Chapter 720: The Most Profitable Business
"It seems I've come here for naught," Lord Grenville said, spreading his hands. "So, shall we discuss a business deal now?"
Hamilton straightened in his seat. "I'm listening intently."
To be frank, Anglo-American relations were far from amicable at the moment. Especially after Booker's destructive rampage through Georgia State, public sentiment in the United States increasingly favored "strengthening the Franco-American alliance."
Yet, the British had come to demand that America provide logistical aid to their forces in Santo Domingo.
Hamilton had already resolved to refuse Lord Grenville's overtures, regardless of the Foreign Secretary's tactics.
Grenville cleared his throat. "Parliament has decided to sell all the colonies in the Caribbean Sea region to the United States."
"That's not—" Hamilton suddenly stiffened, his eyes widening. "What did you say? The Caribbean colonies?"
Grenville smiled and nodded. "Yes, all of them sold to the United States. From Jamaica to the Lesser Antilles."
Hamilton's breath hitched.
Now, the British were suddenly offering to give these colonies to America!
It was well known that Britain held the lion's share of Caribbean colonies, controlling over half of them.
Hamilton quickly composed himself. "You mentioned a business deal earlier," he stated. "So, what's the price? I must remind you that the entire Caribbean is gripped by slave rebellions, making it impossible to extract any real profit."
"Rebellions always subside," Grenville said with a relaxed air. "For islands so close, I'm sure the United States will find a way to manage them."
Hamilton offered no comment, though internally, he acknowledged the truth in Grenville's words.
For America, deploying troops to the Caribbean islands would be far less costly than for Britain, and managing them from nearby would be significantly more convenient.
If only someone could tell him that even by the 21st century, the United States still wouldn't have fully "dealt with" nations like Cuba and the Bahamas, one could only imagine his reaction.
"Even so, I doubt Congress would be willing to invest heavily in islands so difficult to govern," Hamilton countered.
Grenville engaged in a bit more back-and-forth, then seemed to concede. "Alright, alright, you're quite the shrewd negotiator.
"I'll simply lay out Parliament's bottom line.
"First, should war erupt in Europe, the United States must maintain neutrality, at the very least refraining from attacking Britain or her allies."
Hamilton offered no immediate response, merely raising a hand in a gesture to continue. "Please, go on."
"Second, the United States must acknowledge all British assets on the various Caribbean islands, provided they haven't been destroyed by the rebels. British plantation owners will, of course, pay taxes to the American government.
"Finally, our nation must be granted the lowest price for sugar products harvested from the Caribbean region, a concession lasting thirty years."
"That's all?"
"That's all."
Hamilton considered this for a moment, then nodded. "I will present a bill to Congress regarding this proposal."
"I trust you won't make me wait too long."
Hamilton then recalled another matter. "And what of the British expeditionary force in Santo Domingo?" he inquired.
Grenville sighed. "Marquis Cunningham will be returning to London by early November. So, you had best prepare yourselves before then."
The conflict in Santo Domingo showed no discernible end in sight.
After pouring more than 600,000 pounds sterling into the endeavor, the British government had finally decided to cut its losses.
Nevertheless, Grenville had managed to secure as many advantages for Britain as possible.
Especially his second condition.
If the Americans truly possessed the capability to quell the slave rebellions, then many British plantations would be preserved. This would essentially mean utilizing American troops to safeguard British interests.
Of course, that hinged entirely on America's actual strength.
By noon the following day, the United States Congress swiftly made its decision, purchasing all British colonies in the Caribbean region for 30,000 US dollars. Both parties then signed the "Caribbean Agreement."
Over two weeks later, the utterly exhausted British expeditionary force withdrew from Santo Domingo by ship.
The San Domingo Parliament immediately departed Mount Duarte, returning to Port-au-Prince, and grandly declared that day the National Day of the Republic of Santo Domingo.
Once the news reached Europe, major powers such as Austria, Prussia, and Portugal successively recognized the San Domingo regime. At that moment, cane sugar was practically as precious as gold; who wouldn't want to acquire some affordable sugar from San Domingo?
They were oblivious, however, that the island's sugar export permits were already firmly clasped in the hands of a certain nation's Crown Prince.
...
Southwestern Russia.
Kharkov.
Kościuszko reined in his horse, gazing back at the vast plains behind him. The Russian Kursk Fortress, its walls blackened by artillery fire, was rapidly fading from view.
He made the sign of the cross over his chest, a pang of sorrow rising within him, and murmured, "'Warriors, may God bless you.'"
To conquer that formidable stronghold, the valiant soldiers of his Royal Third Division had launched a relentless assault for three days and two nights, facing death without fear. They had even carried sandbags by hand, using their fallen comrades and earth to fill a breach before the first rampart.
Ultimately, at the cost of over 2,000 casualties, they had stormed and captured the Kursk Fortress.
To avoid impeding the army's progress, over a thousand wounded men had resolutely insisted on remaining behind at the fortress, carrying almost no provisions.
Dombrowski looked in the direction of his commander's gaze, then approached and clapped him on the back. He sighed. "Our homeland will forever be proud of them," he said. "As for us, we must press onward."
Kościuszko nodded, gently urging his horse forward with his legs, and rejoined the marching column.
He collected his thoughts, surveying the endless oak thickets around them. Turning to Dombrowski, he murmured, "How much food do we have left?"
"Bread will last us another three days," Dombrowski replied, his voice equally hushed. "But fodder and oats are almost completely depleted."
During a prolonged raid, the supplies consumed by the warhorses far outstripped those required by the soldiers.
Kościuszko's brow furrowed. After a long, agonizing pause, he finally spoke. "If it comes to it, we'll have no choice but to slaughter the warhorses."
Cavalry was crucial. On the Eastern European plains, infantry lacking cavalry support could easily be harried to death by Cossacks.
Yet, soon enough, his troops would have only their warhorses left for sustenance.
Crimea was still a month's march away. A wave of despair welled up from the depths of Kościuszko's heart, but he brutally suppressed it.
He fought desperately to avoid the thought that his soldiers, after suffering immense casualties and trudging hundreds of miles, might ultimately perish silently and unnoticed within the dense forests of Kharkov.
More critically, he and his army had not yet managed to shift the tide of the war in Poland.
'He refused to die like this!'
'He absolutely couldn't allow them to perish like this!'
Three days later.
The solitary Polish army continued its arduous trek through the vast, dense forest.
A quartermaster corps soldier reluctantly stroked his emaciated warhorse, his voice thick with sorrow. "'Old friend, may you find peace in heaven. I'm sorry...'"
The entire army had foregone breakfast this morning. By the commander's order, over a hundred of their horses were to be slaughtered for rations.
The quartermaster officer sighed and gave the order to begin the slaughter.
The soldiers silently drew their sharp knives.
The warhorses barely struggled, perhaps too weak from hunger, simply watching them in silence.
Just as the knives were about to plunge, a sudden flurry of horn blasts erupted from the front of the marching column.
It was the warning signal from the scout cavalry, indicating the discovery of enemy forces.
Kościuszko immediately ordered his men to form ranks, then spurred his horse to a relatively open elevated position. Looking south through his telescope, he spotted a dazzlingly bright column of wagons and horses reflecting the sunlight near the east bank of the Seym River.
The attire of the wagon drivers, he observed, appeared to be Ottoman...
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