Life of Being a Crown Prince in France-Chapter 730 - 638 Betrayal and Being Betrayed
Chapter 730: Chapter 638 Betrayal and Being Betrayed Chapter 730 -638 Betrayal and Being Betrayed Book descended the hill with a fierce expression, keeping his right hand behind his back all the while.
When he got about ten paces from the Indians, he suddenly drew his pistol and shot the man wearing red feathers on his head, then shouted to his officers below, “Kill them, quickly!”
Though the Indians were fierce, they were no match for the Black officers who had just experienced the brutality of battle; half were instantly killed.
The remaining six or seven men held on for a few minutes before they too were reduced to corpses.
Facing the puzzled looks of his subordinates, Book pointed towards the opposite hill and said coldly, “These damned Indians deserve to be cursed just like the white devils!”
In fact, these Indian tribes bordering the United States had already begun to learn “civilization” and “enlightenment” from the Westerners. They had learned to ride horses, to use firearms, and even to set up Congress-like assemblies among their tribes.
At the same time, they also learned the practice of keeping slaves.
The Americans slaughtered and enslaved them, and they, in turn, enslaved Black people.
The Indians quickly realized the massive profits from plantations and used their earnings to buy more Black slaves and weapons; more and more chiefs joined in the practice of slavery.
Especially in the southeastern part of the United States, the Indian tribes near the American border built more than a dozen European-style towns and developed vast cotton plantations.
The Ortamaho Tribe was the closest to the United States.
Suddenly, the sound of gunfire could faintly be heard in the distance.
Book’s pupils dilated, and he turned his horse around, forcefully whipping it as he yelled, “Disaster, follow me back!”
To the east of Book’s military camp, near the Savannah River, seven or eight thousand American soldiers suddenly appeared.
Indeed, the Indians hadn’t helped the Black patrollers at all; instead, they had negotiated a deal with Wayne overnight and then transported the Americans across the river using the tribe’s boats.
Book, having been invited by Chief Hopoais, had taken most of the senior officers to a banquet, leaving the camp under the command of just a Captain.
The poor Captain didn’t have the capability to handle this situation and immediately ordered a full retreat to the west, hoping to enter the lands of the Indian tribes.
But soon, they found nearly two thousand Indian warriors gathered beside the western hills, and at their first sighting, they raised their guns and fired.
By the Savannah River, an American officer saw the Black Rebel Army falling apart through his binoculars and immediately said to the nearby Wayne, “General, those Blacks are done for; please let me lead the Cavalry in chasing them!”
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“No, we can’t let the soldiers of America shed blood,” Wayne casually waved his hand, “Just control the flanks and ensure no Black escapes. Let’s enjoy the spectacle from here.”
Under the pressure of the Americans, Book’s Rebel Army quickly engaged in a bloody confrontation with the Ortamaho Tribe.
However, the Black soldiers had just suffered a terrible defeat days earlier and lacked officers to command them; they showed almost no will to fight and collapsed at the slightest touch.
Despite the chaos, some fought back in desperation, resulting in considerable casualties among the Indians.
After more than an hour of intense fighting, more than 1200 of the Black Rebel Army were killed, leaving only three or four hundred trembling and kneeling on the ground.
The commander of the Ortamaho Tribe, the elder son of Chief Hopoais, surveyed the battlefield, wiped the blood from his face, and beat his chest as he loudly cried out, “Oooowwww—”
Other Indian soldiers also joined in, shouting, “Oooowwww—”
Three miles away, Quasi-General Wayne heard this shout and smiled at the officer beside him, saying, “Look, the problem with the black people is now solved, right? It only took 30,000 US dollars.”
“Colonel Alet, I will handle the savages. You proceed according to the plan.”
“Yes, General!”
Quasi-General Wayne arrived at the edge of the battlefield, glanced over the scattered corpses, and then nodded to the eldest son of Chief Hopoais, “You did very well, as brave as your father.”
“Oh, the promised flintlock guns and clothes are all behind us; send someone to fetch them.”
“Now, let us return to the tribe and celebrate this great victory together.”
“I am pleased to cooperate with you.” The Indian appeared quite proud. “According to our agreement, the living black people belong to our tribe.”
“We don’t need slaves from the dead.”
Wayne had barely finished his sentence when the dozen guards behind him raised their guns and shot towards the Indians, who showed shocked expressions.
The chief’s eldest son fell from his horse, his head splattered like a smashed watermelon, leaving half behind, with red and white splattered all around.
The sound of gunfire served as a signal, and the 5,000 American soldiers who had already surrounded the area immediately closed in. The Indians, still jubilantly collecting weapons from the battlefield or binding and driving the black people, were bewildered and stood frozen, not understanding what had happened.
However, the Americans’ flintlock guns did not hesitate under the commanders’ orders and fired in unison, shredding the Indians and the surrendered black people together.
On another front, in the Ortamaho Tribe settlement, Colonel Alet commanded two infantry battalions to deploy at the access routes and then began to bombard the tribal area.
Most of the Ortamaho Tribe’s warriors had been sent out to ambush Book’s Rebel Army and were preparing to celebrate their victory when they were suddenly attacked. The few hundred young men left, their eyes red with rage, charged towards the cannons outside.
They were met with a volley from the Brown Bess flintlock guns.
It wasn’t until no more Indians fought back that Alet ordered the soldiers to storm the village, capturing all the men, women, and children.
Three days later, headlines in newspapers such as “United States Gazette” and “American News” read, “General Wayne suppresses the black slave rebellion and recovers 70 miles of land in Georgia.”
In the plantation of the Ortamaho Tribe, Book and his officers killed more than 30 Indian supervisors and led over 130 black people who were willing to follow him into the dense forests of upper Georgia.
…
Paris.
Joseph received news from North America and the Caribbean while on his way to Brittany to attend the inaugural ceremony of the “Mediterranean Light.”
More than 50 days had passed since the suppression of Book’s uprising.
Looking at the report in his hands, he frowned slightly.
He hadn’t expected the Book movement, which he had high hopes for, to be resolved by the Americans with such ruthlessness.
The damage to the United States in this incident wasn’t significant suggesting that a Civil War might not be hopeful for a while.
Joseph sighed, realizing that for this ambitious and potential-filled country across the ocean, other methods would need to be employed to continue weakening it.
Fortunately, things on Brisso’s side went smoothly; now, except for Jamaica, the entire Caribbean Sea Region had declared independence one after another, and the black liberation movement had become an unstoppable force.