1850 American Gold Tycoon

Chapter 691 Madam, you don’t want your child to be hurt, right?

"General Ames, don't you think you are being hypocritical? The valuable things that the soldiers of the Maine Brigade have robbed these days, and the blood on their hands is no less than that of our First Mercenary Regiment."

Brannan had good hearing, and even though Ames and Joshua spoke in low voices, Brannan still heard their conversation. He spoke to Ames with disdain.

"After passing Norton, we will soon encounter the main force of the Yankees. We have very little supplies left. Do you want the soldiers of the Maine Brigade to fight the Yankees with an empty stomach, or to fight the Western Brigade with a full stomach? The choice is yours, General Ames. You are the highest commander of the Maine Brigade."

Brannan's words caused a commotion among the soldiers of the Maine Brigade nearby, and even the guards beside Ames looked at Ames with some unfriendly eyes.

Residents of Norton gradually noticed the arrival of the Northern Army, and they gathered in the middle of the street in groups of two or three. Some held onto the wooden fences, looking out nervously. Some hurriedly took their families into the house to hide, and a few children stood at the door of the grocery store, blinking their frightened eyes and looking around anxiously.

Although North Kansas was isolated from the outside world, Mayor Modrick still heard some news about the Northern Army's massacre in North Kansas. He quickly organized the young and strong people in the town to pick up weapons and gather in the square to prepare to deal with the uninvited guests outside the town.

The actions of the townspeople were seen by Brannan and others outside the town. Brannan just sneered contemptuously: "This group of rioters dared to brandish knives and guns under my nose. They are simply seeking their own death."

Brannan had people shouting, demanding that Norton Town send representatives to negotiate with them immediately, and at the same time he asked Grant to dispatch troops to surround Norton Town and prepare to launch an attack.

Faced with Brannan's request, Mayor Modrick did not dare to neglect it, for fear of offending the group of soldiers outside the town. He sent his son to negotiate. Before leaving, he told his son that as long as the other party's demands were not too harsh and Norton Town could meet them, he would agree to stabilize them first.

Brannan sat on his warhorse, his eyes cold as he looked up and down at little Modric who came as a representative of Norton Town to negotiate.

Behind Brannan was a group of elite cavalrymen, their guns and bayonets dangling beside the saddles. The heavy breathing of the horses mixed with the creaking of the leather gave people a sense of oppression.

Growing up in the frontier area, little Modric had never seen such a big scene. He was so frightened that his legs trembled uncontrollably and he couldn't even speak clearly: "Gentlemen, we are civilians and law-abiding citizens of the Federation. We are not a threat to you... Please don't talk about anything you need."

"Hahaha, law-abiding citizens of the Union?" Brannan laughed. "In last year's election, you Kansans did not vote for our beloved President Lincoln! You supported the rebels of the South or the West!"

"No, absolutely not, sir. I assure you that our town of Norton did not participate in the election last year! The voting results in Kansas cannot represent the will of our town of Norton." Little Modric assured Brannan in a trembling voice.

"Are you the mayor of Norton?" Brannan asked coldly.

Even if what Modric said was true, it didn't matter, and Brannan and the others didn't care. The only thing they cared about was the supplies stored in Norton Town.

"No, gentlemen, my father is the mayor. I can negotiate with you on behalf of my father and all the townspeople." Little Modric replied hastily, fearing that he would anger these blue-clad demons in front of him.

"Coward! You are not qualified enough to negotiate with me. Let your father come and talk to us in person. This will appear more sincere." Brannan said while observing the squirming teams on both wings.

In the town, the men turned pale with fear, the women hugged their children tightly, and the old people prayed in a low voice for God's protection.

Of course, there are also some people who don't take it seriously and continue with the work at hand.

After little Modrick reported to Modrick in detail the situation outside the town, Modrick's uneasiness was exacerbated, and Modrick's guess was confirmed: this group of Northern troops came with ill intentions, and it would be difficult to send them away.

In order to calm down the group of blue-clad demons outside the town, Modrick decided to agree to their request and go there in person to talk to the representatives of the Northern Army face to face.

Before leaving, Modrick told his son and several prominent elders in the town that if anything happened to them, they should immediately send a telegram to the Western Army in North Platte for help, and they must hold on to the town.

Arriving outside the town, Modrick wiped the sweat from his forehead, straightened his back, and walked forward towards the aggressive Northern Army.

"You old man are more courageous than your cowardly son." Brannan laughed jokingly.

"I wonder what the leaders are doing in this remote place like ours?" Modric asked, looking up.

Brannan put his right hand on the handle of the revolver at his waist and said seriously, "We received news that your town of Norton is harboring rebels, so we came to search for you."

Modrick glared at him and argued, "There are no soldiers in Norton, only farmers and children! My townspeople have not joined any army, generals, I think war should not involve innocent people!"

"Old man! So noisy! I said yes and it happened!" Brannan scratched his ear, pulled out the revolver from his waist, pulled the trigger at Modric, and immediately issued a cold order.

"Tell Colonel Grant to use artillery to open the way for the attack! Let the brothers practice their skills on these ignorant frontiersmen first!"

Shortly after Brannan's order was issued, artillery on the hill north of the town quickly fired at the town.

Although the residents of the American frontier regions are full of martial virtues, these civilians armed with outdated light weapons are still just civilians. They are powerless against well-equipped and well-trained modern professional armies.

After three rounds of artillery fire, the men in the town who had just been holding their weapons, full of enthusiasm and shouting that they were ready to fight the invaders to the death were now frightened and fled away.

Fortunately, in order to save ammunition, the Union artillery only fired three rounds before stopping.

The artillery fire stopped, and just when the residents of Norton thought they could take a breath, the sound of dense horse hooves and shouting came from outside the town.

A few brave townspeople looked out and saw a group of Union cavalry rushing down the low hills in the south, as if God had accidentally overturned a barrel of indigo dye.

Next, the infantrymen with bayonets fixed, lined up in formation and pressed towards the town of Norton to the sound of drums.

The sound of horse hooves came with dust and sand. When Brannan's cavalry cut through the horizon and rushed into the town, twelve-year-old Liz was squatting in the shadow of her own barn at the entrance of the town, shelling bean pods.

As a little girl born and raised in the frontier area, she had little knowledge, let alone understanding military affairs and politics. She had no idea what it meant when these people in blue smocks and riding horses rushed into the town.

The peas popped into the tin basin with a crisp sound, and were crushed by the iron hooves. Liz looked up and saw a surging blue tide. Oh my God, how many horses are there? Fifty? Eighty? Or more than a hundred?

She had never seen so many horses before; there were more horses in all of their town.

As the Union cavalry got closer and closer to Liz's house, Liz could almost see their faces. Their faces were blurred by the heat under their caps, and they were waving sabers, the tips of their swords poking at the scorching sun, making people's eyes sore.

Liz's father, Josiah, rushed out of the blacksmith's room, still holding the hammer for shoeing the mule in his hand. The smell of molten iron mixed with sweat suddenly hit her nostrils.

"Hurry into the cellar Lizzie! Take your brother into the cellar."

The old blacksmith's roar was stuck in his throat, and the tail end was cut off by the metal scraping sound of the bolt being pulled.

After the frightened Liz came to her senses, she dropped the bean pods she had not yet peeled and went into the cellar in the backyard with her brother in her arms.

The resistance in Norton was very weak. Only a few brave young men fired machine guns at the blue-clad thugs near the church, but they were quickly shot dead by the alert blue-clad thugs.

"Drive all the men to the square!" a cavalry officer issued a cold order.

The cavalry drove all the men in sight to the square like sheepdogs.

Following the cavalry into Norton town were the infantry. They worked in groups, kicking down doors and searching every household. Their movements were as skillful as those of the cavalry, like emotionless machines, mechanically repeating the actions they had done before.

"Look at this town, it's quite wealthy." Benjamin, the second lieutenant of the Maine Brigade who led the looting, grinned, revealing a few yellow and black teeth, "Guys, let's do it!"

The owner of the house was a widow named Sarah. She suddenly stood up and blocked the soldiers: "Please, don't take our things..."

"Madam, we are just 'requisitioning' you. You should be grateful to the federal army for keeping you alive." Benjamin looked up and down at the pretty widow, and then looked at the two children behind her with ill intent, "Madam, my men are very rude. You don't want your children to get hurt, do you?"

After that, Benjamin carried the widow on his shoulders and strode up to the bedroom on the second floor. As he went upstairs, he reminded his soldiers, "Hey! Be gentle and be gentle to the little ones."

The soldiers agreed perfunctorily and began to act without hesitation. Some smashed open the cupboards, some pried open the drawers, and some rummaged through the suitcases. They had a clear division of labor and cooperated very well.

They cleared out the fine silverware, china plates, and cutlery, and stuffed all the bacon, flour, canned goods, and spices in the kitchen into the sacks that had been prepared in advance.

A young soldier opened the cellar and saw the neatly arranged food reserves inside. He whistled excitedly: "Hey, guys! This family really knows how to live! We don't have to worry about food for the next month!"

He quickly grabbed a bag of flour and put it on his shoulder, while his companion behind him grabbed a jar of cider and took a big gulp from the jar.

In the upstairs bedroom, Lieutenant Benjamin finished his work and began to search the dresser.

He opened a silver jewellery box, which contained several jewelled rings, a gold pocket watch and a pearl necklace. He whistled and put everything in his pocket.

Benjamin, in a good mood, walked to the stairs with a big laugh, shook his pocket watch and showed it off to his men: "This thing is much more valuable than our military pay."

"Sir, how does the widow taste?" The soldier sipped cider with a lewd smile on his face.

"She's not as good as the virgin girls in Maine, but she's much better than those vulgar women who follow the army. The key is that she's fresh and exciting. It's my first time to taste the taste of a widow." Benjamin whistled happily and put the gold pocket watch in his jacket pocket.

Sarah, disheveled, hugged her daughter tightly, watching the Union soldiers looting her home helplessly. Her fingers sank deeply into the black mourning fabric, she hated these blue devils, but dared not resist.

"At least... at least leave some food for the children..." Her voice trembled with fear and her eyes were pleading.

One of the soldiers paused and looked down at the little girl. The child's eyes were wet and full of fear.

"Come on, we are not beasts." Thinking of his own daughter of about the same age, the soldier muttered, throwing down a piece of hard bread, and the other soldiers burst into laughter.

"Yes, we are liberators," said another soldier sarcastically, "freeing these crude Southerners from the misery of slavery!"

Benjamin stood at the door, looking at everything in the room coldly, slowly took out the cigarette he had just rolled, picked it up, and then slowly lit it.

On the street, the shrill assembly whistle has sounded.

"Hurry up, guys! Don't be clumsy! The assembly whistle has sounded!"

Benjamin turned and walked out. Each of the soldiers behind him was carrying a bag full of spoils. They stepped out of the door laughing and shouting.

Sarah collapsed on the ground, tears streaming down her pale cheeks, she weakly grasped the piece of bread on the ground, hugged the child in her arms. These damn villains finally left, but she had nothing left.

When Benjamin arrived at the assembly point with his men and the spoils, the company commander took off his hat and asked lazily, "Is everything done?"

Benjamin held a cigarette butt less than an inch long in his mouth, slowly exhaled a puff of smoke, and nodded: "It's all done, sir. This town is quite rich, and the harvest is quite good."

"Well done." The company commander smiled with satisfaction, "The regiment commander's order is to burn this place down."

Hearing the new order, Benjamin was stunned for a moment, frowned and said, "They have nothing left. Is this the order of the commander or the order of General Ames?"

Although Benjamin was not ambiguous about robbery, he had never set a fire. Before, the Maine Brigade and the guys from the First Mercenary Regiment acted together, and it was usually the guys from the First Mercenary Regiment who were responsible for setting the fire.

Benjamin and Ames are from the same hometown. Ames has a good reputation in his hometown. Benjamin did not believe that Ames would issue such an inhumane order.

"This is war." The captain did not answer Benjamin's question. "Follow orders and prepare torches."

The soldiers of the Maine Brigade and the First Mercenary Regiment moved quickly, like a well-trained team of porters. They happily piled up the looted supplies on the roadside, and all valuables, including food, livestock, household items, gold and silver jewelry, were ruthlessly looted.

Military wagons with muddy axles drove into the town one after another. Union soldiers carried sacks and walked to the back of the wagons in twos and threes, throwing the spoils into the wagons. The sacks were bulging, and some of the torn pockets revealed the white flour inside, and corn kernels were scattered on the dirt road.

"Hurry up, hurry up!" A sergeant in charge of driving the carriage stood beside the carriage, waving his arms and urging, "Don't dawdle, we have to leave before sunset."

Several soldiers were struggling to move a wooden barrel full of bacon onto the truck. The words "Pratt's Bacon Factory" were printed on the barrel wall. The chubby Private Tom grinned, pried open the barrel lid, grabbed a piece of bacon and stuffed it into his mouth, with greasy juice dripping down his chin.

"Hey, Tom, leave some for everyone!" The soldier next to him laughed and kicked him.

"This is a delicious Western food!" Tom chewed and said indistinctly, "Got to taste the taste of victory."

As they were laughing and joking, another group of Union soldiers were driving their livestock towards the assembly point. Cows and sheep were mooing and bleating on the muddy country road, and several horses were forcibly taken away from their original stables, swishing their tails in fear and paddling the ground with their hooves anxiously.

"Hey! Come over there and help! Get that mare on the cart!" a quartermaster shouted towards Tom.

Tom and several soldiers who were sharing the bacon worked together to pull a chestnut mare to the side of the cart. The frightened mare struggled violently, and her raised front hoof almost kicked a soldier in the face.

A hot-tempered corporal drew his bayonet and stabbed the horse's hind leg, blood oozing out instantly. The mare neighed in pain and backed away, and was finally dragged onto the cart unwillingly.

Several buildings near the Norton Town Square had been set on fire. The flames illuminated the figures of several officers who were gathered around a special covered wagon. Unlike other transport vehicles filled with food and livestock, this covered wagon was specially used to transport valuables.

“Have all these things been recorded?”

Joshua, wearing gold-rimmed glasses, flipped through the small notebook and checked the list very carefully.

A sergeant lifted a heavy box filled with jewels and silver. The lid of the box opened slightly, revealing glittering gold dollars and silver cents of the American Republic, jewel-studded brooches, and silver candlesticks.

"Send these things to the Quartermaster General's Office," Joshua nodded with satisfaction, and pointed to a pile of neatly stacked fabrics. "The finest blankets, silks, and woolen fabrics will be distributed to the officers."

After distributing torches to his subordinates and ordering them to set the fire, Benjamin came to the pile of fabrics and picked up a piece of exquisite lace tablecloth: "This is a good souvenir. I will take it home to my mother. She will definitely like it."

His colleague laughed, patted Benjamin on the shoulder and said, "Benjamin, your mother will definitely be grateful for this 'just war'."

Unlike Mason's Brigade and the main force of the Omaha Base Camp, which had been repeatedly defeated by the Western Army, this Union detachment in northern Kansas had not suffered a defeat so far, had not realized the cruelty of modern warfare, and had very high morale.

Brannan also patted Ames on the shoulder like Benjamin's colleagues did: "General Ames, you are a top student at West Point. I think you are very good at writing beautiful combat briefs."

Unlike Joshua, who cared a lot about the amount of spoils, Brannan didn't care about the amount of spoils. The value of the items in the special caravan used to transport valuables was only one or two months' income for a northern tycoon like Brannan. Brannan was more concerned about maintaining the morale of the troops.

Ames stared blankly at the scene on his horse, with mixed feelings. He did not want such a war, but a more decent and upright war. However, the military funds and supplies provided by the federal government to the Union Army on the Western Front were not enough to support his Maine Brigade and the Western Army to fight a decent war.