With this welcome reinforcement, he returned to Mexico, as hastily as he came; for he had received from Alvarado the alarming intelligence, that, in consequence of the cruelty of the Spaniards, the inhabitants had risen upon them, killed several, wounded more, and were closely besieging them in their quarters. Cortez, however, was suffered to enter the city unopposed. He was received by his countrymen with transports of joy, but he found that the reverence, with which the Mexicans once regarded him, was gone. The very next day, they attacked him with the utmost fury, and were not repulsed without the greatest difficulty. Two sallies, which the Spaniards afterwards made, were ineffectual. Cortez now resolved to try a new expedient. When the Mexicans approached, the next morning, to renew the assault, they beheld their captive sovereign, who, in his royal robes, advanced to the battlements, and, while every tongue was mute, addressed them in behalf of the Spaniards, and exhorted them to cease from hostilities. For a moment, a profound silence reigned; but the Mexicans had lost the reverence which they bore toward their monarch, and they soon broke out into loud reproaches and execration of his cowardice. A volley of stones and arrows succeeded, one of which struck Montezuma on the temple, and he fell. The Mexicans, seized with horror and remorse at the effects of their rage, fled in terror from the walls. The unhappy king was borne to his apartments by his attendants, who strove to console him for his misfortune; but in vain. Broken-hearted at the disobedience of his subjects, and his own wretched situation, he tore the bandages from his breast, and refused all nourishment, till death speedily terminated his sufferings. After the death of his royal captive, Cortez had no other resource than to retreat at once from the city. He made his preparations with all diligence, and, on the night of the 1st of July, 1520, set out on his march, hoping to withdraw unperceived. But he was fatally mistaken. All his motions were closely watched by the natives, and before he reached the middle of the causeway leading from the city, through the lake, he was suddenly attacked by them, both in front and rear--while from the canoes in the lake showers of arrows were poured upon them from unseen foes. The Spaniards, confounded by the darkness of the night, and the number of their enemies, after a slight resistance, broke, and fled in utter confusion. Many were slain; a number perished in the lake, and some fell into the hands of the enemy. The fate of the last was far the worst--for they were reserved to be sacrificed, with the most cruel tortures, to the gods of the Mexicans.