Wind Rises in North America 1625

Chapter 530 Clash (Part Two)

As the sun slanted westward, it dyed Lake Chapala a blood red.

General Don Francisco de Toledo reined in his horse, his face ashen as he stared at the scene before him.

Behind him, the massive contingent of five thousand Spanish soldiers slowly came to a halt. The noise of their march gradually faded away, replaced by a subdued silence and the occasional gasp of breath.

On the battlefield by the lake, corpses lay scattered haphazardly on the scorched earth.

The bodies of the Spanish soldiers, exposed to the scorching sun, were swollen and emitted a nauseating stench.

The bloodstains turned dark brown on the dry ground, attracting swarms of flies that buzzed irritatingly.

A flock of vultures flew up in alarm from the several disemboweled corpses and landed on a dead tree not far away, emitting disgruntled cries.

Even more chilling were the groans and cries for help from the wounded soldiers who were still breathing.

“God…” General Toledo made the sign of the cross on his chest, his voice dry and hoarse, his hand holding the reins trembling slightly.

Major Castro, the adjutant, rode up, his face pale: "General, we've found seventy-four bodies and thirty-five wounded. Most were killed by musket fire and sword wounds. Some of the bodies..."

He paused, then continued with difficulty, "Some of the corpses were stripped naked, even their boots were taken."

Toledo nodded silently, his sharp gaze sweeping across the battlefield, noticing some disturbing details: most of the corpses had been shot or stabbed in the back, indicating they were hit while fleeing; the captured weapons had been taken away, but the gunpowder barrels had been deliberately destroyed, scattering black powder everywhere; the abandoned Spanish wounded were all critically wounded and dying, their wounds unbandaged, clearly showing the conquerors no mercy.

"Let the priest pray for the dead," Toledo finally spoke, his voice heavy. "The civilian laborers should do their utmost to treat the wounded, and order the troops to set up camp on higher ground away from the lake shore, and remain vigilant!"

With the order given, the Spanish army began to get busy.

The soldiers silently collected the bodies of their comrades and dug graves far from the lake shore.

Many Spanish soldiers looked grief-stricken, and some recognized familiar faces and couldn't help but sob quietly.

The laborers moved among the wounded, but soon discovered that most of them were too badly injured. In this situation of scarce medical resources and extremely primitive surgical techniques, their chances of survival were extremely slim.

"General, these barbarians are utterly inhuman!" a young major exclaimed angrily. "They're just leaving the wounded here to die!"

General Toledo did not respond, but his knuckles were white from gripping the reins tightly.

He noticed that the footprints and hoofprints on the battlefield all pointed northwest—to the city of Guadalajara.

These footprints are neat and regular, showing that the victors maintained a disciplined formation during their retreat.

Father Jose, dressed in a black robe and holding a cross, prayed for each of the corpses.

When he reached a young soldier whose abdomen had been slashed open by a bayonet, he couldn't help but kneel down and weep uncontrollably.

"Lord, forgive these sinners, and accept these courageous souls... They gave their lives for their faith and the Kingdom..."

As evening approached, the camp had just been set up when a cavalry scout returned to the camp.

Cavalry commander Lieutenant Colonel Alvarez went straight to the command tent, his uniform covered in dust, his face showing fatigue and frustration.

“General…” Alvarez reported after saluting, “We failed to catch up with the Xinhua Army due to attacks and obstruction from the Indians along the way. About a quarter of the way from Guadalajara, the enemy had completely retreated into the city. And…”

He hesitated for a moment, "Moreover, the sights seen by our cavalry scouts along the way are quite unsettling."

General Toledo raised his head, his sharp gaze fixed on the lieutenant colonel: "Go on."

“All the villages and estates have been burned down, General. Crops in the fields have been trampled and destroyed on a massive scale, wells have been filled in, and even some streams have been filled with dead livestock, just as we saw on the way here,” Alvarez said with difficulty. “Within five leagues of Guadalajara, there are hardly any intact houses or clean drinking water sources. The extent of the destruction… is something I have never seen before.”

An uproar immediately erupted inside the tent.

"That's impossible!" A bearded officer's eyes widened, and he abruptly stood up. "How could those new Chinese have gone so far? Shouldn't they have just looted and run like pirates?"

General Toledo raised his hand to quell the commotion, his face growing even more grim. "Continue, Lieutenant Colonel."

“We also observed Guadalajara from a distance,” Alvarez added. “New fortifications have been added to the city walls, and we saw a lot of cannons. The city gates were closed, and the walls were covered with Xinhua soldiers, clearly prepared to defend the city. What’s more worrying is that they have leveled all the houses and trees around the city, clearing a large area of ​​firing range, exposing any approaching troops to their firepower.”

A deathly silence fell over the tent.

Toledo slowly sat back in his chair, his fingers unconsciously tapping the table.

The officers inside the tent looked at each other, then began to whisper amongst themselves.

General Toledo frowned, walked to the map, and pointed heavily at the location of Guadalajara.

"They're determined to defend the city to the death," the general muttered to himself, then turned to the officers in the tent. "Gentlemen, the situation is far more complicated than we anticipated."

He originally thought that, faced with the arrival of more than 5,000 Spanish troops, the Xinhua Army, feeling the immense military pressure, would, like pirates in the past, plunder and then flee back to sea.

Then the army would easily recapture Guadalajara, pursue the fleeing enemy, and perhaps achieve a glorious victory on the coastline, or even capture a few enemy ships.

All of this will earn him honors and promotions.

but now……

General Toledo gave a wry smile and looked at the officers inside the tent: "Gentlemen, do you have any good suggestions?"

The young Major Diego spoke first: "General, in that case, we should attack immediately! While they haven't established a firm foothold, let's retake Guadalajara in one fell swoop! Let these new Chinese witness the courage of the Spanish army!"

"Reckless!" retorted Lieutenant Colonel Salvador, a seasoned military officer. "The enemy has held Guadalajara for over two months; they're not just struggling to establish a foothold. Besides, if they dare to stay and defend it to the death, they must be fully prepared. What price would we pay for a forced siege? The cannons on the walls would turn our city into a river of blood!"

"Then what do you suggest we do?" Diego retorted, dissatisfied. "Are we just going to sit here and wait? Wouldn't that make the new Chinese laugh at our cowardice and weakness?"

Lieutenant Colonel Salvador walked to the map: "I think we should halt the advance and request reinforcements from Mexico City. Once more reinforcements and siege equipment arrive, we can launch a joint attack."

"Waiting for reinforcements?" A mocking voice came from the corner of the tent. Everyone turned to look and saw Colonel Mendoza from Mexico City. "Wait until when? A month? Two months? By then, the enemy's defenses will only be more complete! And where will our supplies come from in the meantime?" These words jolted everyone awake.

Yes, the original plan was to operate from within the city limits, where supplies could be obtained along the way. When the army set off from Iraplatz, it only carried ten days' worth of military supplies.

By the time the army reached Lake Chapala, food and fodder were running low.

A heated debate immediately erupted inside the tent.

"We should attack immediately!"

"No, we should wait for reinforcements!"

"Or try to lure the enemy out to fight..."

"Perhaps we should retreat for now..."

General Toledo listened silently to his men's argument, his fingers gently stroking the hilt of his rapier.

His gaze fell on the map again, and he quickly weighed the various options in his mind.

attack?

The enemy held the city, possessing artillery and strong fortifications.

Of his five thousand men, less than two thousand had real combat experience; the rest were militia and Indian auxiliary troops who were temporarily recruited.

Attacking a heavily fortified city by force would result in catastrophic losses.

wait?

El Salvador is right; waiting for reinforcements is the safest option.

But Mendoza also pointed out a key problem: supplies.

They had originally hoped to gather provisions along the way, but now the enemy had implemented a scorched-earth policy—how absurd that the enemy would carry out a scorched-earth policy on Spanish territory—the surrounding areas simply could not provide enough supplies.

If the army stays here, it will soon face the danger of running out of food.

retreat?

This may be the wisest choice, but it is completely unacceptable from a political standpoint.

As the commander of the punitive expedition personally appointed by the governor of New Spain, retreating before even engaging the enemy and firing a single shot would ruin his career and embolden the enemy.

"Gentlemen, please be quiet!" General Toledo finally spoke, and the tent immediately fell silent.

All eyes were on him.

The general stood up and slowly walked into the tent: "Tomorrow morning, the troops will continue their march towards Guadalajara. But we will not rush to attack the city; instead, we will first set up camp outside the city to scout the enemy's situation and ascertain their defensive deployment."

He looked at his adjutant, Major Castro: "Tomorrow morning, you will ride back to Mexico City at full speed and report the problems we face to the Governor-General. We must request at least three thousand additional soldiers and twenty siege cannons, especially heavy siege cannons."

He then turned to Lieutenant Colonel Salvador: "Lieutenant Colonel, you are responsible for requisitioning food and other supplies needed by the troops from nearby remote towns, villages, and estates that have not yet been destroyed, and ensuring that they are delivered to the army camp in Guadalajara in a timely manner."

He then ordered the cavalry commander: "Lieutenant Colonel Alvarez, your cavalry unit must expand its reconnaissance range, searching for usable water sources and enemy hideouts, while protecting our supply lines from attack. Pay particular attention to those pesky Indian militias and prevent them from harassing the main camp."

Finally, his gaze swept over all the officers: "Gentlemen, we are facing an unusual enemy. They are not only formidable in combat but also cunning in tactics. Any underestimation or carelessness could lead to disastrous consequences. From tomorrow onward, the entire army will be on high alert."

The officers responded in unison, "Yes, General!"

After the meeting, General Toledo walked out of the tent alone.

Night had fallen, and the campfires in the camp looked like stars fallen to earth.

In the distance, Lake Chapala shimmered silver under the moonlight, and on its shore, soldiers continued to bury their fallen comrades.

The priest's prayers drifted on the wind, adding to the desolation.

The general's heart was as heavy as lead.

The shadow of an unfavorable start loomed over the entire army, and the challenges ahead seemed even more severe than anticipated.

These enemies, known as the "New Chinese Army," were not only incredibly powerful, but their tactics were also completely beyond the conventional understanding of the Spanish army.

"General, do you really think this is a good idea?" Major Castro, the adjutant, asked softly, his face full of worry.

Toledo didn't turn around, but simply shook his head slightly: "Good idea? No. But it might be the least bad option. These new Chinese... they are extraordinary. I have a feeling that this war will be long and difficult, and we will face unprecedented challenges."

"General..." Major Castro hesitated, unable to finish his sentence.

“I know the soldiers are demoralized,” Toledo interrupted, his voice low. “What they saw today has terrified them.”

"However, as the commander of the army, I cannot show the slightest hesitation or fear. No matter how terrible the enemy is in front of us, we must still bravely face them and do our best to defeat them."

"..." Major Castro nodded heavily. "General, God will protect us!"

“Yes, God will bless His most devout believers,” General Toledo said, making the sign of the cross. “But sometimes, God tests our faith with calamities.”

General Toledo looked toward Guadalajara, where only the vague outlines of mountains could be seen in the darkness.

But he knew that a powerful enemy force was waiting in full force there.

What troubled him even more was that the enemy's tactical thinking and execution capabilities were completely unlike any opponent they had ever encountered before.
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(End of this chapter)