I.3.1 DIGITAL ARCHIVE 1084678
In this letter to King Philip II of Spain, Lope de Aguirre (c. 1510–1561)—a Spanish conquistador of Basque extraction who is best remembered for his extreme brutality and treachery in colonial Spanish America as well as for being one of the first Spaniards to identify himself as an American—condemns the monarch for his alleged cruelty to his vassals in the Americas and declares himself free of any allegiances to the Crown. After spending many years in Peru, in 1560 Aguirre joined Pedro de Ursúa’s expedition along the Marañón and Amazon rivers in search of El Dorado, the legendary city of gold. The following year, he participated in the killing of de Ursúa and eventually overthrew de Ursúa’s successor, Fernando de Guzmán. Aguirre and his followers also seized the island of Margarita and persuaded 186 captains and soldiers to sign an act proclaiming him prince of Peru, Chile, and Terra Firma (now Panama). Aguirre was captured eventually and killed in October 1561. The following translation is by Tom Holloway (History Department, Cornell University, Ithaca, NY), from the version “Carta de Lope de Aguirre, el Peregrino, al Rey Felipe II, hijo de Carlos el Invencible,” published in Spanish [A. Arellano, ed., Documentos para la historia económica de Venezuela (Caracas: Universidad Central de Venezuela, 1961)].
To King Philip, the Spaniard, son of Charles the Invincible:
From Lope de Aguirre, your lesser vassal, old Christian, of middling parents but fortunately of noble blood, native of the Basque country of the Kingdom of Spain, citizen of the town of Oñate.
IN MY YOUTH I CROSSED THE SEA to the land of Peru to gain fame, lance in hand, and to fulfill the obligation of all good men. In 24 years I have done you great service in Peru, in conquests of the Indian, in founding towns, and especially in battles and encounters fought in your name, always to the best of my power and ability, without requesting of your officials pay nor assistance, as can be seen in your royal records.
I firmly believe, most excellent King and lord, that to me, and my companions, you have been nothing but cruel and ungrateful. I also believe that those who write to you from this land deceive you, because of the great distance.
I demand of you, King, that you do justice and right by the good vassals you have in this land, even though I and my companions (whose names I will give later), unable to suffer further cruelties of your judges, viceroy, and governors, have resolved to obey you no longer. Denaturalizing ourselves from our land, Spain, we make the most cruel war against you that our power can sustain and endure. Believe, King and lord, we have done this because we can no longer tolerate the great oppression and unjust punishments of your ministers who, to make places for their sons and dependents have usurped and robbed our fame, life, and honor. It is a pity, King, the bad treatment you have given us.
I am lame in the right leg from the harquebus wounds I received in the battle of Chuquinga, fighting with marshal Alonzo de Alvarado, answering your call against Francisco Hernández Girón, rebel from your service as I and my companions are presently and will be until death, because we in this land now know how cruel you are, how you break your faith and your word, and thus we in this land give your promises less credence than to the books of Martin Luther.
Your viceroy, the marquis of Cañete, hanged Martin de Robles, a man distinguished in your service; and the brave Tomás Vásquez, conquistador of Peru; and the ill fated Alonso Dias, who worked more in the discoveries of this kingdom than the scouts of Moses in the desert; and Piedrahita, a good captain who fought many battles in your service. In Pucara, they gave you victory, and if they had not, Francisco Hernández would now be the King of Peru. . . .
Look here, King of Spain! Do not be cruel and ungrateful to your vassals, because while your father and you stayed in Spain without the slightest bother, your vassals, at the price of their blood and fortune, have given you all the kingdoms and holdings you have in these parts. Beware, King and lord, that you cannot take, under the title of legitimate king, any benefit from this land where you risked nothing, without first giving due gratification to those who have labored and sweated in it.
I am certain there are few kings in hell because there are few kings, but if there were many none would go to heaven. Even in hell you would be worse than Lucifer, because you all thirst after human blood. But I don’t marvel nor make much of you. For certain, I and my 200 arquebus-bearing marañones, conquistadores and nobles, swear solemnly to God that we will not leave a minister of yours alive, because I already know how far your clemency reaches. Today we consider ourselves the luckiest men alive, because we are in these parts of the Indies, with faith in God’s commandments full and uncorrupted as Christians, maintaining all that is preached by the holy mother church of Rome, and we intend, though sinners in life, to achieve martyrdom through God’s commandments.
Upon leaving the Amazon River, called the Marañón, on an island inhabited by Christians called Margarita, I saw some reports from Spain regarding the great schism of Lutherans there, which caused us to be frightened and surprised. In our company was a German named Monteverde [Grünberg], and I ordered him cut to pieces. Destiny rewards the prudent. Believe this, excellent Prince: Wherever we are, we ensure that all live perfectly in Christian faith.
The dissolution of the priests is so great in these parts that I think it would be well that they feel your wrath and punishment, because there is now none among them who sees himself as less than governor. Look here, King! Do not believe what they might tell you, because the tears that they shed before your royal person is so that they can come here to command. If you want to know the life they lead here, it is to deal with merchandise, seek and acquire temporal goods, and sell the Sacraments of the Church for a price. They are enemies of the poor, uncharitable, ambitious, gluttonous, arrogant, so that even the lowest of the priests tries to command and govern all these lands. Correct this, King and lord, because from these things and bad examples faith is not impressed on the natives. Furthermore, if this dissolution of the priests is not stopped, there will be no shortage of scandal.
. . .
The friars do not want to bury poor Indians, and they are lodged in the best estates in Peru. The life they lead is bitter and burdensome, as each one has as a penance a dozen young women in the kitchen, and as many boys engaged in fishing, hunting partridges, and bringing fruit! They get a share of everything. In Christian faith I swear, King and lord, that if you do not remedy the evils of this land, divine punishment will come upon you. I tell you this to let you know the truth, even though I and mine neither expect nor want mercy from you. Oh how sad that a great Caesar and Emperor, your father, should conquer with the power of Spain the great Germany, and should spend so much money from these Indies discovered by us, and that you should not concern yourself with our old age and weariness enough to provide for our daily bread.
. . .
In the year 1559 the marquis of Cañete entrusted the expedition of the river of the Amazons to Pedro de Ursúa, Navarrese, or rather, Frenchman. He delayed the building of the boats until the year 1560 in the province of Motilones, in Peru. The Indians are called Motilones because they wear their hair shaved. These boats were made in the wet country, and upon launching most of them came to pieces. We made rafts, left the horses and supplies, and took off down the river at great risk to our persons. We then encountered the most powerful rivers of Peru, and it seemed to us to be a fresh water sea. We traveled 300 leagues from the point of launching.
This bad governor was so perverse and vicious and miserable that we could not tolerate it, and it was impossible to put up with his evil ways. Since I have a stake in the matter, excellent King and lord, I will say only that we killed him; certainly [in the briefest way]. We then raised a young gentleman from Seville named Don Fernando de Guzmán to be our king, and we made an oath to him as such, as your royal person will see from the signatures of all those who were in this, who remain in the island Margarita, in these Indies. They appointed me their field commander, and because I did not consent to their insults and evil deeds they tried to kill me, and I killed the new king, the captain of his guard, the lieutenant-general, his [butler], his chaplain, a woman in league against me, a knight of Rhodes, an admiral, two ensigns, and six other of their allies. It was my intention to carry this war through and die in it, for the cruelties your Ministers practice on us, and I again appointed captains and a sergeant major. They tried to kill me, and I hanged them.
We went along our route down the Marañón River while all these killing and bad events were taking place. It took us ten and a half months to reach the mouth of the river, where it enters the sea. We traveled a good hundred days, and traveled 1,500 leagues. It is a large and fearsome river, with 80 leagues of fresh water at the mouth. It is very deep, and for 800 leagues along its banks it is deserted, with no towns, as your majesty will see from the true report we have made. Along the route we took there are more than 6,000 islands. God only knows how we escaped from such a fearsome lake! I advise you, King and lord, not to attempt to allow a fleet to be sent to this ill-fated river, because in Christian faith I swear, King and lord, that if a hundred thousand men come none will escape, because the stories are false and in this river there is nothing but despair, especially for these newly arrived from Spain.
. . . We pray to God our Lord that your fortune ever be increased against the Turk and the Frenchman, and all others who wish to make war on you in those parts. In these, God grant that we might obtain with your arms the reward by right due us, but which you have denied.
Son of your loyal Basque vassals, and I, rebel until death against you for your ingratitude.
LOPE DE AGUIRRE, THE WANDERER