“ All about the plain lay Englishmen and Zulus, as they had died in the dread struggle:—here side by side, amidst rusted rifles and bent assegais, here their bony arms still locked in the last hug of death, and yonder the Zulu with the white man's bayonet through his skull, the soldier with the Zulu's assegai in what had been his heart. One man was found, who, when his cartridges were spent, and his rifle was broken, had defended himself to the end with a tent-hammer that lay among his bones, and another was stretched beneath the precipice, from the crest of which he had been hurled. ”
Summary
The True Story Book is a collection of historical and adventurous tales, though its author remains unknown. The text combines stories of conflict, discovery, and survival, featuring figures such as Cortés, Montezuma, and the Aztecs, along with narratives about pirates, soldiers, and captives. It powerfully depicts battles between Spaniards and native forces, the desperation of fleeing, and the harshness of conquest, as seen in descriptions of slaughters and blockades.
The work also includes mysterious stories like that of Kaspar Hauser, merging real events with dramatic storytelling. Its themes of empire, defiance, and human resilience are highlighted through striking images of vessels, arms, and the meeting of different cultures, reflecting an emphasis on key moments in history and the individual's struggle within them.
Quotes from The True Story Book ()
“ The priests from the summits of the teocallis heard them, and sounded their shells, while the huge drum upon the desolate temple of the war-god sent forth its solemn sound, which—heard only in seasons of calamity—vibrated through every corner of the capital. The Spaniards saw that there was no time to be lost; the bridge was fitted with all speed, and Sandoval rode across first to try its strength, followed by the first division, then came Cortés with the baggage and artillery, but before he was well over, a sound was heard as of a stormy wind rising in a forest. ”
“ From rock to rock the stream was running a white, furious, rushing torrent, and the little boat tugging and jibbing on her chain, and swinging and bobbing upon the top of the froth, like the leaves which danced upon the eddy. Dreadnought had heard the sound of the river, and knew what there was at work before us. The boat was moored near the throat of the pool, in the back-water of a little bay, now entirely filled with froth and foam up to the gunwale of the coble, which was defended by a sharp point of rock, from whose breakwater the stream was thrown off in a wild shooting torrent. ”
