Chapter 232
Chapter 232
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 232
Chapter Title: Ah, Chongzhen (2)
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While Washington torched the southeast coast and drove the refugees northward, and the Joseon and British fleets set their sights on Nanjing and Tianjin respectively in a crossing maneuver that lasted about two months, Fucha Fuheng's massive army wasn't idle either.
More precisely, they couldn't afford to be.
The root cause here was also military provisions.
First off, Fucha Fuheng had to leave substantial reserves for the 50,000 Qing troops in Shandong.
And there was Kim Unhaeng with his 10,000 Liberation Corps. Before Fucha Fuheng departed, they'd clung to his trouser legs, reminding him of the promise to feed them, and managed to snag a fair share of rations. But Kim Unhaeng wasn't one to stop there.
He approached the trading company executives, now easier to deal with since their boss was gone.
"Hey there, Supervisor. I hear the tribute payments have dried up lately, and you have nothing to report to your superiors? We just captured thirty men this time. As a foreigner, what glory could I possibly covet? I'll yield them all to you."
"Oh, truly the magnanimity of Joseon's Commander-in-Chief! Is there anything I can do in return...?"
"Truth be told, our soldiers are short on rations, starving far from home. We'd be grateful for a share of grain."
"How could a great power let reinforcements go hungry? Of course we'll help!"
The supervisors and deputy commanders readily agreed. But they too ached at the thought of their own men starving, so the grain steadily vanished from the supply convoys meant for the distant Fucha Fuheng.
Beijing didn't notice. Even without Kim Unhaeng dipping his spoon, it wasn't enough to lighten the burden significantly. Fucha Fuheng's resolve for a swift end to the war stemmed from the ever-mounting costs as well.
In such cases, armies typically forage locally as they advance.
But what enabled Fucha Fuheng to command this host was his patron Agui, and Agui's funds came from extorting bribes from the provinces.
In short, the localities no longer had the means to sustain a great army.
Even the warehouses of prosperity built by the Qiangjian provincial clique were starting to run dry.
Moreover, Hubei and Henan Provinces along Fucha Fuheng's line of march had their own issues.
Previously, the Qianlong Emperor had assembled troops from Hubei, Henan, Sichuan, and Shaanxi—four provinces—to hammer the British from behind.
Yet from the start, they were a disorganized rabble, a hammer with no swing.
The biggest reason was the financial strain from forming the Zhili Army. Shaanxi had already bled out from the prior Dzungar campaigns, while Sichuan was immobilized by the tangled mess of the Yunnan treasure saddle incident, the beauty warrior, and the Southern Barbarian Beast King.
Hubei and Henan, closer to Jiangnan, fared somewhat better, but even they lost the will to fight once their anvil, Li Shiyao, was smashed.
They couldn't just disband the army in defiance of imperial orders. So Hubei and Henan dragged their feet, making excuses about rebels in the province or rampant epidemics.
If Fucha Fuheng had been a flexible commander, he would have done one of two things immediately.
Either cleanly disband the armies of those two provinces to save rations, or—scorched earth in the center be damned—rally them all and rush south to end the war.
But as seen in the Shandong White Lotus suppression, Fucha Fuheng was a steadfast general. He stuck to protocol in this situation.
Fucha Fuheng met with Wu Dashan, the Governor-General of Huguang (overseeing Hubei and Hunan), and berated him.
"Those who hear the northern drums yet fail to advance are traitorous troops; those who defy orders are resentful troops. Do you truly wish to have your head on a spike per military law?"
The Governor-General held near-absolute authority over two provinces—a position that, in terms of influence and power rather than rank, surpassed even the Joseon king.
But that was among men. Fucha Fuheng was the Emperor's brother-in-law, practically divine.
Fucha Fuheng arrested Wu Dashan, rounded up the responsible officials from Hubei and Henan, imprisoned them, and for those without central backing, inexorably applied military law—severing heads.
It's understandable. The Qianlong Emperor had over-formed the Zhili Army against the White Lotus precisely to crush any southern Han schemes amid the chaos.
Expecting such empathy from the Hongqi Army and Green Standard generals assembled in those provinces was too much.
Now, no options remained.
Once investigations proceeded, their deliberate neglect would be exposed.
It was only a matter of time.
So they bolted before more time passed.
Most fled with their units intact, which saved Fucha Fuheng considerable rations, but he wasn't pleased.
The deserters' destination was Hangzhou.
With a death god named Fucha Fuheng descending from the north, south was the only way—and among southern holds, only Li Shiyao's Yangguang Governor-General territory still had real governance.
Li Shiyao felt the sky darkening.
He too had fretted over the Emperor's wrath if he showed no results before the Zhili Army arrived.
And the desperate Hubei and Henan generals egged him on further.
"The court already deems us criminals. Will you sit and await death?"
But how to resist 200,000 Zhili troops—whom even the Europeans feared—with a force shattered by the European alliance? Li Shiyao stalled them with platitudes about watching the situation.
By already sheltering deserters, he was ignoring his own traitor status.
In this way, Fucha Fuheng's interminable supply lines weakened like a spiderweb.
The deserters were honest loyalists, frankly. Starving bandits struck supply wagons fearlessly everywhere, including many former Green Standards.
Fucha Fuheng made the best call in this mess.
He split his 200,000-strong army in half, scattering detachments to guard the supply lines from Shandong to the Yangtze. Then, leading the relatively lightened remaining 100,000 like a gale, he crossed the Yangtze. The war had to end quickly first.
Late in the seventh lunar month of 1765, European land commander George Washington, at the vanguard, spotted about 20,000 Qing cavalry roughly 50 miles outside Nanjing.
It was the very day Han Jungnyang's 30,000 Joseon South Sea Fleet entered Nanjing harbor.
At that time, guarding the British Navy's ships of the line anchored in Nanjing, handling support for disembarked sailors and ship maintenance, was Captain John Amherst of HMS Arrogant.
Hardly menial work. Arrogant was a 74-gun ship of the line like flagship Hercules, and her captain, John Amherst, ranked second only to Admiral Henry Porter. Important duties for an important man.
The problem was that this John Amherst was the younger brother of Canada's plague lord Jeffrey Amherst—same blood.
His temperament matched his brother's too. John's staying behind instead of joining the honorable Tianjin assault? Sea battles bored him; slaughtering, raping, and looting inferior Orientals to "clean house" suited his tastes better. Not because he lacked talent for command.
So Joseon troops shoving in, begging for food, wouldn't thrill John Amherst. Their seamanship wasn't refined either—collisions and hull breaches among small ships had already occurred.
Still, as a senior officer, he refrained from insulting Han Jungnyang and the Joseons right there.
Instead, back on Arrogant, he smashed his chart table.
"Did they think we'd stockpiled food for them? A mere mob in numbers alone, their ships like monkey huts woven in imitation of men. Are things so dire we need their help?!"
Dudley Digges, captain of HMS Kennington and John's aide, offered a scheme. True to his ship's name, Henry Porter had left him behind like baggage.
"Stinking Orientals deserve fitting fare. The men are griping about ship stores anyway—dump that on them and requisition fresh veggies and meat from Colonel Washington or Colonel Du Dreene ashore?"
A brilliant ploy. Britain's Royal Navy, cradle of democracy, was so democratic that sailors often impeached (in this life) and deposed captains—often for hogging fresh meat.
The army already sidelined ignorant sailors from land fights, monopolizing loot and food. Here, John Amherst could represent the Navy.
"Capital idea."
The Joseons got heavily salted meat—they wouldn't know shank from steak—and protein-packed hardtack that looked abundant.
Perplexed by reports of the English giving bricks, Han Jungnyang had it brought.
Even after Huando's teeth chipped pounding it, bugs crawled from the shattered hardtack. Han Jungnyang was speechless.
Like receiving an empty tray only to find shit inside—Shunyu's plight. Han Jungnyang looked to the heavens and laughed bitterly.
"The barbarians bid men eat bugs! What use living?"
He'd planned gentle plundering, sparing lives out of guilt for fine Western cuisine. But this left no choice.
British cooking's infamy came from regressing while others advanced with abundant ingredients in modern times—this era, all were similar. Joseon ate rice for survival, not savor.
But giving rations even they rebelled over? The Liberation Corps, with scant ocean experience, stuck to dried rice cakes and steamed rice—outrage was natural.
Raising the whole force would meet soldiers head-on. Han Jungnyang opted for the Corps' specialty.
Ever-itchy-fisted sailors scattered, targeting easy-looking British troops everywhere.
"Hey, you fucking barbarian bastard. Gave us this to eat?"
"What?"
Marines shoved salt pork down British throats or smashed noses with hardtack. Some got tossed seaward in the "fun."
"Barnacles off the hull taste better. Scrape those!"
Facing an "enemy assault," they'd counter per manual. But "base brawl"? Call MPs, negotiate with officers—peacetime protocols first.
John Amherst did too. Seeking a damning protest to the Joseon commander over gunfire, he missed the golden hour.
And Han Jungnyang struck then.
"Hoist the red flag!"
The Liberation Corps lacked time for military traditions or refined command. Joseon's old navy didn't suit privateers; Kim Unhaeng had no such knowledge to offer.
Thus, barring gunnery technicalities, boarding actions boiled down to three simple regimes.
Silence without flagship signals.
Red flag like now? Seize all, kill all.
Until blue flag: "Flee without looking back."
"Red flag!"
"Enemy signal up!"
British, mixed with starving Joseons (and sometimes bodies), panicked at wolf-howling Koreans everywhere.
From mere arguments to eyes gouged, throats slit—panic doubled.
British sailors outmatched Joseons in experience, physique, weapons—barring numbers.
But all required mental prep.
Like sparring: unexpected hits hurt more than foreseen.
The Corps stole the Brits' adrenaline surge.
John Amherst dashed the deck, flailing.
"Fire! Blast those mad Koreans now!"
"B-but allied ships everywhere! Troops entangled with Joseons!"
"Doesn't matter! Fire!"
Dudley Digges barely restrained him.
"Guns haven't reloaded in ages anyway; most gunners ashore, few hands aboard. Better request our troops back from General Quan Zaiwu's army fast."
"What? Right—troops are there! Contact Washington—no, that Frenchman quick! Or—"
John Amherst trembled like a creaking puppet, howling.
The Navy's unpardonable humiliation loomed.
"Or the pirates seize our ships!"
Then, plotting Qing intercepts outside Nanjing, Washington inevitably downplayed John Amherst's full sailor recall plea.
"Ships aren't unmanned; can't he handle a mutiny alone? Unless those rowdy Koreans outnumber the Chinese before us, tell him to manage! Command here's mine!"
Washington already bore scars from French and Indian War, losing command to a homeland officer and suing. John unwittingly triggered it.
Rejecting Navy's bid, Army chief Washington refocused on ops.
Experience said repelling Chinese with European infantry squares was easy.
But numbers overwhelmed.
'Fall back to Nanjing defenses now?'
Yet Qing hordes encircling the city would strangle supplies.
Sea access's boon faded with the onboard revolt. Useless homeland navy—couldn't entrust the army's fate to them.
Washington opted to hold position.
Thus, unaware yet of the unforeseeable challenge within Nanjing's barricades.
Not all White Lotus followers Kim Unhaeng rescued could fight.
Scarce one in ten made combat troops.
Thus, the 500 "Kim Unhaeng Brotherhood" who sailed on Joseon ships, posing as other Chinese (they were)—entering Nanjing—were less elite picks than the merely hale-bodied.
But morale soared matchlessly.
Modern eyes dismiss Qing White Lotus revolts as absurd. How could a cult topple an empire, even rotten?
Yet history backs it.
The Ming Dynasty was founded by that White Lotus—the Red Turbans. No flash-in-pan; a proud Han banner state.
Seeing red flags rise from harbor Joseon fleet (line ships' masts tower), Chongzhen braids bound tight, the Jiangnan Heaven-Earth Society stood—as did Shandong's Kim Unhaeng Brotherhood near the palace. Both anti-Qing restore-Ming White Lotus offshoots.
In the palace, French priests held masses proclaiming Jupiter Emperor's vigor, praying victory.
Amid prayers, rock knight Du Dreene sensed oddity.
Springing up, he gaped. Smoke billowed past windows of Jianqing Palace—mass venue.
Heaven-Earth and White Lotus assaulting inside-out; only distinguishing cries filled heaven and earth.
"Chongzhen! Chongzhen!"
"Kill all the foreign devils!"
"Long live the Great Ming Emperor!"
Du Dreene didn't know, but sponsorship couldn't miss.
Jeju Myeonho Kim Eungseok—Han Jungnyang's old retainer, vital here—leveled his blade beside Meng Zan.
"By His Majesty and Commander Kim Unhaeng's decree! Men of East Sea Joseon come to repay Joseon restoration!"
Author's Notes
1. The bit about Qianlong raising armies from four provinces is in Chapter 224 'Petition of a Thousand' part; their failure to even mobilize properly in 226 'Liberator' part.
2. In 1765, Burma-China clash sparks Sino-Burmese War—one of Qing's Ten Great Campaigns in original history. Backstory roughly: Burmese warlord Gungringyan flees to Qing after internal strife; Yun-Gui Governor seeks his treasure saddle, fails, rages, hands him to rival Menglian (Qing-appointed Burmese lord). Per dubious legend, Menglian rapes Gungringyan's wife Nangzan (with her daughter(!)), she barehands 30 including him, escapes to Burmese king's brother, urges invasion.
3. Henan, direct central control, had no separate Governor-General. Hence only Huguang. Officially renamed 'Hubei-Hunan Governor-General' under Kangxi per records, but Qing Veritable Records call it Huguang like Ming.
4. John Amherst is indeed Jeffrey's brother and Arrogant's captain then, but no proof of Jeffrey-level racism. He did face court-martial for ramming port in HMS Mars command.
5. Dudley Digges real: commanded 20-gun frigate Kennington then. No relation or grudge with Porter Admiral. Namesake of 17th-c. Virginia investor MP Dudley Digges.
6. Sea service brutal; strikes/mutinies common. 'Strike' may derive from sailors cutting (striking) rigging to refuse sailing.
7. Jianqing Palace in Forbidden City and Gyeongbokgung—emperor's inner quarters. Here, named same to herald Ming restoration.
8. Kim Eungseok from 180 'Dog-Star' part—long time no see. Spearhead General from 98 'Ginseng War' debut, occasional appearances.