Chapter 725: Xianfeng's military participation

The coal smoke at Charleston Railway Station was so smoky that people couldn't open their eyes. Xianfeng, who was sitting in the VIP waiting hall, covered his nose with a silk handkerchief and looked at the messy South Carolina recruits on the platform. These farm boys in gray cloth uniforms were stuffing rifles and luggage into the carriage, like a group of big-headed ants moving.

"Zhao!" Brigadier General McMullen, wearing a faded blue military uniform, suddenly came out of the steam. The former governor of the Washington Territory and Xianfeng were old acquaintances. "I heard that what committee did President Davis arrange for you to be the chairman of the committee?"

Xianfeng smiled and turned into a group with a smile: "Brother Mike, you have a good news. I am now the chairman of the American Serfs Committee, and I am specifically responsible for promoting progress in the United States." He glimpsed the star on the other party's epaulette, "Wow! Have you become a general?"

"It's just a watchdog in Washington." McMullen took off his military cap and fanned, and quickly walked into the VIP waiting room where Xianfeng was. "The Pennsylvania Corps of the Rebel Sherman is only a few dozen miles away from Washington." He suddenly raised his voice and said proudly, "Two weeks ago, a rebel infantry regiment composed of Irish immigrants heard that our General Li was going to attack, but he mutinized in Yorktown, saying that he would rather go home to grow potatoes than work hard for the vampire on Wall Street."

Prince Vasily suddenly interrupted in Russian: "Serf soldiers are more reliable than free soldiers - during the Crimean War"

"What did this Russian say?" McMall looked at the bear-like Russian suspiciously. Xianfeng quickly explained: "This is Prince Vasily, an expert in the serf issue of the Rakshasa Kingdom. He is here to help us implement advanced serfdom. We have just discussed the "Interim Measures for the Eight Banners of America."

As soon as the wooden door of the VIP waiting room was closed, Scarlett, who came to the train station to see Xianfeng off, sent Zeng Ke to make some drinks. When the black slave who was about to go to Washington with Xianfeng back with a silver pallet, he heard Xianfeng filming the "Interim Measures for the Eight Banners of America" ​​yelling: "As long as you open a window for the niggers to penetrate the two white flags, they can flatten all the rebels in the north for us!"

"Are you crazy?" McMullen slapped the coffee table, "Let the niggers join the army to fight? Are you not afraid that they will turn against Lincoln?"

Master O'Hara's cigar shook off a piece of ashes: "All the thirty black slaves in my manor signed a blood letter."

"Blood Book?" McMullen's blue eyes were about to pop out of his eyes. "You should know how unreliable they are when you know what those black people do in Haiti."

Father Tupolev suddenly crossed his chest: "The 31st chapter of Numbers records that Moses asked the Israelites to go to war with weapons."

"Father!" McMallen pulled open the collar in annoyance, "This is America, not fucking Palestine!"

Prince Vasily shook his head and said, "The 1860 census shows that if black slaves are excluded, the 11 southern states in the United States will only have about 6 million people, while the north has more than 20 million people. The gap is too big!"

"So you must use the blood of the nigger to fill this hole!" Xianfeng slapped the table suddenly, "These black people are hard-working and strong. As long as they can inspire their fighting spirit, they will definitely not be worse than white people!"

Scarlett suddenly sneered: "Zeng Ke, show the general your ability."

The black housekeeper put down the tray and pulled out a knife, while Scarlett took out an apple and threw it at the VIP room door. Zeng Ke shook his hand and the knife shot down the small red apple to the ground without any bias.

"Good boy!" Prince Vasily sipped the vodka, "It's even more accurate than the flying knife handle of the Moscow Circus!"

McMallen paused and asked, "Hey, are you nigger willing to fight?"

"Will!" Zeng Kezhong pointed, "As long as you have the chance to be Mr. Bai!"

McMullen asked: "How many such niggers are there?"

"Charleston can find thousands, and the whole south can make hundreds of thousands." Xianfeng's face was glossy, "Send them a gun casually and send them to the most fierce battlefield - those who survive, and give them a black flag status; if they die, they will be reincarnated as Master Bai in the next life!"

A long whistle suddenly came from outside the window. Another train drove from the south. McMullen's blue eyes narrowed into slits: "President Davis probably won't agree."

"He will agree." Xianfeng took out a copy of the Charleston Courier. "Lincoln just formed an alliance with North Korea and bought a North Korean ironclad ship. Something wrong with our cotton dealing with Europe."

"Damn Koreans." McMallen cursed, then picked up a glass of Charleston's rum and took a big sip. "Zhao, if you want me to support you, then please direct a brigade of black men to the battlefield to compete with the Yankees. If the nigger can really fight, then I will support the "Interim Measures for the Eight Banners of America."

Hearing McMullen's request, Xianfeng couldn't help laughing: "Okay, okay, just say it!"

This is an opportunity to get involved in military power! Xianfeng, who knows how fragrant military power is, would never miss this opportunity.

Although this military power is a bit "black", the "black military power" is also military power. Now America is a chaotic world, and if there are soldiers in troubled times, it is the king of grass!

Washington, white house.

Davis stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling window and drank half of the bourbon in his hand. The battle report brought by Breckenridge was still spread on his desk - Sherman's Pennsylvania Legion was gathering in Yorktown, posing as if he was going south to attack Baltimore. Grant pulled a new legion in West Virginia, threatening Washington from the southwest.

"Mr. President, General Li needs at least five new divisions." The words of the Army Minister were suddenly interrupted by the notification outside the door.

"President, General McMullen and Bishop Zhao are here."

"Oh," Davis turned around, "please invite them in."

The door of the Oval Office was opened, and then McMullen and Xianfeng walked in one after another. Both of them were wearing military uniforms. Xianfeng also hung a colonel rank!

"General McMallen, why did you call Zhao Si?" Davis looked at Xianfeng in surprise, "He has bad legs and feet and is not suitable for joining the army."

"He's not a soldier," McMullen pointed to Xianfeng's epaulette, "He's a colonel. South Carolina militia colonel!"

Davis narrowed his blue-gray eyes: "Col. Zhao, can you fight?"

"I will also help the United States formulate the most advanced serfdom!" Xianfeng took out the bound "Interim Measures for the Eight Banners of America" ​​and spread it in front of Davis.

"Nonsense!" Davis picked up the "Interim Measures for the Eight Banners of America" ​​and watched it for a while, then jumped up immediately, "Let the niggers be soldiers with guns? Why don't you let us put the noose directly around our necks?"

Prince Vasily waved his fluffy slap: "In 1812, my grandfather took Ryazan's serf soldiers and followed Marshal Kutuzov to drive Napoleon out of Moscow. As long as the master can give the serfs a little benefits, their combat effectiveness is no worse than that of the Tsar's guards."

"Yes, yes!" Xianfeng's English language was fast and urgent, "We just need to draw a cake for the niggers to carry two white flags. These niggers who are determined to be Master Bai will definitely be more capable than the white soldiers in the south!" He settled the score with his browned fingers, "President, don't worry about how many two white flag masters will appear after the war. Kill twelve northern soldiers to produce a black man in the white flag, and give 10,000 black man in the white flag, which can kill at least 120,000 northern troops. This is a killing! You can calculate, this transaction is sure to make a profit!"

Breckenridge picked up the battle report on the table and said to Davis: "Grant recruited 50,000 miners in West Virginia, and his army has reached 80,000. The number of the rebel Pennsylvania Legion in Harrisburg is almost approaching 100,000! We currently have only about 100,000 front-line main force."

Four times the population and forty times the industry are not a joke!

"Mr. President, think about it again." The sneer on Mazi Xianfeng's face was twisted, "When the gunshots of the black slave soldiers sounded, the ruthless words of the 'liberation of black slaves' would become a joke! And those European politicians who thought they had conscience would completely abandon Lincoln's pseudo-government. At that time, there would be only one North Korea left in the world who was Lincoln's friend!"

"Only one North Korea is left." Davis suddenly grabbed the pen and drew a splash of ink on the charter: "A black experimental brigade was formed in Charleston, with Zhao Zhaosi as the brigade commander." He stared at Xianfeng with blue and gray eyes, "If a nigger turns his gun."

Xianfeng grinned: "I will twist his head off with my own hands!"

At 26 Broadway Street, New York, Lincoln's slender figure was pulled even more rugged by gas lights. Navy Secretary Wells rushed in with a telegram: "The Southern Devils want to arm black slaves! They have made an "eight-flag system" to make black slaves use black coats, as if they were introduced from China."

Secretary of State Seward, who came in with the Minister of the Navy, was upright to the gold wire glasses: "I just asked the North Korean envoy Hong Ren-ye. He said that 'Baoyi' was a slave of Manchu nobles. By making merit, you can get rid of slaves, be promoted to the banner, and become a noble."

"What, what?" Lincoln's deep eyes were astonished. "Is it too nonsense to become a noble through military merits?"

"This is a joke!" said Seward. "Southerns will become the laughing stock of the whole world!"

"But we will also become jokes!" Minister of War Stanton looked gloomy. "If our army, under the banner of liberating black slaves, fights against the black slave army of southern slave owners on the battlefield! Our soldiers will definitely ask: Who the hell are we liberating? Where do those black slaves need to be liberated?"

"It's so damn!" Lincoln gritted his teeth and said, "Who gave Davis the idea? It's so hateful! America must not let him go."
Chapter completed!