Cortés at last drew off his men and sounded a retreat, taking refuge in the fortress. The Mexicans encamped round it, and during the night insulted the besieged, shouting, "The gods have at last delivered you into our hands: the stone of sacrifice is ready: the knives are sharpened."
Cortés now felt that he had not fully understood the character of the Mexicans. The patience and submission formerly shown in deference to the injured Montezuma was now replaced by concentrated arrogance and ferocity. The Spanish general even stooped to request the interposition of the Aztec Emperor; and, at last, when assured that the foreigners would leave his country if a way were opened through the Mexican army he agreed to use his influence. For this purpose
he put on his imperial robes; his mantle of white and blue flowed over his shoulders, held together by its rich clasp of the green chalchivitl. The same precious gem, with emeralds of uncommon size, set in gold, profusely ornamented other parts of his dress. His feet were shod with the golden sandals, and his brows covered with the Mexican diadem, resembling in form the pontifical tiara. Thus attired and surrounded by a guard of Spaniards, and several Aztec nobles, and preceded by the golden wand, the symbol of sovereignty, the Indian monarch ascended the central turret of the palace.
At the sight of Montezuma all the Mexican army became silent, partly, no doubt, from curiosity. He assured them that he was no prisoner; that the strangers were his friends, and would leave Mexico of their own accord as soon as a way was opened.
To call himself a friend of the hateful Spaniards was a fatal argument. Instead of respecting their monarch, though in his official robes, the populace howled angry curses at him as a degenerate Aztec, a coward, no longer a warrior or even a man!
A cloud of missiles was hurled at Montezuma, and he was struck to the ground by the blow of a stone on his head. The unfortunate monarch only survived his wounds for a few days, disdaining to take any nourishment, or to receive advice from the Spanish priests.
Meanwhile, Cortés and his army met with an unexpected danger. A large body of the Indian warriors had taken possession of the great temple, at a short distance from the Spanish quarters. From this commanding position they kept shooting a deadly flight of arrows on the Spaniards. Cortés sent his chamberlain, Escobar, with a body of men to storm the temple, but, after three efforts, the party had to relinquish the attempt. Cortés himself then led a storming party, and after some determined fighting reached the platform at the top of the temple where the two sanctuaries of the Aztec deities stood. This large area was now the scene of a desperate battle, fought in sight of the whole capital as well as of the Spanish troops still remaining in the courtyard.
This struggle between such deadly enemies caused dreadful carnage on both sides:
The edge of the area was unprotected by parapet or battlement; and the combatants, as they struggled in mortal agony, were sometimes seen to roll over the sheer sides of the precipice together. Cortés himself had a narrow escape from this dreadful fate.... The number of the enemy was double that of the Christians; but the invulnerable armor of the Spaniard, his sword of matchless temper, and his skill in the use of it, gave him advantages which far outweighed the odds of physical strength and numbers.