Cortes now felt that everything depended upon himself. His men were doomed to perish, unless something could be done. Though suffering from his wound, he determined upon another effort, and resolved to take the command himself. At the head of his troops, he pressed toward the temple. Barriers were placed in his way, stones and arrows were showered upon him; still he pressed on. Unfortunately, when he reached the court of the temple, he found that the cavalry, upon which he principally relied, could not be used; the horses continually slipped, and fell upon the pavement. The Indians annoyed them in every way. Together with their arrows and darts, they hurled upon them burning beams of wood, which threw them into great confusion. Cortes now dismounted, and ordering his men to bind his shield to his wounded arm, rushed to the attack, calling to them to follow him. His example inspired them. The Spaniards rushed on with resistless force. Gradually working their way up the steps, they at length reached the platform, and drove the Mexicans to the upper area of the temple. Here the battle raged furiously for three hours. The priests were there, calling frantically upon the gods, and screaming to the people, and these contested every inch of the way with the desperate Spaniards. The carnage was awful. The warriors were all killed upon the spot, or destroyed themselves by leaping from the tower. The nobles perished to a man. Cortes at last gained the tower, when there was no living being to defend it. He instantly set fire to it, and then commenced his retreat toward his quarters; but his retreat was one continued battle. New multitudes thronged upon him in the lower area; and when these were passed, he met with a furious attack in every street and from every house. Every inch of ground was contested to and from the temple; still in this retreat he managed, by a desperate effort, to rescue his old friend Andres de Duero, whom the Mexicans had seized, and were dragging away for a sacrifice. At length he reached his quarters, every man being covered with blood, and sinking from exhaustion. An uncounted number of the Tlascalans had fallen, forty-six Spaniards had been killed, and every other Spaniard in the action had been wounded.[12]