When Cortés was within fifteen leagues' distance of Zempoalla, where Narvaez was encamped, the latter sent a message that if his authority were acknowledged he would supply ships to Cortés and his army so that all who wished might freely leave the country with all their property.
Cortés, however, with his usual astuteness, replied: "If Narvaez bears a royal commission I will readily submit to him. But he has produced none. He is a deputy of my rival, Velasquez. For myself, I am a servant of the King; I have conquered the country for him; and for him I and my brave followers will defend it to the last drop of our blood. If we fall it will be glory enough to have perished in the discharge of our duty."
Narvaez and his army were meantime spending their time frivolously; and when the actual attack was begun in the dead of night, under a pouring rain-storm, it appeared that only two sentinels were on guard. Narvaez, badly wounded, was taken prisoner on the top of a teocalli; and in a very short time his army was glad to capitulate. The horse-soldiers whom Narvaez had sent to waylay one of the roads to Zempoalla, rode in soon after to tender their submission. The victorious general, seated in a chair of state, with a richly embroidered Mexican mantle on his shoulders, received his congratulations from the officers and soldiers of both armies. Narvaez and several others were led in chains.
Cortés not only defeated Narvaez, but, after the battle, enlisted under his standard the Spanish soldiers who had been sent to attack him—reminding one of the "magnetism" of Hannibal or Napoleon, and the consequent enthusiasm caused by mere presence, looks, and words.
Before the rejoicings were finished, however, tidings were brought to Cortés from the Mexican capital that the whole city was in a state of revolt against Alvarado. On his march back to the great plateau Cortés found the inhabitants of Tlascala still friendly and willing to assist as allies in the struggle against their ancient foes, the Mexicans. On reaching the camp of the Spaniards in Mexico, Cortés found that Alvarado had provoked the insurrection by a massacre of the Aztec populace.
Having entered the precincts with his army, Cortés at once made anxious preparations for the siege which was threatened by the Aztecs, now assembling in thousands.
As the assailants approached "they set up a hideous yell, or rather that shrill whistle used in fight by the nations of Anahuac," accompanied by the sound of shell and atabal and their other rude instruments of wild music. This was followed by a tempest of missiles, stones, darts, and arrows. The Spaniards waited until the foremost column had arrived within distance, when a general discharge of artillery and muskets swept the ranks of the assailants. Never till now had the Mexicans witnessed the murderous power of these formidable engines. At first they stood aghast, but soon rallying, they rushed forward over the prostrate bodies of their comrades.
Pressing on, some of them tried to scale the parapet, while others tried to force a breach in it. When the parapet proved too strong they shot burning arrows upon the wooden outworks.
Next day there were continually fresh supplies of warriors added to the forces of the assailants, so that the danger of the situation was greatly increased. Diaz, an onlooker, thus wrote:
The Mexicans fought with such ferocity that if we had been assisted by 10,000 Hectors and as many Orlandos, we should have made no impression on them. There were several of our troops who had served in the Italian wars, but neither there nor in the battles with the Turks had they ever seen anything like the desperation shown by these Indians.