Chapter 28
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Ace
Chapter: 028
Chapter Title: Debut (2)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
The French expeditionary force ran into an unexpected snag.
"The Moroccans plundered our republic's ships!"
"We need to teach those black devils a lesson right now!"
I later learned the truth: a French merchant ship had capsized in some Moroccan port and was rescued.
But a few locals had looted some of the cargo salvaged from the wreck and loaded into a warehouse. The French were now threatening to turn the port into a sea of flames unless they were compensated for the full value.
Even without considering Morocco's six-year drought and famines, the baguette brothers' xenophobia was downright terrifying.
You? You think you get to say that?
I'm in the midst of a solitary struggle to free Joseon from Japanese colonial rule. That's holy enough to deserve the epithet "sacred." Bishop Imbert must be cheering me on from heaven.
Honestly, rescuing people should be the end of it. Aren't I far more trustworthy than a nation that starts wars over some drowned cargo?
Ah... right, I see. The end of the human era really has come. Can't even spit with this body of mine.
Anyway, with all the fuss about torching Morocco and resolving political whatever, the French deployment was delayed. Unlike the British, who could just pull troops from India, the French had to ship theirs from the homeland.
But the Americans appeared at lightspeed.
Faster than the French, who just wanted to spite Britain. That showed how desperate these guys were.
"I'm John Henry Aulick, commander of the U.S. Navy's East India Squadron."
"Pleased to meet you. Arthur Leigh."
"?"
"...Has that book made it to America already?"
I haven't even published it there yet.
"Haha, indeed. Any sailor worth his salt has read it! The ordeals of the sea! The grit! The raw masculinity and tenacity of gnawing on fish and wrestling sea turtles just to survive—that's the true life of a man who defies the merciless ocean!"
As expected from the uncivilized New Worlders—they don't grasp the importance of copyright.
I don't bother enlightening them on why pirates are bad. Americans believe that once they've stolen something, it's theirs, so why pay? That's national tradition. The Anglo-Saxon blood doesn't carry pirate scum like that; must be the French blood mixed in.
This astonishing principle applies to state affairs too.
"Our East India Squadron will head straight to Ryukyu to deliver gunboat diplomacy, then proceed to Edo, Japan's capital, block key waterways, and demand opening ports."
"What if war breaks out?"
"The president has authorized me to reduce Edo to ashes."
Look at those eyes blazing. Whoa, just staring makes my skin burn.
The squadron commander only chatted with me briefly out of courtesy and personal curiosity. I soon rotated to the next person.
"We've finally met. You're hard to get a glimpse of."
"Professor Williams. We've only exchanged letters until now, but here we are greeting in person."
Samuel Wells Williams.
American missionary and journalist.
He'd crossed from New York to China at the astonishing age of twenty-one and devoted himself to missionary work, compiling a Chinese-English dictionary and more.
"Mr. Leigh's various books and dictionaries are true treasures for understanding China. I look forward to continued collaboration."
"The pleasure is mine."
"Here—this is the letter we're sending to the Edo government. Could you check if the classical Chinese is correct?"
Obviously not an official document.
Japan had long traded with the Dutch, so some knew Dutch. With Dutch immigrants in America, communications would go through Dutch. No room for quibbling over language later.
Just in case, and to smooth port openings, they were attaching personal letters to influential Japanese officials, urging them to open up.
"Could you include a letter from me as well?"
"Even with Japan locked tight, they've surely heard of Arthur Leigh. Happy to enclose it."
America hadn't declared war on Qing yet, but they'd likely do so soon to crack the China market.
If the Americans succeeded in opening Japan, Britain would follow as the fast second, demanding trade treaties. Follow-the-leader strategy.
In the meantime, we'd open Joseon.
Shortly after the U.S. East India Squadron sortied for Ryukyu,
I boarded HMS Barracouta, a British Royal Navy steam paddle frigate, and set off for Hanyang.
Summer 1851.
Having crushed Kwajow and riding high, the British Empire promptly led its fleet north.
Toward Joseon.
"Joseon's western sea, also called the Yellow Sea, has extreme tides—islands emerge at low tide and vanish at high."
"This coastline... it's a nightmare."
British captains, terrified of running aground like the French fools and ruining their careers, advanced north with razor-sharp caution.
But to the Joseon locals, these massive black ships belching thick smoke from smokestacks, with paddlewheels on one side, were apocalyptic. The sky itself seemed to fall.
"What in the world is that?"
"Heavens."
"Monsters! Monster ships!! Monster ships are here!!"
If a foreign ship appeared in one's jurisdiction, the magistrate had to go out and inquire politely.
But a fleet of monster vessels devastated rural Joseon in an instant.
"You idiots! That's an English ship! That flag—the one the English hang everywhere, their national ensign!"
"M-My lord."
"Prepare a boat!! Hurry!!"
"Everyone's fled in panic; no one's left to row."
This was the mild case. Some magistrates joined the exodus themselves, running for dear life.
It was peak era of corrupt regency politics, after all.
Nine out of ten county magistrates were bought positions—worthless dogs who valued their hides over duty. Of course they'd bolt.
Rumors spread faster than the steam fleet. By Chungcheong, "smokestack foreign ships sighted" had warped into "the Western barbarians slaughter and burn as daily routine, flames leaping from their ships. The kingdom's doomed!" like some family funhouse game.
Chungcheong's morale, already wrecked by floods, shattered utterly. Refugees outpaced even the express couriers to Hanyang.
"The time has come!"
"A sign Joseon's falling!"
"The Prophecy of Jeong says Master Jeong will establish capital at Gyeryong Mountain. With Westerners invading by sea, basing in mountains is only logical!"
Doomsayers.
Social malcontents.
Enraged peasants crushed by exploitation.
All pricked up ears, wondering if their moment had arrived.
Having razed the southern provinces with mere rumors, the mighty British fleet arrived at Ganghwa Island. Then, the delegation led by Arthur Leigh as chief envoy headed once more to Hanyang.
My third trip to Hanyang.
First as a castaway.
Second as a merchant.
This time as a diplomat.
What role for the next visit?
I advanced to the throne room.
Bowed my head deeply—but no full prostration.
"What insolence!"
"Last time, as a private citizen, I gladly paid respects as a guest.
But now, I come as chief envoy representing the British Empire. In the Empire and its neighbors, prostration is reserved for slaves to masters. With deepest regret, I ask Your Majesty to understand our customs."
"Well said! A guest must follow the host's ways—why impose yours?!"
"Enough."
The ministers fell silent at King Heonjong's command—no longer a child.
"Chief Envoy to Joseon, appointed by the British Empire's Foreign Office, Arthur Leigh, comes to pay respects to His Majesty the King of Joseon."
British Empire.
Arthur Leigh.
Not "English ghosts."
Not "Lee Aseol."
By Sinic order, only the Son of Heaven's realm could claim "empire." Thus, when kingdom Joseon became empire, it renamed to Han, proclaiming the Great Korean Empire.
The moment they heard "British Empire," every Joseon soul filling the hall instinctively knew.
We would no longer play by China's arrogant order.
After presenting the credentials, I squared my shoulders and straightened my back.
"You've come far from distant England—a trying journey. We know well as Qing tributary we mustn't traffic casually with foreigners. Why send envoys rashly?"
I ignore the petty Vice Minister of Rites.
I now represent Her Majesty and her cabinet.
"With profound regret, the British Empire recently entered war with Qing, capturing Guangzhou."
"...!"
"Our Empire's will is firm. Unlike the last war, we will crush Qing utterly."
"Tragic. What drove these nations to such horror?"
Now it begins.
I casually scanned the assembled officials before speaking.
"China always deemed itself world's center, calling itself the Middle Kingdom, labeling all outsiders barbarians.
But Europe—home to the British Empire and neighbors—hosted the Great Jin, our Rome, a celestial realm since Han times. Its civilization rivals the Central Plains' origins.
Some quick ones began sweating. They'd guessed what came next.
I noted them and continued.
"After Rome fell, Europe's states warred like Spring and Autumn. But they reached one truth: mutual contempt as barbarians meant endless strife.
Privately, they still scorn neighbors' vices. But publicly shunning foreigners as barbarians ended, bringing European peace.
Qing, to the last, branded us barbarians, insulting European states as equals."
Denial of Sinocentrism.
"I, Arthur Leigh, learned here that Joseon, since Ki Ja brought rites to the east, never lost civilization's light—a land of gentlemen.
Qing is barbarian Jurchen ravaging the Central Plains—brutal, tyrannical, sparking rebellions across Jiangnan. Why call Qing civilized and Joseon barbarian? Is this Heaven's way?"
They couldn't interrupt, but all but the dimmest knew what followed.
I obliged their hunch.
"Qing troops flee at our fleet's approach, discarding arms and armor. Heaven's mandate. Thus, the British government humbly urges Joseon to join this war and claim independence from Qing."
Let's make war together!
No reply.
Only dead silence.
"Yet, aware our amity with Joseon is nascent and thus hesitant, our wise cabinet leaders considered alternatives.
If war too sudden, conclude a treaty proclaiming eternal friendship between British Empire and Joseon to the world. And declare neutrality in this war—do not aid Qing. The Empire will never forget Joseon's goodwill."
This is the crux.
Protection and trade treaty, plus neutrality declaration.
Treat with foreigners sans Qing nod denies Joseon's tributary ties. Neutrality lets us courier copies to Beijing: "Even your #1 vassal Joseon ditched you."
Bloodthirsty Royal Navy officers dreamed of resupply from Joseon. Cloud-gathering nonsense.
Joseon lacks the economy for it. It's... Joseon.
Couldn't they at least do food?
As if. Rice at best, and Brits wolfing rice bowls? Sure.
No timber. No powder. No shipyards. Food incompatible.
Nothing to squeeze from Joseon. Answer: neutrality only.
Now, Joseon's next move—
"Insolent barbarian! We sheltered and civilized you, yet such arrogance!!"
A booming voice.
Sweat beading his forehead, but jabbing hard at me.
"Lee Aseol, you scum!! Bringing troops to threaten king and court! How dare your vile treason expect rites-knowing Joseon to yield?!"
Kim Ja-geun prostrated toward the king.
"Strike their heads now, send envoys to Qing with them! Westerners heed no reason—grant no demands!!"
Hmm.
As expected, can't win straight from the gate.
If they folded here, Byeongin and Sinmi wouldn't have happened.
"So no amity, not even neutrality?"
"Barbarians are barbarians! A Confucian dares twist words like monkeys mimicking men!"
"Enough! Dismiss the envoys! Quarter them and strictly guard against harm!"
I bowed once more and withdrew slowly.
Next step...
Draft the declaration of war.