The night that followed was not much quieter, for, although the Mexicans did not dare to fight, they found ways to set fire to the Spanish buildings and it was only by extraordinary exertions that a general conflagration was prevented. Although exhausted with the struggle and their last night’s labor in extinguishing fires, the Spaniards at daybreak again were at their posts to resist another attack. One bloody assault followed another. It seemed as if the fury of this embittered nation could never be extinguished, although each fresh attempt to storm the Spanish stronghold failed, and Cortes by various methods slaughtered the natives by thousands and devastated a part of their city by fire. Cortes shared the fate of most of his soldiers and was wounded. He was struck by an arrow in the left hand. Thereupon he withdrew to his apartments where undisturbed he might form some plan to extricate himself from his dangerous situation. He had hardly begun gathering his thoughts together when the storm broke out anew at every corner of the quarters, for the Mexicans had now formed in bands for a general assault. He rushed back and found that his presence was never more necessary, for the enemy now was fighting with even greater courage than on the day before, and all his alertness and skill were required to make the necessary defence at every place. When the battle was at its height, the unfortunate Montezuma decided—some say voluntarily, others say at the request of the Spaniards—to make an attempt to stop this bloodshed by showing himself in person to his raging subjects and reminding them of their reverential duty to him. He put on his imperial mantle, placed the regent crown on his head, and adorned himself with the wealth of jewels which he had been accustomed to wear on state occasions. Thus arrayed, he went, in company with some leading Mexicans, to the Spanish stronghold. One of these mounted the wall and announced to the furious multitude that their sovereign had arrived and that he was ready to listen to their grievances and end hostilities with the strangers, his guests. At the mention of his name the battle ceased and respectful silence followed. Thereupon the unfortunate monarch himself mounted the wall. All bowed in reverence, some fell upon their knees and kissed the ground. Glancing over the multitude, Montezuma sought out the leaders and, after thanking them for their expressions of devotion, assured them they were wrong in supposing he was a prisoner. He had only remained so long among his guests that he might acquaint himself with their customs, and show his respect for the mighty ruler whose representatives they were. As he was now about to leave them he implored his people to lay down their arms and return to their homes.