Chapter 729 President Davis: It’s bad, I’ve become an abolitionist!

Manassas Battlefield, November 8, 1861, afternoon.

General McDowell saw a scene that made him doubt his life through his telescope: Three thousand black soldiers had already formed a horizontal formation with the Virginia white militia, and the bayonets were connected to form a flashing galaxy under the rising sun.

The sound of the black soldiers singing "We Want to Be White" overwhelmed the war drums of the Northern Army, and the white militia actually followed the rhythm, as if assimilated by some invisible force.

"God, who is the abolitionist? We...:::.or them?"

Not to mention the white militia below, even McDowell was suspicious of this war formed under the banner of "abolitionist".

"Freedom belongs to white people! America belongs to white people.:.:

The slogans shouted by the Northern Army did not sound like a noble abolitionist, but like a group of slave owners who firmly believed in the supremacy of white people.

"General, the reinforcements from the Sanskrit have arrived!"

A Northern Army staff member with a Kentucky accent ran to General McDowell and told the commander of the Potomac Legion the intelligence just sent by the reconnaissance cavalry.

"Try it for the last time!" McDowell gritted his teeth, "We can't lose to...the black men!"

McDowell pulled out his command knife, pointed at the black brigade team in front of him, and roared and ordered: "Architecture! Aim...\n. Those niggers! Blast them all into meat paste... black meat paste!"

His roar was soon overwhelmed by artillery fire. The solid bullets of the twelve-pound cannon whizzed out, and from time to time a stream of blood mud was plowed out, but it failed to shake the black group's straits of the straits.

The half-squatted Zengke O'Hara held a star-striped flag from the south. The flag was stained black and purple by the blood of the Northern Army. The Northern Army's artillery shells kept flying over his head, but he didn't even blink his eyelids, just staring at the Northern Army infantry approaching step by step in front.

"The First Black Coat Regiment...:... Stand up!" Zengke O'Hara shouted loudly. Shortly after the Northern Army's shelling began, he ordered his men to squat down and avoid shells to avoid unnecessary casualties.

However, on the battlefield where you are queuing and shooting, it is easy for people to squat down or lie down, and you want them to stand up...::.\n. Then it is a little difficult. Those guys who lack the will to fight would rather lie down and pretend to die than want to fight.

Fortunately, the black coaters don’t have this problem now and pretend to be dead one by one, but they don’t have flag-raising points!

As I watched the sound of drums, all the black coats on the battlefield stood up.

"Roat one by one!"

2,000 Minerg guns spewed out flames at the same time, and rushed to the front of the West Virginia volunteers fell like wheat straw.

A Northern Army captain's pocket watch was penetrated by a bullet, and the needle was always stopped at the last moment of his life: 1861

November 8, 2019 at 5:47 pm.

Suddenly, a burst of smoke rose from behind a forest on the left side of the Northern Army. The black cavalry led by Tom, the "Black Knight" of McMullen's family, cut into the battlefield from the flank, and the horse's hooves stepped on a piece of sand and dust. The black horse, black clothes, black people,

Just like a black whirlwind whistling, only the tips of the rifles flashed with cold light. The miners from West Virginia suddenly froze. They saw the leading black man riding a big black horse holding a long spear, like a demon fighting out of hell!

"Shoot! Go to that big black man!" The roar of the Northern Army Captain was submerged in the Southern Army's flag-raising battle song. Zeng Ke raised a Minnier rifle and locked the sight of the Northern Army Captain's eyebrows. The moment the gunshots, a bloody flower exploded on Shang Wei's blue uniform's chest.

"Release the flag! Lift the flag!" The black tide-like infantry line began to advance. White militia captain Johnson stood still in a daze.

He saw a black soldier with broken arms holding a rifle with one arm and fighting to death until he was hit by a stray bullet and fell down one by one. One by one, the judges of the Huangqi flag sighed and turned the credit book to the new page to record it: "Charleston's Mark died in battle and died in the country, and he raised the black flag directly!"

"Crazy, crazy...

On the other side of the battlefield, I saw that the last wave of offensive he organized was shattered by the black brigade of the Southern Army again. McDowell's military uniform was soaked in cold sweat, and his lips were trembling when he spoke.

General Boregard stood on the top of Henry House, holding a copy of "The Eight Banners of America" ​​and was reading it carefully. This was the first time he had watched this bill that he regarded as a joke. The more he read it, the more frightened he became!

Who thought of this? Is this to transform all the black slaves who are honest and only know how to grow cotton into berserkers who fight wildly to "whitening"?

The person who proposed this bill seems to have long understood the most greedy and cruel part of people's hearts.

That person...can't be a devil?

He suddenly heard several Virginian militia surrounding Linshu Yuan Qiu: "Old man, we have also killed the Northern Army. Can we give us points to raise the flag?"

"But you are white?" Linshu said in a stiff English, "You are not Hispanic, are you? You are all blonde and blue-eyed white flags, where can you carry them?"

"But we are poor! We are as poor as black slaves!"

"We want to trade points for the manor...:

"I want a good house!"

"Can you change it?"

It's bad! General Boregaard just glared in his heart. Not only did the black slaves learn badly, but even the poor whites learn badly! If this battle continues...:::. The poor Americans will have a revolution like the poor Europeans.

The sound of horse hooves suddenly sounded outside the tent, and General Li climbed to the top of Henry House under the protection of a team of cavalry. When Boregard stuffed the charter into his trouser pocket, he found his fingers trembling.

"General Li, this is Nicholas Zhao Si's 'masterpiece'." General Boregaard pointed at the battlefield in the distance. Looking along his gaze, McDowell's Northern Army was retreating, while the number of black soldiers far less than them was chasing them.

Robert Lee looked incredible: "Who are the slave owners and who are the abolitionists?"

"General Li, of course we are real abolitionists!" Xianfeng's voice suddenly came. Robert Lee turned his head and looked at it. He only saw this small oriental charlatan wearing a grey military uniform of the Southern Volunteer Army. He leaned on a crutch and crutched one by one, standing beside Robert Lee, sighing, "False abolitionists will only stand on the moral high ground to pretend to be the Virgin. They are willing to give black slaves what they call freedom, but will never give black people the ability to defend freedom. The real abolitionists will not give freedom to black slaves, but will teach black slaves how to fight for and defend freedom. ::::. So, I, you, and President Davis are the real abolitionists!"

Ah? Robert Lee was speechless: What did I do? I did nothing, why did I become an abolitionist?

At this time, Father Tupolev was carrying a bottle of wine and laughing at the top of Henry House. Vodka squirted on General Li's face: "Davasily, do you know the Mamruk slave soldiers? Yes, it is Mamruk who ruled Egypt. ::::. And the Ottoman Sultan's Guards, who were all slaves, were slaves::

The last shell fired by the Northern Army landed on Mount Henry House, and nothing was hurt except a large bunch of soil was raised. Tupolev laughed and pointed to the black soldiers who were vaguely visible in the smoke of gunpowder: "Look! These 'black barbarians' are more loyal than the Roman guards! Do you know that Rome had a black emperor? Lucius Quitus! Although the Senate does not recognize it, history tells us..." He took a sip of wine, "The master came out of the gun, no matter how black he was!"

The wooden floor of the Oval Office was almost dented by the anxious President Davis. When Army Secretary Breckenridge rushed in with a telegram, the blue-gray pupils of the US president shrank into a needle: "Manassas: Fall?"

"No! It's a great victory in Manassas!" Army Secretary Breckenridge pointed at the text on the battle report with his trembling fingertips, "The black slave brigade wiped out seven thousand enemies and seized 16 military flags! The black slaves of the O'Hara family praised 1,500 points for their victory in killing five Northern Army and leading the First Black Regiment, and became the first free citizen of the White Banner. ::::. According to the provisions of the "Interim Measures for the Eight Banners of America", his descendants will not be subject to the "Principle of the One Drop of Blood Act"!"

"What?" President Davis was shocked. "How is this possible? How can a black slave have such combat power? Isn't it wrong?"

The Secretary of Army shook his head: "It is impossible to make a mistake. It is the report submitted by General Robert Lee and General Boregard...:::. The black slave brigade from South Carolina is like an insurmountable black wall, blocking the northern rebels who have several times more people than them... Both generals said that the combat power of black slaves is no less than that of the most elite white warriors!"

In the Oval Office... It's dead silent!

Prince Vasily, the Russian adviser in the office, suddenly tapped the table with the bottom of a vodka bottle: "Dear President, do you know the Sultan of the Mamluk Dynasty Baibal? The Turkic, who was born in slaves, established his dynasty with a scimitar. The same thing happened in India. Several Delhi Sultans were born in slave war land!" He said drunkenly, "And what you are doing now is crazier than those Muslim monarchs. You not only fire guns to the slaves, but also teach them to read and teach them how to really fight on the battlefield!"

Davis suddenly grabbed the "Interim Measures for the Eight Banners of America" ​​waiting for him to sign, which was originally thrown to the fireplace, and the parchment curled up into ashes in the flames: "Fuck the "Interim Measures for the Eight Banners of America"! I fought against the abolitionists for twenty years, and finally became the president of the largest abolitionist regime!"

"The President must immediately abolish the Interim Measures for the Eight Banners of America.::

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Chapter completed!