From Don Sebastián's vast estates they gathered up every store of grain, silver, and goods, then moved through other farms of Puebla, stripping them as thoroughly as time allowed.
The grain truly overflowed—far beyond imagining.
It took five days to return to Mexico City. With too few horses, soldiers themselves hauled the wagons by hand; worse, the makeshift carts constantly broke down.
Axes cut fresh timber by the roadside to patch wheels and frames. A ramshackle procession. Still… At least no fools tried to plunder us along the way.
At last they reached the capital. Already, on its outskirts, hundreds of wagons stood in rows: the plunder of estates seized throughout all Mexico.
"They are even building new warehouses," one officer remarked.
"Yes," another replied. "Since these goods cannot yet be sold into coins, space is desperately needed."
Before independence, Nueva España had used Spain's real—most notably the eight-real silver coin, the Spanish dollar. After independence, Mexico would issue the peso, founded on the decimal system. But at this moment, so soon after the long war, coinage was scarce, the economy chaotic.
True to his word, Colonel Fernando stripped even the uniforms and boots from soldiers to ensure no contraband was smuggled out; officers themselves were frisked. Thus did the seized goods finally reach temporary storehouses before a report was made to the emperor.
Fernando gave his account of the clash at Sebastián's granaries, and of Javier Paredes' treachery.
"So—there was a man who tried to spirit away goods first?" Agustín I's brow darkened.
"Yes, Your Majesty."
"The speed is understandable, if he had a courier ready the moment my speech ended. The real question is—who supplied him with the knowledge? Investigate this with all rigor, Colonel."
"It shall be done, sire."
The emperor turned his gaze upon the crown prince.
"And you—when battle broke out, I told you to stay hidden. Yet I hear you fired the cannon yourself, killing the enemy commander?"
"…Not I, Father. Lieutenant Manuel aimed carefully and fired. I only watched."
"The report says Manuel intended to target enemy ranks, but that you proposed the closer shot at the general. Is that so?"
"…Yes, Majesty."
"Then the credit is yours as well. Without that decision, the battle would have dragged on, casualties multiplied. Is that not so, Colonel?"
"Indeed, sire. Without His Highness's suggestion, both sides would have bled far more heavily, and we might have lacked the men to carry the goods at all."
"Good. Then Manuel and the crown prince both deserve reward. Colonel, be assured: the officers who led this operation shall receive decorations and honors."
Fernando bowed. "We are grateful, Majesty."
When he departed, the prince ventured to ask the question that weighed on him.
"Father… what will you do with the funds we have secured?"
He feared the emperor might squander it all on the army, or rush to pay foreign debts outright.
"For now, I am paying the arrears of salaries owed to civil officials and soldiers," Agustín replied. "At first I thought to wait until all goods had arrived and the ledgers were clear—but the warehouses overflowed, and so I pay wages now, charging officials to record, and soldiers to guard the cargo. Loyal men, whom I can trust."
Hm. He seems to be managing wisely.
"And once all arrears are paid, Father—what then?"
The emperor tousled his son's hair, no longer with the indulgent eye he had first shown, but with the confidence of a man who beheld a dependable heir.
"Why, have you a proposal? My thought is to retain more clerks, to normalize the administration and safeguard the estates. What do you say?"
Perhaps I underestimated him…
"That is sound. But silver must be preserved—resuming mining is urgent, so that coinage may be struck. Without coins in circulation, the economy falters. If funds remain, perhaps we should purchase silver mines."
"Coinage… I had meant to address it later. But yes—you are right. We have money now; let us begin at once."
Indeed, Mexico had long been a land accustomed to currency. With silver in hand, minting could resume with little hindrance.
Soon came the ceremony.
"…For distinguished merit in this campaign, Colonel Fernando Cortés Mendoza is awarded the Order of the Eagle, with promotion by one rank."
Agustín I decorated the officers who had led the confiscations: medals, promotions, and stipends. All were loyal monarchists, for he had entrusted the operation only to them.
Thus does he bind the army yet closer to himself.
The republicans, already marginalized within the ranks, found themselves outstripped. Those without fervent conviction sought avenues to switch sides; others, humiliated to see juniors raised above them, resigned outright.
Back pay and bonuses alike—he has the soldiery firmly in hand. At least the central army now is wholly his.
Some received two-rank promotions, such as Manuel, raised now to major, rewarded for battlefield valor. For the enemy had not been only provincial commanders: bandits, landed lords with their peasants, and all manner of foes had been encountered. The army had prevailed in every clash, though not every warehouse was secured; some had been emptied by riders with advance warning.
So—who could send couriers at once, the moment my father finished his speech? Only those already rich and powerful.
Thieving scoundrels.
At the ceremony's end, the prince himself was summoned.
"…Agustín Jerónimo de Iturbide, Crown Prince of Mexico, is awarded the Order of the Eagle, with a stipend."
Though no soldier, and so denied promotion, he was honored publicly for the decisive cannon shot that had ended the bloodiest battle.
So—he takes care to reward me as a son, not merely as heir.
The grand investiture in the Zócalo became a symbol: the confiscation complete, government effective. The people rejoiced, and even the republicans in Congress could not stem the tide, for soldiers, clerks, and conservatives alike supported the crown.
"Your Highness—thanks to you, I have received a reward beyond my station," Major Manuel said afterward.
"No," the prince laughed. "It was your steady aim. I am the one who should thank you."
"Nay, it was you who commanded me to strike the general."
They laughed together.
Truly, this is a victory on three fronts at once.
For beneath the conflict between republicans and monarchists, another great fault-line ran: federalists versus centralists. The republicans were mostly federalists—local power-brokers cloaking themselves in liberal ideals. Their alliances with provincial commanders were sealed by marriages, as Agustín himself had once been married into a great landowning family.
But now, interrogations bore unexpected fruit. A provincial officer, once under General Paredes, broke under pressure and betrayed the truth.
"It was a republican deputy. He sent a messenger straight from the speech to his son-in-law, with the list of expelled landowners, urging him to spirit away their wealth at once."
A staggering revelation. This was not mere leakage of information—it was collusion in theft.
Though the assembly had reconvened within the hour, that single hour had sufficed.
Agustín I raged, ready to crush them all. But the crown prince interceded. He whispered to the guilty that evidence was in hand—and that if they betrayed their fellows, they might be spared prison. One by one, they broke.
In the end, twenty-nine deputies were exposed, out of two hundred one. Their seats stripped, their estates seized, fines imposed so vast as to beggar them, many faced prison besides. Even conservatives numbered among the guilty—though some, operating alone, escaped exposure.
Lawless it may be—but in such lawless times, power is all.
"At least with this, enough silver can be purchased. The minting proceeds apace."
From the silver seized—plate, ore, coin—new pesos were struck, stamped with Agustín's likeness. Normally, new coinage faces distrust. But with the warehouses full, each peso was redeemable in kind, and so it circulated smoothly.
Still, silver was scarce. The fines levied upon guilty deputies would allow the government to buy mines as well.
It was then the prince raised his true petition.
"Father. Do you remember the 'favor' I once asked?"
"Yes. You said, if confiscations succeeded, you would speak it. What is it?"
"I would open the northwestern territories."
"Alta California?" Agustín frowned. "Nonsense. That land lies months away—four, six months at least. For a crown prince to waste his youth upon the road? Better you study. I will send you to any school you choose."
If only it were so simple… But time is death. While I idle, the Americans advance.
He steadied his voice.
"Father, if we do not secure California, the Americans will. Already they pour westward from Louisiana. They have already entered Texas. They will settle, claim the land theirs, and their government will press us. If I go privately, at my own cost, the deputies cannot object. But if we wait for Congress, they will block it—and your strength is needed elsewhere."
"…I never dreamed this was your request. But I gave my word. Very well. You may go. Yet you must not part from the guard I assign you."
Agustín's eyes were heavy with worry. But the prince's own eyes already saw the glittering horizon—California, and the gold that awaited.