The Qing Dynasty is about to end

Chapter 765 Everything is ready, just waiting for the south wind (asking for monthly tickets, asking for double monthly tickets)
July 1863, America, on the banks of the Mississippi River.

The setting sun once again dyed the scorched earth of Vicksburg bloody, and the charred tree stumps pointed feebly to the sky. Xianfeng, wearing a Confederate woolen uniform and carrying the rank of lieutenant general on his shoulders, stepped on the ground full of broken iron spikes and walked into the front trench. In front of the trench, half of the Union Army's blue uniform was hung on the wire mesh wrapped around the wooden stakes. When the wind blew, the cloth fluttered, as if someone was still struggling.

Chen Yucheng, who had returned from the Taiping Heavenly Kingdom, squatted beside a mortar artillery position, holding a 12-pound nitrate-sugar blasting bomb in his hand, with the words "Medecin Mexico" crookedly engraved on the shell. He heard footsteps behind him and said without raising his head: "Governor Zhao, am I right? Is this mortar plus nitrate-sugar blasting bomb a powerful weapon to defeat the Northern Army's Gatling gun? As long as we have those "Mexico-made" shells, Chilean nitrate and Cuban sugar, we can keep defending!"

Zeng Jia Linshu knocked the wire mesh with his whip. "General Chen, the skills of your Taiping Heavenly Kingdom blacksmiths are really getting better and better," he grinned, revealing a few yellow teeth, "There are iron spikes wrapped around this wire. How are they made?"

Chen Yucheng quickly shook his head and said, "Old Zeng, please don't accuse me of my innocence. This barbed wire and this bullet shell are all made in Mexico. Look, there's 'Medecin Mexico' engraved on the bullet shell. It has nothing to do with the Taiping Heavenly Kingdom!"

These barbed wires stretched on the front line of Vicksburg and the shell casings of the 12-pound mortar of "Medecin Mexico" were all brought by Chen Yucheng from the Taiping Heavenly Kingdom - but the place of origin was washed as Mexico. In theory, they were all hand-made by Mexicans and transported to the United States by Mexican "bullet owls" on small steamers, and had nothing to do with the Taiping Heavenly Kingdom.

Xianfeng sneered and glanced at the pile of corpses outside the barbed wire. Vultures circled over the pile of corpses, swooping down from time to time to peck at a corpse with a captain's shoulder straps.

"Made in Mexico." Xianfeng snorted. "Okay, but what about the Union Navy commissioning two ironclad ships a month? In a few months, the southern coastline will have to be blocked by the Union Army. By then, will the Mexican 'bullet smugglers' be able to smuggle shell casings over? And how about Cuban sugar and Chilean saltpeter?"

Chen Yucheng waved his hand and said, "Why think so far ahead? Perhaps if we win the Battle of Mississippi, the North and the South can negotiate peace."

Before he finished speaking, the roar of a steam boiler came from the river bend. It was Zhang Bao's steam "patch boat" towing a chain pontoon to adjust the blockade line on the Mississippi River. In addition to the trenches, barbed wire, and fortresses in Vicksburg on land, Xianfeng's black army also pulled a "floating blockade line" composed of iron chains and wooden boats on the Mississippi River to cooperate with the artillery on the shore to resist the Northern Army's fleet.

During this period, every night the black army would launch a "fireboat night attack", and before the attack began, Zhang Bao had to command the steam "patch boat" to tow away a section of "iron chain raft" to allow the "fireboat" to pass.

At this time, the new commander of the Second Black Brigade, Hedehai, emerged from the depths of the trench, his gray woolen uniform stained with mud, and the bandage on his forehead oozing with black blood. He saluted Xianfeng and said in a hoarse voice, "Governor, the Yankees charged ten times today! They all used 12-pound Napoleon cannons and various breech-loading cannons to plow the land." He gestured the trajectory of the bombardment, "They knocked out six of our multi-barreled gun turrets, and blew up the barrels of three Mitellius multi-barreled guns."

Chen Yucheng frowned when he heard this: "It's crooked? Can it still be used? This French gun is very powerful. Fifty barrels fire at the same time, and the shotgun shells are like a rain of iron!" He waved and called over a multi-barreled gunner from the West Coast, "Teach Zhao Shuai how you dealt with the Yankee skirmishers during the day?"

The gunman was a "native Californian" who spoke with a Cantonese accent and danced with joy: "The Yankees holding the Star-Spangled Banner rushed through the pile of corpses. As soon as they touched the barbed wire, our Mitellius opened fire! Fifty gun barrels fired at the same time. The Yankees in the front row fell like wheat being cut. The ones in the back stepped on the corpses and pushed forward, but were caught in the barbed wire and could not move."

Xianfeng turned his head and looked at the front line outside the trench. Outside the barbed wire, two Northern Army bodies were overlapping in a strange posture - the young soldier's hand was still holding the old soldier's belt, as if he was still dragging his comrade before his death.

"What happened next?" Xianfeng kicked the severed limb away from his feet.

"Later, the Yankee supervisors used pistols to force the human wall to charge," Hedhei wiped the blood from his forehead with a handkerchief, "The three barbed wire fences were crushed by the corpses, and a major led more than 20 people into the trenches."

Suddenly, there was a sound of metal clashing at the corner of the trench. Everyone turned around and saw three black soldiers stabbing a Union Army corpse with bayonets for fun. The intestines flowed out of the ruptured abdomen, leaving sticky trails on the scorched earth.

"That bastard!" Heidehai spat. "When he led his men in, he shouted 'Send the niggers to hell', and I shot his head off with my revolver!"

As dusk fell, cheers broke out from the corner of the trench. Dozens of black soldiers stood in a row, their chests puffed out and their eyes flashed with wolf-like green light. Zeng Jia Linshu unfolded the flag-raising certificate and read in Hunan accented English:

"Tom Jefferson! Score 180, raise the black flag! Reward Colorado, acres of fertile land in Lewis River Valley!"

A lame black man walked out of the queue with a cane, his eyes sparkling. Zhao Si pinned the Bronze Cross on him and whispered in English: "Work hard, and after the war, you can earn another 100 or 200 points and use them to exchange for black serfs. Then you will be the master."

No wonder Emperor Xianfeng had to keep an eye on McMullen for the black serfs. It turns out that they were not only cannon fodder, but also spoils of war. If they were killed, they would be cannon fodder. If they made meritorious service, they would become masters. If they did not make meritorious service and were not killed, they would become black serfs and be given to black masters as prizes.
"Peter Adams! Killed two Yankees, awarded two black coat contracts!"

A black sniper soldier holding a Minié rifle walked up to Xianfeng, saluted, took the bondman contract, and grinned: "Haha, I now have two black slaves. After this war, I will be a real black master!" Xianfeng patted him on the shoulder and laughed softly: "What's the point of having black slaves? Fight well, accumulate another 300 points, and get a big white wife!"

Amid the cheers, Xianfeng suddenly saw a trembling new soldier, so he asked his new guard captain Hei Fugui to pull him over: "Did you see that corpse?" He pointed at the Northern Army major hanging on the wire mesh, "Yesterday he was a master, but today even his black slaves can step on his corpse and become landlords! This is what we call kings, princes, generals, and ministers, are they of the same kind?"

The recruit's Adam's apple rolled. He could not understand the last Chinese words that Xianfeng said, but he suddenly grabbed a broken bayonet on the ground and shouted: "Kill the Yankees! Become the master!"

That night, the Mississippi River.

Twenty sampans were hidden in the reeds, with kerosene cans stuffed with white cotton strips piled randomly on the bows. In the shadow of the bastion gun turrets on the shore, three hundred black-clad death squads were tying gunpowder cans to their bodies. A boy of sixteen or seventeen suddenly cried out: "General, spare me! My mother is still growing cotton in Tennessee."

Zhang Bao swung the scabbard and smashed it over, and the young man fell to the ground with a groan.

"Don't cry!" Zhang Bao glared at the young man fiercely, "Beat him to death and go to heaven. In your next life, you'll be a white master! Burn the Yankee's ship and when I come back I'll make you a flag bearer and reward you with 100 acres of land in Colorado. Then you'll be a real master!"

Several black guards tried to sneak away, but were shot dead on the spot by the "American" supervising team who were watching from all sides. When the bodies were thrown into the river, Zhang Bao stepped on the side of the boat and grinned: "Did you see? This is the fate of deserters!"

At this time, Xianfeng had already ridden his horse to the shore, and whipped the crowd with his whip: "Everyone who survives tonight will be rewarded with 10 more points! For those who die, their families will give 50 more points!"

At midnight, the steam-powered patch ship spewed out thick smoke, and under its urging, thirty wooden boats rushed to the river bay like black fish. As a result, they encountered the Union patrol ship "Monitor-7" halfway through. This Union inland ironclad ship fired several flares, and the sneak attacking sampan fleet was immediately in chaos.

"Fire!" the captain roared, and two Gatling guns spewed out flames. The bow of the wooden boat in the front was hit by a piece of wood chips, and the kerosene cans piled on the bow were ignited, and the whole boat was engulfed in fire. The black cloth soldiers on the boat next to them jumped into the river in fear, but they were burned by the burning kerosene floating on the water and howled like ghosts.

"Surrender! We were forced!" The black soldiers on the third boat threw away their torches, knelt on the bow and raised their hands. The Union sailors hooked the side of the boat, and the captives immediately cried: "The Confederate Army only has three broken steamboats left. It was Zhao Si and his yellow monkey who forced us to die."

The firelight deep in the river bend was reflected in Xianfeng's telescope. He could only hear him muttering to himself: "After ten days of continuous delivery, the northerners should be relieved, right? Now, we just have to wait for the south wind! Everything is ready, except for the south wind!"

Amid the roar of machine guns, flames shot up into the sky on the Mississippi River. The naval officers and soldiers on the Union Army's inland ironclad ships and transport barges crowded in the U-shaped river near Vicksburg cheered.

The next morning, on the flagship of the Union Mississippi Fleet, the River Queen, Grant, smoking a cigar, coldly examined the captives on the deck. A black boy was trembling, crying, and looked like he was in a state of collapse.

"How many ironclad ships does the Confederate Army still have?"

"Report, report to the general." The young man's teeth chattered, "The Southern Army only has three inland ironclad ships left, and they dare not go into battle. Those yellow monkeys forced us to row wooden boats."

Grant lifted the boy's chin with the tip of his boot and said, "I heard your master is exchanging land for heads?"

"It's one point per acre. No, it's all a lie!" The boy suddenly broke down and cried, "The Colorado deed is not even good enough to wipe your ass in Tennessee!"

The naval staff officer leaned in and whispered, "General, the Southern Army has been attacking with fire for ten consecutive days, using only wooden boats, and the number of wooden boats is decreasing day by day."

Grant nodded and turned his attention to Vicksburg in the south. The Confederate navy was failing, but their army was still strong. This war of attrition could still be fought!
Suddenly, a gust of river wind blew over, making it difficult for Grant to open his eyes. The River Queen also shook. Grant whispered to those around him, "It looks like a strong wind is coming. The hurricane from the Gulf of Mexico is very strong! Let most of the ships go ashore to avoid the wind, and leave some ironclad ships to watch the waterway."

(End of this chapter)