of whom Gomara speaks, was the glorious Santiago or San Pedro, and I,
as a sinner, was not worthy to see him; but he whom I saw there and
knew, was Francisco de Morla on a chestnut horse, who came up with
Cortes. And it seems to me that now while I am writing this, the whole
war is represented before these sinful eyes, just in the manner as we
then went through it. And though I, as an unworthy sinner, might not
deserve to see either of these glorious apostles, there were in our
company above four hundred soldiers, and Cortes, and many other
knights; and it would have been talked of and testified, and they
would have made a church, when they peopled the town, which would have
been called Santiago de la Vittoria, or San Pedro de la Vittoria, as
it is now called, Santa Maria de la Vittoria. And if it was, as Gomara
says, bad Christians must we have been, when our Lord God sent us his
holy apostles, not to acknowledge his great mercy, and venerate his
church daily. And would to God, it had been, as the Chronicler
says!--but till I read his Chronicle, I never heard such a thing from
any of the conquerors who were there.

Now, what if the odd accident of such a man as Bernal Dias' writing a
history had not taken place! Gomara's account, the account of a
contemporary, which yet must have been read by scores who were present,
would have remained uncontradicted. I remember the story of a man, whom
the devil met and talked with, but left at a particular lane;--the man
followed him with his eyes, and when the devil got to the turning or
bend of the lane, he vanished! The devil was upon this occasion drest in
a blue coat, plush waistcoat, leather breeches and boots, and talked and
looked just like a common man, except as to a particular lock of hair
which he had. "And how do you know then that it was the devil?"--"How do
I know," replied the fellow,--"why, if it had not been the devil, being
drest as he was, and looking as he did, why should I have been sore