tt to say: "In short, the elements of truth and falsehood
became so blended that history was converted into romance, and romance
received the credit due to history." The confusion of fact and fiction
in the writings of Spanish historians, as they are called, is so grave
and obvious as simply to disgust the honest seeker after truth. This is
the case not only as relating to Mexico, but the past story of Spain
both at home and abroad. "What is history," says the first Napoleon,
"but a fable agreed upon?"

The horrid pictures of human sacrifice as represented by the Spanish
chroniclers, also by the letters and despatches of Cortez, we do not
credit, though undoubtedly they had some foundation in truth. It is the
characteristic of all these records to persistently distort facts so as
to further the purposes of the writers, and as to correctness where
figures are concerned, they are scarcely ever to be relied upon. Though
forced to admit this want of veracity, Prescott has relied almost
entirely upon these sources for the material of his popular work. No
person can calmly survey the field to-day, compare the statements of the
various authors, and visit the country itself, without seeing clearly
how much of absurd exaggeration and monstrous fiction has been foisted
upon the reading public relative to this period of the conquest of
Mexico.

"These chroniclers," says Bancroft, "were swayed like other writers of
their time, and all other times, by the spirit of the age, and by
various religious, political, and personal prejudices."

"I lay little stress upon Spanish testimonies," says Adair, "for time
and ocular proof have convinced us of the labored falsehood of almost
all their historical narrations."

At the advent of the Spaniards, Cholula was doubtless the commercial
centre of the plain; Puebla, the now large and thriving capital of the
state, was then a mere hamlet in comparison. It was also the Mecca of
the Aztecs, who came from far and near to bow down before Quetzalcoatl.
The grand public square or plaza is still extant where Cortez
perpetrated his most outrageous act of butchery, killing, it is said,
three thousand Cholulans who had assembled unarmed and in good faith, in
compliance with his request. Everything in and about this spacious area
seems strangely silent and dilapidated, as though stricken by decay. The
present interest and attraction of the place exists almost solely in
the pyramid and the tragic legend