When an 11-year-old boy led Hiram Bingham to Machu Picchu in 1911
- U I Team
- Jul 24, 2019
- 4 min read
High in the rugged folds of the Peruvian Andes lies one of the world’s most recognisable archaeological sites: Machu Picchu. Often draped in drifting mountain mist, this enigmatic citadel has become emblematic of Inca engineering and imperial ambition. Built during the reign of Emperor Pachacuti in the mid-15th century, Machu Picchu is widely believed to have served as a royal estate or ceremonial retreat rather than a bustling city. Remarkably sophisticated stonework, agricultural terraces, and religious shrines were all crafted with the polished precision that characterised classical Inca architecture.
Yet for all its fame today, Machu Picchu’s passage into the global spotlight remains entangled in myth and controversy, much of it centred on an American academic who did not so much discover the site as make it famous.
Before Bingham: The Locals and the Spanish
Long before any foreign academic arrived with cameras and notebooks, Machu Picchu was familiar ground for local Quechua farmers who farmed its terraces and grazed animals along its slopes. Oral traditions and folk histories sustained its memory, even as the Spanish conquest of the 16th century brought upheaval and devastation to the Inca world. Though it is unclear how much the conquistadors knew of the citadel tucked within dense cloud forest, there is little evidence that they ever occupied or plundered it as they did with so many other Inca sites.
The Arrival of Hiram Bingham
In the early 20th century, Hiram Bingham III, a lecturer at Yale University and an ambitious explorer at heart, was on a very different mission. In 1909, returning from a scientific congress in Santiago, Chile, Bingham accepted an invitation to visit Choquequirao, another ruin linked to the Incas’ last stand against the Spanish. This glimpse of Inca stonework stirred his imagination and set him on a path to find what he believed was the final stronghold of the Inca resistance: the elusive lost city of Vilcabamba.
Armed with enthusiasm but no formal archaeological training, Bingham organised the Yale Peruvian Expedition of 1911. His journey down the turbulent Urubamba River, guided in large part by local knowledge, was less the tale of a lone explorer cutting through an uncharted jungle and more the outcome of asking the right questions of people who had always lived there.
A Farmer, a Boy, and a Supposed Lost City
At Mandor Pampa, near the base of Huayna Picchu, Bingham encountered Melchor Arteaga, a local farmer familiar with the ruins perched atop the mountain ridge. Arteaga agreed to guide Bingham up the steep slopes, crossing the Urubamba and clambering through thick forest to reach the stone terraces.
When they arrived, Bingham found not an untouched wilderness but a landscape partially cleared and farmed by a local family. Their young son, Pablito, only eleven at the time, became Bingham’s first guide among the vine-draped walls and temples. The boy led him along stone steps and sun-warmed plazas that had lain hidden from foreign eyes but remained in the hands of local families.
Bingham’s initial impressions were mixed. Much of Machu Picchu was swathed in undergrowth, and without a full survey, he could not appreciate its extent. He quickly concluded it was not Vilcabamba — a hasty assessment that, ironically, was accurate. Pressing on up the Vilcabamba River, Bingham did locate Vitcos, the rebel capital he sought, and recorded other ruins such as Chuquipalta and Eromboni Pampa (later identified as Vilcabamba Viejo by Gene Savoy in the 1960s).
Clearing the Ruins and Shaping a Legend
Returning to the United States, Bingham drummed up funding and support from Yale and the National Geographic Society. By 1912 he was back, this time supervising extensive clearing and excavation of Machu Picchu. Hundreds of local workers laboured to strip away centuries of jungle growth, gradually revealing temples, houses, astronomical observatories, and burial sites — a breathtaking tableau of Inca civilisation at its zenith.
Bingham’s expeditions extracted thousands of artefacts, ostensibly for study and preservation. Pottery, jewellery, bones, and ceremonial objects were boxed up and shipped to Yale. Though agreements were made for their return, disputes over these cultural treasures simmered for a century, with Peru arguing that its heritage had been looted rather than safeguarded.
Fact and Fiction in Bingham’s Story
Despite his enduring fame, Bingham’s narrative of discovery is riddled with embellishments. He often painted himself as the indefatigable explorer who hacked through jungle to reach an unspoilt citadel, hidden from human eyes for centuries. Letters and later accounts tell a less romantic story: trails existed, local people led him there, and some terraces were actively farmed when he arrived. His own son, Alfred Bingham, candidly admitted that his father spent only a brief afternoon at Machu Picchu at first, dismissing it before realising its value to his legacy.
Moreover, Bingham misidentified Machu Picchu as Vilcabamba Viejo, conflating the well-planned imperial estate with the true final refuge of the Incas, which was built hastily during their flight from the Spanish. Later archaeological scholarship has corrected many of his assumptions, deepening our understanding of Inca architecture, astronomy, and political life.
A Contested Heritage
The story of Machu Picchu’s ‘discovery’ remains a cautionary tale of Western academic ambition overshadowing indigenous knowledge and stewardship. While Bingham’s expeditions certainly brought the citadel to international prominence, they also fuelled debates over cultural appropriation, scientific colonialism, and the rights of descendant communities.
Today, Machu Picchu stands not just as a symbol of Inca ingenuity but also as a testament to the enduring presence of the Andean people who never forgot it. Declared a UNESCO World Heritage Site in 1983, it welcomes thousands of visitors daily — a fragile treasure balancing preservation with the pressures of global tourism.
In the end, Machu Picchu was never lost. It simply waited for the world to notice what the locals always knew: that in the high places of the Andes, the stones still remember an empire.
Sources
Bingham, H. Lost City of the Incas
Savoy, G. Antisuyo: The Search for the Lost Cities of the Amazon
UNESCO World Heritage Centre: whc.unesco.org/en/list/274
National Geographic Society archives: nationalgeographic.org
Yale Peabody Museum archives: peabody.yale.edu
