So it was done—he had been given a handsome sum. Such was the scale of an aristocratic landowning family.
The decoration his father awarded him came with a reward of 5,000 pesos.
Another 5,000 pesos—reluctantly granted when his father acquiesced to his son's persistent request.
Then came 7,000 pesos from his mother, moved by his declaration that he intended to lead a pioneering expedition to California.
Thus, in the blink of an eye, the prince came into possession of seventeen thousand pesos.
And with the thousand pesos he had quietly amassed himself, the total rose to eighteen thousand.
Considering that the average laborer of this era earned one peso a day—twenty to twenty-five pesos a month—it was a staggering fortune.
To think a common worker's forty months' salary had been sitting idly in his room—he was fortunate no one had stolen it.
In the nineteenth century, the value of silver and gold coins was often determined not by the issuing country, but by weight and metal content. The Mexican peso, with its silver content equal to that of the Spanish dollar, held a value of approximately 0.2 British pounds.
And given that a single pound of that time would be worth 50 to 60 modern British pounds in 2022 terms, one peso equated to roughly 13 modern U.S. dollars.
Which meant he now held the equivalent of 234,000 modern dollars—some 320 million Korean won.
He sat down and calculated carefully.
Land? No need to worry about that. In this period, unsettled land was abundant, and the government often granted it freely to those bringing settlers. Though there were no formal laws for it yet—and opposition in the assembly was likely—it wouldn't be hard to obtain land at minimal cost, especially given the civil servants' goodwill toward his father. The major gold-rich regions would need to be claimed early.
He tallied the cost of settlement supplies, gold mining equipment, provisions for continuous resupply, wages for miners, wagons and horses. It would be tight, but not impossible.
If he scraped together every last peso, the initial settlement could proceed. For now, he would focus on surface panning and open-pit mining. Full-scale subterranean excavation could come once the first results were in.
His father assigned a former acquaintance, Major Manuel, as his personal guard commander. Under Manuel's leadership, two companies—each with a captain and 25 soldiers—amounted to 3 officers and 50 soldiers in total.
With their support, he began recruiting families for the California expedition.
Offering land, farming tools, provisions for the journey, and initial funds for settlement proved more than enough incentive. The response was overwhelming.
"Did I misread that? Read it aloud again."
"Is this condition real?"
"The Crown Prince himself will lead the expedition! There's no way it's a lie!"
Given that forced relocations under the pretense of settlement were not uncommon in those days, the offer was suspiciously generous.
Within just two days, more than 100 families had applied, far exceeding his initial quota.
Due to the long and arduous journey—four to six months—pregnant women and families with infants were excluded. Exceptions were made for those who could provide their own wagons and horses, and only healthy families with teenage or older children were accepted.
He would've liked to accept more, but funds were limited.
Though it was indeed a settlement expedition, its true objective was gold. He needed not only farming equipment but also mining tools, and devices to extract and refine gold on-site—it would be inefficient to transport ore by wagon.
And then there was the matter of livestock, wagons, food, and labor wages. Supporting more than 100 families was impossible.
The Farewell
"I still can't help worrying. Must you go in person?"
His mother clutched his hand, voice full of concern. He reassured her with a calm smile.
"Don't worry, Mother. I'll return within a year. And with the guards, there's little that could go wrong."
Her anxiety was understandable. Mexico, ravaged by over a decade of war for independence, had become a land rife with bandits. And he was the eldest son—beneath him were four princesses and only one younger prince.
She held his hand tightly.
"I'll come back safely, Mother. Please, don't worry too much."
"Let him go," his father, Agustín I, interjected. "Even I disapprove of the Crown Prince venturing all the way to California, but if it's for the Empire's benefit, then so be it. Besides, a grown man must pursue what he believes in."
The emperor clapped a firm hand on his son's shoulder.
"But never forget—you are the Crown Prince of the Mexican Empire. Your safety comes first. Understood?"
"Yes, Father."
Then the emperor turned to Major Manuel, standing tensely by.
"Take care of him, Major."
"Yes, Your Majesty! I shall guard him with my life!"
The emperor continued, eyes turning serious.
"The Assembly seemed quite pleased to hear you'd be leaving for California. Apparently, your performance in the chamber left quite the impression. They're clamoring now to expedite constitutional drafting—something they've long delayed."
"I shall take that as a compliment. I trust the affairs of Mexico City to you, Father."
"Indeed. Compromises will be necessary, but we'll be able to fill the 29 vacated seats with loyal men. Leave the politics to me—just return safely."
"Yes, Father. Then I shall depart."
The wagons were packed with provisions and tools. One hundred settler families and fifty soldiers—nearly 500 people in total—along with guides and other personnel, awaited him.
He embraced his mother one last time.
"I'll return."
"Travel safely, my son."
He, Major Manuel, and the lead guide mounted their horses at the head of the convoy.
Whatever happens—I must succeed.
He clenched his jaw as the journey began. Every coin he had went into this expedition.
The round trip alone would take ten months. Setting up the colony and mining gold would take no less than six more. He had to plan for at least eighteen months.
It had been three months since he'd awakened in this body. Three months spent securing trust—an irreplaceable currency. If this failed, he'd have wasted nearly two years.
And with those years lost, he wouldn't have the strength to stop the cascade of crises that would soon engulf Mexico.
The Texas rebellion, its independence, and eventual annexation by the United States—that storm was coming. By now, Stephen Austin, the so-called father of Texas, would have already arrived.
Stephen's father, Moses Austin, had secured a Spanish contract for colonization before Mexican independence—bringing 300 settlers in exchange for land subsidies. Though he died before fulfilling the deal, Stephen inherited the mission and pressed on.
On January 3, 1823, Stephen personally visited Mexico City to renegotiate the contract with Agustín I. In the original timeline, the emperor had approved it outright. But this time, the prince had arranged for changes.
The original deal was far too generous. Even if it was vacant land, the scale was absurd.
Historically, each settler was granted 4,605 acres—4,428 for ranching and 177 for farming. Stephen Austin himself received a staggering 67,000 acres for every 200 families he brought.
This deal turned Texas from a mere 300 settlers in 1823 into a bustling American population of 20,000 by 1830.
The United States, observing the explosive growth and fertile land, began eyeing Texas greedily.
In 1827, President John Adams offered Mexico $1 million for Texas—and was refused. In 1829, Andrew Jackson raised the offer to $5 million, and was again rebuffed. But Mexico's refusals meant little.
In the end, the Americans of Texas revolted on their own, declared independence, formed the Republic of Texas, and then merged themselves into the United States.
Mexico, powerless, could do nothing.
Though the United States was still in its youth, it was a giant compared to newborn Mexico.
Mexico could barely contain the Texas rebellion, let alone resist American aggression.
This time—it would not happen that way.
The prince had already advised his father to accept Austin's proposal—but with adjusted conditions.
Immigration is fine. Land grants are fine. But strict control must be imposed. And the land granted must be far less.
He slashed both the settlers' and Austin's allotments in half. Colonization would be subject to Mexican oversight. Most critically, for every American settler, a Mexican one must also be planted in Texas.
These conditions aimed to weaken American identity, enforce assimilation into Mexican culture, and minimize land loss.
They were harsh compared to the previous contract—but he didn't care.
If they refuse, so be it. Better that than losing Texas.
March 1823
As Crown Prince Jerónimo de Iturbide's California expedition pushed through a series of towns on its way to Sacramento, fierce debate gripped the Mexican Empire over the drafting of its constitution.
The 29 seats vacated due to embezzlement had been divided through political compromise—20 to the conservatives, 9 to the republicans.
But the balance of power had shifted.
Mexico was stabilizing at an astonishing pace. The Emperor's power was growing. The republicans could no longer rely on obstructionism.
Eager to finalize the constitution before they lost further influence, they pushed forward. But Agustín I and his conservative allies saw no urgency.
"111 republicans versus 90 conservatives. Still too short."
"Yes, Your Majesty. They must still believe they have options—they remain defiant."
The republicans championed a British-style constitutional monarchy—wherein the king or queen remained head of state and retained veto power, but real governance lay with ministers and a cabinet.
Agustín I found this unpalatable. Though he would compromise somewhat, per his son's counsel, he still had cards to play.
"It's time to trim their power further. Are the transfers prepared?"
"Yes, Your Majesty."
Since the successful seizure of assets from the corrupt, the Assembly dared not challenge the Emperor's military authority.
To be precise, they objected, but had little legal ground. Agustín I had been supreme commander since the independence war. Curtailing his command now lacked justification—and public opinion offered no support.
Backed by the central army and conservative lawmakers, the Emperor moved freely.
Now, he intended to seize control of the regional militias.
Most local commanders were federalists—supporters of decentralization, aligned with the republicans.
Agustín I replaced several top officers in regions formerly tied to corrupt lawmakers.
The official reason: failure to properly oversee their subordinates.
Arrival
"Are you certain this is the place?"
Jerónimo pointed at a spot on the map.
"Yes, sir. I know this region like the back of my hand."
The guide's voice brimmed with confidence.
So this is where Sacramento stood in my former life—the capital of California. That must be the Sacramento River. Ha…
He was overwhelmed.
Five months—it had taken nearly five months.
Ten hours of travel each day, almost without rest.
People might think riding a horse isn't difficult, but it's no comfort. The pain in the hips and thighs from long hours forced him to alternate between walking and riding.
But they had made it.
They arrived safely, against all odds.
It had been a gamble.
With a guide who claimed to know the route, and a detachment of guards, he believed it possible. But five months on the road—through bandit-infested lands, past rural lords ignorant of the Emperor's face or authority—anything could've happened.
"...There's truly nothing here."
"Well, we'll just have to build it ourselves. Haha!"
"Right. Let's begin."
He turned to the settlers whose eyes sparkled with hope, and shouted,
"We've arrived!"
A thunderous cheer erupted.
"Waaaah!!"
"Finally!!"
"We're here!!!"
Sacramento, California—blessed with vast gold reserves, a perfect climate, and among the richest agricultural potential in the world.
Here, the settlement began.