Japhy
Banned
Great Power Empire: China 1865
(With Apologies to Hendryk)
A Timeline In A While by Japhy
(With Apologies to Hendryk)
A Timeline In A While by Japhy
One: The Decision
Headquarters Camp, Hunan (Xiang) Army
August 2nd 1864
Nanjing was an unclean city.
Nanjing was a city of death.
Zeng Guofan felt disgust as he left the large tent where he had for many days managed the confession of his great rival, Li Xiucheng. Rotting corpses, the waste and residue of the conquering armies and the dead and living remnants of the population that had once lived in this snake's nest wafted through the air.
A constant reminder of what had been Nanjing for so many years. Of what it was now.
The transcription of the confession of the so-called Loyal King was almost finished. When it was done, and when Zeng had made sure that no ill was left in it against his leadership or that of the rest of his Hunanese commanders, Li Xiucheng would finally be released from his current unpleasantness.
It couldn’t happen a moment too soon. Was the quiet reply deep inside the Captain-General and Governor-General of the Yangtze provinces.
But now, in front of the troops, climbing once more into his sedan chair he had to be the Warlord and the Viceroy. The war itself may be over, settled as it always must have been, but it was not yet over. There was still more to do. Until the last of the rebel ‘Kings’ and their boy pretender were caught it would not be over.
And it was with that in mind that he came to this tent, for this conference.
The guards were posted outside, the servants and aides had been sent off when he lifted the flap himself and walked in to see three men sitting around a table, waiting.
In formality the three Hunan Army generals rose to their feet, and bowed. Guofan returned the bow each time. And then, came the varied smiles. It had been too long since the four brothers had been together all at once.
“Guoquan, Guohua, Guobao. It gladdens me to see you are all safe.” He offered emotionally. “We all must thank the Heavens for this blessing.” They’d buried too many family members in this war, too many allies.
Only luck has given you your triumphs, and only luck has let them escape this hell with their lives. Suggested the ever-present doubt.
“The blessings are being made brother.” Said Guoquan. “And for more than just ourselves.”
“The remnants of these bandit armies as we speak are fleeing towards Amman, hoping to find refuge. But what columns are left are falling apart. The cavalry forces nip at their heals. The final victory may already be at hand as we speak.” Said the oldest of the younger brothers, whom had proven to be the greatest operational commander in the family.
They took their seats and Guobao passed a cup of tea to his eldest brother and General.
“Things will not be finished, even then.” The youngest brother at thirty-six he had always been the one to be too blunt, and too determined to quietly wait his turn, Guobao’s points were always sharp and always forced. But Guofan accepted this, because there was always a mind just as sharp jabbing them.
Still, he could sense where this was going.
“Rebellion is the watchword of the times. We have already seen Duolonga and Zuo and so many others, with so many of our best troops, sent off to deal with rebellions that spread like brushfire. The Europeans lurk along our coasts and borders selling arms to anyone who shows up with cash.”
Let him stop there.
“And none can dare say what happened to the Xianfeng Emperor.” Came the conclusion. It hung in the silent air. The stench of death had entered the tent.
“He’s not wrong.” Guoquan broke the silence.
“I swore an oath. It is my duty, all of our duty to serve the Emperor, regardless of any circumstance.”
“No one here is telling you to break that oath, to violate the order of things.” Now it was Guohua’s turn to join this dangerous chorus. “What we are saying is that there is no order left. The Manchu’s have had their day. The sun set years ago. They offer nothing. The nations are looking to you. The mandate-”
“Don’t talk to me about mandates. I know all about mandates.”
“Then you know someone has to take it. Someone has to save the country. You’ve already done it, why not do it again?” Asked Guobao.
“You nearly died in this war, stopping the last man who thought he could exchange telegrams with the Gods.”
“I made it though, didn’t I?” Was the retort.
That had been a close run thing in 1862 though. Wounded outside of Nanjing, there had been a horrifying fever in the aftermath. Weeks where it seemed that the youngest brother would die any hour, while the others had to simply wait and look to their duties. And when the fevers finally broke, it had still taken months before Guofan’s decade’s younger brother made a real recovery.
“And anyway, he didn’t believe in the Gods, but that he was the fourth member of a trinity.”
“But what will the Empire think? What will the country?” Was the next volley from the Viceroy.
“There has been no country, not for five years or more.” Offered Guoquan. “The men fight for you. They’ll do anything for you.”
“And the other armies?”
“Do you really think that Zuo would not join you in a heartbeat if you asked?”
“What sign is there even that I am the one to do the deed? Where is it clear? How do you know they even want me to risk it, to risk all for you for this?”
“What more a sign do you need than that we are sitting here in Nanjing, by the merits of our force alone. If the Gods didn’t want you, they’d have just let Elgin or Burgevine take this victory.”
“And what,” Chimed in Guobao once more. “Do you take our survival to mean? In the face of all the plots, all the enemies, all the challenges, you have led us through them all. You have saved the country in doing so. There’s your proof: The Heaven’s wanted this, and they want you to finish the job.”
The voice wouldn’t be calmed in his mind. Luck is not the work of Heaven. And even if it was, what good would it be to take the throne anyway. Where’s the return to writing? Where would your books be?
But Guobao looked at his eldest brother and knew just what to offer. “It wasn’t luck.”
The others all nodded, in knowing agreement.
“It would be good for all of China. We need strong leadership. And strong leadership need not be something taken via pike-tip. You won this war by finding the right people to do the right jobs. You can do it again. And then you can do as you please. Some of our greatest triumphs have come under Scholar-Emperors.” Guohua pointed out.
The Governor-General tried to find another counter, some way to block the onslaught of his brothers’ arguments but, suddenly The Doubt didn’t have much to offer.
Maybe it never had.
Maybe it had just been a voice insisting that it wasn’t right for a man to take what was beyond his means. But the past two decades of disasters spoke for themselves.
And the great library he could build here in Nanjing, built around new palaces on the ashes of the Taiping, that spoke for itself too.
But--- Rang the voice.
No. Came a different one. From somewhere else. It was almost surprising, had it been there before? Drowned out maybe in the mighty clashes where action had been needed, damn the costs?
Zeng Guofan looked at his brothers, all three of them, once again. Bureaucrats and Teachers and Scholars they had proven themselves time and again as Generals in this long war. If he had to pick men, he would pick them again with the same absolute assurance he had done in the dark days of 1851.
He knew deep down, that they’d win. He just had to say the word. He knew that with them, he could save all of China.
He took another sip of his tea first though before he said it.
“Let the work begin.”
--------------------Nanjing was a city of death.
Zeng Guofan felt disgust as he left the large tent where he had for many days managed the confession of his great rival, Li Xiucheng. Rotting corpses, the waste and residue of the conquering armies and the dead and living remnants of the population that had once lived in this snake's nest wafted through the air.
A constant reminder of what had been Nanjing for so many years. Of what it was now.
The transcription of the confession of the so-called Loyal King was almost finished. When it was done, and when Zeng had made sure that no ill was left in it against his leadership or that of the rest of his Hunanese commanders, Li Xiucheng would finally be released from his current unpleasantness.
It couldn’t happen a moment too soon. Was the quiet reply deep inside the Captain-General and Governor-General of the Yangtze provinces.
But now, in front of the troops, climbing once more into his sedan chair he had to be the Warlord and the Viceroy. The war itself may be over, settled as it always must have been, but it was not yet over. There was still more to do. Until the last of the rebel ‘Kings’ and their boy pretender were caught it would not be over.
And it was with that in mind that he came to this tent, for this conference.
The guards were posted outside, the servants and aides had been sent off when he lifted the flap himself and walked in to see three men sitting around a table, waiting.
In formality the three Hunan Army generals rose to their feet, and bowed. Guofan returned the bow each time. And then, came the varied smiles. It had been too long since the four brothers had been together all at once.
“Guoquan, Guohua, Guobao. It gladdens me to see you are all safe.” He offered emotionally. “We all must thank the Heavens for this blessing.” They’d buried too many family members in this war, too many allies.
Only luck has given you your triumphs, and only luck has let them escape this hell with their lives. Suggested the ever-present doubt.
“The blessings are being made brother.” Said Guoquan. “And for more than just ourselves.”
“The remnants of these bandit armies as we speak are fleeing towards Amman, hoping to find refuge. But what columns are left are falling apart. The cavalry forces nip at their heals. The final victory may already be at hand as we speak.” Said the oldest of the younger brothers, whom had proven to be the greatest operational commander in the family.
They took their seats and Guobao passed a cup of tea to his eldest brother and General.
“Things will not be finished, even then.” The youngest brother at thirty-six he had always been the one to be too blunt, and too determined to quietly wait his turn, Guobao’s points were always sharp and always forced. But Guofan accepted this, because there was always a mind just as sharp jabbing them.
Still, he could sense where this was going.
“Rebellion is the watchword of the times. We have already seen Duolonga and Zuo and so many others, with so many of our best troops, sent off to deal with rebellions that spread like brushfire. The Europeans lurk along our coasts and borders selling arms to anyone who shows up with cash.”
Let him stop there.
“And none can dare say what happened to the Xianfeng Emperor.” Came the conclusion. It hung in the silent air. The stench of death had entered the tent.
“He’s not wrong.” Guoquan broke the silence.
“I swore an oath. It is my duty, all of our duty to serve the Emperor, regardless of any circumstance.”
“No one here is telling you to break that oath, to violate the order of things.” Now it was Guohua’s turn to join this dangerous chorus. “What we are saying is that there is no order left. The Manchu’s have had their day. The sun set years ago. They offer nothing. The nations are looking to you. The mandate-”
“Don’t talk to me about mandates. I know all about mandates.”
“Then you know someone has to take it. Someone has to save the country. You’ve already done it, why not do it again?” Asked Guobao.
“You nearly died in this war, stopping the last man who thought he could exchange telegrams with the Gods.”
“I made it though, didn’t I?” Was the retort.
That had been a close run thing in 1862 though. Wounded outside of Nanjing, there had been a horrifying fever in the aftermath. Weeks where it seemed that the youngest brother would die any hour, while the others had to simply wait and look to their duties. And when the fevers finally broke, it had still taken months before Guofan’s decade’s younger brother made a real recovery.
“And anyway, he didn’t believe in the Gods, but that he was the fourth member of a trinity.”
“But what will the Empire think? What will the country?” Was the next volley from the Viceroy.
“There has been no country, not for five years or more.” Offered Guoquan. “The men fight for you. They’ll do anything for you.”
“And the other armies?”
“Do you really think that Zuo would not join you in a heartbeat if you asked?”
“What sign is there even that I am the one to do the deed? Where is it clear? How do you know they even want me to risk it, to risk all for you for this?”
“What more a sign do you need than that we are sitting here in Nanjing, by the merits of our force alone. If the Gods didn’t want you, they’d have just let Elgin or Burgevine take this victory.”
“And what,” Chimed in Guobao once more. “Do you take our survival to mean? In the face of all the plots, all the enemies, all the challenges, you have led us through them all. You have saved the country in doing so. There’s your proof: The Heaven’s wanted this, and they want you to finish the job.”
The voice wouldn’t be calmed in his mind. Luck is not the work of Heaven. And even if it was, what good would it be to take the throne anyway. Where’s the return to writing? Where would your books be?
But Guobao looked at his eldest brother and knew just what to offer. “It wasn’t luck.”
The others all nodded, in knowing agreement.
“It would be good for all of China. We need strong leadership. And strong leadership need not be something taken via pike-tip. You won this war by finding the right people to do the right jobs. You can do it again. And then you can do as you please. Some of our greatest triumphs have come under Scholar-Emperors.” Guohua pointed out.
The Governor-General tried to find another counter, some way to block the onslaught of his brothers’ arguments but, suddenly The Doubt didn’t have much to offer.
Maybe it never had.
Maybe it had just been a voice insisting that it wasn’t right for a man to take what was beyond his means. But the past two decades of disasters spoke for themselves.
And the great library he could build here in Nanjing, built around new palaces on the ashes of the Taiping, that spoke for itself too.
But--- Rang the voice.
No. Came a different one. From somewhere else. It was almost surprising, had it been there before? Drowned out maybe in the mighty clashes where action had been needed, damn the costs?
Zeng Guofan looked at his brothers, all three of them, once again. Bureaucrats and Teachers and Scholars they had proven themselves time and again as Generals in this long war. If he had to pick men, he would pick them again with the same absolute assurance he had done in the dark days of 1851.
He knew deep down, that they’d win. He just had to say the word. He knew that with them, he could save all of China.
He took another sip of his tea first though before he said it.
“Let the work begin.”
Thoughts, Comments and Questions of course, are always welcome.
Last edited: