I Became The Crown Prince Of The Mexican Empire - Chapter 135



Only Noblemtl

Mexican-American War (8)

At the command center in Trinidad City, various types of information were reported several times a day.

The interior of the command center was a complex mix of tension and busyness. Numerous documents and maps were spread out on the desks, and large strategic maps with the latest information hung on the walls.

An information transmission network built along land supply lines operated 24 hours a day, with the Navy’s information being reported immediately through the port of Galveston, to which the telegraph was connected.

The urgent click of the telegraph rang out whenever a report from the Navy arrived.

“It is reported that the successful blockade of New York Harbor has begun as of March 15th.”

“Boston Port also in March···”

By late March, reports began to trickle in that major American ports had been blocked.

Beginning with the blockade of Charleston, the largest southern port near Mexico, the blockade was expanded to include the most important ports of New York, Boston, Philadelphia, and Baltimore.

“It is reported that three ironclads, whose steam engines were damaged during the battle, will be at least six months away from being ready for action again.”

“Okay, I see.”

Intelligence inside the United States was also constantly being reported by military intelligence agents.

“Ha, a guy who doesn’t know shame is good at instigating.”

This is what General Fernando Cortez Mendoza, Chief of Staff of the Imperial Mexican Army, said of James Polk:

We have received reports from military intelligence agents that between 1,800 and 2,200 men are being drafted each day in the United States.

“Taking into account travel time, we estimate that 150,000 troops could be assembled in Memphis by the end of April.”

The staff officer who had been listening to the report from the side quickly finished his calculations and reported.

“At that level, the force we’ll face in Memphis will be similar in strength to ours. But wouldn’t it be a ragtag bunch that just filled up the numbers in a hurry?”

Lieutenant General Ignacio, in charge of the Mexican 4th Army Corps, spoke lightly, but General Fernando thought differently.

“It’s not a problem that can be viewed so simply. On our side, we passed a law on large-scale conscription in advance, conducted a census to select those who would serve in the military, and even mobilized the railroads laid across the country. With all that preparation, how many people did we conscript each day?”

“I remember there were between 2,500 and 3,000 people a day.”

“Yes. But the problem is that the US drafts 2,000 men a day. The draft rate being this high means that the American people’s will to go to war has significantly increased.”

When his senior, Captain Fernando, said so, Lieutenant General Ignacio had no choice but to agree.

“I guess you could look at it that way.”

“Not only that. Consider also the fervent resourcefulness of the Indian people who had a grudge against America.”

It was the story of those who were forced to migrate to Mexico under the ‘Indigenous Relocation Agreement’. Their resentment for having endured the harsh ‘Trail of Tears’ by the United States was not something that could be forgotten in just a few years.

It was not the case that the Indians who were driven out to America gathered together as a group and made a resolution. It could not have been like that. The tribes were scattered all over the place due to the strong assimilation policy of the Mexican Empire, and they were living with people of various nationalities and races.

There was no need to gather together as a group and make a resolution. The major incident of the war with the United States, which broke out in the midst of our busy lives, naturally brought back past grudges.

Most of the adult males from tribes that had traveled the Trail of Tears volunteered to enlist, and the Mexican government was astonished by the overwhelming enthusiasm.

“···Now that I think about it, it seems like a really great thing.”

Lieutenant General Ignacio corrected himself.

“But, there’s nothing related to immigration? Tell them to report it as soon as possible.”

As the crown prince, who had been quietly listening from the highest seat, spoke, the headquarters became busy.

Orders were transmitted by telegraph to the immigration offices at Galveston and Veracruz, and reports were soon received.

“It is reported that from last December to the present, a total of 40,000 Irish immigrants have entered through the ports of Galveston and Veracruz.”

“40,000 people? Well, that’s about 10,000 people coming in every month. Please take measures to fill as many vacancies as possible in industrial sites.”

“yes!”

***

In April, the Mexican Empire’s Third Army Corps began to advance south toward New Granada.

Although it was a smaller force than a normal legion, at 60,000 men, it was three times the 20,000 men hastily assembled by the government of New Granada.

“Ha, this weapon brings back memories from right after independence.”

This was the impression of Mexican military leaders who observed the Colombian army through their telescopes.

In fact, most of the Colombian army’s weapons were old flintlock muskets sold to them by the Mexican Empire.

“Tread on it in one breath.”

“Yes! Advance!”

Colombian forces attempted to block Mexican forces at Veragua, in the north of Panama, but were repelled.

It was embarrassing to even call it a battle.

The forcibly conscripted troops had no will to fight, and their armament consisted of flintlock rifles and artillery only.

“Fire!”

“firing!”

Boom! Boom! Boom!

In a normal battle, it would be much more advantageous to take up position first and prepare for defense. However, the enemy’s weapons had a range that was far greater than that of the Colombian army.

“What the f*ck!”

“What kind of defense is this!”

The enemy was already happily pouring out bullets and shells from a distance, but our weapons were not reaching them.

Even if they mustered up the courage to step forward, most of them died without being able to fire a single shot.

“This, this is just dog death!”

The Colombian army’s ranks began to crumble rapidly. They had been brought in by force in the first place. The enemy had overwhelming power and there was no chance of victory.

“Don’t run away!”

“Anyone who runs away will be killed!”

Here and there the shouts of Colombian officers could be heard, but in the face of the rapidly advancing Mexican Empire troops, they too had no choice but to give up the fight.

“Retreat! Retreat!”

The Colombian army was pushed back every time the Mexican army advanced, and each time a huge number of soldiers were lost.

“Surrender! Don’t shoot!”

Desperate Spanish cries echoed throughout the battlefield.

Now the soldiers preferred to throw down their weapons and raise their hands rather than run away.

“···Those who have thrown down their weapons and are raising their hands, proceed carefully so as not to be shot.”

At some point, it became confusing whether this was a battle or a rescue operation.

The faces of those being captured were filled with relief that they were ‘alive’, and every time the Colombian officers retreated, they had to make the absurd threat, ‘If you don’t retreat and stand still, we’ll kill you!’

***

“You’d better decide before the military arrives.”

It was an arrogant and blatant threat.

With his private army of over 1,000 men, and the workers working on this huge farm, over 6,000 people would rush to kill the author at his word.

Jose Rodriguez was neither a king nor a nobleman, but here, his word was law.

But he could not give the order to capture this insolent man, because it was discovered that there was an army of 60,000 men behind this man who had come alone without fear.

As if to prove his confidence, there was no fear to be found on the face of this Mexican spy.

“···I’m sorry, but I don’t have the authority to decide such things. The Mexican Empire isn’t even a federal state in the first place.”

His voice didn’t tremble, but the anxiety hidden within it was hard to hide.

“Haha, you are the one who actually rules this region, so if you don’t decide, who will? And there is already a precedent for regional leaders in Central America to ask our Emperor to join them, so what’s the point of a federal state or something like that?”

The area known as the Capitanía general de Guatemala during the Spanish colonial period requested to join the Mexican Empire led by Iturbide after consultations between representatives of each region, even though the Central American region had declared independence separately from Mexico.

Rodriguez also knew this well. Everything he said was just excuses.

“Are the terms you proposed before still valid?”

“Yes, but as I said before, there are limited spots, and those spots will go to those who show up first.”

“···I will cooperate.”

It was a pivotal choice that could change history, but Rodriguez had already made up his mind.

If he joined the Mexican Empire, he would most likely lose the power he enjoyed in the region, but he would also be given a suitable title, which I thought was a bit odd.

No matter how much of a local power he was, as long as there was a war going on and there was no way to stop the Mexican Empire, Mexico could take everything, including his life.

If he had thought the country was important, he would not have ignored the government’s request for military service in the first place. What was important to him was the safety of himself and his family, and if it was too late, the crown that the Mexican Empire had promised would be taken away by someone else.

“That’s wise. Then sign here.”

What the Mexican spy handed over was a statement.

It criticized the incompetence and corruption of the New Granada government, which had started a war with Mexico for the selfish desires of its rulers, and agreed to join the Mexican Empire for the future of the region.

Swish swish-

Jose Rodriguez took a deep breath, closed his eyes tightly and signed.

***

Starting with the southern metropolis of New Orleans, to Baton Rouge, the capital of Louisiana, to Natchez near the border of Louisiana and Mississippi, and to Vicksburg, Mississippi.

The Mexican 1st Corps advanced at a rapid pace.

The city people watched the movements of this legion from their windows and along the streets, their eyes filled with complex emotions.

“Americans, can we just hand over these cities like this?”

Dequan Torres, a young man of Comanche descent, muttered, It had been two months since they had marched without fighting.

“It would be better for us if we could occupy it without fighting.”

“I volunteered to kill those Americans.”

When Dekwan said that, the mestizo youth answered with a trembling face.

“···I heard there’s going to be a fight in the next city anyway.”

“okay?”

That was true.

By mid-April they had joined the 2nd Corps and watched them cross the river. There was little for the 1st Corps to do, as there was no enemy to block the crossing.

April 29, 1846.

The 1st and 2nd Mexican Army Corps and the Imperial Fleet reached Memphis.

A total of 145,000 troops and over 80 warships began targeting Memphis, a city responsible for logistics along the middle reaches of the Mississippi River.