Chapter One: A Letter from Afar
No matter how the Americans beautify the Battle of Texas, it cannot change its aggressive nature, so Franz intended to lend a helping hand.
The methods used by the Americans to subvert Texas were not sophisticated. They diluted the local Mexican population through large-scale immigration, much like boiling a frog in warm water. By the time the Mexican government noticed, the number of American immigrants had already surpassed the local Mexican population.
As the newly arrived American immigrants constantly clashed with the indigenous Native Americans and Mexicans over water sources and land, the Mexican government was forced to take action, issuing a new decree banning the entry of American immigrants.
However, given that Texas was vast and sparsely populated at the time, and the Americans had no intention of obeying, the Mexican "Anti-Immigration Decree" became nothing more than wastepaper.
In 1824, under the strong demand of domestic Catholic forces, Mexico announced the abolition of slavery. By 1830, outside of Texas, slavery no longer existed on the Mexican mainland.
The American immigrants had no intention of abiding by Mexican laws; they continued to establish plantations everywhere and purchase black slaves.
Demanding the release of slaves was simply unacceptable to the American immigrants of that era.
One must realize that before the outbreak of the American Civil War, black slaves were a vital economic pillar of the American South.
Cutting off someone's livelihood is akin to murdering their parents, which destined there to be a war between the Mexicans and these American slaveholders.
By 1835, sensing that the time was ripe, the United States simply incited Texas to declare outright independence.
Subsequently, the Mexican president personally led a campaign, only to suffer heavy losses at the Alamo and end up captured at the Battle of San Jacinto, forcing him to sign the Treaties of Velasco recognizing the independence of Texas.
The reason the Mexicans suffered such a disastrous defeat was certainly because the United States far surpassed Mexico in military strength and social organization capacity. Yet, the Mexicans were not entirely without a chance; at the very least, they should have been able to inflict a painful blow on the Americans.
On January 1, 1836, Mexican President Antonio López de Santa Anna decided to personally lead an expedition to Texas.
"Mr. President! Mr. President! There is a letter for you!"
Rubio, Santa Anna's newly appointed vice president, shouted anxiously.
"Rubio, you are the vice president now, not my dispatch runner. As a high-ranking state official, you should act like one."
"Yes, sir!"
Ever since he started out as a dispatch runner, Rubio had followed Santa Anna closely and was his most trusted subordinate.
Santa Anna was fundamentally a soldier. He had little interest in politics, yet was sensitive to power, which did not stop him from delegating all state affairs to former Vice President Farias while retreating into the military camp to act as a general.
The latter, upon obtaining presidential power, wished to make a grand achievement. He first initiated a series of government projects, then cut the military, increased taxes, and restricted the power of the church, resulting in an empty national treasury and widespread public grievances.
Finally, under the joint pressure of the military, the church, and the people, Santa Anna had no choice but to dismiss Farias and replace him with his adjutant, Lieutenant General Rubio.
Yet this Lieutenant General Rubio was, after all, merely a dispatch runner at heart, though Rubio rarely showed such agitation.
Santa Anna became somewhat curious about the origin of that letter.
"Whose letter is it? Let me guess, could it be Andrew Jackson?"
"No, sir, it is a letter from the royal family."
"The royal family?"
"It is a letter from the royal family of the Austrian Empire, sir."
Santa Anna somewhat excitedly took the letter, the signature on which read Archduke Franz Karl.
"You may leave, mister."
"Yes... yes, Mr. President!"
After Rubio departed, Santa Anna stared at the letter with great excitement, because it opened with the words: "My dear brother, Santa Anna."
This Santa Anna had enlisted in the army at the age of 16 to join the Mexican War of Independence, initially joining the Spanish army before switching to the insurgent forces. In 1829, for tenaciously resisting the final offensive launched by the Spanish, he was hailed as a national hero.
Following Mexico's victory, some even hailed him as the "Savior of Mexico," yet Santa Anna modestly replied, "I am the Napoleon of North America."
In North America at that time, whether the United States or Mexico, both were viewed by Europe as barbarian lands, and gaining recognition from Europeans was exceedingly difficult.
Yet now, a member of the Austrian royal family actually addressed Santa Anna as a brother. One must remember that after Napoleon III came to power, he repeatedly failed to gain recognition from European countries, and the Tsar even used the address "My friend" to intentionally humiliate Napoleon.
At this moment, Santa Anna's mood was as thrilled as when the island nation of Wa was granted the imperial title of "Japan."
After opening the letter and reading the first two paragraphs, Santa Anna was in high spirits, already regarding this Archduke Franz Karl in his heart as his own sworn brother from another mother.
For such an arrogant person, the proper approach was naturally to flatter him first.
Franz highly praised Mexico's act of abolishing slavery, affirmed Santa Anna's achievements over the years, and strongly condemned the aggressive actions of the American immigrants.
These were precisely the things Santa Anna most hoped to see, and he was already prepared to send an envoy to Austria to establish diplomatic relations.
Santa Anna continued reading, and the words that followed left him utterly shocked.
The letter accurately detailed the current state of Mexico: the country was plagued by factionalism and deeply divided, the national treasury operated at a deficit, military forces were severely inadequate, weapons were antiques from the previous century, and most importantly, there was a traitor in his inner circle.
That there was an American traitor around Santa Anna was merely Franz's own conjecture.
After all, the Battle of San Jacinto was far too bizarre. Putting aside how the Americans managed to cut off the retreat route of the Mexicans without the latter noticing and successfully launch a surprise attack in broad daylight,
simply tracking Santa Anna's route of movement should not have been so easily mastered by the Americans.
One must remember that at that time there were no mobile phones or telephones, and much of the intelligence had to be relayed by human messengers.
Messages had to be transmitted to the camp, troops assembled, infantry marched out, enemy retreat lines cut, and finally a surprise attack launched.
In the end, the Mexican army lost 700 men, while the Texan army suffered 11 dead and 28 wounded.
If all of this were mere coincidence, the odds would be astronomically low.
Franz believed that there must be a spy around Santa Anna, and regardless of whether hitting the target yielded results or not, he decided to thrash the bushes anyway—just in case he happened to hit something.
As for the country being plagued by factionalism and division, the national treasury facing a deficit, and military strength being severely deficient—these were precisely the current realities of Mexico.
Santa Anna could not help but fall into deep contemplation. Although he trusted his subordinates, the fact that an archduke far away in Europe knew his country's current situation so clearly inevitably forced him to doubt the security measures of his own staff.
Finally, Franz offered a series of solutions: co-opt the Catholic Church, mend relations with the media, and at the same time, Austria intended to sell Mexico a batch of arms consisting of twenty thousand rifles, dispatch two military observers, and send one professional tabloid editor.