Wind Rises in North America 1625

Chapter 457 Ripples (Part 3)

At dawn, the vast city of Mexico slowly awakens from its slumber. The rising sun shines through the spire of the Church of San Francisco, casting a long, thin shadow on the cobblestone streets, like a golden finger of God gently touching the pulse of this colonial capital.

The crisp sound of horses' hooves shattered the morning dew, the changing of the guards' commands carried a metallic quality, the hurried footsteps of servants pounded through puddles, and the busy figures of attendants mingled with the cries of vendors selling chili peppers and cornbread from the distant market, weaving a morning web of colonial power in the courtyard of the governor's mansion.

In the main hall of the governor's mansion, thick firewood crackled in the flames, and sparks occasionally flew out of the furnace, only to be promptly pushed back in by servants with copper shovels.

A warm current carries the weight of leather, the spiciness of tobacco, and a subtle scent of orange blossom—a special incense brought from Madrid by Governor Count Pacheco, said to be a blend of orange blossom and sandalwood, now permeating every corner, masking the anxiety lurking in the air.

Hanging on the wall is a crude and blurry map of the Americas. On the leather canvas, important Spanish colonial outposts are marked in ink: from Santa Fe in the north (founded in 1607) to Lima in the south, from Havana in the Caribbean to Acapulco on the Pacific coast, red lines spread across the map like veins.

At the northern tip of the California peninsula, a small dot of ink is marked "San Diego," right at the eye of the storm.

At 9:50 a.m., the luxurious carriage of Mexico City Vice President Lazaro de la Garza stopped in front of the Governor's Palace, and the sound of the wheels rolling over the cobblestones startled a few pigeons.

He straightened his dark brown wool coat, the gold thread embroidery on the cuffs shimmering in the sunlight.

This coat was tailored last year. The fabric came from the wool factory in Xinhua Dongping, the gold thread embroidery came from the distant Ming Dynasty, and the exquisite tortoiseshell buttons were treasures from the East Indies, smuggled in by Chinese immigrants. Only the final sewing was done by the best tailor in Mexico City.

He glanced at the clock tower; the hands pointed to 9:55, five minutes ahead of the agreed meeting time.

"Speaker, the Governor is already in the meeting hall," an aide whispered, his voice deliberately lowered with respect.

His uniform collar was starched crisply, but it couldn't hide the weariness in his eyes. Lately, the atmosphere at the Governor's Palace was even more oppressive than Mexico City during the rainy season; everyone was cautiously trying to guess the Governor's temper.

"Yes, I understand, Goir." Garza smiled slightly, took two silver coins from his pocket, and stuffed them into his hand.

"Thank you, Mr. Speaker!" The attendant's eyes lit up, and he quickly stuffed the silver coin into his pocket. Then, he respectfully led Garza to the meeting hall on the second floor of the governor's mansion.

Count Diego López Pacheco, the Governor of New Spain, sat at the head of the long oak table, wearing a deep red robe embroidered with silver thread, the lace trim at the collar neatly arranged.

The king's favorite, who had only been in office for eight months, tapped his fingers lightly on the table, his gaze sweeping over the colonial officials present, his face bearing an unquestionable air of authority.

"You've all seen the urgent report from San Diego, haven't you?" Count Pacheco's voice was deep and steady, carrying the arrogance characteristic of Castilian nobility. "A group of ignorant and arrogant new Chinese have dared to establish a base in our territory without authorization. This is a blatant provocation against the Kingdom of Spain!"

He slammed a rolled-up document onto the table, and the governor's seal on the wax seal cracked with tiny lines.

The twelve colonial officials sitting on either side of the long table held their breath.

Next to the head of the table was Fernando Costa, the president of the Governor's District Prosecutor's Court. His slightly plump face had a pair of hawk-like eyes. When he heard the governor slam his fist on the table and get angry, he merely raised an eyebrow, then looked down at his nose and tapped his fingers lightly on his knee, as if the matter had nothing to do with him.

Opposite him stood Archbishop Oriol Romeu of the Governorate, his face somber, his brow furrowed, his right hand stroking the cross on his chest.

Next to him was Juan Perez, the Royal Treasurer, also a slightly overweight middle-aged man. In front of him lay a pile of documents, with dense numbers next to red annotations, and his fingers were stained with ink.

He would occasionally glance at Garza across from him, a faint hint of sarcasm playing on his lips.

Everyone in Mexico City knows that the goods the Garza family's merchant ships bring back from Black Shark Island each year are enough for them to buy hundreds of thousands of hectares of land in the northern pastoral areas.

Next to the presiding judge Costa was Lieutenant General Noel de Soto, chairman of the military council of the governorate. He looked somewhat nervous, his hands were crossed, and he kept turning his two thumbs, looking preoccupied.

Pedro Mendoza, the head of the Trade Office of the Governor's District, kept swallowing, glancing at the Governor and then gesturing to Garza with his eyes, as if trying to hint at something.

Meanwhile, Garza and Speaker Ignacio Rodriguez exchanged frequent glances, confirming the secret between them.

Like Mendoza, the head of the Trade Office, Inigo Martinez Beridi, the Inspector General of Taxation, was also restless, frequently reaching up to brush the hair behind his ear.

In the secret chambers of his mansion, besides storing countless gold and silver jewels, there were also stacks of trade lists, which roughly recorded the sales volume and value of Xinhua goods in Mexico City.

His nephew was in charge of inspecting the import and export of "special goods" in the port of Acapulco. If the San Diego invasion caused a rift between the Mexican authorities and Xinhua, his family would be the first to suffer.

"As you all know, the new Chinese in San Diego Bay have established a settlement right under our noses, armed with muskets, swords, and an armed warship," Count Pacheco's voice broke the silence once more. "Although they claim to be surveying the land, I believe this is a despicable lie. They are carrying out an illegal invasion, a trampling on the sovereignty of the Kingdom of Spain in the New World!"

Upon hearing this, Garza's heart skipped a beat, and he looked up at General Soto diagonally opposite him.

But his expression seemed to have become even more unpleasant, and his mouth was moving slightly.

Judging from the Governor's tone, could it be that he intends to use force against the Chinese in Xinhua?

“General Soto, I expect your military to take immediate action.” Sure enough, Count Pacheco turned his gaze to Soto, his tone carrying an unquestionable command, “As the military commander of the Viceroyalty, you must shoulder the responsibility of protecting the sacred territory of the Kingdom of Spain, expelling those audacious new Chinese from San Diego Bay, and upholding the dignity and honor of our kingdom.”

“Your Excellency, regarding the military action against the Chinese, I suggest…” Soto hesitated for a moment, then said with a forced smile, “I suggest that we be more cautious and consider things more thoroughly, and not launch a military strike against them lightly.”

“Oh?…” Count Pacheco stared at him with displeasure: “Can you give me your reasons? Why can’t we launch a military operation against a local indigenous force?” “Your Excellency, Xinhua is not an ordinary local indigenous force.” Soto carefully chose his words: “They have established a country with a relatively complete and strict governance model, conscientious officials, and a well-trained army.”

“So what?” Count Pacheco said dismissively. “Cortez led about 600 soldiers to destroy the vast Aztec Empire and established the Viceroyalty of New Spain on its ruins. Pizarro led only 160 soldiers to destroy the powerful Inca Empire and then established the Viceroyalty of Peru on its former territory.”

Are we now less courageous and confident than our predecessors?

“Your Excellency, eight years ago we attacked Xinhua, but we ended up suffering a defeat…” Soto cautiously reminded him.

At that time, he had not yet arrived in the American colonies and was still serving in the Italian region.

However, three years ago, after he was transferred to Mexico, in order to understand the military threats in the surrounding area, he carefully reviewed the events surrounding that war and discussed Xinhua's military potential face-to-face with former Military Council Chairman General León.

According to General Leon, without committing all the resources and strength of the entire American colony, the military force hastily assembled by the Viceroyalty of New Spain would be far from sufficient to defeat Xinhua.

They were too far from Mexico, more than 4,000 kilometers away, and had a population of over 100,000, as well as considerable military strength. The chances of victory in such an extremely difficult expedition were very slim.

In the past few years, while accepting benefits from certain smugglers and providing them with many conveniences, he also used various channels to further understand Xinhua, the country he was in.

Xinhua not only has a professional army of nearly two thousand people, but also conducts military training of a certain intensity on the residents within its territory during the off-season for farming.

It is said that they used the same weapons as European armies, with a very high proportion of firearms, and their training standards were extremely strict. They fired more gunpowder and projectiles each year than the Spanish colonial army.

Although this country is small, its entire population is armed and its military strength is quite high. It is not as easy to manipulate as the Aztec Empire and the Inca Empire more than a hundred years ago.

What's even more alarming is that Xinhua also has no fewer than fifty ocean-going merchant ships—oh, that number might be higher than we estimated, because Xinhua has the capability to build ships independently.

It should be noted that during this period, many merchant ships could be easily converted into armed vessels and participate in maritime military operations with just a few minor modifications and the addition of some cannons.

How many ships does our Viceroyalty of New Spain have on the Pacific side?
Less than twenty!
If war breaks out, the new Chinese will convert their vast number of merchant ships into armed vessels, and will inevitably gain control of the seas in the Pacific region.

They might even turn around and blockade our important ports and towns along the Pacific coast of the Americas.

For example, the ports of Acapulco, Panama, and even Callao.

In addition, there is another, most difficult problem.

That is, if the colonial government were to use force against the new Chinese, would it have sufficient financial resources?
“General Soto, did I say I was going to launch an attack on Xinhua?” Count Pacheco gave Soto a deep look, his tone clearly displeased. “I told you to expel the Xinhua entrenched in San Diego Bay and defend the territorial integrity of our Kingdom of Spain. Is there a problem with that?”

“But…” Soto still had many concerns, “But this would trigger a war between us and Xinhua.”

“Ha ha…” Count Pacheco laughed loudly, his booming laughter echoing in the conference hall, drawing the attention of the colonial officials present. “General Soto, when has our Kingdom of Spain ever been afraid to go to war with a tiny country on the northwest coast just to defend our territory? Such cowardice is not in the honor of a Spanish soldier!”

"..." Soto was speechless. Facing the governor's piercing gaze, his eyes darted left and right, and his fingers nervously clenched the hem of his clothes.

Even setting aside whether Spain itself can provide support, given the current situation of our New Viceroyalty of Spain, it is not suitable for us to engage in armed conflict with Xinhua!

Sparks suddenly flew from the firewood in the fireplace, startling the colonial officials in the meeting hall. They exchanged worried glances and remained silent.

Archbishop Romeu gently made the sign of the cross on his chest and slowly began to speak: “God will punish those heretics who covet the land of the people of Christ. But the Book of Samuel also warns us that warriors should not act solely out of bravado. Your Excellency, perhaps we could first issue a warning and demand that they withdraw?”

Count Pacheco glanced at the archbishop, frowned, took a deep breath, and asked in a low voice, "How many troops can your military mobilize to San Diego Bay?"

“We can mobilize... four to five hundred people.” Soto sighed inwardly.

"Can we depart immediately?" Count Pacheco pressed, his fingers tapping impatiently on the table.

“Uh… I’m afraid that won’t work.” Soto shook his head, a troubled look on his face. “We need to prepare weapons and ammunition for the soldiers. Many muskets need to be re-maintained and repaired, and the gunpowder needs to be dried and screened. There are also corresponding supplies and transport mules. All of this will take time to prepare.”

Silence fell over the meeting room once again, with only the faint sounds of guards' commands and the clatter of leather boots coming from outside the window.

Count Pacheco looked at the officials before him, some silent and some worried, and his anger was reignited.

They may have been corrupted by the profits brought by Xinhua's smuggling of goods, and have lost the courage and determination that Spanish nobles should have.

“My decision will not change!” Count Pacheco straightened the lace trim on his cuffs, his tone regaining its calmness, yet carrying an undeniable authority. “In half a month… no, in a week, I need to see an army depart from Mexico City, aboard our armed ships, heading to San Diego Bay.”

"We need to tell the new Chinese that our bottom line will not be retreated indefinitely. The glory of the Kingdom of Spain must be upheld, and our dignity cannot be trampled on."

“They not only want to withdraw from San Diego Bay, but also leave our California and go back to the border line agreed upon eight years ago.”

"This is not a discussion, nor a request; this is our ultimatum."
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(End of this chapter)