Chapter 21: Kingdom (2)
TL: Hanguk
John Brown admitted defeat with surprising grace.
In that respect he was exactly like his son, which secretly made me want to laugh.
For the record, Owen's spirit had broken before he even reached a hundred, so John Brown holding out to the very end had more than lived up to his name.
"You want to talk? Didn't you say three days ago that you had nothing you cared to ask me?"
"Because I had judged that a slaveholder's ideas were not even worth knowing. But I have decided to humbly admit that the judgment itself may have been my own arrogance."
"Right. So what do you want to know? Don't tell me you want a rematch in some other event?"
I'm no Zhuge Liang, and capturing a man seven times just to release him seven times isn't my style, so I had no particular desire to grant a rematch. [TL Note: A reference to Zhuge Liang of Romance of the Three Kingdoms, who captured and released the rebel Meng Huo seven times to win his sincere submission.]
But John Brown shook his head calmly and asked,
"Do you believe Black people are human?"
"What else would they be, if not human?"
"Then you... no, then why do you treat human beings as slaves?"
"Because right now, if I don't, I die."
"Right now? A weak answer."
I let out a soft snort of laughter and nodded.
The whole point of this contest had been to make sure that radical never came after me again.
In business, even if things get a little uncomfortable along the way, it's best to close things out clean and dry.
John Brown was a dangerous man, but that also meant he was a man whose name carried a dangerous amount of weight.
We could never share the same ideological boat, but a strategic partnership might not be out of the question.
"Mr. Brown, not everyone in this world can live the way you do, and they shouldn't have to. Refusing to acknowledge the inherent weakness of human beings can be its own kind of hypocrisy."
"Yes. Perhaps it can. Then do you intend to stay here, weak as you are now, huddled up with your slaves until the day slavery is finally abolished?"
His tone was sharp, but I could feel that the hostility in his eyes had faded considerably from when we first met.
"That would be far too passive a policy. I'm acting, in my own way, on the firm conviction that slavery is bound to be abolished."
"Everyone says that, but..."
"War will break out within five years at the latest."
For the first time, John Brown stared at me with his eyes gone round.
"War? Aren't we fighting one already?"
"I mean the South and the North will split apart completely and wage an enormous civil war."
"And the South loses that war, and slavery is abolished? That is hardly something a Southern slaveholder ought to be saying. Ah... is that why you treat your slaves this well while spreading a reputation as a vicious slaveholder to the outside world?"
"......"
To that question, I gave the answer known as silence.
"Well, I'll be... only now do I feel I'm truly seeing the man called James Sergent."
John Brown murmured it, meeting my gaze with a complicated look in his eyes.
"Ordinarily I would have rebuked that weakness and thundered against it, but I have seen with my own eyes how it has become hope for so many people, so what am I to do? Besides, I lost our contest. A loser ought to shut his mouth and take his leave."
"Will you go on operating the same way once you head back up north? I'm telling you, even if you don't go around spreading violence and blood yourself, a far greater violence and bloodshed will cover this land."
"If what you say is true, then yes. But with no proof whatsoever, I can hardly base my work on a mere prediction, can I? For that matter, you say war is coming yourself, and yet apart from the hospital you've undertaken nothing concrete."
"That's because the preparations are in full swing right now."
"Preparations? You mean there was something else besides the hospital?"
In that instant, as if struck by revelation, I saw exactly the field where this man could be put to the best possible use.
"Then let me tell you. On one condition, though. You lost our contest, so once you've confirmed that I am seriously preparing for the coming war, lend me your name. Just your name. How about it?"
"I'll hear you out, for now. But don't forget that I am withdrawing solely because I lost the contest, not because I approve of you."
"The truth is, I'm already preparing for the future by setting up agricultural and military-supply ventures in the North under an employee's name."
"Food and weapons? You were genuinely preparing for war?"
"That's what I've been telling you. But the man who'll serve as my agent is still young, which worries me a little. So what if you were to put your name down as a company officer, Mr. Brown? Just your name. It would be an enormous help in building up the business in its early days."
The agricultural side would be fine, I figured, since Rockefeller had experience in that line; what worried me was the military supplies.
I hadn't been able to find a proper way in, and it had been nagging at me, but with John Brown lending his weight, things would get that much easier.
Of course, I wasn't actually asking for his help. What I wanted wasn't real influence but the name value of John Brown, the notorious radical enemy of slavery.
Most of those goods would be sold to the North, but a certain amount was destined to flow south as well, where a food crisis was already on the schedule.
Naturally, once war began, the North would blockade the Southern border, and any company that looked likely to ship food or weapons south would inevitably come under watch.
But could there be a single soul in the United States capable of suspecting that food and weapons from a company with John Brown, of all people, on its books were flowing into the South?
They probably couldn't even conceive of the possibility.
Naturally, I had no intention of entrusting him with the actual running of the company, nor should I.
Just pin a director's title on him and have him scatter business cards here and there, and I'd be perfectly satisfied.
"Then while we're at it, let me introduce the employee who will be growing those businesses. His name is Rockefeller, and he's a very sharp young man. Incidentally, he too is fiercely opposed to slavery."
"A young man fiercely opposed to slavery, working under a slaveholder? This is enough to drive a man mad. Fine, I will hear the talk, and nothing more. The talk only."
"Of course. I would never force anything on you."
At the end of the day, John Brown was a man who could only 'understand' my position, never 'accept' it.
After all, once slavery was abolished, it wouldn't be the least bit strange for him to condemn my methods, which bind not a man's station but his spirit.
Of course, getting him even as far as understanding was already a tremendous achievement in itself, so I didn't push my luck; I asked only for the use of his name and nothing more.
And all through the evening.
For the first time in ages, I slipped back into my past life as a big-corporation salaryman and ran my mouth with gusto about just how badly Buchanan would drive North-South relations toward catastrophe, and why war was bound to break out.
On top of that, I argued passionately that this business could deal a devastating blow to the Dixie men he so despised, and John Brown granted me what amounted to his permission, warning that if I tried anything funny he'd have his name off the officer list on the spot.
Sure enough... it's something I keep noticing lately, but older men are strangely weak to me.
*
As I've stressed before, the South cannot feed itself.
That's because this was a hopeless land, so utterly obsessed with growing cash crops that every ounce of local administrative capacity had been dumped into the cotton and tobacco business.
Even its railroads were pathetically shoddy compared to the North's, and the reason was simple.
Ships are far more efficient than rail when it comes to moving cotton.
Of course, that wasn't the only reason; the difference in industrial structure played a big part too, but then again, wasn't the South's industrial structure all-in on cash crops in the first place?
Trace it to the root, and the conclusion remains unchanged, that it all comes down to how the South makes its money.
At any rate, thanks to these fatal factors, the South's infrastructure was wretched, with no fix in sight.
It was beyond my power to repair, and I didn't feel the slightest urge to try.
"In the end, after examining it from every angle, the conclusion is that growing food crops in the South would be nothing short of foolishness."
Rockefeller, apparently of the same mind as me, set a notebook crammed full of writing on the desk and declared it without hesitation.
But John Brown, who had been listening quietly beside us, blinked as if he needed an explanation.
"Why? Land is the one thing they have to spare down here. Couldn't they simply all agree to grow some food as well? Common sense says the bulk of the nation's food is produced in the North; doesn't that make Southerners nervous?"
A question that hits the nail squarely on the head.
The great majority of the United States' food is grown in the North.
And the South is on terrible terms with that North; talk of splitting up altogether, if that's how it's going to be, comes up all the time.
So what kind of reckless nerve lets these Southerners look away from a risk that even John Brown spots at a glance?
"Mr. Brown, suppose for a moment that you were a planter. If someone told you the Northerners might one day threaten you with food, so from now on you should devote part of your plantation to raising food instead of cotton, would you do it?"
"Ah... such a vulgar reason that I understand it at once. 'I don't want to take a loss,' is that it?"
"Exactly. Who's going to happily comply when you say, 'Please take a loss for the rest of us'? The only answer you'll get back is 'You do it.'"
Some planters, myself included, do plant enough food for the plantation's own use, but that's strictly for my own consumption, not for anyone else's benefit.
"For that reason, just as Rockefeller says, large-scale food farming in the South is impossible. So, Rockefeller, what's your thinking?"
"If we can't grow it in the South, there is only one answer. Build a large agricultural company in the North and smuggle Northern food down."
If we can't produce it ourselves, take it from the fellow who already does.
A rock-solid, textbook approach if I ever heard one.
"But shouldn't we also consider the case where the North bans food exports to the South?"
"Which is exactly why we must establish at least three smuggling routes starting now. One passing through Nassau in the Bahamas, one through Kentucky, which is practically a gray zone even today, and, as our mainstay, one crossing the Rio Grande in Mexico and running through the port of Matamoros."
Kentucky, the Bahamas, Mexico.
Once this triangle of smuggling routes surrounding the South was complete, bringing Northern food into the South would truly be no great trouble.
The South would be gasping with hunger, so even marked up to several times the import price, it would sell like hotcakes.
And by demanding land as collateral for whatever they couldn't pay, I could multiply the size of my plantation several times over at what amounted to fire-sale prices.
"But Sergent, if you sell Northern food to the South, doesn't that turn around and help the slavery-defending Southern bastards?"
"No. Do you think the South can beat the North just because it gets a bit of food? This was never mainly about selling to the Southern army in the first place. I intend to unload it on the planters, who'll be sweating bullets over the food shortage."
"Bleeding the planters for their money, is it..."
Once the Civil War breaks out, food prices in the South will skyrocket as time goes on, and the more slaves a grand planter keeps, the more desperate for food he's bound to become.
Even if they belatedly plant food on their plantations, farming isn't the kind of thing where you swap crops overnight.
"And those without money will have no choice but to offer their land as collateral, won't they? If I legally suck up all of the South's money and land this way and keep it for myself, what becomes of the other planters?"
"You... you truly don't have an ounce of affection for this South, do you."
Just as he said.
When this war ends, everyone in my debt will be utterly ruined, and every scrap of land they own will become the property of my kingdom.
It'll become a true quasi-nation, able to take in every freed slave who comes to its door, however many there may be. That's the idea.
John Brown pronounced it a plan he didn't care for, but conceded I should do as I pleased, saying the Dixie men, a thousand times more loathsome than any plan of mine, deserved to be made to suffer horribly.
With all the preparations complete, Rockefeller established two new businesses in the North.
<Standard Supply>
Known as SS.
A comprehensive supply company handling not only food but medical supplies, soap, candles, and every other necessary good.
<Standard Manufacturing>
Known as SM.
A company that would start with farm tools and hardware, then scout engineers away from various firearms companies and slowly transition into an arms supplier.
SS and SM, the twin pillars of my Northern business until the oil-refining boom hit someday... wait, now that I see them abbreviated, those company names are more than a little suggestive.
I gently floated the idea of changing them, but Rockefeller insisted the name Standard absolutely had to be in there, so in the end they were confirmed as they were.
"Then let us all raise a toast! Long live SS!"
"Until the day SM spreads across all of America!"
"Ch-cheers!"
There had been all manner of mishaps and twists along the way, but at last, the grandly named SS and SM opened for business in earnest.
Leo, Ben, Henry.
Even my sister Kate and my brother-in-law.
Everyone who heard the company names praised them as wonderfully catchy and never doubted for a moment that they would succeed.
Right... whatever they're called, as long as the money rolls in, that's all that matters.
*****
If you like this novel, please leave a review or rating at NovelUpdates.
Link: https://www.novelupdates.com/series/i-became-a-wicked-landowner-in-the-american-south/
Join our Discord for announcements or to report any mistakes.