At the dawn of morning, the day following the one on which the great
battle was fought, the allied armies, after being addressed by their
respective caciques, began to advance, with a view to another
engagement with Maxtla, for the purpose, chiefly, of securing, if
possible, the liberation of the prisoners in his hands. The chiefs, in
addressing their warriors, dwelt especially on the capture of tzin
Euet, the man--as they expressed it--who had done so grand a work for
Tezcuco and the cause of liberty, who, above all others, they felt,
should enjoy the fruits of that work, and whose release it was hoped
might be brought about by the further discomfiture of the enemy.
Flushed with the stimulus of a great victory, and anxious to again
measure strength with the Tepanec hosts, the warriors of the coalited
army marched away from their bivouac with a zeal which augured well for
them and the confusion of their adversaries, should they meet again in
deadly conflict.
The camp of the enemy was known to have been pitched on a plain
situated on the further side of a piece of woodland which lay just
north of the field of the recent battle. Ixtlilchoatl moved his forces
cautiously through this piece of woods, expecting to find Maxtla
encamped beyond, in blissful ignorance of their approach. Great was the
surprise, then, of the eager and expectant allies, when they came out
onto the plain, to find the enemy gone--the bird had flown, though,
evidently, only a short time before. A rapid pursuit was immediately
ordered, and ere long the retreating foe was overtaken and another
great battle fought.
The advantages, in point of numbers and excellence of organization,
together with the prestige of former successes, which were on the side
of the Tepanec army when it entered the field against the allies, had
been swept away by a disastrous defeat, and its warriors, further
disheartened and demoralized by a humiliating retreat, which left them
wholly unfitted to cope with an equally numerous army, whose members
were energized by a consciousness of right, the invigoration of
victory, and a determination to overthrow the power which had long been
a menace to tribal independence.
The second battle was fought by the Tepanec leaders more on the line
of self-preservation and the hope of getting off with a whole skin
than with the expectation of doing their opponents material damage.
A desperate conflict ensued, however, in which every inch of ground
was stubbornly contested by them, but which, as might have been
expected, ended in that wicked and tyrannical son of a barbarian
despot--Maxtla--being again discomfited and forced to yield to his
hated foe. A disastrous retreat followed, and, had not darkness come
on to check the avenging hosts of Tezcucans, who pursued with deadly
havoc the vanquished horde, the routed army would have been
effectually disintegrated, if not wholly annihilated.
The prisoners, with whom Euetzin was supposed to be, were not found,
and therefore not liberated. Thus was defeated one of the chief motives
which had led to the sudden advance of the allies.
Victory was won, and with it a crown, but at what a cost to Prince
Hualcoyotl's mind, in the contemplation of the awful fate which he now
felt awaited his best-beloved friend. Great as was the success
achieved, he had no heart, in that supreme hour, for exultation. He
bowed his head in sorrow for his lost friend, and, leaving the
management of affairs to Ixtlilchoatl and his subordinates, retired to
a spot where he could be alone, that he might wrestle with his deep
mental distress.
Maxtla, realizing that his army was crushed beyond hope of immediate
reconstruction, continued his flight by night, to get as far from the
victorious allies as possible before the light of day should reveal to
the country the crippled and demoralized condition of his army. No stop
was made until he had passed around and beyond the city of Tezcuco into
his own territory, where a bivouac was established, and his warriors
given a rest. So far as it could be done, order in his shattered ranks
was restored, and the march to his capital resumed and ended.
No acclamations or demonstrations of approval greeted the return of the
imperial army to Azcapozalco. With solemn, funereal tread it entered
the royal city, which soon became filled with a wail of woe ascending
from the bereaved and stricken inhabitants, who mourned for the missing
and slain. How different was its departure!
Maxtla did not despair under the greatly adverse conditions in which he
found himself after his short and disastrous campaign, but immediately
set about reorganizing his army, with a view to recovering his imperial
standing. His domain embraced a thickly populated territory, and was
not lacking in material from which to reconstruct his depleted forces.
The outcome of it was that, in a very short time, he was better
prepared for war than when he went forth to meet the allies.
The prisoners taken in the battles by his warriors were brought safely
through, and, as was the custom, placed in confinement to await their
doom of sacrifice upon the altars of the Tepanec deities.
Ixtlilchoatl, greatly elated over the successes which had so suddenly
been achieved by the armies under him, and, having conceived the idea
of giving Hualcoyotl a magnificent reception back to his own, began at
once to get things in shape for a grand entry into Tezcuco. Then
followed the memorable march to the city, which, we are told, was one
continued ovation to the returning prince. "He entered his capital,"
says the chronicler, "not like a proscribed outcast, but as the
rightful heir to a throne, receiving, at the same time, the homage of
his joyful subjects." His triumph was complete, but, with it all, there
was an aching void in his heart: his enemy had escaped, and carried
with him, as he supposed, the best of all his friends.
He was back in his palace, surrounded by the men who had stood with him
in the fierce and deadly conflicts through which he was compelled to
pass to reach it. Ix, the warrior hermit, whose intelligence and
sagacity had directed the army to victory; Macua and his princely
consorts; Tezcot, the wise hunter and good friend; Cacami, now a
warrior whose undoubted bravery and skill were conspicuously shown in
more than one furious encounter, and which were fully appreciated by
the prince; and Menke, Oza and Kan, and many others who have held no
particular place in our narrative, yet worthy of it when valorous deeds
are considered, were there engaged in celebrating, in an enthusiastic
manner, the event of their lives--the victorious close of a remarkable
conflict.
Now, indeed, was Tezcuco free from Tepanec enthrallment, her people
restored to their ancient privileges, and her prince brought back from
an outlawed condition to the enjoyment of his inherited rights.
The power of the military immediately supervened, but its rule was not
oppressive, for Ix, the hermit, was not a tyrant.
The greatest activity in all things suddenly became apparent. The
king's palace quickly became a scene of rustling animation. While
artisans were laboring to restore it to its ancient splendor, the
prince and his attendants were busily engaged in bringing order out of
chaos. Ah, how he missed his two best friends, Euetzin and Itzalmo, in
that hour of incipient well-being and future greatness!
The teocallis were receiving needed attention, after years of neglect
and waste, in anticipation of the coming rites, which were to be
celebrated in honor of the prince's coronation.
The spirit of self-interest and industry, which had lain dormant in the
hearts of the enslaved Tezcucans since the subversion of their
government, was revived with their restoration to liberty, and activity
prevailed where only a few days before was lethargy and inaction.
Wonderful transformation! The people were free!