The Qing Dynasty is about to end

Chapter 685: Oh no, the governor committed suicide after being shot seven times in the back!
The streets of Sacramento were filled with cotton-like ashes. When Amur led his troops into Third Street, they ran into a burning carriage lying across the middle of the road. The horse pulling the carriage had been shot through the stomach by a stray bullet, and its intestines were dragging on the charred road, attracting several vultures circling in the sky.

"Scatter! Scatter!" the Mongolian man shouted in stiff English - he had suddenly rushed into Sacramento with a multi-ethnic coalition force, so it was not enough to just speak Mongolian, he had to say a few words of English.

His coalition forces included 700 Mexican Americans, 1000 Irish or other Americans, and 1300 Chinese Americans - they have now proved themselves to be American enough to have a seat at the table!

Three thousand "Americans of all races" divided into three groups and went into the alley. Flames suddenly erupted from the second floor of a grocery store on the corner of the street - the private soldiers of the four major families dismantled various furniture to use as shelters, and the bullets from the rifles made a Mongolian horse neigh and raise its front hooves, then fall heavily. However, the "American Mongolians" on horseback had already slid off the horse's back before it fell to the ground, and at the same time picked up an M1841 Mississippi rifle and fired back.

The square in front of the state government building became a meat grinder. Charles, the eldest son of the Stanford family, personally carried a double-barreled shotgun and directed the servants to build a barricade with pianos and bookcases. The bodyguards of the Huntington family set up a 6-pound cannon on the top floor of the Capitol. The children of the Crocker family occupied the state supreme court and used their rifles to defend the white supremacist California Constitution. The Hopkins family was small, so Mark Hopkins had to go out in person and lead a group of Irish miners to guard the square in front of the state government building, using the tactic of queuing and shooting to repel the attacks of the Free California Coalition again and again.

The meat-mincing war in Sacramento was hard to tell who was the winner!

"God bless the white people! White people in California will never fall." Governor Weller stood in front of the third-floor window and muttered slogans. His gold-rimmed glasses were stained with gunpowder smoke, and in his hand he held a fine shotgun produced by Remington.

boom!
The oak door of the State Supreme Court opposite the State Government Building was blown away by explosives, and Amur led his men to rush in against the door. Old Tom, the butler of the Crocker family, poured boiling oil from the second floor, and three Mongolian cavalrymen fell into the burning rubble with their faces covered. The white Irish soldiers took the opportunity to counterattack and once again repelled the offensive of the California Freedom Army.

"Hold on! Federal reinforcements are on the way!" Weller shouted frantically when he saw the Free Army being repelled, "The Federal 'Susquehanna' has entered the San Francisco Bay. This shows that the Federation supports us!"

"Governor, look south."

James Crocker, the Crocker banker behind him, suddenly shouted: "There is an army in the south."

"Yes, it's Bigler!" Weller shouted, "Bigler is great."

"No, that's the red flag of the True Joe faction! Bigler was defeated!" Leland Stanford's trembling voice shattered Weller's hope, and there was a sudden silence in Weller's governor's office!
In the marble lobby of Crocker Bank, the crystal chandelier swayed slightly under the vibration of the gunfire. Xianfeng (Zhao Si) sat on the leather chair in the president's office, tapping his fingers rhythmically on the mahogany tabletop. The portrait of James Crocker hanging on the wall was pierced by a bullet, right at the position of the eye.

"I said, we are not here to rebel." Xianfeng said in fluent English, his eyes flicking back and forth between Carney and Leland Stanford. The Irish union president had just called Xianfeng "my dear Gennoser"; while the head of the Stanford family maintained the elegance of the upper class, although his silk bow tie was tilted to one side.

Leland Stanford took out a handkerchief and wiped the sweat from his forehead: "Mr. Zhao, you really sent troops to capture half of Sacramento, but you say it's not a rebellion?"

Xianfeng suddenly smiled, revealing a row of neat white teeth: "Not half, but the total failure is rebellion, success is revolution! This fate, Washington changed it, why can't we change it?"

He took out a copy of the U.S. Constitution and played with it in his hands: "The Naturalization Act of 1790 stipulates that any free white person who has lived in the country for two years can become a citizen. Just tell me if I am white or not? Just tell me if I am free or not?" He took out a pistol and put it on the desk, "Just tell me if I deserve that vote!"

Although Xianfeng was quite ugly, with pockmarked face and triangular eyes, he was indeed quite white, whiter than most white people! And he was definitely a free man.
"But free white people refer to..." Leland Stanford knew that Zhao Si was distorting the spirit of the Naturalization Act - the Naturalization Act did not specify how "white" one had to be to be a free white person, but the legislators at the time "assumed" that free white people referred to European whites, and in the decades after 1790, the definition of "free white people" in the Naturalization Act had never been challenged.

Until now
"boom!"

There was a sudden bang outside the bank, and the whole building shook. Dust fell from the ceiling and landed on Stanford's expensive camel-hair suit.

Carney grinned with his missing front teeth: "You are white, Mr. Zhao, you are the whitest person I have ever seen, you must be a free white person!"

Leland Stanford also suddenly understood: "All the people from East Asia in California are free white people!"

Xianfeng nodded and patted his pistol: "The Constitution really needs to be defended with weapons! But it's not enough for you to say that we are free white people! We abide by the law and we must let the California Supreme Court rule that we are free white people!"

It turns out that Xianfeng came to "fight" the lawsuit with guns and cannons!
Xianfeng stood up and walked to the window. Through the broken glass, he could see the thick smoke rising from the direction of the state government building. "Mr. Stanford," Xianfeng said coldly, "Our demands are not high. As long as the California Supreme Court determines that all Chinese are free white people, they can obtain American citizenship and have full citizenship rights according to the Naturalization Act, is that okay?" "Yes! It must be okay!" How could Leland Stanford dare to say no?
If you say no, the Stanford family will be destroyed!

"Okay, okay, I'll listen to you!" Carney nodded repeatedly. He didn't dare to say no. If he said no, he would lose his head!
Xianfeng nodded with satisfaction. Although he had been trying to kill more white people before, he also knew that among these "equal American whites", some white people were more equal than others, such as the white people with the surnames Stanford, Huntington, Hopkins and Crocker in California. If they were all killed, the white gentlemen in the East would probably be afraid of the "Eastern whites" in California.

The best option is to keep them alive and let them lead the surviving congressmen and judges to judge all Chinese as "free whites". The United States advocates "state supremacy" and "case law". Once the California Supreme Court makes a ruling, it becomes a precedent. Moreover, the state's highest court can "question" the "constitutionality" of federal laws. For example, the California Supreme Court can question the constitutionality of the Naturalization Act!
Although the Supreme Court still holds the final say, the Chinese in California are fighting the lawsuit with guns and cannons. The federal army obviously does not have the strength to defeat the Chinese militia in California. If the Supreme Court rules that "Chinese in California are not free whites", will the eastern states be willing to provide militia and increase taxes to help the federal government attack California?

Therefore, Xianfeng felt that as long as he could go through the procedures, there was a great possibility that the federal side would admit it with a pinch of their nose.

Finally, he said to Stanford and Carney: "As for Governor Weller, give him some respect! Do you know what 'respect' means?"

Governor Weller was awakened by the smell of urine.

On the oak desk in the state government building, the whiskey bottle fell into a pool of yellow water. He fumbled to pick up his glasses and found that the smoke outside the window had dissipated at some point. The setting sun stretched the broken columns of the Supreme Court into long shadows, like a row of gallows.

The corridor was eerily quiet.

"James? Charles?" His shoes creaked on the broken glass. The door of the financial director's office was open, the safe was wide open, and the gold bars were missing. The oil painting "California Light" at the corner of the corridor was slashed with a dagger, and the eyes of the person in the painting were broken.

The door suddenly burst open.

Stanford, Carney, Huntington... and six men with guns. Leland's silk bow tie was askew, and Carney's work clothes were replaced by a tweed coat.

"Where are the reinforcements?" Weller's roar was accompanied by blood foam. "Have the reinforcements arrived?"

Leland raised his Colt revolver: "Two weeks ago, both the Senate and the House of Representatives of the United States Congress passed a resolution... deeming the conflict in California caused by anti-Chinese sentiment to be a 'domestic affair'."

"What?" Weller couldn't believe his ears. "This is impossible!"

boom!
The first shot hit him in the knee, and as he fell to the ground, Weller saw his silver-plated revolver—“White Supremacy” engraved on the handle—slide into the corner.

boom! boom! boom!
The bullet in his back felt like a red-hot nail driving into his spine. Weller dug his fingers into the gold embroidery of the carpet, a gift from the Stanfords when California joined the Union in 1850.

boom! boom! boom!
The last bullet opened his head. Carney squatted down and put the smoking barrel into the governor's hand: "Governor, you have a depression attack..."

When the governor's personal assistant rushed in, everyone had already put on a sad face. The young assistant looked at the seven bullet holes on the governor's body and stammered, "How, how do we report this to Washington?"

Leland pulled out his gold pocket watch. "Just say that the governor was shot seven times in the back and committed suicide."

As the sunset sank into the Sacramento River, an express letter was sent from the state government building: "...Governor Weller committed suicide in his office due to excessive mental stress. California liberals have restored constitutional order and will soon organize a by-election for the governor and the state assembly and the state supreme court. I hope the federal government will recognize it!"

(End of this chapter)