The Cotton Kingdom
Cecilia was incredibly excited, as if she had never before encountered someone who listened to her stories with such sincerity.
While it might be unimaginable by 21st-century standards, in this era, one could effectively say that women—whether in Britain or America—had virtually no rights.
One might argue that Britain was ruled by a queen, so what was I talking about? But even that queen had absolutely no interest in improving women's rights.
"The women's suffrage movement is wicked and insane folly."
"Suffragettes should be whipped to come to their senses."
"Women as doctors? Stop spouting nonsense and just be nurses."
Surprisingly, these were actual quotes from Queen Victoria herself, a woman.
With such a social climate, it was considered a social virtue for women, whether commoner or noble, to be "wise mothers and good wives," and they were expected to take almost no interest in investment or finance.
There was no social motivation for them to do so in the first place.
Until the mid-19th century, Britain operated under the common law of coverture.
This common law was a startling norm where a woman’s legal rights were absorbed by her husband upon marriage.
Since all legal rights belonged to the husband, he naturally had the power to dispose of all property she currently owned or would acquire in the future.
That was why wealthy noble families enjoyed using pre-marriage contracts to protect their daughters' assets in the form of trusts.
Given this social atmosphere, it was no wonder Cecilia was so thrilled.
"Actually, I had the same name as my older sister. To be precise, I inherited the name of a sister who had already passed away. The year I was born, my eldest sister fell from a window frame and went to heaven first. So, I actually prefer being called 'Cissy' rather than Cecilia."
She was even spilling such TMI without me asking, which showed just how excited she was.
"I see. While it’s not uncommon to inherit the name of a family member who passed away early, it can be a bit uncomfortable for the person involved."
"Actually, it’s more annoying that my father doesn't even consider listening to what I have to say. Did I ask for suffrage? Did I ask for property rights? I just wanted to offer an opinion on investments."
"That is true. Hearing your story, it seems the Baron isn't exactly... great at investing."
"Regardless, if your prediction and mine are correct, railroad stocks will recover within a few years, and it means the South will continue its dangerous tightrope walk, right? Then, naturally, I can see where to invest... are you already doing so?"
I answered with a light laugh.
Her eyes went wide, and she shook her head vigorously.
"I knew it. My father really has no eye for people. Instead of trying to save face and talking to people like governors or senators, he should be having in-depth discussions here."
"Well, he is a noble. He probably thinks there's no benefit in getting involved with a young planter whose only merit is having a bit of money. And, in fact, that isn't exactly a wrong judgment."
"Shall I mention it to my father? He’s only acting like that because of his pride, but deep down, he must be incredibly curious about you, Mr. Seth."
"I would be grateful if you did, but would that really be helpful to you, Miss Stanley?"
Cecilia looked into my eyes for a moment, then tilted her head and asked.
"Mr. Seth, are you currently seeing anyone?"
"No. I have pen pals, but I am not currently seeing anyone."
I exchanged information via letters with Miss Chase, but there was no heart-fluttering connection between us.
"Then, do you perhaps hold the belief that you cannot meet with a foreigner?"
"That is not the case, either."
Just as I was thinking, 'Why is she asking such things?'... I met her gaze as she looked at me with a strange expression, and my heart suddenly began to pound.
Wait? Is this that situation?
'You're the first person who has listened to me so well,' something like that?
My adrenaline surged at the thought of escaping my status as a lifelong solo, but conversely, my infinitely cold reason suppressed my instincts.
I was absolutely, definitely not hesitating because I was a solo and lacked confidence at a crucial moment.
My instincts were screaming at me to approach her immediately, but let's think carefully.
Isn't Cecilia a young lady of a British noble family?
If I said I wanted to get serious with her, wouldn't Baron Stanley immediately draw his sword, asking how a nouveau riche from the backwoods of the American South dared to covet his daughter?
"Um... excuse me, Miss Stanley? I am deeply honored, but the Baron..."
"Of course, I don't think my father would ever permit me to associate with a Southern planter. But you are anticipating everything, even the South's runaway train. I don't think someone like you would stick to the policy of exploiting hundreds of slaves... am I thinking about this wrong?"
Come to think of it, Cecilia is eighteen and will turn nineteen this year.
Considering that women of British noble families usually marry in their early twenties, there is still a few years of leeway.
Furthermore, if I were tied to a British noble family not just by simple acquaintance but by the bond of family, this might be a once-in-a-lifetime stroke of luck, an opportunity that money couldn't buy.
Of course, Cecilia might also be making such an active pursuit because she might not meet anyone else who listens to her so well, and if you look at it that way, isn't this union a win-win that benefits everyone?
The only obstacle, as Cecilia agreed, is that a British noble holding the title of First Lord of the Treasury would never send his daughter to a Southern planter.
It's not simply because I'm a commoner.
British noble families didn't really care about status in marriage unless it was the eldest son inheriting the title.
In fact, it was common for daughters to marry wealthy commoners, and Cecilia's older sister had actually married a military officer of commoner origin.
However, the story changes if the target is a slave owner in the South who keeps hundreds of slaves.
In Britain, which had abolished slavery long ago, there was a pervasive perception that slavery was a wicked act that destroyed the human soul, and that the United States, which maintained such a system, was a barbarian nation with no conscience.
And yet, a noble of that Great British Empire, holding a seat in the cabinet, sending his daughter to marry a Southern planter?
He would surely be summoned by the Prime Minister or the Queen and asked if he had lost his mind.
"So, Miss Stanley, are you saying that we should associate in secret, and then marry once I am no longer a slave owner?"
"Yes. In my estimation, it shouldn't take that long."
"I am grateful for your words, but the Baron will never permit it."
If I were a self-made entrepreneur from the North, maybe, but even if I were Baron Stanley myself, if my daughter said she wanted to be with a Southern slave owner, I would send her to a convent to stop her.
I calmed my excitement for a moment... no, I struggled to calm it, and coldly racked my brain.
What are you worrying about? A beautiful, intelligent noblewoman who likes you is right in front of you, so immediately... no, stay still, you crazy hormones.
Here, I must first get permission.
The point is, if I can just avoid the demeaning situation of Baron Stanley taking a Southern planter as his son-in-law, it should work out.
"Then, Miss Stanley, please convey this to the Baron. Tell him that this association will definitely be to his benefit as well."
"Benefit?"
"Yes. It will certainly be to his benefit."
She reacted as if she didn't understand, but perhaps that made her heart move even more; she smiled brightly and stood up from her seat.
"I understand. Then I will go tell him right away!"
Watching her run off with a lively smile, the corners of my mouth relaxed on their own.
...She's cute.
Is this finally the end of my long, long solo hell?
But before that.
I will have to overcome the wrath of the First Lord of the Treasury, who came to sell stocks only to have his daughter snatched away.
* * *
"Let me be clear: I have absolutely no desire to give my daughter to a Southern planter. I would rather hold onto the stocks and take the loss."
After the lively banquet came to an end, Baron Eldery, unlike before, looked at me with a terrifying gaze, his eyes cold.
Yes, yes. I understand.
Any father would feel that way if his daughter, whom he sent to sign a simple stock contract, suddenly said she wanted to marry that man.
Especially if that guy is a human piece of trash who exploits 800, 900 slaves?
It's a miracle he didn't grab his neck and fall over backward.
"First of all, I would like to express my gratitude for treating me so politely, even though you must have been very taken aback."
"The absurdity went beyond the limit, so I didn't even feel anger. If it had been just a little less absurd, I might have grabbed you by the collar."
"I think that is naturally how you would feel. However, what I conveyed to you is the truth, without a single lie."
"Ha, that taking a son-in-law who exploits hundreds of black people is to my benefit? Are you suggesting I retire from politics and spend the rest of my life here, being served by black slaves?"
"Of course not. I don't know if Miss Stanley mentioned it, but this South will be engulfed in the flames of war within a few years."
Baron Eldery clenched and unclenched his fists, as if debating whether to choke me right then and there, and tilted his head.
Interpreting that as a sign to continue, I spoke with the same feeling I had when I first gave a presentation in front of my boss long ago.
"First of all, it is no exaggeration to say that the current South is a runaway train with no brakes. You can understand it as the delusion that Europe cannot live without their cotton having reached their brains, leaving no way to cure it."
"What does that have to do with war?"
"As you know, having spoken with the current administration regarding the economic panic, the Buchanan administration is so incompetent and corrupt that it is beyond saving. If the government continues this disastrous path, the next presidential election will naturally go to the opposition party, and the South will realize the cold, hard reality."
"Cold, hard reality? Isn't it a natural phenomenon to lose the next election if the ruling party messes up?"
"That applies to countries that operate normally, like Britain. The current United States is divided into the South, which supports slavery, and the North, which opposes it. Until now, the moderates in the North, who said we shouldn't provoke the South too much, kept a certain balance, but due to the government's successive failures, the moderates are gradually disappearing."
In fact, this was something the South, not the North, had brought upon itself.
The Dred Scott Decision, which completely ignored the Northern liberals; the economic panic that sent the Northern economy into the abyss; and here, with my presence, the Will repatriation trial was added on top.
The current anti-Democratic sentiment in the North was soaring like the slope of a Bitcoin graph in its prime, and I was the one busily throwing firewood into it from behind.
"In the next presidential election, the North will unite as one, and the South will unite as one, pouring all their votes into the candidates they support. Then, the current political landscape of the United States will be laid bare. The red truth will be revealed: that one can become president without winning even a single electoral vote from the South."
"...Does that mean it's impossible for the South to elect a president on its own?"
"Yes. That is exactly it."
It was no different in original history.
The reason the South, which couldn't even achieve food self-sufficiency and didn't have a smooth supply of weapons, took the extreme measure of seceding from the Union was because they had painfully realized that very truth.
It doesn't matter if the South doesn't give a single electoral vote to the Republican candidate; the Republican candidate becoming president is not a problem at all.
Even the rate of population growth is significantly faster in the North than in the South.
If they realize that no matter how many elections they hold, they cannot exert any influence, what decision will the South make?
They are even at the peak of the delusion that cotton is an essential good that can never be replaced.
Having heard the explanation up to this point, Baron Eldery looked at me with an expression of disbelief and stuck out his tongue.
"With you predicting all this, what on earth are you doing? Are you planning to liquidate all your assets and come to Britain? If so, I wouldn't have a problem with you associating with my daughter, but..."
"It would be easier to understand if you saw it for yourself rather than through explanation."
No matter how much I talked here, Baron Stanley would not be able to erase his suspicion that I was just a scoundrel trying to snatch away his precious daughter with nonsense.
So, showing him is enough.
The reason I cannot liquidate all the vast wealth I currently possess and escape to the North or Britain.
My kingdom, which is being smoothly completed here in the South, and which will become even more solid through my union with Baron Eldery.