In this account of the naval aspect of Hernando Cortés's invasion of the Aztec Empire, C. Harvey Gardiner has added another dimension to the drama of Spanish conquest of the New World and to Cortés himself as a military strategist. The use of ships, in the climactic moment of the Spanish-Aztec clash, which brought about the fall of Tenochtitlán and consequently of all of Mexico, though discussed briefly in former English-language accounts of the struggle, had never before been detailed and brought into a perspective that reveals its true significance. Gardiner, on the basis of previously unexploited sixteenth-century source materials, has written a historical revision that is as colorful as it is authoritative.

Four centuries before the term was coined, Cortés, in the key years of 1520–1521, used the technique of "total war." He was able to do so victoriously primarily because of his courage in taking a gamble and his brilliance in tactical planning, but these qualities might well have signified nothing without the fortunate presence in his forces of a master shipwright, Martin López.

As the exciting story unrolls, Cortés, López, and the many other participants in the venture of creating and using a navy in the midst of the New World mountains and forests are seen as real personalities, not embalmed historical stereotypes, and the indigenous defenders are revealed as complex human beings facing huge odds. Much of the tale is told in the actual words of the protagonists; Gardiner has probed letters, court records, and other contemporary documents. He has also compared this naval feat of the Spaniards with other maritime events from ancient times to the present.

Naval Power in the Conquest of Mexico as a book was itself the result of an interesting combination of circumstances. C. Harvey Gardiner, as teacher, scholar, and writer, had long been interested in Latin American history generally and Mexican history in particular. During World War II, from 1942 to 1946, he served with the U.S. Navy. As he relates: "One day in early autumn 1945, while loafing on the bow of a naval vessel knifing its way southward in the Pacific a few degrees north of the Equator, my thoughts turned to the naval side of the just-ended conflict, and in time the question emerged, 'I wonder how the little ships and the little men will fare in the eventual record?' Then, because I was eager to return to my civilian life of pursuit of Latin American themes, the concomitant question came: 'I wonder what little fighting ships and minor men of early Latin America have been consigned to the oblivion of historical neglect?' As I began later to rummage my way from Columbus toward modem times, I seized upon the Mexican Conquest as the prime period with pay dirt for the researcher in quest of the answer to that latter question."

This biography of a distinguished historian and man of letters is the first study of William Hickling Prescott (1796–1859) to be written by a historian who has worked with the very themes explored by Prescott. And it is the first to treat him not only as creative historian but also as family man, as traveler and clubman, as investor and humanitarian, and as private citizen with strong political preferences.

Prescott the socialite and Prescott the introvert writer emerge in the round as the magnificent amateur who helped establish canons that have enriched American historical scholarship ever since. Blending history and literature, his multivolume works won Prescott the first significant international reputation to be accorded to an American historian.

Working despite persistent obstacles of health and against a penchant for society and leisure that was always part of his personality, Prescott came to be considered the finest interpreter of the Hispanic world produced by the Anglo-Saxon world. His Conquest of Mexico and Conquest of Peru were pronounced classics.

C. Harvey Gardiner takes the reader back to the nineteenth century in style and in subject to present William Hickling Prescott, gentleman and scholar, firmly fixed in relationship to his community and his times. But Gardiner's Victorian stance and respect for nineteenth-century historiography do not prevent his presenting Prescott as a whole man, viewed in retrospect, stripped of myth, and evaluated for moderns.