After our first attack, in which we defeated the enemy and drove them from their post, we were met by fresh bodies of the enemy, marching in great parade, bearing rich plumes of feathers and ornamented standards.  On coming near, they threw down before us five bleeding heads, saying these were the heads of Cortes and his officers, and that we should soon meet the same fate.  They then marched up, and fought us hand to hand with the utmost valour, insomuch that we were at length compelled to retreat.  As usual, we gave orders to our allies to clear the way, by retreating before us; but the sight of the bloody heads had done this effectually, and not a man of them remained on the causeway to impede our flight.  Our cavalry made several charges this day, but our great safety depended upon two guns which raked the whole causeway, and were admirably managed by Pedro Morena, an excellent officer, whose services this day were singularly useful, as the whole causeway was crowded by the enemy.  Before we arrived at our quarters, and while pursued by the enemy, we heard the shrill timbals and mournful sound of the great drum from the summit of the temple of the god of war.  The priests were then sacrificing the hearts of ten of our companions to their accursed idols, and the sound of their dismal drum, which might be heard at almost three leagues off, might be imagined to be the music of the infernal deities.  Soon after this, the horn of Guatimotzin was heard, giving notice to the Mexican officers either to make prisoners of their enemies, or to die in the attempt.  It is utterly impossible to describe the fury with which they assailed us on hearing this dreadful signal, though the remembrance is still as lively as if now passing before me:  I can only say, that it was the good pleasure of God that we got back in safety to our post; praised be his mercy now and for ever.  Amen!  We were ignorant of the fate of our other detachments.  Sandoval was more than half a league from us, and Cortes still farther.  The melancholy sight of the heads of our countrymen, and the loss of one of our brigantines in which three of our soldiers were slain, filled us with melancholy, and we almost thought that we had reached the last hour of our lives.  Our captured vessel was afterwards recovered by Captain Xaramillo.  In the action of this day, Captain Caravajal, a most gallant officer, had the honour of being the first who broke through the enemies pallisades with his vessel:  He now lives in La Puebla, and has been ever since entirely deaf, having lost his hearing this day by excessive exertion.