diez mujeres Cuzqueñas (Cuzco:
H. G. Rozas, 1949), 174–192; Vega, Túpac Amaru y sus compañeros, 2: 413–
416 provides brief biographical sketches.
48. See Zudaire, Don Agustín de Jáuregui, 366. We know little about Condori.
49. “De un vecino del Cuzco a un Ministro de Madrid,” September 1, 1782, in La
verdad desnuda o las dos faces de un obispo, ed. Francisco Loayza (Lima: D. Mi-
randa, 1943), 152–186, quote from 184. See also Leon Campbell, “Rebel or
Royalist? Bishop Juan Manuel de Moscoso y Peralta and the Tupac Amaru
Revolt in Peru, 1780–1784,” Revista de Historia de América 86 (1978): 135–167,
for the context—these were part of a campaign against Bishop Moscoso. Ca-
chuas or Kashwas is the name of a common group dance in Carnival.
50. Zudaire, Don Agustín de Jáuregui, 368.
51. Melchor de Paz, Guerra separatista, 2:206–207, Bando (edict), February 20,
1782.
7. These activities, however, did not indicate that rebels were abandoning the
fight, one that they undertook in the name of the king and Church. AGI,
Lima, Leg. 1041, letters from Salcedo to Moscoso, March 20, 1782, and
February 26, 1782.
8. Ibid.
9. AGI, Lima, Leg. 1041, Salcedo to Moscoso, February 26, 1782.
10. Ibid. It is not clear who took the position.
11. AGI, Lima, Leg. 1041, Valdés to Moscoso, February 26, 1782, Checacupe.
Markham includes Aronis in a list of kurakas loyal to the Crown in the
uprising. Clements R. Markham, Travels in India and Peru (London: John
Murray, 1862), 147.
12. The “Informe Relacionado del Cabildo” incorrectly contends that Diego Cris-
tóbal accompanied del Valle in his campaign to La Paz. CDIP, II, I, 141–142.
13. AGI, Lima, Leg. 1041, letter from del Valle, March 6, 1782, Sicuani.
14. For example, see AGI, Lima, Leg. 1041, letter by Francisco de Cuellar,
June 22, 1782, Sicuani.
15. Augusto Ramos Zambrano, Tupamaros, Vilcapazas, Catarias, Ingariconas
(Arequipa: Instituto de Estudios Pukara, 2009), 79– 88; Lizandro Luna, El
Puma Indomable: la sublevación indígena de 1780 en Azángaro (Puno: Editorial
Samuel Frisancho Pineda, 1982).
16. Zudaire, Don Agustín Jáuregui, 406.
17. Cited in Boleslao Lewin, La rebelión de Túpac Amaru (Buenos Aires: SELA,
1967), 701–702. More information in AGI, Lima, Leg. 661, esp. letter from
Jáuregui to King Charles III, February 23, 1782.
18. Sebastián Segurola, “Diario de operaciones,” in Melchor de Paz, Guerra
separatista, 2:241–255, quote from 243.
19. Ibid., 244.
20. Zudaire, Don Agustín de Jáuregui, 374–376, summarizes this well. For the
Moscoso letter, see 375, from AGI, Lima, Leg. 661. Resistance continued
in the Yungas to the north until August 1782. See Lewin, La rebelión de
Túpac Amaru, 702.
21. AGI, Lima, Leg. 1045, letter from Diego Cristóbal to Salcedo, November 5,
1782.
22. Juan José Vega, Túpac Amaru y sus compañeros, 2 vols. (Cuzco: Municipali-
dad del Qosqo, 1995), 2:414. He provides no proof.
23. Fisher, The Last Inca Revolt, 373–374; documentation can be found in AGI,
Lima, Leg. 1045.
24. Zudaire, Don Agustín de Jáuregui, 411.
25. Carlos Daniel Valcárcel, Túpac Amaru, precursor de la independencia (Lima:
UNMSM, 1977), 143–144.
26. AGI, Lima, Leg. 1045, del Valle to Jáuregui, August 8, 1782; Fisher, The
Last Inca Revolt, 373–374.
27. See Kathryn Burns’s wonderful article on this, “Amor y rebelión en 1782:
El caso de Mariano Tupac Amaru y Mariana Mejia,” Histórica 16 (1992):
131–176. The 1776 law had been modified in the late 1770s. On Salcedo’s
views, see AGI, Lima, Leg. 1045, letter from Moscoso to Jáuregui, Septem-
ber 30, 1782; also AGI, Lima, Leg. 1045, letter from Avilés to “Exc. Señor,”
October 1, 1782.
28. Burns, “Amor y rebelión,” 152–176, esp. 168–170.
29. Ibid., 144–145. More documentation can be found in AGI, Lima, Leg. 1045,
particularly a letter from Bishop Moscoso to Viceroy Jáuregui, September
30, 1782.
30. Examples includes AGI, Lima, Leg. 1045, Avilés to “Ex. Señor,” October 1,
1782. The letters refer to zurrón de plata or leather satchels.
31. Letter from Jáuregui to Areche, March 2, 1781, Lilly Library, Indiana
University.
32. AGI, Lima, Leg. 1091, “Duplicado de los autos,” has extensive documenta-
tion. Zudaire, Don Agustín de Jáuregui, 408– 409. In a May 8, 1782, letter to
Bishop Moscoso, Diego Cristóbal refers to the accusations about his hidden
wealth and excessive income. Melchor de Paz, Guerra separatista, 2:237–240.
33. AGI, Lima, Leg. 1040, Areche to Gálvez, October 3, 1781.
34. AGI, Lima, Leg. 1041, Areche to Gálvez, May 29, 1782.
35. Ibid., marginal note dated February 10, 1783. On documents such as these
and how people have read (and scribbled on) them, see Kathryn Burns,
Into the Archive: Writing and Power in Colonial Peru (Durham, N.C.: Duke
University Press, 2010).
36. AGI, Lima, Leg. 1041. These are marginal comments to a letter from Jáu-
regui to Gálvez, March 23, 1782, the comments dated February 27, 1783.
37. Juan Manuel Moscoso y Peralta, Inocencia justificada contra los artificios de la
calumnia (Lima: Biblioteca Nacional, in press), 67.
38. Ibid., 60– 67.
39. AGI, Lima, Leg. 1045, Moscoso to Jáuregui, July 16, 1782, Urubamba. Here
Moscoso mentions the complaints by Andrés about Franciscan friars who
were overcharging Indians. The Franciscans discounted the complaints,
contending that their work was more necessary than ever. Del Valle chimed
in that he thought “separation by force” would be counterproductive be-
cause it might lead people, that is, Indians, to believe that the amnesty and
thus the cease-fi re was over. AGI, Lima, Leg. 1045, letter from Moscoso to
Jáuregui, July 16, 1782; del Valle to Jáuregui, August 20, 1782.
40. AGI, Lima, Leg. 1045, Salcedo to Jáuregui, July 28, 1782.
41. Although Areche learned of the change in a February 1782 letter and
handed over the position to Escobedo in June 1782, he remained in Peru
until March 1783. For short biographies of Areche and Escobedo, see John
R. Fisher, Bourbon Peru 1750–1824 (Liverpool: Liverpool University Press,
2003), 162–166.
42. AGI, Lima, Leg. 1045, letter from Avilés to Jáuregui, May 23, 1782. Tupac
was often spelled Tupa and Amaru alternated with Amaro.
43. Ibid., letter from Baulen to Jáuregui, October 20, 1782.
71. AGI, Lima, Leg. 1045, testimony of Lorenzo Condori, Ocongate, February
15, 1783.
72. AGI, Lima, Leg. 1045, testimony of Mariano Tupac Amaru.
sentence in English can be found in Stavig and Schmidt, The Tupac Amaru
and Catarista Rebellions, 161–164.
15. Stavig and Schmidt, The Tupac Amaru and Catarista Rebellions, 162–164.
16. De Angelis, Documentos, 184–187, 188–191.
17. AGI, Charcas, Leg. 598, letter from Avilés and Mata Linares to Jáuregui,
August 1, 1783.
18. Zudaire summarizes these events and the flurry of orders and reports that
crossed the Andes and the Atlantic Ocean in Don Agustín de Jáuregui, 439–
441. The real orden can be found in AGI, Lima, Leg. 666.
19. Cited in Núria Sala i Vila, “La rebelión de Huarochirí de 1783,” Entre la
retórica y la insurgencia, ed. Charles Walker (Cuzco: CBC, 1995), 273–308,
quote from 281.
20. Sala i Vila, “La rebelión,” 295. On the Paititi, see Alberto Flores Galindo, In
Search of an Inca: Utopia and Identity in the Andes (Cambridge: Cambridge
University Press, 2010), 32–36, 49–52.
21. Zudaire, Don Agustín de Jáuregui, 430– 434. Sentence in CDIP, II, 3, 402.
22. RAH, Mata Linares Collection, documents collected March 4, 1784, letter
from March 1783.
23. CDIP, II, 3, 385, Mata Linares to Necochea, May 14, 1783. Necochea an-
swered two days later from Urcos, showing the speed of communications.
24. CDIP, II, 3, 386–389, Mata Linares to Jáuregui, May 31, 1783.
25. Zudaire presents this as a sign of his humanity. Zudaire, Don Agustín de
Jáuregui, 428. Mata Linares and other authorities knew that imprisoning
hundreds of indigenous people and others accused of being accomplices
would be impractical and unproductive. I do not believe that this makes it
a humane decision.
26. Six people had been executed on July 19; the seventh person sentenced,
Isidro Aguirre, had died in jail. Philippe Seiler, “Response to Rebellion in
Bourbon Spain: Colonial Revolt and Imperial Reactions, 1763–1783” (PhD
diss., Tulane University, 1995), 246–248. Seiler builds on data provided by
Scarlett O’Phelan Godoy in Un siglo de rebeliones anticoloniales: Perú y Bolivia
1700–1783 (Cuzco: CBC, 1988), 308–320. See CDIP, II, 3, 393, for a list of
those sent to Lima.
27. Loayza provides the breakdown of the ages; Zudaire differs and also argues
that only six were chained. See Tupac Amaru, Cuarenta años, 128–130;
Zudaire, Don Agustín de Jáuregui, 444– 445.
28. Tupac Amaru, Cuarenta años, 36.
29. Tupac Amaru, Cuarenta años, 32–37. Loayza uses the expression “via cru-
cis” in his summary of the trip, 111–140.
30. CDIP, II, 3, 396, Commander Jacinto Iriarte, November 5, 1783, Camino
Real.
31. Tupac Amaru, Cuarenta años, 131–132, letter from Capellán Pablo Lopes to
Viceroy Jáuregui, November 4, 1783.
32. CDIP, II, 3, 398– 401, letters from Jacinto Iriarte to Viceroy Jáuregui, No-
vember 12, 1783, Ica, and November 28, 1783, Lima.
33. CDIP, II, 3, 425– 427, letter from Viceroy Jáuregui to Gálvez, April 1,
1784, Lima. For the sentence see AGI, Lima, Leg. 1046, Testimonio del
Cuaderno, 9.
34. “San Pedro de Alcantara,” www.abc.se/~pa/mar/spa.htm (accessed
5/10/11).
35. Zudaire, Don Agustín de Jáuregui, 466. For a list of passengers, see CDIP, II,
3, 427– 428.
36. For two lists, see CDIP, II, 3, 464– 467.
37. Tupac Amaru, Cuarenta años, 40– 43.
38. CDIP, II, 3, 464– 466, “Relación de los Pasageros,” February 25, 1785; Tu-
pac Amaru, Cuarenta años, 148–149.
39. Lewin, La rebelión de Túpac Amaru, 712. His figures are from Juan Bautista
Tupac Amaru.
40. Tupac Amaru, Cuarenta años, 43– 49.
41. “El hundimiento de San Pedro Alcántara,” www.todoababor.es/datos_do-
cum/hundimiento-sanpedro.htm (accessed 1/6/12).
42. CDIP, II, 3, 460– 466, has a variety of documents about the chaotic arrival
in Spain and the confusion after the shipwreck.
43. “San Pedro de Alcantara,” www.abc.se/~pa/mar/spa.htm.
44. AGI, Lima, Leg. 1049, September 7, 1787, petition from Castillo de Santa
Catalina. Reprinted in Tupac Amaru, Cuarenta años, 78–79.
45. CDIP, II, 3, 495, document from July 29, 1792, Madrid. See also docu-
ments in AGI, Charcas, Leg. 597, request from Miguel Tupac Amaru,
Cádiz. Unfairly and even viciously, Zudaire claims that he died of hypo-
chondria. Zudaire, Don Agustín de Jáuregui, 449.
46. Tupac Amaru, Cuarenta años, 50.
47. Ibid., 50–56.
48. Ibid., 56– 60.
49. Bartolomé Mitre, Historia de Belgrano y de la Independencia Argentina, 3 vols.
(Buenos Aires: F. Lajouane, 1887), 2:420– 424.
50. More needs to be known about Juan Bautista’s long life. See Eduardo
Astesano, Juan Bautista de América: El Rey Inca de Manuel Belgrano (Buenos
Aires: Ediciones Castañeda, 1979); Alfredo Varela, Memorias del hermano
de Túpac Amaru escritas en Buenos Aires (Buenos Aires: Editorial Boeda,
1976).
51. Charles F. Walker, Smoldering Ashes: Cuzco and the Creation of Republican Peru,
1780–1835 (Durham, N.C.: Duke University Press, 1999), 59– 61.
52. Ibid.
53. RAH, Colección Mata Linares, #1593, May 31, 1783.
54. On late colonial ideologues and their views on Indians, see Pablo Macera,
Trabajos de historia, 4 vols. (Lima: Instituto Nacional de Historia, 1977). Also
important are David T. Garrett, Shadows of Empire: The Indian Nobility of Cuzco,
1750–1825 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2005); Alcira Dueñas,
Indians and Mestizo in the “Lettered City:” Reshaping Justice, Social Hierarchy, and
Political Culture in Colonial Peru (Boulder: University Press of Colorado, 2010).
55. Clements R. Markham, A History of Peru (Chicago: Charles H. Sergel and
Company, 1892), 205. Quechua can be spelled different ways.
56. AGI, Lima, Leg. 1041, letter from Jáuregui to Gálvez, June 20, 1781; more
is found in AGI Lima, Leg. 1046. For a good overview, see David Cahill,
“El visitador general Areche y su campaña iconoclasta contra la cultura
andina,” in Visión y símbolos: Del Virreinato criollo a la república peruana, ed.
Ramón Mujica Pinilla (Lima: Banco de Crédito, 2006), 85–111.
57. For the history of Quechua debates in eighteenth century, see Bruce
Mannheim, The Language of the Inka since the European Invasion (Austin:
University of Texas Press, 1991); Kenneth Andrien, “The Bourbon Re-
forms,” and Adrian J. Pearce, “Reindigenization and Native Languages,” in
History and Language in the Andes, ed. Paul Heggarty and Adrian J. Pearce
(New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2011), 113–133, 135–162, as well as other
essays in this important collection.
58. Eunice Joiner Gates, “Don José Antonio de Areche: His Own Defense,”
HAHR 8, 1 (1928): 14– 42; for a biographical synopsis see John R. Fisher,
Bourbon Peru, 1750–1824 (Liverpool: Liverpool University Press, 2003),
162–163.
59. AGI, Cuzco, Leg. 29, Antonio Samper to Sr. Marqués Caballero, 1807.
60. RAH, Mata Linares, #1606, informe de Mata Linares, June 30, 1781.
61. Ibid.
62. AGI, Cuzco, Leg. 29, Mata Linares to Jáuregui, June 30, 1783.
63. AGI, Lima, Legs. 1055 and 1056; Zudaire, Don Agustín de Jáuregui, 453– 455.
There is one mention of the friendship with Palacios in CDBRETA, I, 526,
testimony from don Esteban Zuñiga.
64. David Cahill, “A Liminal Nobility: The Incas in the Middle Ground of Late
Colonial Peru,” in New World, First Nations, ed. David Cahill and Blanca
Tovías (Brighton, United Kingdom: Sussex Academic Press, 2006), 169–
195, quote from 181.
65. I am relying on the excellent article by Cora Bunster and Ana María Lo-
randi, “El fantasma del criollismo después de la rebelión de Túpac Amaru,”
Histórica 30, 1 (2006): 99–135. The key information can be found in AGI,
Cuzco, Leg. 29. See also Zudaire, Don Agustín de Jáuregui, 450– 457; David
Cahill, “Repartos ilícitos, y familias principales en el sur andino: 1780–
1824,” Revista de Indias 182– 83 (1988): 453– 455, and Cahill, “A Liminal
Nobility,” 179–182, for information on the family itself.
66. Lorandi and Bunster, “El fantasma del criollismo,” 113.
67. Summarized nicely in Ana María Lorandi, “Sospechas de sospechas, de
sospechas: memorial de un militar ilustrado a fi nales del siglo XVIII,”
Fronteras de la historia 14, 1 (2009): 128–148, which analyzes the document
Conclusion
1. AGI, Lima, Leg. 1088, letter from Moscoso to Jáuregui, June 8, 1782.
2. RAH, Mata Linares Collection, #1571, Carta de Mata Linares a Gálvez,
sobre la expedición al Cuzco para someter a Tupac Amaru, January 18,
1781, Huamanga.
3. The literature on change in the late eighteenth century is vast. For a sharp
overview, see Gabriel Paquette, Enlightenment, Governance, and Reform in
Spain and its Empire, 1759–1808 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press,
2008).
4. AGI, Cuzco, Leg. 65, letter to Sr. Intendente Conde Ruiz de Castilla, June
28, 1798.
5. AGI, Cuzco, Leg. 29, Moscoso to Areche, April 13, 1781.
6. See the detailed explanation by Juan Carlos Estenssoro, “La plástica colonial
y sus relaciones con la gran rebelión,” Revista Andina, 9, 2 (1991): 415– 439.
7. I thank Professor Tom Cummins for alerting me to this and sharing images.
8. Charles F. Walker, Smoldering Ashes: Cuzco and the Creation of Republican Peru,
1780–1835 (Durham, N.C.: Duke University Press, 1999), 72–77.
9. Cited in Eulogio Zudaire, Don Agustín de Jáuregui (II) virrey interino del Perú
(Pamplona, Spain: Diputación Foral de Navarra, Institución Príncipe de
Viana, 1979), 441.
17. By this I mean they tempered their criticism and demands, but certainly
did not recede into an apolitical cave. As recent waves of historiography
have shown, indigenous voices ripple through the archives— but as errant
taxpayers, troublemakers, or victims and rarely as three-dimensional
subjects.
18. CDBRETA, V, III, “Informe,” November 3, 1783, Madrid, 613– 614.
19. CDBRETA, V, III, “Conclusiones a las que llegó en Madrid la Junta de
Ministros sobre sentencias por la rebelión y otras,” 635.
20. Gregorio Funes, Ensayo de la historia civil de Buenos Aires, Tucumán y Para-
guay, 2nd ed. (Buenos Aires, Calle del Perú 171, 1856), 2:229–230.
21. Antonio Ferrer del Rio, Historia del reinado de Carlos III en España (Madrid:
Imprenta Matute, 1856), vol. 3, chap. 5; Miguel Lobo, Historia general de las
antiguas colonias hispano-americanas desde su descubrimiento hasta el año mil
ochocientos ocho (Madrid: M. Guijarro, 1875), vol. 3. See also Jean P. Clem-
ent, “La opinión de la corona española sobre la rebelión de Túpac Amaru,”
Acta Litteraria Academiae Scientarum Hungaricae 23 (1981): 325–335.
22. Scholars disagree about whether the leader of this massive slave revolution
was referring to the Incan Empire (some thought that the indigenous
people of Hispaniola, the Taino, descended from the Incas) or the Cuzco
rebels. Jean Fouchard, “Pourquoi Haiti? Ou quand et par qui fut choisi de
redonner a notre patrie le nom Indien d’Haiti?” Revue de la Societe Haitienne
D’Histoire et de Geographie 42, 145 (1984): 13–17 (the link to Peru is dis-
cussed at 14); Laurent Dubois, “Avenging America: The Politics of Violence
in the Haitian Revolution,” in The World of the Haitian Revolution, ed. David
Geggus and Norman Fiering (Bloomington: University of Indiana Press,
2009), 122. David Geggus is skeptical; see his Haitian Revolutionary Studies
(Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 2002), 214.
23. Luis Camnitzer, On Art, Artists, Latin America, and Other Utopias, ed. Rachel
Weiss (Austin: University of Texas Press, 2009), 73.
24. AGI, Estado, Leg. 65, no. 1, letter of June 4, 1790, to Governador de Guyana.
25. Antonio Cisneros, Postales para Lima (Buenos Aires: Ediciones Colihue,
2001), 35 (my translation).
26. The Tupamaros had three sources for the name: Tupac Amaru II; Uru-
guayan gauchos who fought the Spanish in the early nineteenth century
and assumed the name Tupamaros; and a popu lar song by a 1960s Uru-
guayan folk group, the Olimareños. Camnitzer, On Art, 73.
27. Tayannah Lee McQillar and Fred Johnson III, Tupac Shakur: The Life and
Times of an American Icon (Cambridge, Mass.: Da Capo Press, 2010), 33–34;
Jasmine Guy, Afeni Skakur: Evolution of a Revolutionary (New York: Atria
Books, 2005).
28. Jeremy Prestholdt, “The Afterlives of 2Pac: Imagery and alienation in Si-
erra Leone and Beyond,” Journal of African Cultural Studies 21, 2 (2007):
197–218; the quote is from 197, fi rst paragraph. I also learned from Lindon
Barrett, “Dead Men Printed: Tupac Shakur, Biggie Small, and Hip-Hop
Arnie Bauer and Andrés Reséndez read this book chapter by chapter, improving
my arguments and writing. Carlos Aguirre, Kathryn Burns, Mark Carey, Peter
Guardino, Ari Kelman, and Kathy Olmsted provided thoughtful feedback.
Antonio Acosta, María José Fitz, and Luis Miguel Glave brightened research in
Seville, while Marta Irurozqui and Víctor Peralta guided me in Madrid. In Peru,
I always count on Iván Hinojosa, and I also want to mention the support of
Donato Amado, Ruth Borja, Marco Curatola, Javier Flores Espinoza, Pedro
Guibovich, Margareth Najarro, Lucho Nieto, Ramón Mujica, Scarlett O’Phelan
Godoy, Aldo Panfichi, and Claudia Rosas. I want to extend a special note of
gratitude to Patricia Lyon. Just after I embarked on the project, she called to
invite me to review the late John Rowe’s library. I found treasures there and
also learned a great deal in my conversations with Pat.
I have presented sections of this book in numerous places. Special thanks for
their suggestions to John Coatsworth, Jeremy Adelman, Michael Laffan, Marga-
ret Chowning, Víctor Maqque, Karen Graubart, Shane Greene, Tom Cummins,
Gary Urton, Christian Fernández Palacios, Michael Gonzales, Kristin Huffi ne,
Dain Borges, Emilio Kouri, Fernando Purcell, Pablo Whipple, Cristian Castro,
Paulo Drinot, Anne More, Ivonne del Valle, and Barbara Fuchs. Bruce Castle-
man, Carolyn Dean, Ramiro Flores, Stella Nair, Margaret Sankey, David Sil-
bey, Stefano Varese, Janett Vengoa, and Adam Warren answered random ques-
tions on topics ranging from Ceuta to total war. I’ve had wonderful students in
Davis, including my summer class in Cuzco. I particularly want to thank Mark
Dries, Griselda Jarquin, Jeremy Mikecz, Elizabeth Montañez Sanabria, and
José Ragas for their research assistance. In Davis, my pelotón keeps me sane—
thanks Ari, Pablo, Simon, and Tim for the rides and much more.
Zoila Mendoza is my in-house Cuzco consultant and daily inspiration. She
and my children, María and Sammy, joined me in Sevilla for six months in
2007 and have followed this book with patience and even love. They are my
world. My mother passed away while I was writing the book. I think she would
have liked it. John, Mary, and Maggie are always supportive and helped in
numerous ways. While in Lima I count on the Mendoza clan. Abrazos to doña
Zoila, Miguel, Chachi, Martha, Pocha, Chicho, Uba, Kelly, and my wonderful
nieces and nephews. I also want to mention the late Lucrecia Moeremans, mi
mamá tucumana, who meant so much to me.
Kathleen McDermott and Andrew Kinney gracefully guided me through
the editing process at Harvard University Press while Pamela Nelson oversaw
production and James Cappio did a masterful job at copyediting. I want to
thank the two anonymous reviewers for their thorough reports. It was a plea-
sure working with Isabelle Lewis on the maps; Christina Acosta did another
fi ne job on the index. In my search for images, numerous people came to my
aid, including Carlos Aguirre, Nino Bariola, Tom Cummins, Luis Miguel Glave,
Natalia Majluf, José Ragas, Pilar Ríos and TJ Rushing. Antonio Cisneros’s poem
“Tupac Amaru Relegated” is from Postales para Lima (Buenos Aires: Ediciones
Colihue, 2001), p. 35. The translation is my own.
Finally, I want to acknowledge the four late historians to whom I am dedi-
cating this book, all wonderful people and inspiring scholars: Alberto Flores
Galindo, Friedrich Katz, Enrique Tandeter, and my beloved suegro, don Edu-
ardo Mendoza Meléndez (1911–2013).
Abancay, 20, 87, 103, 105, 132, 271 replacement of, 232, 256; sentencing of
Acomayo, 71, 100, 128, 137 Tupac Amaru, 162, 166, 207
Acora, 102, 172, 176, 191 Areta, Antonio, 74
Acos, 70, 78, 100, 101 Arias, Ramón, 210, 212–214, 224, 226
Acuña, José, 155, 193, 194 Arriaga, Antonio de, 1–5, 16, 34–37, 48,
Afro-Peruvian slaves, 49–51 57– 64, 69, 82– 85, 125, 160, 165;
alcabala, 4, 25, 48, 87, 125 capture of, 60, 81; excommunication
Alvarez y Nava, don Joseph, 44– 45 of, 37; execution of, 1–17, 27, 34–37,
Amaru-Katarista alliance, 169, 209 40, 41, 49, 51, 60, 63, 64, 66, 81– 83, 88,
American Revolutionary War, 16, 250, 145–147, 160, 162, 263–264
277 Asillo, 127, 186, 211
Andes, 3– 6, 9, 14, 16–17, 18–39, 65, Ausangate, 110, 241, 246
88– 89, 109, 130, 132, 138, 148, 163, Avilés, Gabriel de, 88– 89, 192–194, 221,
180, 183–184, 208, 259, 264; Catholic 232, 235, 237–240, 243, 247, 249;
church in, 68; colonial, 1, 68, 211, 270; arrival of, 116; forces of, 88 117, 119,
southern, 5, 6, 23, 41, 56, 215; under 121, 126, 186; support for, 261
Spanish rule, 2, 46, 181, 196, 203, Ayaviri, 93, 95, 97, 102
268–269, 272, 277; uprising in, 10, 209, Aymara, 169, 171–173, 185, 204; language
234 of, 15
Anta, 105, 121, 131, 142, 186 Azángaro, 34, 48, 92, 93, 101, 111, 135,
Apaza, Gregoria, 172, 201, 204, 206 184, 187, 190, 199, 200, 205, 207, 208,
Apaza, Julián. See Tupac Katari, Andrés 210, 216–217, 224, 232, 241, 246;
Inca kurakas from, 94, 96, 115, 211, 213;
Apurímac Bridge, 105, 313n24 rebels from, 191; uprising in, 242
Areche, José Antonio de, 3, 24–26,
30–32, 34, 57, 83– 84, 88– 91, 102, 111, Banda, Mariano, 58– 62, 159, 164
162–167, 184, 190, 202, 207–208, 214, Bastidas, Antonio, 35, 45, 136, 144, 165,
217–218, 221, 227–233, 265, 268–269, 166
274; and abolition of Quechua, Bastidas, Micaela, 2, 3, 14, 20–23, 30, 34,
258–260; correspondence with del 54– 61, 63– 64, 77, 78– 81, 94, 98–103,
Valle, 196–199; correspondence with 106–108, 110, 112–113, 122–124, 128,
Tupac Amaru, 144–148; decree of, 131; 131, 135–136, 144, 147, 149, 152–154,
efforts with Mata Linares, 91, 151–153, 158–161, 165–166, 168, 172, 177, 187,
155–156, 158, 167, 212; and Madrid 189, 196, 198, 206–208, 217, 254, 262,
court, 229–231, 259; petition to, 30; 264, 268, 273; background of, 20–21;
reforms of, 34, 208, 260, 263, 270; capture of, 150, 182–183, 196, 198, 207;
Cuzco, 1, 3, 6, 10–22, 25–28, 31–38, 40, Gálvez, José de, 23–24, 31, 32, 90, 133,
44, 47–58, 60– 61, 65–76, 81– 83, 148, 198, 208, 218, 229, 249, 261, 263
86– 94, 96, 98–105, 130–151, 152–157, Garcilaso de la Vega y Vargas, Sebastián
161, 164, 165, 168–169, 172–179, (“El Inca”), 28–29, 92, 209, 258–259,
180–182, 184–186, 189, 190, 192–200, 270; Royal Commentaries of the Incas
202–204, 206–207, 209–212, 238–244, (Comentarios Reales), 28, 29, 92
246–247, 249–251, 256, 259–265, Guaygua, Santos, 241, 244
267–273, 275–277; authorities in, 26, Guirior, Manuel de, 30, 32, 37, 39
53, 69, 70–71, 82, 93, 100, 150, 196, Gutiérrez, Ramón, 102–103
229, 249, 256, 260, 275; as “a Babylon,” Gutiérrez Sonco, Pascual, 97, 98
269; bishop of, 9, 36, 48; cathedral of,
19, 66, 68, 109, 111; Catholic Church Haitian Revolution, 16, 274, 277, 278
in, 66; city council of, 81, 87– 88, 104, Huamanga, 142, 156, 161, 164, 251
111, 117, 125, 129, 188, 277; conspira- Huarochirí, 30, 31, 160, 247, 249, 253
cies in, 34–35; corregidor of, 51, 232; Huatanay River, 110, 152, 166, 228
countryside of, 68, 85; execution in,
181; hard-liners in, 237, 243; as Inca Inca(s), 1, 6, 15–16, 21–22, 29, 109–110,
center, 110; indigenous people of, 5, 11, 129, 184, 188, 245, 256, 269, 271, 275;
26, 182; officials in, 257; plaza of, 100, blood of, 49; conquest of, 68, 134;
109, 137, 143, 153, 164–165, 258; descendants of, 14, 64, 67, 154, 162,
population of, 16, 184, 244, 259; 185, 229, 259, 271; empire of, 67, 118,
royalists in, 87, 129, 133, 268; siege of, 172, 259, 271, 273; genius of, 16; heir
109–129, 135, 136–137, 141, 164, 173, of, 147; heritage of, 19, 119, 137,
216, 261, 271; terror in, 107–108, 117; 258–259; idolatry of, 92; image of, 31,
Tupac Amaru base in, 7, 11; uprising 172, 270–271, 336n12; king of, 33, 35,
in, 259; war council of, 51, 111 185, 204, 236, 256, 277; language of,
15, 110; last of, 27–31, 33–34; memory
de la Puente, Vicente, 36–37 of, 148, 163, 258, 260, 268–269, 271;
del Valle, José, 88, 90– 91, 102, 131, 133, name of, 204; period of, 55; return of,
135, 136, 139–144, 147, 148–151, 179, 6, 33, 38–39, 57, 172, 209; romantic
183–190, 192–200, 202, 206–211, depiction of, 29; royalty, 1, 18, 25, 33,
213–217, 220–221, 223–224, 226, 227, 49, 118, 262; ruler, 6, 18, 92, 109, 277;
229–231, 236, 238; commanders of, stories of, 28, 92
193; correspondence of, 190; death of, Incanism, 273, 336n12, 336n14
198; failed campaign of, 202; role in
Tupac Amaru’s execution, 209; troops Jáuregui, Agustín de, 32, 39, 74, 88, 91,
of, 141–143, 187–189 111, 113, 148, 195, 196–199, 202, 214,
Dominicans, 27, 67 217, 226, 229–232, 239–240, 243, 245,
249; signing of amnesty, 207–208
Escarcena, José Esteban, 47, 58, 59, 61, 164 Jesuits, 18, 20, 27, 67, 160; church in Juli,
Escobedo y Alarcón, Jorge, 230, 232, 243, 176; college of, 111, 128; holdings of,
245, 250, 256, 261, 263 153; monastery of, 51
Jujuy, 16, 189
Figueroa, Juan Antonio “el Gallego,” 3, Juli, 172, 175, 176, 177, 191, 200, 226
58, 59, 82, 123, 125, 164
Flores, Ciriaco, 247, 249 Katari, Dámaso, 170
Flores, Ignacio, 179, 203, 204, 232 Katari, Nicolás, 170
Franciscans, 27, 67 Katari, Tomás, 169–170
Katari Rebellion, 180, 277
Gallegos, don Justo, 80, 113, 220 Katarista(s), 6, 107, 169–176, 178–179,
Galleguillos, Manuel, 57– 60, 62, 100, 203, 260, 270; leadership of, 175–176;
159, 164 movement of, 172; rebellion of, 180,
Palacios, José de, 61, 161, 261–262 of, 190–199; refugees of, 196; residents
Pampamarca, 1, 13, 15, 18, 20, 21, 27, 34, of, 192, 194, 196, 200
40– 64, 67, 82, 115, 154, 161, 166, 180, Puquín, 120, 122, 124, 125, 187
210, 220, 221, 223, 233–235, 247;
martyr of, 275; parish of, 3, 80; priest Qosqo. See Cuzco
of, 80, 227 Quechua, 4– 6, 15, 18, 20–21, 25, 28, 33,
Paruro, 71, 100–101, 102, 121, 125, 134, 38, 46, 55, 60, 72, 91, 97, 110, 120, 122,
137, 149, 187 138, 141, 144, 146, 148, 166, 238,
Parvina, Tomás, 137–138, 143–144, 149 259–260, 268–270; abolition of, 259; as
Paucartambo, 76, 83, 96, 100, 101–103, area, 65; as culture, 269; Indians in, 20,
133–134, 137, 192, 200, 212, 246; 110, 173, 222; Masses in, 69, 269;
lowlands of, 65; river of, 14 movement, 203; people of, 138, 172,
Peru, 5– 6, 10–11, 16–17, 23, 27, 29, 31, 259; as region, 222; speakers of, 1, 20,
40, 48–51, 68, 71–72, 83, 88, 91, 110, 41, 110, 122, 146, 204
152, 156, 161, 165, 168, 179, 181, 194, Quiquijana, 41, 44, 46, 74, 100, 101
199, 208, 215, 230–233, 243, 249, 250, 142–143
253; Andes of, 6, 16; border with Quispe, Alejo, 235–236
Bolivia, 14, 191; colonial, 20, 58, 227; Quispe, Andrés, 223–224, 239
demography of, 132; fate of, 203; Quispe Tupa Inga, Joseph Gran, 33
history of, 233; Inca-dominated, 27; Quispicanchi, 41, 51, 53, 55, 78, 101, 192,
independent, 265–266; Lower, 206; 225, 235, 237
multilingual, 148; population of, 203;
postcolonial, 265; revolution in, 24, Rio de la Plata, 25, 94, 101, 179, 189, 190,
255; southern, 101, 207, 243; Spanish 199, 244, 256
rule in, 151, 220, 258; Upper, 6, 15, 19, Rodríguez, Carlos, 1, 18, 77–78, 81
25, 26, 39, 43, 47, 55, 86, 98, 138, 144, Rosas, Nicolás, 121, 131
168–169, 173–175, 177, 186, 190, 194,
199, 205, 227, 260; uprising in, Sahuaraura Titu Atauchi, José Raphael,
168–169, 264; Viceroyalty of, 10, 23, 83, 129, 145, 147; Estado del Perú, 83
38, 162, 193; wealth in, 84 Sahuaraura Titu Atauchi, Pedro Ramos,
Peruano, 253–254 52, 145–146
Pisac, 35, 88, 103, 116, 137; bridge of, 104 Salcedo, Francisco, 207, 216–217,
Pitumarca, 141, 217, 223, 241 221–223, 227–228, 232, 238, 244, 246,
Plaza Mayor, 27, 143, 153, 164, 249 249
Pomacanchi, 43– 44, 54, 59, 234; Indians San Francisco de Borja School, 18, 153
of, 78 Sangarará, 40, 51–54, 58, 60, 64, 68, 73,
Ponce, Ramón, 70, 143, 174–175 74, 78, 85, 86– 88, 96, 125, 145–146,
Potosí, 15, 25, 30, 59, 92, 110, 161, 169, 150, 162; church of, 69, 107; rebels in,
179, 190, 196, 203, 205, 209, 267; mita 54; victory in, 65– 66, 86
to, 2, 4–5, 45; silver mines of, 1, 19, 23, San Pedro de Alcántara, 253–254
26, 38, 86, 168, 177 Santa Rosa (town), 94, 95, 174, 185, 198,
provincias altas, 15, 65, 222 216
Pucacasa, 140, 141–143, 148 Santo Tomás, 72, 138, 143
puka kunka, 33, 55, 61, 106, 176, 199, 235, Saylla, 116, 136
236, 239 Segurola, Sebastián, 226, 232
Pumacahua, Mateo, 73, 96, 104, 107, 116, Sicasica, 171, 172, 199
121, 131, 132, 137–138; forces of, 141, Sicuani, 34, 63, 74, 77, 136, 185, 188,
185, 186; troops of, 106, 149 215, 216–217, 228, 232–233, 244, 247;
Puno, 6, 15, 16, 45, 55, 85, 92– 93, 94, 98, church in, 227; events in, 219; fort of,
108, 143, 144, 174–176, 181, 184, 186, 227; signings in, 220, 222
187, 202, 207–208, 210–211, 226, 256; Sinayuca, 37, 91, 92
attack on, 172; population of, 193; siege Sisa, Bartolina, 172, 206
Sorata, 184, 202, 204–205, 229, 233; siege 65– 85, 86– 88, 91–108, 110–129,
of, 200, 226 130–151, 169–170, 168–179, 180–192,
soroche, 88, 89, 140, 185 198–200, 209, 212, 221, 229, 231–244,
Spain, 19, 23–29, 31, 35, 38, 56, 67, 246–247, 249, 260–266, 267–278;
82– 84, 198, 206, 209, 215, 221, 229, biography of, 5; capture of, 154, 183,
231, 232, 243, 247, 253–255, 259, 198, 202–203, 207, 230, 261; clan of,
263–264, 268–269, 272–273, 275; 227–229, 233, 237, 244, 258, 273; death
deportations to, 260; empire of, 1; of, 166, 170, 172, 180; duties as kuraka,
golden era of literature, 28; northern 1, 18, 183; excommunication of, 9,
African outpost of, 255; Peruvian 68–74; 75– 85, 86– 88, 102, 107, 118,
independence from, 7; role of the 137, 162, 164, 177, 180–192; followers
Church in Spain, 84; trade with, 25; of, 150, 168, 175, 180, 205, 225; inner
wars in Italy, 104; war with England, circle of, 50, 56–57, 131, 146, 152, 163,
194 166, 183, 198, 245, 258; legacy of, 182,
Spanish rule, 2, 5, 13, 33, 38, 47, 109, 267–278; movement of, 35, 41, 50,
148, 151, 161, 164–167, 168, 181, 220, 56–58, 62– 64, 66, 72, 91, 122, 147, 169,
258, 270 181, 203; rebel base of, 27, 35, 45,
Surimana, 13, 18, 21, 27, 81, 101, 115, 54– 61, 73, 86, 102, 107, 110, 112, 116,
154, 161, 166 215–216, 222–223, 227, 234, 241,
247–248; rebels of, 173, 256, 263, 278;
Tapia, don Buenaventura, 79 trial and execution of, 152–167, 181,
Tinta, 2, 26, 34, 35, 47, 52, 55, 57, 58, 63, 192, 196, 203, 207, 209, 247; troops of,
101, 111, 123, 125, 132, 135, 139, 142, 53, 94, 95, 97, 98, 99, 113, 115,
143, 144, 149–151, 153, 155, 161, 166, 116–117, 121, 124, 126, 128, 131,
180, 195, 200, 212, 251; corregidor of, 135–136, 143–144, 149, 177; uprising
216, 221; district of, 18; people of, 185; of, 4–17, 20–23, 29, 31–35, 39, 40– 49,
rebels of, 131, 171 52, 55–58, 61– 64, 66, 68–70, 72–75,
Titicaca, Lake, 6, 7, 8, 10–12, 14–15, 19, 83, 85, 88– 90, 93, 97, 98, 101, 106–107,
48, 49, 76, 86, 91– 92, 95, 97, 140, 111, 113, 118, 123, 128, 130, 132,
168–169, 171–181, 183–191, 196, 198, 136–138, 143, 146, 151–152, 155,
200, 202–203, 205, 206, 208, 218, 220, 157–162, 166, 168–170, 172–174, 179,
224–226, 242, 271; area, 11, 13, 65, 181, 184–185, 189, 256, 264, 277
93– 94, 96, 130, 135, 144, 168, 172–174, Tupac Amaru, Andrés, 182–184,
176, 177, 179–181, 190–191, 196, 202, 200–205, 213, 217, 220, 223, 227–231,
206, 210, 212, 214, 219, 223, 225; 233, 235–242, 244, 247, 253–254, 271
corregidors of, 212, 218; inhabitants of, Tupac Amaru, Cecilia, 182, 211, 215, 244
184; largest city of, 93 Tupac Amaru, Diego Cristóbal, 7, 48,
Tito Condori, Manuela, 217, 222, 244, 115–117, 126, 143, 147, 151, 220–230,
245, 253 257, 262–264, 271; correspondence of,
Toledan Reforms, 163 172–173, 210–211; death of, 199–200,
Toledo, Viceroy, 18, 269–270 207–209, 246–247, 249; defeat of, 105;
Tucumán, 189, 244, 274 forces of, 104, 137–138, 166, 191–192,
Tungasuca, 1–3, 13, 15, 18, 27, 38, 41, 45, 199; as leader of rebellion, 7, 63, 65,
48, 51, 63, 70, 74, 76, 81, 82, 87, 91, 94, 103, 105, 153, 179, 181–185, 187, 189,
98, 99, 100, 102–103, 107, 110, 112, 195, 198; offer of amnesty to, 208–217,
123, 135, 154, 166, 180, 221, 223, 219, 230–234; sentencing of, 245, 249;
232–233, 244, 246; base in, 40, 54– 61, widow of, 253
64, 65, 86, 87; priest of, 52, 61; rebels Tupac Amaru, Fernando, 254
in, 103, 104, 113 Tupac Amaru, Francisco, 165
Tupac Amaru I, 6 Tupac Amaru, Hipólito, 166
Tupac Amaru II, José Gabriel, 1–17, Tupac Amaru, Juan Bautista, 43, 156,
18–19, 21–22, 25–27, 29, 30–39, 40– 64, 157, 221, 250–251, 253–256
Tupac Amaru, Marcos, 182 Valcárcel, Joaquín de, 116, 193–194, 217
Tupac Amaru, Mariano, 21, 99, 151, 153, Velasco Alvarado, Juan, 7, 276
166, 182–184, 201, 210, 220, 227–229, Velille, 74, 75, 112
230–231, 238–242; arrest of, 244; Verdad desnuda o las dos fases de un Obispo,
death of, 254; sentencing of, 253; trial La, 83, 263, 265
of, 247 Verdejo, Diego, 143, 165
Tupac Amaru, Miguel Condorcanqui Verganza, Eusebio Balza de, 37, 83, 263
Usquionsa, 18 Vilca Apaza, Pedro, 143, 181, 186, 200,
Tupac Amaru Revolutionary Movement 224–226
(MRTA), 62, 276 Vilcabamba, 26, 134
Tupac Katari, Andrés Inca, 171–173, Vilcanota River, 103, 104, 141, 142, 149,
175–176, 178, 199, 204–206, 211; 150
background of, 171, 173; camps of, 174; Vilcanota Valley, 15, 49, 65, 68, 73, 86,
commanders of, 191, 204; execution of, 102, 107, 110, 111, 115, 116, 130, 151,
211–215; followers of, 205; forces of, 175, 184, 216, 220, 224, 238, 242, 247,
191, 202–204; movement of, 183, 189, 257; control of, 128; military engage-
204; name of, 171; uprising of, 200 ment in, 142
Tupa Inca (Felipe Velasco Tupa Inca Villalta, Manuel, 87, 140, 149
Yupanqui), 247, 249 Villalva, Simón Ximénez, 108, 261
Tupamaros, 17, 275, 276 Vivas, Antonio, 193, 194
Tupa Orcoguaranca, Juan de Dios, 32–33
War of Independence, Peru, 7, 51, 277
Ugarte, Gaspar de, 193–194, 261–266
Urbiola, don Miguel de, 93– 94 Yanaoca, 1–2, 21, 77; church of, 78;
Urcos, 101, 116, 144, 149, 151, 153, 235 kuraka of, 81
Urcos Bridge, 103, 142, 247 Yauri, 35, 36, 91
Urubamba, 101, 102, 143, 148, 192; bridge
of, 117; river of, 105; valley of, 137 Zuñiga, Esteban, 34