Chapter 668: The fuse of the American Civil War is Luzon’s turn? (Please book, please vote)

In Washington, DC, the Republican Senate Benjamin Wade's wooden door roared, and the smell of roast beef and cigars floated in the corridor. Lincoln took off his top hat and saw a double-tube hunting rifle hanging on the hooded coat rack, and the stocking was engraved with the words "Free Land". He handed the high hat and coat to the black servants of Wade's house, of course, were free blacks.

Then I heard the roar of my old acquaintance, former California Governor Bigler.

"Those yellow-skinned monkeys want to use this sacred fairy to steal our west!"

Senator O'Connor's old rival, Catholic Irish miner leader Carney sat on Senator Wade's velvet sofa, Ireland, who survived six assassinations in California, was very sturdy and saw him fist.

He said viciously: "They opened small farms everywhere in the California, Oregon, Washington Territory and the British Vancouver colonies, and established the so-called Unity Farm. Dozens or hundreds of Chinese gathered in the bastion-like farmhouses, controlling thousands of acres of fertile land around them...:::.The Chinese are very hard-working and are all experts in farming. Only more than a thousand Unity Farms completely monopolize the food supply on the West Coast...:::.Flour, rice, fruits, vegetables, beef, eggs, and even fish and salt in the sea are controlled by these yellow-skinned monkeys!

In addition, the various other goods sold in the West Coast market are either produced by small Chinese workshops or smuggled goods obtained from across the Pacific Ocean!”

Republican Rep. Thaddeus Stevens knocked the mantel with a sandalwood cane. The tip of his cane was inlaid with iron, and the sound of the knock was as dull as a death knell. "How many Chinese are there on the West Coast now?" he asked in a hoarse voice, "How many black slaves are there?"

"There are at least 300,000 Chinese!" Carney pointed, "Including Japanese women and mixed-race bastards, it's probably less than 500,000! As for the black slave...:...I've never seen them before!"

"No...a black slave?"

John Brown looked confused, and the radical abolitionist asked again: "None of them?"

"No one!" Carney said, "The Chinese don't raise black slaves, they are slaves themselves - slaves who are more capable than black slaves!"

Republican Senate leader Wade picked up the Washington State Constitution: "What's going on with this state constitution?"

"I'm cheating!" Bigler took out a yellowed photo. Chinese workers in San Francisco Port were unloading goods, carrying several large packages. "You see...::.\n. This is the Chinese workers working! I have been in California for five years and have never seen a Chinese farmer buying black slaves. They are more capable than mules themselves!"

Lincoln stroked the stubble on his chin. He had seen the irrigation canals in Duojie Farm in California. The wooden water pipes covered the entire field like blood vessels, turning the dry land into green vegetable gardens. What scared him the most was that the wooden signs inserted on the ridge of the field usually read the four Chinese characters "God rewards hard work", which roughly means "God loves hardworking Chinese people."

"Everyone," Lincoln suddenly spoke, his voice low, "We are not facing a problem of slavery, but a conflict of civilizations."

The room was quiet when foggy.

Everyone's eyes were turned to Lincoln.

"Velocate the state constitution proposed by the Washington Territory, and promote the Chinese Exclusion Act." Lincoln said, "The Homestead Act must also be implemented to encourage white farmers to settle in the west." He paused, "But the most important thing is to avoid armed conflicts one by one."

"What?" Carney jumped up, "Those yellow monkeys even used cannons when they fought with us! Last year they also

"Five months ago," Lincoln took out a newspaper from his briefcase and shook it open. "The candidates supported by the True Jobs won a great victory." On the front page, Governor McMullen was shaking hands with a Chinese priest on the background. The True Jobs Cathedral with a wheat cross flag flying.

"I think you all understand how violent the West Coast elections are, right?" Lincoln said in a deep voice.

Senator Seward, a Republican who intends to compete for the next US president, suddenly laughed out loud: "Abel, you are not afraid that our people can't beat those who have braids, right?"

Lincoln policed ​​this party rival who was destined to lose to his own eyes: "The key issue now is not fighting with the Chinese, but the general election in 1860...:::. Otherwise, the state constitution of Washington, the Chinese Exclusion Act and the Homestead Act can please white workers. After they get their votes, we will get electoral votes from the northern states! As for the war with the Chinese on the West Coast...:::.Who will fight? Is the federal army? The current president is Buchanan of the Democratic Party. Will he agree to use the federal army to attack a state that proposed the "slave-keeping constitution"? If the federal army does not go out, can we use the militias of the states controlled by the Republican Party to attack the territory of the Democrats as governors? Isn't this a civil war?"

New York Senator Seward said coldly: "Abel, you have to understand that there will be a battle between the north and the south! If the yellow monkeys in the west want to try our Yankees' rifled guns, I don't mind giving them some amazing looks!"

The whistle of the "Queen of the East" kept ringing.

Moore held the already rusty railing, and the pier of the Northern King City of Java was gradually showing its outline in his sight. This is no longer the Batavia he remembered. The Dutch rule here has completely collapsed, and the Chinese have replaced it as a new colonist, and they have also changed the name of Batavia to "Northern King City", a city named after Wei Changhui's king!

"The registration office goes to the left, the military camp goes to the right - those who want to join the army can go!"

On the dock, a priest in a black robe shouted, waving a wheat-colored cross flag.

Behind him were long queues of Chinese immigrants, most of whom were family members, and they were a little pale and thin...:

As Shi Dakai's military boots stepped on the springboard, his personal soldiers shouted, "The Wing King is here for five thousand years!"

The soldiers on the dock all knelt down. Their uniforms were all old-style, with the words "holy soldiers" on their chests and backs.

He looked at the red coins on his head.

Queen Zhansi's golden bell jingled on the deck, attracting several workers wearing hats to look at each other...:::

"Look at the barracks there...::.:"Friedrich pointed to the distance. In the bamboo fence, the Taiping Army soldiers wearing new blue and gray uniforms were loading ammunition on the ox cart. There was also a dark-skinned indigenous young man tied to the shaft of the cart, his ankle was stained with blood and blood. There was nowhere farther away, there was a faint black smoke rising!

Bai Siwen suddenly pulled Moore's sleeve: "Isn't that Archbishop Liu?"

Liu Lichuan's red robe was covered with mud, and a pure gold cross was hung on his chest, tied around his neck with a big gold chain. Behind him was a boy holding a telegram box, with four Chinese characters "Wu King's Dialect" sticking on the lid.

"I have seen the Wing King Qiansui! I have met the Heavenly Master Carl." Liu Lichuan saluted Shi Dakai and Moore.

"Where is Marquis Wei?" Shi Dakai asked about Wei Jun's whereabouts.

Liu Lichuan said: "Sir Wei set out to Tianjing three days ago to ask for a ban."

"Please seal?" Shi Dakai asked, "Please seal the King of Java?"

"That's right." Liu Lichuan smiled, "The Java Chinese-Aristocratic Conference of All Races publicly recommended Mr. Wei as king, but now we are missing the meeting of the kings of the Heavenly Kingdom to approve it."

"Oh," Shi Dakai nodded and smiled, "that king must vote for him."

"I am thanking King Wei for your thanks to King Wing." Liu Lichuan bowed again, and then took out the telegram sent by Luo Yaoguo from the "electronic order box". "King King Wing, this is His Highness the King of Wu. I arrived yesterday and sent it to you."

Shi Dakai took and unfolded the telegram, and the mulberry paper rustled in the morning breeze. Queen Zhansi approached and wanted to take a look. Before she could see clearly, Shi Dakai had already shouted: "Tell the captain of the Queen of the East...:::.Distance to the Makassar Waterway and stop at the Port of Manila in Luzon!"

Moore looked at Friedrich next to him, and the latter took out his notebook and wrote on it: "Manila, the second Batavia!"

Manila, Santiago Fortress.

Fernando Noriga Escayela was stirring a cup of chocolate with a silver spoon. The Spanish governor's fingertips were still stained with some cocoa powder. The Manila Daily, which was spread on the table, printed the front page of the Javanese nobles' meeting elected Wei Jun as the king of Java.

"Report!" The adjutant hurriedly pushed the door in, "The underground printing station was discovered in the Parian District again!"

Escayela's silver spoon suddenly made a crisp sound on the edge of the porcelain cup. He stood up, walked to the window, looked at the densely packed Chinese houses in the city outside the Spanish fortress, and gritted his teeth and ordered: "Catch it!...:...Go grab it again!"

"Yes! Sir!"

In the evening, the bronze bell of Santa Cruz Church struck six times. A team of Spanish soldiers holding rifled guns rushed into Chinatown.

A priest in a black robe flipped out from the back window of a small church, hooked the corner of the robe on the clothesline, pulled the whole row of coarse cloth shirts into the mud, making a sensational sound.

"Catch that heresy!" A Spanish lieutenant's roar mixed with Minnan dialect curses. Suona suddenly sounded at the end of the alley, and the funeral team wearing mourning clothes blocked the way, and flew towards the guns of the local soldiers like snowflakes. When they opened the mourning crowd, the priest had already disappeared deep in the maze-like arcade.

Chen Afu, president of the Chinese Chamber of Commerce, squatted in the cellar of the rice shop, and the kerosene lamp illuminated the map of Manila on the wall. He used a red pen to draw a circle at the Eighth Company Market: "The Spaniards are going to search for the granary tonight." Several guys moved the rice piles silently, revealing the three-year-old rifled gun in the secret passage.

"The Heavenly Father, the King of Heaven, bless Luzon!" Chen Afu stroked the copper cross on his chest, and his eyes flashed with anger of revenge.

On the balcony of the Governor's Palace, Escayela looked at the fishing fires gradually rising in the bay. The Chinese boards were weaving, and each boat light was like a peeking eye. He tightened the telegram he had just received, one by one, and the words of the order from Madrid were cold: "Jia's past experience, the scorched earth policy can be used if necessary."
Chapter completed!