The Qing Dynasty is about to end

Chapter 733 This is a war between capitalist America and feudal America!

Washington, White House.

President Davis' quill pen made the final stroke on the draft of the Three Francisco Ordinance, which had just been voted through by both the Senate and the House of Representatives, marking a leap forward in American (Southern) society - from slavery to feudalism in one step!

Of course, the feudal system in the American South is still very rudimentary and imperfect. The main problem is the lack of an emperor or king. If Davis could wear a purple robe, it would be perfect.

However, compared with the capitalist industrialization in the northern United States, the feudal serfdom of the United States still seemed too backward.

"Gentlemen," the American president took off his glasses and rubbed his nose bridge amid applause. His expression had become very solemn. "We now have the 'Eight Banners System', the 'Three Feudatories Law', and the support of European powers and East Asian powers. It seems that everything is going well. But don't forget that our enemy has a population more than twice ours. It has the second largest industrial strength in the world and a 400% food self-sufficiency rate. Moreover, their factories can offer wages twice as high as those in British factories, and they can also allocate large tracts of land in the east and west to implement the 'Homestead Act'. Our enemies are still unprecedentedly powerful! So we must complete the mobilization as soon as possible, use speed to defeat the slow, and defeat them in one fell swoop before the war potential of the North is fully developed!"

The American president's eyes swept across the faces of his cabinet members: "I want you to return to your respective states and tell the plantation owners there that there is as much land on the west bank of the Mississippi River as they want - anyway, the Indians have been cleaned up by President Andrew Jackson. If they feel it is not enough, the Yankee land can also be given to them in the future, as long as we can win!"

The vice president's pipe creaked between his teeth. "But all the blacks are going to the army. Who will grow cotton for us?"

President Davis didn't know what to do, but he still had Xianfeng as his senior adviser.

"Mr. Vice President, your worry is really unnecessary!" Xianfeng said with a smile, "If we win, we can have as many black serfs as we want. Even if the black slaves in the United States raise their flags, we can import more black slaves from Africa!" His pockmarked face suddenly sank, "But if we lose and Lincoln's 46% tariff is imposed, your plantations will go bankrupt, and black slaves and black serfs will be useless."

General Robert Lee nodded heavily: "That's right. If we lose the war, we will lose everything." He looked at Davis and said, "Mr. President, I need 50 new soldiers as soon as possible, and I also need enough guns, ammunition, clothing, horses, and rations."

"Christopher!" Davis interrupted Robert Lee and turned his gaze to Christopher Meminger. "The Treasury Department must do everything it can to raise military funds for the Army Department. It must be quick! We can't afford to delay!"

Finance Minister Meminger smiled bitterly and spread his hands: "Mr. President, it is impossible for the Ministry of Finance to provide military expenses for so many troops."

"You can issue public bonds!" The Jewish Minister of Justice Benjamin reminded, "You can go to London and Paris to issue bonds and borrow money from British and French bankers, even if they offer an interest rate of 10% or even 20%."

"What about the collateral?" Meminger frowned. "Without collateral, we can't issue debt even at 30% interest."

“There are silver mines in Nevada!”

Xianfeng's pockmarked face flickered under the kerosene lamp: "In addition, as long as the bankers in London and Paris believe that we can win, they will definitely subscribe to our bonds enthusiastically. And as long as we can mobilize enough black baoyi and poor white people, we are worth investing in."

"Bishop Zhao, this is not business!" Brackenley interrupted Xianfeng, "This is American freedom! It is everything to us!"

Davis suddenly grabbed the bell and rang it: "Call the telegraph operator in! Send a message to the capitals of all states: Any white man who can bring 30 black slaves into the army will be directly awarded the rank of second lieutenant and become a platoon leader. White people who can bring 90 black slaves into the army will be made captain and company commander. If anyone can directly recruit 3000 black slaves to serve as soldiers, he will be made a colonel and brigade commander!"

Georgia, Southern United States.

The cold December wind blew through the cotton fields of Tara Plantation. Zengke's white flag copper waist badge jingled on the straight gray uniform. Five hundred black slaves huddled in front of the barn, and old Jeff's tattered felt hat was blown into the mud by the wind, revealing his gray curly hair. Master O'Hara's whiskey bottle made a dull sound on the oak barrel: "You bastards! This Master Zengke was a black slave last year, and now" he took out Zengke's white flag certificate and waved it in everyone's hands, "he has raised the white flag and became the head of a regiment. Now he eats bacon every meal and receives military pay every month!"

Zengke jumped onto a carriage full of cotton bales and burst into English with a southern accent: "I was shot three times in Manassas! The first shot hit my left shoulder." He ripped open his shirt, and the hideous wound made the crowd gasp, "But the Yankee's bullets couldn't kill me, but my bullets killed five northern white people!" There was a burst of applause in the barn, and several young black slaves slapped their thighs.

Zeng Ke suddenly raised his voice: "I am a real white person now. Last week I picked a white girl as a maid in Atlanta! Her skin is whiter than milk!"

The black slaves outside the barn all showed an expression of disbelief - black people can also hire white girls as maids? Isn't this a bit too equal and too free? O'Hara nodded heavily: "Yes, I have seen that white girl!"

Zeng Ke glanced at Scarlett under the eaves with lustful eyes. The girl's green silk skirt rustled in the wind. He took a breath and said loudly, "After the war, I will go to Texas and build a manor ten times bigger than Tara! Put up a monument at the door - Master Zeng Ke is here to colonize!"

The old black slave Jeff clutched his rusty sickle and shouted, "Zenke, but the white masters always say that we are born lowly and can only be slaves, not masters."

"Bullshit!" Zeng Ke suddenly yelled half a sentence in Chinese, then switched back to English, "Wasn't Mr. Washington also a slave of the British back then?" He shook the gold-rimmed "Pure White Banner" certificate from Mr. O'Hara, "This thing was not given by God, but I paid for it with my life! Bishop Zhao of the True Contract Sect once said: White aristocrats, are they of any kind?"

The crowd suddenly fell silent.

Scarlett's emerald earrings swayed in the wind, and she saw her father O'Hara's hand on the holster.

Zeng Ke was unaware of this, and he raised his pistol towards the cloudy sky and pulled the trigger: "If you want to raise the flag, follow me and kill the Yankees!"

O'Hara gritted his teeth and loosened his grip on the gun. "Who's willing to follow me to the front line? Maybe you're another Zeng Ke. If you sign up now, you'll get half a pound of Virginia tobacco!"

That night, the wine cellar of Tara Manor was filled with cigar smoke, and a dozen slave owners clinked their glasses of wine, with Georgia accents mixed with the sound of abacus.

"We can take 30% of the black slaves' points? Then my Tommy is worth at least a thousand dollars. He is as strong as an ox!"

"Idiot! You should choose a nigger who can hunt. Last year, my nigger killed a brown bear with a musket."

The bronze chandeliers of New York's Federal Hall, where the U.S. Congress was held, cast pale shadows over the marble columns.

Senator Sumner waved a copy of the San Francisco Ordinance and shouted in a Massachusetts accent: "Gentlemen! The Southerners are going to turn the Midwest into a feudal fiefdom! From Appalachia to the Rocky Mountains, it will be filled with barbarians who will trade points for territory!"

The congressmen nominated by the Wall Street bankers frowned and whispered to each other. The representative of the Pennsylvania Railroad put out his cigar on the draft of the Homestead Act and shook his head repeatedly. It was obvious that the situation was not good. Suddenly, all the noise was interrupted by the sound of a gavel. Lincoln slowly stood up with the help of the podium, his face was terribly blue.

"Eighty-five years ago, our grandfathers wrote in Philadelphia: All men are created equal." His Kentucky was calm and firm. "Today, Jefferson Davis and others announced in Washington: All men are born equal!" The president's finger slid across the high-hanging map of North America. "They measured humanity with whips, and we connected the future with rails. They exchanged slaves with points, and we watered freedom with sweat!"

The union-nominated congressmen from the Great Lakes region began to stamp their feet, and the Republican senators from Chicago cheered at the top of their lungs. Lincoln held up two documents: "The Homestead Act will give every brave man who dares to defend freedom 160 acres of land - not a reward from the rich and powerful, but a reward from the United States! The Mobilization Act of 1861 will recruit a million citizen soldiers - not slavery, but a call to freedom!"

Suddenly, a sneer pierced the applause. Rhode Island Senator and textile factory owner Hopkins stood up and said in a sarcastic British accent: "Mr. President, the cotton of the South..."

"It will rot in the ground!" Lincoln slammed his fist on the podium. "Even if England's looms need raw materials, we can make all the cotton in the South rot! Because we have weapons more powerful than cotton - warships made of steel! I have instructed the Navy Department to do its utmost to speed up the production of the 'Liberty' class ironclads (the 'Dongfang' class of North Korea). When our ironclads are spread all over the coastlines of the southern states, the feudal lords in the South..." The president suddenly raised his voice, "can only guard the moldy cotton and lament in history books!"

Amidst thunderous applause, senators representing northern states voted to pass the Homestead Act and the Mobilization Act of 1861!
At the same time, the slave auction house in New Orleans Harbor put up a sign that read "30% premium for black slaves joining the army." In the stable of Tara Manor, Scarlett was stuffing her mother's silverware into an oak box - she had just mortgaged the last fifty acres of cotton fields to raise the equipment money for three hundred "black coats" for O'Hara.

When the bell of the New York Stock Exchange rang, the bonds issued by the Northern federal government were snapped up by bankers. President Lincoln wrote to General Grant and General Sherman: "Don't worry about the crazy expansion of the Southern Army. The feudal army will never be able to defeat the vast ocean of free people."

(End of this chapter)