Chapter 741 Western United States Mutual Protection Alliance

August 1, 1862, Denver.

In the chamber of the Governor's House in Colorado, the kerosene lamps of "Medine California" reflected the whole room red. Xianfeng sat cross-legged on a leather sofa, holding a pipe in his hand, staring at the battle map spread on the long table. The Virginia tobacco in the pipe was burning softly. He took a deep breath and let out a mouthful of smoke. As the smoke swelled, the pockmarked face looked even more gloomy.

"Master, Bishop Hong from San Francisco sent a quick message to ask you about your opinion on the dispute between the north and the south of the United States?" The question was Lord Amurfu, Archbishop of Colorado. He is the Archbishop of the True Joseph and belongs to the North American Archbishop of the True Joseph and North America. Now he is in charge of the contact between Xianfeng and Hong Daquan.

"Davis and his group of southern men." Xianfeng frowned slightly when he heard this, and his pipe rod was clicked on the map. "Although he had won the title of Washington after hearing my words, he hooked up with France and the Rakshasa Kingdom, and he also attracted black slaves to carry guns. He was quite in good shape." He paused and said, "But when the chimney of the factory in the north smoked, the cotton fields in the south would tremble three times! Not to mention that Lincoln's old boy was holding a granary that was enough for 80 million people to eat. With food and industry, he could provide a good life for the "oppressed" poor people in Europe. Therefore, the manpower advantage in the north is more than twice the south."

"But the south is rich!" Lord Amurfu is still quite optimistic about the south. He has never been to the East Coast, and he doesn't know what the industrialization of the Taiping Heavenly Kingdom is like. Just look at his outfit and the prayer wheel in his hand, you can tell that he was originally a noble Buddha on the Korqin grassland.

Xianfeng shook his head: "Money is useful, but not much."

The advantages of the northern United States now are that it has many people, grain, industry, and resources (coal mines, iron ore, and oil). It has many things, except for pounds, gold, and silver, so it can only issue unsecured green backed paper money.

In the south, there are few people, tight grain, few industries, and few resources, except for pounds and gold! In the south, cotton can be exported to pounds. Another large gold mine was found in Colorado, and the federal payment point had to be paid every year. It is absolutely fine to earn a hard currency of 40 to 50 million pounds a year, and there is no need to print unsecured banknotes for the time being.

Su Shun leaned on the back of a carved chair, playing with a small revolver of "Smith Wesson", which was a small pistol produced in the north of the United States that used metal shell bullets. It was a treasure that Su Shun had obtained from Hampton III. Hearing Xianfeng's words, he put down his pistol and sighed: "Master's words are reasonable. Can you still use foreign money to smash people on the battlefield? The advantage of this northern industry is not only in quantity, but also in quality. For example, this Smith Wesson," he pointed to his small pistol. "Although it is not powerful enough, the metal shell it uses also has a base fire, and the loading speed is not comparable to that of a paper shell bullet. I heard that there is a spear called Spencer's continuous bead gun in the north, which also uses this type of bullet, which can fire more than a dozen guns in a row."

Lord Amurfu turned the gilded sutra and said calmly: "The decree of King Luo Yaoguo of Wu has arrived - he is not optimistic about the southern United States and believes that the north will eventually win. Therefore, he instructed the three states on the west coast to integrate with the Rocky Mountain as a barrier to carry out 'armed separatist'."

Xianfeng picked up a Dalton bone porcelain coffee pot and sucked the bitter coffee, squinted his eyes and said, "Luo Yaoguo's idea is not wrong. But if we guard the mountain pass, the white-skinned railway will sooner or later be digging to Utah." He pointed to the location of Salt Lake City. "When the old charlatan of Mormon Brigham Yang hid in the Salt Lake Valley with his believers, he almost let the federal army break the lair? They have to be unable to move!"

Lord Amurfu said: "Master, I want me to tell you that we have to gather all the Si people and Cheyenne people in the northern prairie! Turn them all into Mongolians, and then let the Mormons grow wheat as logistics, plus the arms provided by the three Chinese states on the West Coast - three ropes to form a Western American Mutual Protection Alliance!"

When Run came to the United States with Xianfeng and experienced the San Francisco riots, De Ling suddenly interrupted: "We really asked the sect and the Mormons to grab California territory in the early years, but they were so angry that they even killed a senator they supported."

Linshu sneered: "Money can make the devil push the grinding! Now, the leader of the farming leader, who is holding the gold mine in his hand, can he not be jealous of money? He has so many wives, so he cannot buy beautiful clothes and gold and silver jewelry for him?"

Xianfeng nodded and said, "Su Laoliu is right!" He took a sip of cigarettes again, "But these three alliances can be dominated by our 'black, red and yellow' legion. Brigham Yang's white-skinned Mormons can at most add a white to our banner. Hong Daquan's three western coast states are backed by the Pacific Ocean, and at most, they are blue edges and other mutual protection alliances. The western part of the United States is the world of the five-color flag of the 'black, red, yellow, white and blue'. But we have to occupy three colors!"

Xianfeng paused: "In the future, I will be Zhao Sangui, let Hong Daquan be Hong Kexi, and Yang Baihan be Yang Jingzhong!"

He turned around and stared at Lord Amurfo, and said in a deep voice: "Amur, are the two brigades of Black Bear Khan and Hongyun Khan ready? When can we go north to the Montana Grassland?"

Lord Amurfo clasped his hands together and said, "Go back to the master, you are all ready. The Cheyenne rider of the Black Bear Sweat has found the traces of the Sioux. Only three hundred carts of green salt can help them pickle the buffalo meat, which will lead them south to spend the winter. Then we can have another red flag and ten thousand households!"

Xianfeng nodded: "The third brigade blacks, the third brigade popular, 24,500 elite soldiers, no weaker than Wu Sangui at that time."

Before he finished speaking, the oak door panel was slammed. Then he saw O'Hara breaking in with a choking cigar smell. The Irishman held a opened envelope in his hand: "Governor General, President Davis's expedited letter - saying that we want to send troops to retake Kansas!"

Xianfeng spread his letter and glanced at it, sneering: "Davis, the old fox, want to treat us as a gun?" He thought for a moment, nodded and said: "Send the order! First, the second black brigade will set off Kansas tomorrow, Sushun, you will take the third brigade to Denver. Amur, you will take the two red brigades north to Montana as planned this winter, and you will bring me 10,000 Indian Mongolians to me!"

He turned his head to O'Hara and said, "Gerald, bring twenty boxes of sand and go to Salt Lake City to find Brigham Young. Tell him that Colorado gold can buy his wheat and his life!"

On the Mississippi River, morning mist was torn apart by the continuous whistle of steam tugs. Grant stood on the deck of the Iron Python, and his military boots echoed dullly on the iron cabin. He narrowed his eyes and looked at the fleet that stretched for miles behind him, the flat barges connected to their heads and tails, lying across the river like a giant steel python.

Some of the barges were stacked with rails, others were dismantled into boilers, axles and steel frames, wrapped in oil cloth, while more barges were piled with various supplies.

In addition to the huge fleet of 18 tugboats and more than 200 barges, the Illinois railway has also driven at full speed these days, sending countless ammunition, food, weapons, patrols, tents and soldiers to St. Louis, Missouri.

The strength of industrialization in northern America has finally begun to emerge.

Grant's fingers hit the side of the ship, his knuckles were thick and calloused. He turned to look at the adjutant, his voice low but unquestionable: "Play a mile of railroad tracks in three days, and you must reach Topeka within three months!"

The adjutant swallowed, holding a pen and a notebook in his hand. He quickly calculated the consumption of rails, sleepers and nails, and fine beads of sweat oozed out of his forehead. "General, three months are too tight..."

"Tell the Irish Engineers," Grant interrupted, his eyes as cold as iron, "as long as they complete the mission, they will get the land on the west bank of the Mississippi River immediately!"

On the dirt road on both sides of the river bank, a column of Northern Army officers and soldiers from the brigade was advancing southwards, with bayonets on the rifles connected together, forming two galaxies sweeping over them!

Suddenly, a gunshot came from the reeds, and the bullet flew over Grant's hat. He didn't even blink his eyelids, but just waved his hand. The 64-pound rifled cannon at the bow of the ship roared, and the shells tore the air and blew the reed marsh into scorched earth. After the smoke of gunpowder dissipated, only a few pieces of limbs were left hanging on the treetops, blood dripping into the river water, and was soon swallowed by the turbid waves.

"Keep going." Grant said lightly, as if the attack just now was just a trivial episode.

The wind on the Montana grassland was wrapped in grass seeds and dust, whistling across the wilderness. Lord Amurfo sat cross-legged on a weathered rock, the prayer drum in his hand buzzed, and the copper bell swayed in the wind, making an ethereal sound. His cassock was blown by the wind, revealing the rusty chain mail inside.

In the distance, the Cheyenne riders with red clouds and sweat drove away the herd of bison, and the horse's hooves stomped the dead grass, and raised the dust in the sky. The black bear sweat led the Sioux warriors to hunt the lonely bison, and the spear pierced the thick fur, and blood splattered on the yellow soil. They skillfully cut open the belly of the cow, sprinkled a large handful of green salt into the flesh, and marinated the dried meat that had been in the winter.

On the horizon, a team of Sioux soldiers wearing feather crowns, wearing coats simply sewn in cowhides, and carrying old-fashioned muskets on their shoulders, were following a team of "Indian Mongolian" cavalry

In the Temple of Salt Lake City, candles swaying, casting Brigham Young's shadow on the stone wall, making him look particularly tall. He stroked the gold ingots sent by O'Hara, and felt the coldness and smoothness of the metal on his fingers. The gold ingots were engraved with the emblem of the Governor's House of Colorado, and shined with an attractive luster under the candlelight.

"Tell Zhao Si," Brigham Yang smiled at his twelve apostles, "The wheat in Utah is enough-" His smile suddenly became cold, his eyes as sharp as a knife, "But the Mormon baptistery is not stained with the blood of the nigger!"

The apostles whispered, and suppressed whispers echoed in the temple.
Chapter completed!