Cortes now felt that his position was most dangerous. He could neither conquer nor make terms of peace, nor hope for a quiet retreat. To attempt a retreat from the capital was all that seemed left to him: to remain where he was, was courting almost certain death by war or famine; and yet he could not brook the thought of being anything but a conqueror, after all his toils and struggles. Fortunately, at this time he had a prospect of relief from Montezuma. It is said that, from one of the towers, the King had looked out upon the conflict in the city. He had marked the fierce spirit of the Spaniards, led on by Cortes, and the desperate resistance of the Mexican troops, headed by his brother, the lord of Iztapalapan. The sight moved him to tears. He felt that his city was in ruins, whoever might be conqueror. Troubled with his distress, after a sleepless night he sought Cortes, and implored him to stop the havoc by leaving the city. It required but little persuasion to bring Cortes to a decision. He promised the King that he would go, if he would insure him a peaceable departure, and, for this purpose, demanded that the Mexicans should lay down their arms: and Montezuma as readily agreed to use his authority to induce them to do so.[11]
Accordingly, on the next day, when the infuriated Mexicans again attacked the Spanish quarters, Montezuma resolved to show himself to them, hoping thereby to calm their fury. Their attack was now tremendous. It seemed impossible for the artillery to drive them back. Some were scaling the walls, and some had actually forced their way into the quarters, and were fighting hand to hand with the Spaniards, when Montezuma, attired in his regal dress, and attended by some of his nobles and a guard of Spanish soldiers, came out upon the battlements. The moment he appeared, all was silence; some fell reverently upon their knees. The King now spoke to them, beseeching them to desist, and declaring that the Spaniards were ready to leave the city if they would only allow them to pass out undisturbed. One of the nobles answered from the crowd, that the war would soon be over, for they had all sworn that no Spaniard should leave the city alive. Montezuma again implored them to lay aside their arms, and used every argument to persuade them. All was in vain. A murmur of discontent spread through the throng, and one of the crowd cried out that the King was a coward. In a moment more, the whole mass cursed and reproached him, and then came showers of stones and arrows upon the ramparts. Before the Spaniards could shelter him, Montezuma fell. A stone had struck him on the head, and he was wounded in his arm and leg. The Mexicans were now horror-stricken at their own deed; their stormy passions gave way to gloom and despair; they fled from the spot in dismay.