Pedro Sarmiento de Gamboa's History of the Incas, translated and edited by Sir Clements Markham for the Hakluyt Society in 1907, is a colonial-era chronicle that purports to trace Inca rulers from mythical origins to the Spanish arrival. The catalog subjects—Incas, Tupac Amaru, Peru—are broadly accurate, but the excerpts reveal a text preoccupied with dynastic succession, military campaigns, and divine kingship, rather than the full social or economic fabric of Inca life. Sarmiento, writing in 1572 under Spanish commission, frames Inca history as a series of tyrannical usurpations, yet the narrative voice also incorporates indigenous fables and boasts of conquest, creating a layered document where European and Andean perspectives compete.
A Colonial Chronicler's Double Vision
Sarmiento's text opens with a dedicatory letter to King Philip II and a table of contents that lists chapters on the “fable of the origin” of the Incas and their “tyrannize over the lands.” This framing signals a dual purpose: to record indigenous history while justifying Spanish rule. The excerpts show Sarmiento alternating between reporting Inca origin myths—such as the “fable of the second age”—and recounting battles like Pachacuti’s victory over the Chancas. The chronicler does not simply dismiss native accounts; he preserves them in detail, even as he labels them “blind opinions.” This tension between recording and condemning is central to the work. Readers should note that the text is not a neutral history but a product of its colonial context, where Sarmiento’s judgments and the Inca voices he transmits coexist uneasily.
Pachacuti: The Earth-Shaker in the Excerpts
The most vivid excerpted episode concerns Inca Yupanqui, later called Pachacuti (“over-turner of the earth”), who defeats the Chancas at Ichu-pampa. The narrative is rich with specific details: the messenger Quillis-cachi Urco Huaranca presents spoils to Viracocha Inca, who refuses to tread on them, preferring his son Inca Urco. The messenger’s “furious words” and the subsequent second battle show a court riven by pride and ambition. Pachacuti’s reply to the Chanca envoy—calling himself “a child of the Sun and guardian of Cuzco”—illustrates how Inca rulers claimed divine mandate. These passages, drawn from chapters XXVII and XXVIII, are the most concrete in the excerpts, offering a window into Sarmiento’s narrative style: dramatic, speech-filled, and focused on individual heroism. Yet the excerpts provide no context for Pachacuti’s broader reforms or the empire’s administration.
Catalog Subjects vs. Textual Evidence
The catalog lists “Incas — History,” “Tupac Amaru, Inca, -1571,” and “Indians of South America — Peru — History.” The excerpts, however, mention neither Tupac Amaru nor the Spanish conquest. Instead, they concentrate on pre-Columbian dynastic struggles, especially the Chanca war. The subject “Peru — History — To 1548” is partially supported, but the text’s focus on Inca rulers rather than Spanish contact is notable. The catalog also omits the work’s editorial apparatus: Markham’s introduction, notes, and the Hakluyt Society’s scholarly framing. Readers should be aware that the excerpts represent only a fraction of the 73,433-word text, and the full work likely includes material on later Incas and Spanish interactions. The catalog subjects are accurate but incomplete, failing to capture the chronicle’s colonial perspective and its blend of myth and military history.
Readers approaching Sarmiento’s History of the Incas should treat it as a primary source for Spanish colonial historiography as much as for Inca history. The excerpts highlight dramatic battles and royal succession, but the full text likely contains more on ritual, administration, and the Spanish encounter. Pay attention to Markham’s editorial notes, which may clarify Sarmiento’s sources and biases. This edition is best read alongside other chronicles, such as those by Garcilaso de la Vega or Cieza de León, to compare how different authors shaped the Inca past.
I remember the first time a book made me feel the weight of a vanished world—not lost, exactly, but translated into someone else's tidy grammar. This Inca chronicle, with its kings and wars, reminded me of opening the old Manual of Style Governing Composition and Proof Reading in the Government Printing Office — Background and Themes. Both felt like holding a key to a room I'd never enter, only glimpse.