The Golden Nation- California (VIP) AAR

[Andreios II]

Wow I've missed alot! Javier, Alejandro, and Elena all bickering! Not a very good example for the children now is it?
It seems that Elena and Javier are un-wittingly (or not) causing a breakdown of Alejandro's friendship. I wonder if he could stomach leaving Javier for Elena...
In any case let's hope this doesn't get ugly xD

Great ambush and destruction of those Mexicans btw! I hope that the Californians will treat the Natives more fairly than the Americans did in OTL. They could supplement the Californian Army with their skills, like the Cherokee Mounted Rifles.

FORGE AHEAD BLESSED CALIFORNIA!

 

[gis]

Ah, I see! well, still there uncivilized right? and there whole nation is your claim right? then why not annex them? in game-terms: if its the BB then do a two step one.

 

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alex- Well the "desert areas" are full of iron- so they are entirely welcome!

Caligo- I have to say it is nice to feel a bit less hemmed-in ! And the Americans have got a lot of Apache to chew threw before they get to us still, which is comforting...

Andreios- Well the bickering probably will get ugly, unfortunately, but I'm not at liberty to reveal how yet ...

And I like the idea of Apache divisions in the Californian Army actually! So we'll have to see what happens...

gis- Well to be honest, in game terms it you're right, it probably would make more sense to annex them. In story terms, though, it doesn't work out. It's very against Alvarado's principles, it would take a long time to take control of the whole lot (that's true of the game too), and it would bring a lot of people who aren't remotely Californian into the Republic...


I've written tonight's update, but it still feels a little bit bloated so I'm going to try and revise it before I put it up. Plus it needs its screenshots...

 

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The Texan War

Extract from “Independence to Empire, A New History of the Californian Republic” (By Chris Carmack and Michael Connor, Berkeley University Press, published 2007)

The Texan War, which began on March 12th 1846, had no “phoney war” period. There was no bizarre calm before the storm that often accompanies major conflicts. Even despite the haphazard, almost unintentional slide to war, once hostilities had opened the respective armies of the major players- California, the USA and Mexico, rapidly got down to business. It helped, of course, that each had definite plans to execute, based on the supposed overwhelming efficacy of a quick strike against the enemy.

Santa Anna’s pre-prepared strategy was heavily dependant on waging a sudden blitzkrieg. In the west, two divisions under General Ricardo Mora and Don Mariano Vallejo marched through Apache-controlled eastern California to strike at the heart of the Republic- “Operation Reconquista”- while the remainder of the Mexican Army, commanded by Santa Anna himself, launched an immediate general offensive into Texas. The fall of San Francisco, it was reasoned in Mexico City, would knock California rapidly out of the war- and indeed pave the way for re-annexation to the Mexican Republic, while if Santa Anna could occupy Texas in considerable strength, he would have a great deal more leverage for dictating terms to the Americans, who had, after all, gone to war over that very state.

California, too, was quick to respond to the outbreak of war. The Californian forces was split into First, Second and Third armies, who were immediately dispatched to perform their tasks- the defeat of Operation Reconquista, the manning of the southern border with Mexico, and the defeat of General Cardinale of Colombia respectively. The disproportionately mighty Californian Navy, meanwhile, set about blockading Mexico’s western ports. An entirely futile gesture, as only 1% of Mexican imports were cut off even when the blockade was fully enforced, it was enacted by the Californian chiefs of staff merely to persuade themselves that their very large, very expensive navy was going to count for something in this conflict. As it turned out, not one Californian warship engaged a Mexican vessel in combat for the entirety of the war.

The American situation, meanwhile, was more precarious. The USA did not have much of a standing army, just five divisions at the outbreak of the war, and that which it did have was located on the opposite side of the country- having just put down a rebellion in New England. It was forced to rely on volunteer irregulars- the bombastically-named “Patriot Divisons”- to stem the Mexican tide in Texas, along with the solitary former division of the Texan Army, while US troops made the long trek across the continent, and the American reserves were summoned. It was this lack of immediate readiness that was to give Santa Anna an advantage he was only too delighted to exploit.

Within a week, the two sections of the Mexican Army had begun their advance against California and Texas respectively. Mora and Vallejo’s divisions skirted north along the western Californian border, arriving at their arranged rendezvous with the Apache chieftain Mangas Coloradas, who was to direct them to the quickest route to San Francisco, within three weeks. Coloradas, however, had been bought by the Californians. In return for the betrayal of Mora’s troops to an ambush and the hand-over of eastern California and Nevada, California would guarantee the autonomy of the Apache indefinitely- both within and without the Republic’s borders. To the seemingly pragmatic Apache leaders, it was a better deal than they were likely to be offered by either the USA or Santa Anna. They took it, and on 10th April duly sent the Mexican divisions marching through Yosemite Valley and into the jaws of the First Army’s trap- Mora’s army was obliterated, the general himself killed and Vallejo captured by the Republic.

It might have been a calamity for Santa Anna, but the Mexican dictator was buoyed by the headway he was making in Texas. Three Mexican divisions were gradually advancing north and east, investing and reducing the state’s strong-points (the Alamo was symbolically razed to the ground, despite being undefended when the Mexicans captured it). Despite having everything to lose in battle, the meagre American opposition allowed Santa Anna to skilfully bring them to the field. On April 4th, two “Patriot Divisions”, along with the single Texan division, were outmanoeuvred and trapped near the city of San Antonio. Faced with dwindling supplies and a jingoistic local population egging them on- their commander Thomas J. Rusk (a veteran of San Jacinto) elected to try and smash through the Mexican lines. The result was a disaster. Santa Anna allowed the slow-moving, ill-organised Patriot Divisions to become overstretched, then struck at the Texan forces bringing up the rear with his cavalry and artillery. As the beleaguered Patriots turned back to reinforce their comrades, the Mexican infantry swung down on them from behind, their morale dissolved, and the battle became a rout. It lasted in total less than three hours, and left Texas defenceless, humiliated and a very long way from the heroics of 1836. As Santa Anna himself aptly quipped: “The myth of San Jacinto has been wiped out”.

Mexico's rapid mobilisation and Santa Anna's masterful destruction of his enemies at the Battle of San Antonio left all Texas open to attack.​

The news of the war’s two opening battles- at Yosemite and San Antonio- reached San Francisco within a day of each other, on the 14th and 15th of April respectively. Of the two allies, it was now abundantly clear that California was in the ascendancy- and it was the USA who had to beg for scraps from the master’s table. US Special Envoy John Frémont, no doubt through gritted teeth, asked the Californian government to sanction an offensive against Baja or Sonora in order to take the pressure off the United States. To many, this was a golden opportunity to get one up on Washington, and thus a chance that was thrown away through excessive caution on the part of the Republic. However, it is difficult to fault Alvarado and his ministers for refusing to oblige, as they did. If they had allowed Don Tibalto’s Second Army to strike southwards, which the commander himself was eager to do, it would have pitted three Mexican divisions against three Californian divisions, with the former on the defensive- a decisive advantage. Even despite Don Tibalto’s (somewhat exaggerated) commanding skills, there was no sure way of knowing that the offensive would succeed. If it did not, southern California would be wide open to the Mexicans. It would have been a move contrary to the Republic’s established war-plan, taking a substantial risk for reasons that benefited no-one but the Americans.

The Republic’s second front in the 1846 war, General Selway’s campaign against Colombia, was one that brought out all the inherent eccentricities of Californian rule in South America. Selway’s first action once California had declared war on Colombia was to send immediate dispatches to El Salvador, Costa Rica and Panama- asking the “Representative Assemblies” of the three provinces to hold a referendum on whether to join the war or not. These bodies, made up exclusively of natives of each province, were the nominal centres of government and administration for their area- in effect an independent, elected and national parliament for territories conquered and occupied by California. The paradox was that they were not even remotely independent. The Representative Assemblies were well aware that one toe out of line, one act that contravened Californian interests- and the Californian Army would move in, clear the Assembly, imprison the offending members and hold new “free” elections. For a while it had not caught on- the Costa Rican Assembly had been dissolved three times in 1840 and again in 1841, while the Salvadorians had been banned from having one altogether for eight months in 1844 because they refused to accept the levying of an infantry division for the Californian Army, but by the outbreak of war the “leaders” of Central America were thoroughly house-trained. They simply shrugged, considered the Representative Assemblies to be better than a colonial administration and contented themselves with the fact that local government, at least, was staying local. Thus, as the campaign of 1846 began, the Californians could point to the three Representative Assemblies and declare, in something of a perversion of Alvarado’s ideals, that they had the full support of the local peoples in their war.

The actual fighting that took place in Colombia was negligible- General Cardinale’s government, despite its military character, defended itself even more feebly than its parliamentary predecessors had done at the time of the last Californian invasion. After one attempt to turn back the Third Army at Quibdo was utterly trounced- even by a commander so pedestrian as Selway, Cardinale retired to Bogota and occupied himself with sending ludicrously optimistic armistice offers (promising to let the Californians off with just a cash indemnity, for example) while the enemy overran his northern provinces.

The Californian Army advanced easily into northern Colombia- its only opposition being the flood of armisitice offers from General Cardinale in Bogota. ​

In reality, the Colombian theatre of the war could have been over within a couple of months. However, it was again the idiosyncrasies of an avowedly pacifist and non-interventionist power (Alvarado’s government) playing the role of the imperialist conqueror that spun out the fighting. Instead of marching directly on Bogota and dictating terms to Cardinale in his own offices, which Selway’s troops were probably in a position to do from late April onwards, they were forced to wait for the underground liberal forces to rise up and take control of government and then negotiate peace, on the basis that the legitimate leaders of Colombia were now in control. Thus the Third Army, that could have been deployed at any number of highly advantageous points to fight the Mexicans, instead tramped around northern Colombia, destroying skeleton government forces and capturing defenceless towns, waiting for the “right” Colombians to offer them a peace they were more than capable of imposing by themselves. It was not to be the last time that Juan Alvarado’s pacifist sensibilities were to work directly against California’s interests.

By late summer of 1846, it was becoming abundantly clear which way the tide of the Texan War was flowing. With the exception of the somewhat inconvenient and highly embarrassing fact that the Mexican Army was in possession of the entire state of Texas (in which Santa Anna had gleefully set about causing mayhem- declaring the abolition of slavery to take just one example), the allies were poised to deliver killing blows on every front. Cardinale’s government in Colombia was on its last legs as Selway patiently sent ever more generous streams of arms and money to the liberals and radicals in Bogota; the US Army had finally managed to make its way to the front-line, repelling Mexican incursions into Louisiana and even sending a single division into New Mexico; and in the far west, the First and Second armies of California, by the end of August, finally felt ready to launch their long-awaited offensive into Baja and Sonora. Furthermore, Santa Anna had fundamentally underestimated the resolve of the United States- whose government, rather than be deterred by his strong-arm tactics, saw them rather as further indication that war was entirely necessary to stop an evil tyrant on the loose. Santa Anna’s actions were more effective at galvanising American enthusiasm than any of Sam Houston’s fiery rhetoric had ever been.

Santa Anna's early victories and subsequent handling of occupied Texas reinforced rather than weakened American resolve, and by autumn 1846 the US Army was massing for a counter-attack.​

Despite some notable successes, Mexico had failed to achieve a knock-out blow against either of its opponents- and now faced the unwelcome prospect of being slowly crushed in the allied vice from north-east and north-west. It was not without good reason that Alvarado could announce happily to Parliament on September 1st, the day the Southern Offensive was launched, that “the war would certainly be over by Christmas”, despite all the bitter significance that hindsight would afford those words.

 

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Well as long as he doesn't say which christmas it'll be over by he can probably be correct

 

[Cinéad IV]

You'd better be careful with Apache defecting to the Americans: it's not unknown for the Americans to take control of them in the aftermath of a war with Mexico.

Good job in Colombia though. Another puppet to add to your collection

 

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Ah, overconfidence comes before the fall but I never thought even Alvarado would be sucked into the whole conspiracy;

 

[Strategos' Risk]

Quite an interesting war indeed, and once again your excellent faux-historical style makes game history come to life. Love it, as always.

Game-wise, what kind of treaty are you trying to get from Colombia?

 

[gis]

Oh, nice, but you know, I still want to know how people live in Central America, I mean, like you said, its not like there is Don influence there, is there?

But I guess I need to wait until the war is over.

Good progress BTW, thats gonna show the Americans that you are not gonna be annexed by some "larger nation" pfft.

 

[Unrepentant One]

So what are you going to do with Nevada?

Keep it, or trade it for Oregon and Wash.?

 

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Caligo- Nice way to hedge one's bets ! But what if it's to do with the manner in which it ends by Christmas?

Cinéad - The Apache problem is a risk- more on that later... And the Colombia outcome was never really in doubt, but it's still enjoyable!

alex- We're about to see a little more on Alvarado having changed his tune a little bit... But anyway, he'd want it to be over by Christmas regardless on account of his bleeding heart pacifism!

Strategos' Risk- Thanks! And Colombia will be made a satellite, and will doubtless lose some territory in the process to make them a bit more manageable post-war...

gis- I'll return to Central America for you at some point soon, but it probably will have to wait until the war is over (at which point the Central American borders will have changed again!). The American attitude towards the war so far is dealt with in the coming update- enjoy!

Unrepentant One- What will I do with Nevada for the present? Milk it for iron! The Americans don't even have Washington and Columbia yet, so it can't be traded- but we'll see what happens...


The rest- I have noticed recently, to my pleasure, that the view-count seems to be sky-rocketing at the moment. Almost 500 views since the last update! Sweet... Two updates for the price of one now- one history-book, one narrative. Enjoy!

 

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Extract from “Independence to Empire, A New History of the Californian Republic” (By Chris Carmack and Michael Connor, Berkeley University Press, published 2007)

Why, then, did Mexican resistance not collapse, when such a development had seemed so obviously imminent at the beginning of autumn? The first reason was the commendable effort of Santa Anna. The reversal of fortunes was no less obvious to the dictator than to his enemies, and he acted swiftly- cancelling all advances to consolidate Mexico’s frontlines, declaring a second mobilisation that added three divisions to his reserve pool and offering a cease-fire to Yucatan rebels that allowed a further three to march north and join the fight against the USA. These actions were to give the Mexican war effort a new lease of life- and remain testament to the genuine political and military skill of the much-maligned Santa Anna. He was, nevertheless, greatly assisted by his enemies. Among the US military staff there was a growing resentment and suspicion of the Californians, that translated into a spiteful period of inactivity. An influential group, led by President Polk himself, were coming to believe that Hispanic Mexico and (mostly) Hispanic California were conspiring secretly to overthrow Anglo-Saxon America- hence San Francisco’s failure to launch an offensive against Mexico proper while Santa Anna advanced through Texas. The Americans came to believe that California and Mexico had formed a tacit non-aggression pact which left the former free to pursue its agenda in Colombia, the latter free to contest Texas with full strength. Some of the more extreme adherents of this idea were even convinced that the Californian and Mexican governments had fabricated the reports of the Battle of Yosemite and Operation Reconquista in order to make it seem as if the Californians were doing something!

Washington, thus, elected to respond supposedly in kind. Apart from a solitary division in New Mexico that had succeeded in turning the Mexicans out of Albuquerque, the US Army contented itself with “ring-fencing” Santa Anna’s armies in Texas (despite the state’s rapid descent into bloody anarchy), and dragging their feet until the Californians made good on their promise of a western offensive. They did not have to wait long- the “Southern Offensive” began on the 1st September, but it was still a while before the Americans could be persuaded to advance in earnest into Texas (much of their army was anyway still marching west towards the front).

The long-awaited Californian invasion of Mexico proper begins in September 1846.​

In the west, however, the true reckoning between California and Mexico had now begun. Don Javier de la Vega and Don Alejandro del Serrano’s First Army marched into Baja California, while Don Tibalto Barja’s Second simultaneously moved on Sonora, by way of Tucson, Arizona in order to knock out a Mexican division stationed there. California’s grand offensive against the great rival on the southern border was in motion, and the enthusiasm displayed by the public at home in San Francisco or Monterey was matched only by the welcome the troops met across the border- both the First and the Second armies were feted at every stage of their advance into Mexico. It seemed to the Californians that victory might be won without a shot being fired, it seemed to the Americans that Santa Anna was inviting the Californian Army in as part of some unknown, pan-Hispanic machination. As John Frémont declared to the Californian War Cabinet on September 7th: “We need to see Californian blood!”.

They were about to get their wish. In Baja, the First Army ran up against the Piedra Cruces- a Mexican fort that included an artillery bastion set upon a great stone escarpment. Manned by a full-strength division, well-supplied and under the command of the formidable General Cos, the first attempts by del Serrano and de la Vega to storm the Rock and its accompanying trench positions were repulsed with heavy losses and by the end of October the First Army was still unable to continue its advance. After the effortless glories of Yosemite and the veritable stroll across the border, it was a sharp reminder of the true nature of war. Fortunately for the Republic, Don Tibalto Barja’s Second Army had more success. Against half-trained troops under the famously cowardly General Miramon, on a landscape with no fortifications that suited itself to Barja’s viciously aggressive generalship, the Californians swept forwards. The cavalry sent by Miramon to intercept Don Tibalto was thrashed in the second week of the offensive, and by 18th September the Second Army had raised the Californian flag over Tucson, before pressing on into Sonora, where another, much larger, army under Miramon was again trounced and put to flight at Buena Vista. By November, the Sonora offensive was at the gates of Hermosillo, the state capital, and Don Tibalto must have rubbed his hands in glee at the knowledge that his two great rivals- Don Alejandro and Don Javier- seemed to have fallen at the first hurdle.

Don Tibalto Barja's impressive victories in Sonora compensated, to some extent, for the faltering offensive in Baja.​

However, regardless of the fate of individual divisions, things were beginning to look up by mid-November- when Juan Bautista Alvarado visited the frontlines of both armies. The Americans were at last on the move, Colombia’s offers of peace were becoming ever more generous, and California was well on the way to achieving its war aims. It is hard to imagine that Alvarado’s meeting with del Serrano and de la Vega was anything less than a positive one, despite the deadlock at Piedra Cruces.

 

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Gambling With Wolves

Californian First Army Headquarters, near Piedra Cruces Fort, Mexico, November 17th 1846

“To be honest, Presidente,” admitted Alejandro reluctuantly, “it is difficult to see any kind of breakthrough for at least a few weeks more. The problem is the blasted cannon up on the rock- every time any kind of advance is made towards the trenches they can simply blow us to pieces.”

“And you cannot attack the rock?” Inquired Alvarado.

“Si,” interjected Javier irritably, “we can attack the rock- he won’t.” He jerked his head at Alejandro.

“That is not quite fair, Presidente.” Added Alejandro hastily. “I consider it inadvisable. We would be taking a huge risk if we chose to attack the guns, it would cost many hundreds of men even to advance up the slope and were we to reach their positions with our lines intact the outcome of any fighting would be uncertain. Besides which, there remains a possibility that Cos could advance from his trenches if we commit to an attack on the artillery. The risk is simply too great.”

“Too great for who?” Sneered Javier. “Too great for the Californian Army, or too great for you personally Alejandro? Afraid of what your wife will say, are you?”

“Don Javier-” began Alvarado, but the Don cut him off.

“Presidente, it is entirely possible to achieve victory- it could be done tomorrow if my esteemed comrade here was not behaving like a gutless child. It needs only a small force to strike at the artillery in order to occupy them during a general advance. We have a vast advantage in numbers- it is within our resources to fight this battle and win it! I ask you, on behalf of the Californian war effort, to overrule your general and allow me to attack the rock!”

There was a pause. Alvarado looked at both the men before him, the flickering candles casting light and shadow alternately across their faces. “Don Alejandro,” he said finally, “in your opinion, what major advantage would be served with such a risky strategy?”

“None.” Replied Alejandro quietly. “I would recommend, if anything, an advance tomorrow upon the trenches in order to test enemy resolve- but nothing so great as to gamble our entire position and the men of this army as a whole, which Don Javier’s plan will do.”

The President nodded. “Then I order you to do that. Don Javier, it seems to me inadvisable to risk all we have here on such a narrow chance of success.”

“Well,” snarled Javier, “I am not surprised! If that is the kind of craven nonsense you really favour, then I fear for the health of this campaign. Sometimes I feel it would be a relief to have a general of some merit in command- a man like Antonio de Santa Anna, for example!”

“Don Javier, you will withdraw that remark or you will remove yourself from the room!” Retorted Alvarado in sudden fury.

“I think I’d rather leave! I’m going for a walk, good night caballeros!” Javier stormed to the door of the small, wooden cabin, opened it, stepped out into the night and slammed it behind him. Alvarado and Alejandro waited in silence, neither really knowing what to say. Outside they heard the metallic sound of a flint as Don Javier presumably lit a cigarette, then ever-quieter footsteps as he stalked away.

“I’m sorry, Presidente…” Offered Alejandro at length.

“Oh, do not feel you have to apologise, Alejandro, por favor.” Replied Alvarado with a reassuring smile. There was an awkward pause. “Your wife asked me to send her love, by the way- and to remind you to take care…” It was not the conversation-starter Alvarado had hoped, and there was silence again.

“Alejandro, por favor,” he said finally, “I hope you do not lose any sleep over that. It is to be expected! That is the sort of attitude I face every day! The Dons, amigo, are the most dangerous threat to the Republic that exists- more than the Yankees, or the Indians or even the Mexicans! They would rather see California in the Dark Ages than surrender their power- they have no concept of right, only a concept of their own privileges and how to defend them. That ridiculous Duelling Code nonsense, for example- one of them actually implied to me that they would rather invite the Mexicans to invade again than forgoe the right to duel. They are madmen, and it is up to those of us who are not mad to save California from them. It is up to you and I, Alejandro.” Alvarado was staring at Alejandro with a meaningful expression, willing him to agree.

“I need your help, Alejandro.” The President added, and Alejandro looked up in surprise at the notion. “We must work together to overcome the disorders and evils of our nation. I can achieve some things, but with your assistance so much more could be done, because with you I could prevail against the Dons. Those people, Alejandro, Don Rafael and Don Tibalto and Don Javier- they are wolves. They will tear the Republic to shreds if they have the chance, and alone I cannot stop them. But you can. The people love you, the army loves you, the Dons themselves love you! We must have the support of every class of our nation if we are to conquer the threat of those wolves, and together you and I can unite those classes!”

“I do not quite understand what you are proposing, Presidente…” Replied Alejandro hesitantly, looking apprehensively into the man’s eager, pleading face.

“Join with me!” Urged Alvarado again. “That is all I ask. Let your allegiance with these barbarians like Don Javier go, and turn your power, your energy, your popularity to a noble end! I beseech you, Alejandro, for the sake of California! Do not allow the wolves of your class to devour you!”

“I-” stuttered Alejandro.

The door swung open. Javier had returned, and as he entered Alejandro recognised with a sinking feeling a familiar, heady aroma around him.

“Caballeros!” Announced Javier with a wide smile. “I invite you to go ahead with your fools’ mission against Cos tomorrow morning. Dawn, shall we say?” Bewildered, Alejandro nodded. Alvarado followed suit. “Muy bueno!” Said Javier, throwing his arms wide in a gesture of delight. “Then when you advance at dawn, take a look up at the rock. Just have a look at my signal. That will tell you exactly what I think of your bloody risks, muchachos. Good night!” He turned, pulling the door to behind him, and was gone again.

“Do you see?” Hissed Alvarado. “Do you see what we face? That kind of man will ruin California, that kind of man will massacre our people while he plays at politics and war, that kind of man will drive us to our own destruction!”

“That kind of man,” retorted Alejandro angrily, “was and remains my oldest friend. Whatever you may see now, I urge you to be careful how you judge him. Good night, Presidente, if we are to attack at dawn I must prepare appropriately.” He headed for the door.

“Alejandro!” Alvarado called after him. “The hopes of your people rest upon you! I need you, Alejandro, to free California!”

“Until tomorrow, Presidente.” Replied Alejandro, shutting the door behind him as he left.

The Piedra Cruces today- its fortifications having long since been dismantled.​

 

[gis]

gis- ... in the coming update- enjoy!

what makes you think I won't enjoy? Of course I will, an AWESOME Update, I loved it, I see that the Americans are manipulating something good to something bad... so fitting to them. (Of that era of course)

 

[Andreios II]

Hah well it seems that there isn't much co-operation either between nations or between commanders. It's surprising how quickly Javier has become mean and cantankerous. Is it the opium?
Do you intend to annex Baja California and Sonora after the war is over? That would make the Dons happy for sure.
I wonder what path Alejandro will take concerning what Alvarado said... Maybe his sense of honour and duty to the nation will override his sense of obligation to the aristocracy.

 

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Well, DerKaiser has also talked about how conservative Alejandro really is. And since we know there will be a civil war in the Future, it most likely means that Alvarado's desires and hopes all come to nothing as Alejandro probably wouldn't join him. To be honest, I quite like it the things they are.

Opium is evil.

 

[Strategos' Risk]

Maybe it'll end up with all of the aristos and Juarez-style liberal reformers killing each other, leading to a power vacuum filled by a shaky coalition of Anglo cappies and the organized workers, championed by the figurehead of undetermined ethnicity himself, Christian Hamann.

 

[Cinéad IV]

Fantastic as usual

Don Javier needs to stay off the old opium though....

 

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gis- Well thank you! The Americans do seem to have that talent, and this certainly won't be the last we see of them...

Andreios- Well as California would rather like to stay independent, and America would rather like to rule the whole of North America, there isn't that much common ground ! As for Javier, it's at least partly the opium- but that really just makes previously positive aspects of his character more difficult to deal with- his being a "man of passion" turning into his being a "bad-tempered arrogant bastard" !

As for war gains- you will have to wait and see! Because they are v important... (Refer to my reply to alex for the point about Alejandro).

alex- I think the key thing about Alejandro is that he's not really a firebrand politician with major ideals like Alvarado or Tibalto- he's primarily a family man, then a soldier, then a statesman. So he's unlikely to be acting out of heart-felt political principle, and more out of personal loyalty or out of a gut feeling of whose cause is "right", regardless of their manifesto. It remains to be seen, however, how things pan out- there is much to do before the Civil War! Who says Alejandro will even play a part? Who says he'll be alive? (He does and he will... duh).

I can't say I'm opium's biggest fan myself...

Strategos' Risk- Maybe, just maybe... Though I think I can safely rule out a Hispanic self-inflicted genocide without giving too much of the plot away .

Cinéad - Thanks! And it doesn't really seem to be helping his general well-being, I agree!


To all- I owe you a pair of apologies. Firstly for dashing onto this next update quicker than I wanted, secondly because I'm not convinced it's much good anyway. The reason is that it's kind of a part two of the previous narrative update, so I wanted to get it up and over and done with before too much continuity was lost, and so that I could get on with the next part of the story- which will have considerable significance retrospectively. We're also closing in on big big events, which makes me want to move faster! Enjoy!

 

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La Piedra Cruces

Piedra Cruces, Baja California, Mexico, November 18th 1846

Being on the late night watch, reflected Sancho as he pinched his hand in an effort to stay alert, was probably the shortest straw around. There was nothing to do but peer into the gloom, struggle to stay awake and pray for morning while listening to the quiet sounds of twilight in the vast darkness- punctuated at the moment only by the far-off pinpricks of the Californian campfires. Of the five of them there, Sancho reckoned himself to be the only one who was really awake. The only job worse than this would be the late night patrol- the unfortunate dozen or so whose task was essentially the same as Sancho’s own, only they had to do it walking around- not sitting in front of a fire.

Considering which, he thought to himself suddenly, his mind rousing itself drowsily, what the hell were the late night patrol doing not ten yards from his outpost at that moment, marching up the hill? They were wearing what seemed, in the half-darkness, to be Mexican uniforms, they were certainly speaking Spanish, and there were the right number of them. Sancho put one hand on the bell rigged up near the fire to sound the alarm, and then withdrew it as the leader of the party- a strikingly handsome, slightly chaotic looking man- spoke out.

“Wine!” He said, raising a bottle that he carried in one hand. “We found some wine down in a shack at the bottom of the hill!” Sancho withdrew his hand from the bell-rope. Despite himself, he craved the bottle that was being waved in front of him. “We’re the late night patrol.” The man assured him, again proffering the wine-bottle forwards.

“What are you doing down here then?” Sancho called back. “Shouldn’t be coming back in yet!”

“We’re not.” Replied the man, strolling up to him. “We’re just coming up to put the wine down- Californians aren’t moving anywhere tonight, I don’t see any reason why we should parade about down there getting cold while they’re fast asleep.”

Sancho laughed, nodding in assent. “Si, amigo, that sounds fair.” He hesitated. “You know I don’t think I remember your face- what company are you?”

The man smiled and handed him the bottle of wine. “Try it.”

Sancho shrugged, pulled out the cork with one twist of his hand, and looked at the bottle for a moment before taking a long gulp. “Muy bueno!” He exclaimed with satisfaction. “Where’s this stuff grown?”

The unfamiliar man who had given it to him shrugged. “California.” He said simply, and in a movement that was over before Sancho had even registered it beginning, drew his sabre, and plunged it into the Mexican’s chest. His companions, in similarly brutal and sudden fashion, set about the dozing watchmen around the fire. In a few seconds it was over, the bell still hanging silently on its rope.

Don Javier de la Vega picked up the fallen wine-bottle with one hand, the other sheathing his sabre, and poured out the dregs onto the already soaked ground. “What a waste…” He said disdainfully, before, with a nod of the head, indicating his men to follow him up the slope.

The great warehouse of the sleeping artillery post was situated a good way back from the ridge, but it nonetheless proved easy enough to reach. Two conscious Mexicans- one sentry, one poor unfortunate on his way to the latrine- were the only obstacles. Two cut throats later, and a dozen Californians were in possession of every keg of spare gunpowder on the Piedra Cruces. The garrison slept peacefully on, as the Californians traced a series of powder-lines, snaking their way across the broken ground of the fort’s great plateau, tapering out at the warehouse, and at the piles of power and cannonballs that lay, prepared, beside the great guns of the rock- converging on one point roughly between each of the targets. The impregnable cannon-battery of Piedra Cruces had become a ticking time bomb- and it was ready to go off.

Don Javier squinted at his pocket watch in the darkness. Half past five. It couldn’t be much more than an hour or so before the Mexican garrison would be awakened by the Californian offensive in the valley below. One hour to wait. “Bueno.” He announced to the awaiting group of Californians. “Well, I have one more pressing need to attend to, but I think you can all disappear now. I will wait and light the fuse.” They looked around at each other hesitantly. “Well?” He demanded. “Vamos!”

He watched the soldiers go, hurrying into the darkness back the way they had come, and then turned and strolled to the warehouse. Kicking the door open and stepping over the fallen body of the sentry, he peered around and found what he was looking for. Picking up the keg of oil in both hands, he strolled away. What, after all, was the point of making a spectacle, if you couldn’t put your own stamp on it?

***************​

Alejandro closed his pocket watch with a snap, silently cursing Javier for failing to turn up. Six forty-five. Time to go. They could not delay any longer. He looked over to the bugler to his right, raised his sabre and then let it fall. With a crisp, brazen series of blasts the man sounded the attack, and the Californian troops began to advance. Marching first, their rifles held high and the flag borne proudly before them, they broke into a jog, and then a run, and then a headlong dash, each of them with one eye on the Piedra Cruces high above on their right. Alejandro, too, was watching the fort from back at his command position. The great guns were silent, motionless, even as shouts and the sounds of bugles began to rise from General Cos’ trenches away in front of them. The beating of his heart might have been a clock counting down. It had happened this way three times before- and in a matter of moments the cannons on the ridge would start firing. To Alejandro’s left, Alvarado sat erect in the saddle- his face grim and sallow, more so than Alejandro have ever seen it before. He, too, was waiting.

High up on the rock, the Mexican soldiers were falling in. Their commanding officer was berating them, driving them into line with his shouts: “Hurry up, there! The alert has been sounded! Do you think this is a nursery, boy? Wake up, you! Californians attacking!” The shouts, the orders, the chaotic attempts to form up in their battery crews and companies drowned out all other considerations. This was war after all. No-one had, as yet, stumbled upon the two dead men concealed behind the latrines. No-one had thought to relieve the sentry posts, most of whom were enjoying an unexpected sleep, one of whom would never wake again. No-one noticed the dark rivers of gunpowder, avoiding the parade-ground, that flowed silently and unmovingly across the fort, connecting just about every explosive object on the rock to one point. And, of course, no-one noticed the man in uniform who had sauntered away in the opposite direction to the hastily assembling soldiers, and who, now alone, laconically lit a match and set it to a small heap of powder from which the numerous lines were leading away. “Mucha suerte, amigos.” He murmured to himself, and then strolled easily away, as the fizzing, hissing sparks raced off along their tracks.

Alejandro was still waiting. The first shots were being fired far ahead at Cos’ trench-line as the Californians swarmed forwards. It was all too easy, and at this rate the fighting would be over within half an hour, yet it had been just this way before. All too easy, until the Mexican artillery started firing, and for that they could only wait.

It began. With a great boom, the first shot was fired, and instinctively Alejandro’s gaze fixed on his advancing troops- waiting to judge the accuracy of the artillerists, praying that they had, by some chance, managed to strike a patch of bare ground. But no shot fell. There was no crater, no blast, no plume of smoke or eruption of flying dust, no screams of the wounded or dying. The Mexican guns had not fired. And now there was another sound, and this was not one explosion. It sounded like a hundred explosions all at once- crashing and echoing like the whole course of a thunderstorm expended in the blink of an eye, followed a great, roaring rush- a vast bonfire rising to its greatest height in a split-second.

High up on the Piedra Cruces, the Mexican battery was consumed by fire. A great pall of smoke was rising, towering high in the weak light of the early morning as flames began to spread along the shattered artillery positions on the ridge. And emblazoned upon the ridge itself, facing outwards on the slope that came down towards the Californian encampment, a great, bright fire was burning. A fire burning in the shape of a huge letter Z.

“El Zorro…” Said Alejandro aloud, shaking his head, and then turning to see Alvarado’s utterly bemused expression, added, “The day is ours, Presidente.”