Wind Rises in North America 1625

Chapter 512 Disarray
On April 5, the sky over Mexico City was as blue as ever, and the white exterior of the Governor General's Palace looked solemn and dignified in the sunlight.

The orange trees in the courtyard exuded a faint fragrance, and the fountain murmured. Everything seemed the same as always, filled with the languid yet hierarchical atmosphere of a colonial power center.

However, the air seemed to freeze inside the governor's office.

Count Diego López Pacheco, the Governor-General of New Spain, clutched a document from Acapulco tightly in his hand. The color was slowly fading from his well-maintained, slightly plump face, until it turned deathly pale.

His eyes, which were usually filled with a gentle smile at banquets and ceremonies, were wide open at this moment, his pupils filled with disbelief and horror, his gaze fixed on the documents as if trying to see through those few pages.

The document, with unfamiliar gold patterns embossed along its edges, bore neat Spanish text: "Declaration of War by the Republic of New South Wales against the Kingdom of Spain."

“God…” Count Pacheco murmured, his voice dry as sandpaper, “How…how dare they?…”

He abruptly raised his head and growled at the door, his voice filled with barely concealed rage: "José! Immediately! Go and summon General Soto (Chairman of the Military Council of the Governorate), General Álvaro (Chairman of the Naval Council of the Governorate), Mr. Costa (Chairman of the Prosecutor's Court of the Governorate), Mr. Pérez (Treasurer of the Governorate), and... damn it, summon all the high-ranking officials you can! Now! To the council chamber for a meeting!"

"Yes, Your Excellency!" Secretary José had never seen the governor so distraught. He bowed deeply and practically ran out of the room. His hurried footsteps echoed down the corridor, startling the pigeons perched on the windowsill.

In less than an hour, the most important military and political figures of the Viceroyalty of New Spain had gathered in the grand council chamber of the Viceroyalty, which was decorated with magnificent gilded ornaments and huge oil paintings.

Around the long conference table, people whispered and discussed amongst themselves, wondering what urgent matter could have prompted the governor to summon them so hastily.

Some speculated that an urgent royal decree had been issued, while others worried that a large fleet from the Netherlands or France had appeared in the Caribbean.

Some even speculated that the Xinhua people had put forward new negotiating conditions.

When Governor Pacheco finally entered the council chamber, all the murmurs ceased abruptly.

Everyone noticed the undisguised panic and heaviness on the governor's face.

He didn't exchange pleasantries as usual, but went straight to the head of the table and slammed the declaration of war onto the smooth conference table.

"Gentlemen," his voice trembled slightly as he tried to remain calm, "the very thing we least wanted to see, or rather, the thing some of us have been advocating for, has now happened. However, it is not we who have declared war on them, but they—the new Chinese—who have formally declared war on us, on the great Kingdom of Spain!"

"what?!"

"This is impossible!"

"Those damned heretics? Are they insane?!"

The council chamber erupted instantly, filled with exclamations, questions, and angry shouts. Someone abruptly stood up from their chair, the chair legs scraping against the floor with a piercing creak.

Someone slammed their hand on the table, causing the quill pens on it to fall to the ground.

Some people were pale-faced and sat blankly in their chairs, clearly not having recovered their senses.

Lieutenant General Noel de Soto, Chairman of the Military Council of the Governorate, was the first to react, his brow furrowed, but he still held onto a sliver of hope: "Your Excellency, is the news accurate? Where did it come from? Could it be a hoax or a rumor? Although the new Chinese have occupied a few plots of land in California, their population is less than 300,000. How dare they rashly declare war on the Kingdom of Spain?"

“Absolutely.” Governor Pacheco took a deep breath, trying to calm himself, and shoved the declaration of war forward. “This is a declaration of war from the Chinese. It was sent by fast horse by Diego Fernandez, the municipal official of Acapulco. Their envoy, a fellow who supposedly speaks Spanish more fluently than some Creoles, personally delivered this document at the customs house.”

As he spoke, he turned to look at the grandfather clock in the corner, its oak case engraved with Roman numerals, the hands pointing to 11:30 a.m.: "The declaration of war is at 12 p.m. on April 2nd. Oh God, now we are at war with the new Chinese."

General Soto grabbed the document and quickly scanned it, his expression growing increasingly grim with each reading.

He read aloud the key clauses: "...attack on exploration teams...seizure of merchant ships...prohibition of trade...spying on gold mines...a total of seventeen charges...in accordance with the Republican Charter...a state of war shall commence at noon on April 2nd...all Spanish ships are lawful targets...ports may be blockaded..."

With each line read aloud, the faces of everyone in the hall grew increasingly grim.

"Absurd! Utter nonsense!" Fernando Costa, the presiding judge of the Governorate District Prosecutor's Court, slammed his fist on the table, making the silver inkstone bounce. "These charges are nothing but pretexts! The entire California region legally belongs to the Kingdom of Spain, not to mention San Diego Bay and our mission district. The fact that the Chinese immigrants sent an exploration team to trespass into our territory is itself an illegal invasion... How dare they declare war on the Kingdom of Spain for these reasons? This is turning black into white, a blasphemy against God and the King! We must immediately deliver a devastating blow to them and let them know that the dignity of the Kingdom of Spain is inviolable!"

"A devastating blow?" a faint voice echoed. "President Costa, I'm afraid our Viceroyalty of New Spain can't do that!"

The speaker was General Álvaro de Borja, Chairman of the Naval Council of the Governorate, the second son of Duke Muños. Although he was relatively young, only thirty-five years old, his face bore the marks of years of sea voyage.

"Why can't we?" Costa's face darkened, and he asked sternly, "The Chinese have already declared war on us. Shouldn't we mobilize all the armed forces of the Viceroyalty to deliver a heavy blow to them in order to uphold the dignity and honor of our Kingdom of Spain?"

“Mr. Costa, our strength is not as great as it seems on paper.” Alvaro glanced at General Soto beside him, a wry smile on his face. “To strike at the New Chinese, should we use the Creole cavalry scattered along the northern border dealing with the mountain Indians? Or should we use my few old warships, which are in poor maintenance and half-strengthened? To launch an expedition thousands of kilometers away to California or Oregon? Oh God, that would be tantamount to suicide for us!”

“General Alvaro…” Costa looked at him with great dissatisfaction, “As the naval commander appointed by His Majesty the King, you should take on the responsibility of defending the American colonies, instead of choosing to shrink back and avoid battle when faced with military threats, or rather, when facing the impending war, and even cowardly showing weakness to the enemy.”

“Mr. Costa, I’m sorry you think that way.” Alvaro shrugged helplessly. “If the Dutch or the French invade our Caribbean territory and dare to approach Havana or Veracruz, I will not hesitate to order the naval officers and men to fight bravely to defend the sacred territory of our Kingdom of Spain, because on the Atlantic side, we still have the strength to fight.”

"But who is our enemy now? It's the New Chinese. Where is their power? In the Pacific! And in this sea area, our New Spain Viceroyalty has no armed ships that can fight back. Even if we urgently convert the merchant ships docked in several ports along the coast into armed warships, we still cannot deal with the New Chinese's attack."

"Because the new Chinese possess nearly a hundred merchant ships of various sizes, as well as at least five or six professional naval warships. Although it is psychologically difficult to accept, I have to state to you a very grim fact: once the new Chinese are fully armed, they will have absolute naval superiority along the Pacific coast. They can attack our merchant ships and fishing boats at will, and can easily blockade our ports."

"Furthermore, at a considerable cost, they could use their superior naval power to launch landing operations on the coastal port towns of the Governorate, attack and seize our territory, massacre our people, and plunder our wealth."

As soon as he finished speaking, the officials present turned their heads and showed deep concern on their faces.

Yes, after more than ten years of development, the new Chinese community has become so powerful that it can rival the Viceroyalty of New Spain.

Especially on the Pacific side, their strength is far superior to that of the governorate, and they are far beyond the reach of ordinary indigenous kingdoms that they can easily control.

Ten years ago, when they were still weak, our Governor's District failed to wipe them out in one blow. Instead, we ended up in a sorry state and had to end the battle hastily.

Now, Xinhua has a population of nearly 300,000, nearly 100 ships, and an army of no less than 5,000 people. It is by no means an easy target.

Previously, the conflict in San Diego Bay had brought relations between the two sides to a tense standoff.

After the Chinese seized control of San Diego, Mexican authorities banned smuggling and seized Chinese goods entering the country.

Everyone thought that the dispute would gradually fade away with time, that the Chinese might voluntarily withdraw from San Diego Bay, and that the Viceroyalty would gradually relax its control over the smuggling of Chinese goods—after all, Chinese goods largely met the production and living needs of millions of people in the Americas, greatly enriched the local market, and freed the Spanish from those low-quality and high-priced smuggled goods from Europe.

The new Chinese also needed to purchase sugar, cocoa, wool, and cotton from the Governor's District, and the two sides had an inseparable connection of interests.

They hoped that the new Chinese would eventually withdraw from San Diego Bay on their own initiative, and that the Governorate would gradually relax trade restrictions, and everything would return to normal.

However, to everyone's surprise, after repeated attempts by the new Chinese to negotiate with the Mexican authorities went unanswered, they actually overturned the table, revealed their ferocious faces, and declared war on our Kingdom of Spain.

"Gentlemen, it's pointless to discuss the military strength comparison between us and the new Chinese on the Pacific coast," Treasurer Juan Perez interjected, his voice filled with anxiety. "The most critical issue right now is that war has begun! And war means enormous financial expenditures and the consumption of countless resources. We need to pay soldiers' salaries, purchase artillery and ammunition, build fortifications, provide food and supplies for the army… each of these requires a large number of pesos." He raised his head, his gaze sweeping over each official present, his tone heavy. "But our biggest problem now is that the Governorate's finances are at their limit. Last year, we paid an extra 1.2 million pesos in taxes and 500,000 pesos in 'royal contributions' to the mainland, and now there's almost not a single peso left in the treasury."

"What's worse is that many officers and soldiers in the governorate, including sailors in the Caribbean fleet, haven't received their pay for over four months. Last month, the Creole cavalry on the northern border even mutinied due to unpaid wages, and it was only managed to quell the unrest with donations from the church. So, with war looming, where will we raise enough funds for our army?"

Upon hearing this, everyone immediately stopped arguing, lowered their heads, and remained silent.

Yes, money!

It's about money again!

Despite Mexico having several rich gold and silver mines—Guanajuato silver mine, Zacatecas silver mine, Pachuca gold mine—which can produce millions of pesos worth of gold and silver each year, seemingly offering endless wealth.

But from the moment these gold and silver were dug out of the mine, they no longer belonged to the Viceroyalty of New Spain, but to His Majesty the King in Madrid.

After refining and processing, the ore had to be packed into specially made wooden crates, sealed with lead, and then escorted by naval warships back to Spain.

At this time, the Kingdom of Spain was already caught in a predicament of fighting on multiple fronts: on the European continent, it had to deal with the Protestant states and Swedish armies in the German region; on the northern border, it had to resist the invasion of France; at sea, it had to endure the endless harassment of the Dutch fleet; and to make matters worse, there was a rebellion in Catalonia and the Portuguese independence movement within the kingdom.

To support these massive wars, King Philip IV and his chief minister, Count Olivares, repeatedly sent orders to the American colonies, demanding that they raise more gold and silver, even at any cost.

Last year, the mainland even dispatched a chief inspector to the American territory to personally supervise and urge sufficient collection of various taxes, and attempted to further tap into the "potential" to extract more funds to flow into the mainland to meet the needs of the King and the chief minister.

This chief inspector spent fourteen months in the Americas, his footsteps covering the two viceroyalties of New Spain and Peru. His methods were so ruthless and his exploitation so thorough that he was like a hungry bull that had broken into a treasure trove. Wherever he went, whether it was the richest silver mine owners, the most prominent Creole estate owners, or the most humble mixed-race craftsmen, they all felt a chill to the bone.

It could be said that he was not there on the king's orders to inspect, but rather to reap the wealth of the colonial territories.

He established numerous "special war taxes" and "royal loyalty taxes," and even dredged up old debts from decades ago, using pretexts such as "unpaid taxes on smuggled goods" and "reviewing the legality of land ownership" to force merchants and landowners to pay huge "fines" and "confirmation fees" in order to protect their assets.

His personal treasurer would meticulously examine every past account as if combing lice, and any minor oversight would be magnified and used as an excuse for severe punishment.

Merchants in Mexico City and Lima privately lamented that the Inspector General's gaze seemed to turn lead into gold—no, into taxes. Any wealth he set his sights on would eventually be transformed into cold payment notices, loaded onto silver-carrying ships bound for Spain.

In his eyes, this rich colony was like a sponge soaked with water, and his only task was to use every means possible, even if it was deformed and torn apart, to squeeze out the last drop of gold and silver.

After all this turmoil, the Viceroyalty of New Spain had been squeezed dry of every last drop of profit, so where would it find any "extra" money for the war?
Governor Pacheco closed his eyes in anguish, and the image of the fanatical and arrogant face of the chief inspector from Spain—Viscount Quevedo—immediately flashed into his mind.

This same guy not only nearly drained the wealth of the American territories, but also kept clamoring last year, claiming that the gold mine discovered by the new Chinese should belong to His Majesty the King, and demanding that the Mexican authorities send troops to "reclaim" California, seize the gold mine, and make an unparalleled contribution to the King.

“Viscount Quetzal…” Pacheco murmured the name, his voice filled with gloom, “He should still be in Havana, right? Still dreaming of a fleet expedition to San Francisco Bay and seizing the gold mines, right? If he knew that instead of an expeditionary fleet, he received a declaration of war from the Chinese, I wonder what his expression would be?”

An awkward silence fell over the council chamber. Everyone exchanged glances and kept their mouths shut.

As everyone knows, the governor himself, as well as most of the local Creole nobles and landowners, disapproved of the inspector's radical plan and even secretly resisted it.

They prefer to maintain the status quo and profit from the smuggling trade.

War only destroys everything.

“Your Excellency,” General Soto said in a low voice, “Although we face various difficulties, we cannot sit idly by. I suggest an immediate full mobilization of the Viceroyalty! In addition to transferring the colonial troops scattered throughout the region to the Pacific coast, we must urgently conscript militia to strengthen the port defenses, especially Acapulco. At the same time, we should immediately request assistance from mainland Spain and the Viceroyalty of Peru!”

“A plea for help?” Perez shook his head with a wry smile. “Sending a letter for help to Madrid, and then waiting for His Majesty’s orders and reinforcements to arrive, would take a year or even longer! As for Peru… I don’t think the governor of Lima would be willing to send his precious fleet and soldiers to defend our northern coastline or to attack a distant land from which he sees no benefit. He’s more worried about the Dutch attacking his silver ships!”

Governor Pacheco slowly stood up, placed his hands on the table, and looked around at the officials present, each with a different expression. A tremendous sense of powerlessness gripped him.

He possessed vast lands and millions of people, yet he felt a strange vulnerability in the face of the new Chinese.

"Gentlemen..." His voice was weary, but carried an undeniable resolve. "The argument ends here. General Soto, you are right, we cannot remain inactive. I order you to immediately formulate a homeland defense plan, focusing on strengthening the defenses of Acapulco, San Blas, and other coastal towns, and to recruit and train the militia."

"General Alvaro, you have three tasks: First, immediately assess the feasibility of transferring some of the Caribbean Fleet's warships to the Pacific Ocean—of course, I know this is difficult, but we must try; second, organize as many mobile ships as possible along the Pacific coast, including merchant ships and fishing boats, urgently modify them, add cannons, and supplement sailors to form a temporary fleet responsible for patrolling the coastline and guarding against attacks from the new Chinese; third, within three days, submit a vulnerability assessment report for all Pacific ports, marking which ports are vulnerable to attack and require key defense."

“Mr. Juan,” he said, turning to the treasurer, “immediately assess the current financial situation of the governorate, including the cash in the treasury, the supplies available for temporary use, and the estates and mines that can be mortgaged. At the same time, evaluate the impact of the war on trade and taxation, and how to raise war funds that can be used immediately in the shortest possible time. Whether it is borrowing from merchants, raising donations from churches, or even temporarily diverting the profits from the mines, we must find a way.”

Finally, Pacheco's gaze fell on the president of the prosecution, Costa: "President Costa, you are responsible for drafting two documents. The first is an urgent report to the Madrid court, detailing the process of the Chinese declaration of war, the accusations in the declaration, and the grim situation we are currently facing. Attach a copy of this declaration. The report must clearly state that we need royal reinforcements and financial support, and the sooner the better."

"The second letter was to the Viceroyalty of Peru, which used the strongest language to describe the seriousness of the situation and requested, no, pleaded with them to send a naval fleet to help us at least protect the security of the Pacific coast and prevent the new Chinese from blockading the ports."

Orders were issued one after another, and the officials readily accepted them.

But no one showed any fighting spirit on their faces, only deep worry and uncertainty.

They didn't know if the defense plan they were about to draft would work, or if the hastily assembled fleet could withstand the attack from the new Chinese, or even if they could raise the life-saving military funds.

After the meeting, the officials left the council chamber one after another, the heavy oak doors were pushed open and closed again and again, and the sound of their footsteps gradually faded away.

Governor Pacheco remained alone in the empty council chamber. He walked to the huge window and looked out at the bustling Mexico City.

The sun was still shining brightly, and pedestrians were coming and going on the street, but he felt a chill in his bones.

He recalled a report he had seen about the new Chinese immigrants: they were not ignorant natives; they had their own language and laws; they could manufacture guns and warships superior to those in Spain; they had a tight organization; and the immigrants obeyed orders like soldiers, cultivating the land and building villages and towns.

Their population is still growing rapidly, with tens of thousands of people being transported from the west coast of the Pacific every year... They are an efficient and dangerous colonization machine, expanding tirelessly.

Now, this machine has officially started and is targeting his governor's district.

"God bless Spain, bless Mexico..." the governor murmured to himself, but he had a clear premonition that from the very beginning of this war, they would be in an extremely passive position.

That ambitious chief inspector got himself into a huge mess because of his career advancement and ambition.

Ultimately, it is the entire New Spain colony and its millions of inhabitants who will bear the brunt of all this suffering.

The orange trees outside the window still exude a faint fragrance, and the fountain still murmurs softly.

But Governor Pacheco knew that the peace of Mexico City had been completely shattered by the declaration of war from Acapulco.

A storm is slowly approaching from the north, about to engulf this seemingly fertile land.
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(End of this chapter)