gan to spread through the ranks. Reproaches and threats succeeded.
Indignation now overtopped all barriers, and a shower of stones and
arrows suddenly fell upon the unhappy monarch. Cortez had taken the
precaution to send a body-guard upon the wall with Montezuma, with
bucklers for his protection; but so sudden and unexpected was the
assault, that two arrows pierced his body, and a stone, striking him
on the temple, felled him senseless to the ground before they could
raise their shields. This was the last drop in the cup of bitterness
which Montezuma was doomed to drain. The wounded monarch was conveyed
to his apartment, crushed in spirit, and utterly broken-hearted.
Finally, resolved no longer to live, he tore the bandages from his
wounds, and refused all nourishment. Silent, and brooding over his
terrible calamities, he lingered, the picture of dejection and woe,
for a few days, until he died.

In the mean time the battle was resumed with all its fury. Throughout
the day it raged with the most intense ferocity. The Mexicans took
possession of a high tower which commanded the Spanish quarters. It
was necessary to dislodge them at any sacrifice. A detachment of
chosen men was three times repulsed in its desperate assault. Cortez,
aware that the safety of the army depended upon the result, ordered a
buckler to be bound to his arm, as he could not grasp it with his
wounded hand, and placed himself at the head of the attacking column.
Animated by his voice and example, the Spaniards forced their way up
the steps of the temple, driving the Mexicans before them. Having
reached the spacious platform on the summit, a terrible strife
ensued. Two young Mexican nobles resolved to effect the destruction of
Cortez by the sacrifice of their own lives. They seized him, dragged
him to the battlements, and threw themselves over while clinging to
his person, that they might thus dash him also upon the pavement
beneath. But Cortez, by his wonderful strength and agility, shook them
off, and thus broke from their grasp, though they both perished. The
victorious Spaniards then set fire to the tower. Other sorties were
made during the day, and the wretched city was as the crater of a
volcano of flame and blood. The energies of both parties seemed to
redouble with despair.

At last another night spread its veil over the infuriated combatants.
In its darkest watches, the indomitable Cortez made a sortie at the
head of a strong band, and set