Taking with him his eldest son and heir, Don Martin, the child of Donna Marina, then but eight years of age, and leaving behind him the rest of his family, he embarked in 1540 again to return to his native land. The emperor was absent, but Cortez was received by the court and by the nation with the highest testimonials of respect. Courtesy was lavished upon him, but he could obtain nothing more. For a year the unhappy old man pleaded his cause, while daily the victim of hope deferred. He might truly have said with Cardinal Wolsey, "Had I but served my God with half the zeal I served my king, he would not in mine age Have left me naked to mine enemies." Cortez soon found himself neglected and avoided. His importunities became irksome. Two or three years of disappointment and gloom passed heavily away, when, in 1544, Cortez addressed a last and a touching letter to the emperor. "I had hoped," writes the world-weary old man, "that the toils of my youth would have secured me repose in my old age. For forty years I have lived with but little sleep, with bad food, and with weapons of war continually at my side. I have endured all peril, and spent my substance in exploring distant and unknown regions, that I might spread abroad the name of my sovereign, and extend his sway over powerful nations. This I have done without aid from home, and in the face of those who thirsted for my blood. I am now aged, infirm, and overwhelmed with debt." He concluded this affecting epistle by beseeching the emperor to "order the Council of the Indies, with the other tribunals which had cognizance of his suits, to come to a decision, since I am too old to wander about like a vagrant, but ought rather, during the brief remainder of my life, to remain at home and settle my account with heaven, occupied with the concerns of my soul rather than with my substance." His appeal was unavailing. For three more weary years he lingered about the court, hoping, in the midst of disappointments and intermittent despair, to attain his ends. But at last all hope expired, and the poor old man, with shattered health and a crushed spirit, prepared to return to Mexico in gloom and obscurity to die. He had proceeded as far as Seville, when, overcome by debility and dejection, he could go no farther. It was soon apparent to all that his last hour was at hand. The dying man, with mind still vigorous, immediately executed his will. This long document is quite characteristic of its author. He left nine children, five of whom were born out of wedlock. He remembered them all affectionately in his paternal bequests.