Man Hath a Memory
X. How the Iron Cross Came Back
XI. The Christian Takes Care of His Own
I. The Lord Hualpa Flees His Fortune
II. Whom the Gods Destroy They First Make Mad
III. The Public Opinion Makes Way
IV. The ’Tzin’s Farewell to Quetzal’
V. The Cells of Quetzal’ Again
VII. How the Holy Mother Helps Her Children
X. The Angel Becomes a Beadswoman
XI. The Public Opinion Proclaims Itself.—Battle
I. The Heart Can Be Wiser Than the Head
II. The Conqueror on the Causeway Again
IV. Montezuma a Prophet.—His Prophecy
VIII. The Battle of the Mantas
IX. Over the Wall,—Into the Palace
XII. In the Interval of the Battle—Love
XIII. The Beginning of the End
XIV. The King Before His People Again
OVER THE BRIDGES, THE HORSEMEN GALLOPED
Note by the Author
A personal experience, though ever so plainly told, is, generally speaking, more attractive to listeners and readers than fiction. A circumstance from the tongue or pen of one to whom it actually happened, or who was its hero or victim, or even its spectator, is always more interesting than if given second-hand. If the makers of history, contradistinguished from its writers, could teach it to us directly, one telling would suffice to secure our lasting remembrance. The reason is, that the narrative so proceeding derives a personality and reality not otherwise attainable, which assist in making way to our imagination and the sources of our sympathy.
With this theory or bit of philosophy in mind, when the annexed book was resolved upon, I judged best to assume the character of a translator, which would enable me to write in the style and spirit of one who not merely lived at the time of the occurrences woven in the text, but was acquainted with many of the historical personages who figure therein, and was a native of the beautiful valley in which the story is located. Thinking to make the descriptions yet more real, and therefore more impressive, I took the liberty of attributing the composition to a literator who, whatever may be thought of his works, was not himself a fiction. Without meaning to insinuate that The Fair God would have been the worse for creation by Don Fernando de Alva, the Tezcucan, I wish merely to say that it is not a translation. Having been so written, however, now that publication is at hand, change is impossible; hence, nothing is omitted,—title-page, introductory, and conclusion are given to the reader exactly as they were brought to the publisher by the author.
L.W.
Boston Mass. August 8, 1873.
THE FAIR GOD.
FROM THE SPANISH OF FERNANDO DE ALVA.
Introductory
Fernando De Alva,1 a noble Tezcucan, flourished, we are told, in the beginning of the sixteenth century. He was a man of great learning, familiar with the Mexican and Spanish languages, and the hieroglyphics of Anahuac. Ambitious to rescue his race from oblivion, and inspired by love of learning, he collected a library, availed himself of his knowledge of picture-writing, became master of the songs and traditions, and, in the Castilian language, composed books of merit.
It was scarcely possible that his labors should escape the researches of Mr. Prescott, who, with such incomparable genius, has given the world a history of the Conquest of Mexico. From him we have a criticism upon the labors of the learned Fernando, from which the following paragraph is extracted.
“Iztlilzochitl’s writings have many of the defects belonging to his age. He often crowds the page with incidents of a trivial and sometimes improbable character. The improbability increases with the distance of the period; for distance, which diminishes objects to the natural eye, exaggerates them to the mental. His chronology,