“Yours was not the fault, and never will you be compared with heartless Nero.” “I am not thinking of that sorrow alone,” said Cortés, “but of the struggles yet required to achieve the mastery. Still with God’s approval we will soon attempt it.”5
In the morning hostile forces again appeared, only to be driven back, whereupon the allies dispersed to sack and fire, with the determination to avenge the attack made upon them during the flight from Mexico. “And in this they used such diligence,” writes Cortés, “that even our quarters were endangered.” The general was nothing loath to see the flames, for it suited his plans not only to chastise the people, but to render the place less strong in view of later operation; furthermore, it was no easy matter to restrain the Tlascaltecs. Next day the enemy came again in force, but this time they waited not to be routed. They retired steadily to and along the causeway to Mexico, drawing the Spaniards after them. It was the very spot where they had suffered so severely the year before. Cortés had led the cavalry far along the causeway and across one bridge, when the Mexicans with inspiring shouts and doubled force came rolling back on front and flank, from houses and lanes, thrusting with pikes and striking with swords, the roofs meanwhile swarming with slingers. Cortés quickly sounded retreat, and the troops retired, but the onslaught had been tremendous, and it required no small effort to stay themselves. Almost every one was wounded, it is said, and several fatally. In crossing the bridge Alférez Juan Volante was knocked into the water. Several canoe-men seized him, but he was a powerful fellow, and with the strength of desperation he shook them off and sprang back to his comrades with his banner. Cortés made repeated charges with the horses