Enter the Wu-Tang (36 Chambers)

[subversivepancakes]

Excerpted from “The Yellow Tiger: A Biography of Zhang Xianzhong,” by Gary Grice.

- The peasant rebel leaders Li Zicheng and Zhang Xianzhong (张献忠) had been rivals for many years. Indeed, one perhaps apocryphal story holds that in 1635, when their combined forces sacked the Ming tombs located fifty kilometers outside of Beijing, they also captured a number of eunuch musicians who had been assigned to play music at the tombs. A dispute supposedly broke out between Li and Zhang over who would assume custody of these musicians. Li was the senior rebel leader and - perhaps more importantly - his army was bigger, so Zhang gave in, turning over the musicians. However, he had destroyed all of their instruments. Li then flew into a rage and had all of the hapless troubadours executed on the spot. Despite the long and bitter rivalry between the two, contemporary accounts report that after hearing of Li’s defeat and death in early 1645 Zhang sank into a deep depression. It was not out of love for his rival; rather, it was clear that he would be next. Zhang’s position was precarious. In addition to the Qing forces, he was also forced to deal with an active and vigorous opposition from Ming armies based in Anhui (安徽) Province. Realizing that he could not hope to stand against these two powerful foes, Zhang left his stronghold in the central Chang River valley and moved his army deep into the rugged fastness of Sichuan (四川) Province. He first seized the town of Chongqing (重庆) before moving deeper into the countryside, eventually making his capital in the prosperous city of Chengdu (成都). In March of 1645 Zhang formalized his conquest of Sichuan, declaring himself as the Hegemon-King (霸王, or Bawang) of a new nation, the State of Ba (巴国) (1). Intriguingly, the name hearkened back to the ancient state of the same appellation, which itself had been based in Sichuan.

In the early weeks and months of his reign, Zhang focused on arranging the internal structure and organization of his newly-created realm. A bureaucracy was established; it was mostly staffed by local scholars, many of whom were rather forcibly persuaded to take service with the new regime. Examinations - which were based on Confucian classics prior to the Great Awakening - were held, coinage was minted, and more than a hundred military camps and fortresses were constructed around Sichuan in preparation for the war that Zhang knew must come, whether it was to be against the Ming or the Qing. Additionally, Zhang divided responsibilities for the day-to-day affairs of the kingdom between his heretofore perpetually squabbling pair of adopted sons, Zhang Kewang （张可望）and Zhang Dingguo (张定国) (2). Kewang, a cautious and bookish sort, was given control of the State of Ba’s finances, while the more martially-minded Dingguo was named commander of the armed forces. Despite all of these measures, which created the nucleus of a functioning state, something was rotten in the State of Ba. It seemed, even to his closest confidants, as though Zhang Xianzhong was going slowly mad. The causes of Zhang’s psychological crisis - for this is what it was - are obviously unknown to us, but conjecture is not out of the question. Zhang had been at war for fifteen years continuously and was notoriously cruel and brutal. In Sichuan, suddenly he had no one to fight. Perhaps this inactivity, this time in which he could reflect on what he had done, caused the change in his state of mind . . .

Excerpted from “The Veritable Records of the State of Ba.” Vol. 1 (1645-1745), by Wang Wei.

- In the fifth cycle of the Year of Establishment [1645] the Hegemon-King grew discontented with the depthless iniquity of Man. It is said that he paced the halls of the Palace of Jade until even the Tiger grew weary [a reference to the Hour of the Tiger, 3-5 AM].

One day the Hegemon-King said to his ministers: “Man is fickle and cruel. What can be done to make him live in accordance with the will of Heaven?”

The Great Hall was silent.

Then the Hegemon-King went forth, and caused the thieves and adulterers and murderers and liars of the State of Ba to be brought before him (3). He cursed them as the Fallen, and ordered their heads removed, and fed to the ravenous crows, and their corpses committed to the flame.

Then the Hegemon-King said: “Heaven has brought forth numberless things for the support of Man. Man has not one virtue with which to recompense Heaven. Kill kill kill kill kill kill kill.” Thus spoke the Hegemon-King, and his words were proclaimed on the Seven-Kill Stele (4).

The purge of the Fallen continued for twenty days and twenty nights. Ten thousand heads were taken. The Hegemon-King was still discontented with the depthless iniquity of Man.

The Hegemon-King said: “It is incumbent upon Man to seek out the Kingdom of Heaven, and make restitution to the gods. Countless gifts have been laid at the feet of Man, who has kicked them aside. All of this has happened before, and all of this will happen again. Thus it must be averted.” (5)

Then the Hegemon-King caused his Astronomers to be brought forth before him, so that they might tell him the location of the Kingdom of Heaven, so that the Hegemon-King might offer restitution to the gods on behalf of Man . . .

Excerpted from “The Yellow Tiger: A Biography of Zhang Xianzhong,” by Gary Grice.

- After roughly a month, the mass executions that Zhang had put in motion tailed off. It appears that the Hegemon-King had simply grown bored with the idea of putting his subjects to death en masse, and had hit upon a new idea in keeping with his obsessions of sin and redemption. He would find Heaven, and apologize to the gods on behalf of humanity. The royal astronomers were summoned, and it is here that history turned. For had their names been Wang Wei and Li Peng, who knows that would have happened? As it happens, their names were Ludovico Buglio and Gabriel de Magalhaes, both of the Society of Jesus (6). And while they could not tell the Hegemon-King how to find Heaven, they could tell him a story about who lived there . . .

Excerpted from “A Guide to Recognizing Your Roman Catholic Saints: The Annotated and Illustrated Edition,” by Elgin Turner.

Z

Saint ZDISLAVA OF LEMBERK: (1220-1252). Beatified 28 August 1907, canonized 21 March 1995. Feast day January 1. Patronage: difficult marriages, people ridiculed for their piety, town of Lemberk.

Saint ZHANG XIANZHONG: (1601-1663). Beatified 1714, canonized 1755. Feast day April 4. Major shrine: Mausoleum of Tiancheng. Patronage: mountain climbers, astronomers, mortifiers of the flesh.

Saint ZITA: (1212-1272). Canonized 1696. Feast day April 27. Major shrine: Basilica di San Frediano, Lucca. Patronage: domestic servants, lost keys, rape victims, homemakers.

. . . . .

NOTES
(1) This is all as per OTL except for Zhang’s title and the name of the new state. In real life, the nation was called 大西国(Da xi guo, or “Great Western Kingdom”) and he declared himself the Dashun (大顺) Emperor. I admit that I don’t have any hard logic behind the new names . . . but I think that every timeline could use a Hegemon-King or two.

(2) They’re known OTL as Sun Kewang and Li Dingguo; after Zhang was killed, they reverted to their original family names. ITTL they’re still known by their adoptive father’s family name.

(3) What is left conveniently unsaid by our intrepid chronicler is that a lot of other people who didn’t do anything wrong suffered a rather gruesome fate as well.

(4) The Seven-Kill Stele may or may not have actually existed in real life.

[FONT=&quot](5) This is a departure from OTL, in which Zhang essentially continued wreaking havoc on Sichuan until he was killed by Qing forces in 1647. ITTL his madness is less pronounced - he’s less psychopathic batshit crazy and more mercurial whack job - and it also takes him in a different direction.[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot](6) As per OTL. Buglio and Magalhaes, the first Christians in Sichuan, had traveled there to do missionary work when Zhang moved in. OTL they were also made astronomers to the court, and then were essentially ignored. They somehow survived everything, and went back to Beijing after Zhang’s downfall. [/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]*I cut the Zhang Xianzhong post into two entries; the next one will be posted in a few days. As you can see, events in Sichuan will transpire a bit differently than was the case OTL. [/FONT]

 

[RGB]

You just love the peasant rebellions, eh?

Lovely, juicy detail! I'm definitely going to lurk and read.

 

[tormsen]

Ooooh, interesting developments. Shades of Asoka in an odd way.

 

[maverick]

Saint ZHANG XIANZHONG: (1601-1663). Beatified 1714, canonized 1755. Feast day April 4. Major shrine: Mausoleum of Tiancheng. Patronage: mountain climbers, astronomers, mortifiers of the flesh.

WTF?

but I think that every timeline could use a Hegemon-King or two.

Oh, I definitively agree.

 

[Rediv]

Saint ZHANG XIANZHONG: (1601-1663). Beatified 1714, canonized 1755. Feast day April 4. Major shrine: Mausoleum of Tiancheng. Patronage: mountain climbers, astronomers, mortifiers of the flesh.

[FONT=&quot] [/FONT]

Wow, that really came out of left field! And a heck of a cliffhanger, too. This story just gets better and better with each update.

Also, I have to wonder how Zhang earned his first and third patronages ... but I have a feeling we'll be hearing more about that soon enough.

 

[Alex Richards]

Excellent. Subscribed.

I found myself reading this while listening to Turandot. Quite an experience. This production was live at the Forbidden City!

 

[subversivepancakes]

Zhang Xianzhong is definately a figure that could be well-used in a TL, I was almost about to use him in mine (with him ending up as the fearsome warlord of Burma in the end) but I decided butterflies would likely mean he would never have been born. I somewhat regret it actually

He's a guy who I think should be included in every single late-Ming timeline written. It's hard to top Zhang for sheer lunacy. And placing him as the fearsome warlord of Burma is a pretty good idea, although his conquering armada of doom is headed in a different direction in this timeline . . . no spoilers, though.

You mean the Old Master?

Yeah, I kind of halfway translated it. I mean, his name wasn't Lao, but he probably didn't even exist in the first place.

You just love the peasant rebellions, eh?

Lovely, juicy detail! I'm definitely going to lurk and read.

Guilty as charged. I'm intrigued not only by peasant rebellions in general but also by the periods in between dynasties, because almost anything is possible. You've really got much more of a blank slate to work with, which is what's fun when you're writing a timeline.

Ooooh, interesting developments. Shades of Asoka in an odd way.

You're talking about the ancient Indian king, right? Sometimes his name is spelled Asoke, other times Ashoke, Asoka, etc? If so, I didn't think of it, but it's a great parallel. As I've written it, Zhang Xianzhong essentially goes a little crazy trying to think of ways to atone for all of the sins he's committed, the people he's killed in gruesome ways, etc. I had the idea when I was reading the Seven-Kill Stele - it really sounds like the words of someone who's given up hope on atonement.

WTF?

OK, this is a fair reaction. If this TL ever makes it to whenever I said that Zhang would be canonized (stranger things have happened!), there's going to be some high-speed handwaving necessary . . .

Wow, that really came out of left field! And a heck of a cliffhanger, too. This story just gets better and better with each update.

Also, I have to wonder how Zhang earned his first and third patronages ... but I have a feeling we'll be hearing more about that soon enough.

I had actually written the entire thing and then I came across the information about the two Jesuits in Zhang's court. So I thought of the conversion angle and had to rewrite the entire thing. Totally worth it. As for the patronages, the first one will be an entertaining tale. the third one will be depressingly predictable.

Excellent. Subscribed.

I found myself reading this while listening to Turandot. Quite an experience. This production was live at the Forbidden City!

Thanks! Glad you like it. Of course, this whole thing has been written while listening to the Wu-Tang Clan. Cash rules everything around me, CREAM, get the money, dollar dollar bill y'all . . .

 

[subversivepancakes]

Excerpted from “Missive to the Father-General of the Society of Jesus Concerning Some Recent Happenings in the Celestial Kingdom,” by Ludovico Buglio. 1655.

[FONT=&quot] - . . . and so it came to pass that Fr. de Magalhaes and your humble correspondent, far from fulfilling our mission of spreading Christ’s word in the wild land of See-Chwan [Sichuan], found ourselves as court astronomers to the Hegemon-King of Ba [Zhang Xianzhong]. We were treated with a peculiar mixture of suspicion and indifference at first, which gradually dissipated as de Magalhaes, who had some facility with the language of the Celestial realm, made himself agreeable to our native captors, who fancied themselves as our employers as well . . .[/FONT]

For the first time since entering the Hegemon-King’s service in the spring of 1645, we were summoned before him in the autumn of that same year, ostensibly to answer some trifling query on the phases of the moon. In the brief glimpses we had heretofore seen of the Hegemon-King, he had appeared to be a kind and wise ruler, gentle of temper and ever with a calm visage (1). On our entrance to the great audience chamber, we were thus discomfited to observe His Majesty in the throes of a passionate fit; he rent his garments, tore his hair, and gnashed his teeth most piteously. Upon sighting your humble correspondent, he approached us and loudly demanded that we inform him as to the exact location of Heaven, and further, that we furnish His Majesty with some means of transportation, that he might voyage there, to converse with his heathen gods. Looking about, it was clear that even the King’s guards and advisers were horrified to see him in such condition, and they feared his great and terrible wrath. Your humble correspondent immediately surmised that the King was in the midst of a great spiritual crisis. His soul, lost in darkness, cried out, begging to be saved. Was this not our mission? I thanked the Lord for presenting his humble servant with an opportunity to lead the King of Ba into the nourishing light of Jesus Christ, then motioned to de Magalhaes to translate . . .

Excerpted from “The Yellow Tiger: A Biography of Zhang Xianzhong,” by Gary Grice.

- The old saw about how there is no greater zealot than a convert proved itself true in the case of Zhang Xianzhong, Hegemon-King of the State of Ba. Although few accounts other than Ludovico Buglio’s highly-biased tale of the meeting in which Zhang was converted survive, it is easy enough to see the attractiveness of Catholicism to a man who was consumed by thoughts of sin and redemption (2). Zhang took to his new faith like a fish to water. Naturally, he decided that everyone else in his kingdom should experience the wonders of Christianity as well. It was thus that a series of decrees were issued in the fall and winter of 1645 mandating the conversion to Christianity of every subject of the State of Ba. It is not without irony that Zhang’s decrees unquestionably did more to harm Chinese Christianity in the long run than they ever did to help it. The fundamental problem was that virtually no one in the entire kingdom, other than the missionaries de Magalhaes and Buglio (3), knew anything about this strange new religion which they were all now adherents of. After the conversion decrees, an enormous workshop was erected in Chengdu for the purpose of producing translations of the Bible in Chinese; meanwhile, de Magalhaes and Buglio conducted massive seminars in the public square, where they would explain the basic tenets of Christianity to bewildered bureaucrats who had been ordered to educate the populace in their new faith. It is perhaps unsurprising that this madcap rush to embrace Christianity left Zhang’s subjects with a less than complete understanding of exactly what this new religion demanded of them. In many townships and counties, especially in the countryside, magistrates simply gave up on attempting to educate peasants in a religion that they did not understand themselves and simply ordered that the Christian God (in some places, the Holy Trinity) be blended into Chinese folk religion and worshipped along with the old gods (4). Furthermore, a seemingly endless series of typographical errors in the translated Bibles which administrators had been given for the edification of the populace caused confusion and misunderstanding, resulting in a bizarre mélange of heterodox sects developing, some of which still survive to this day. (For more information on this fascinating topic, Jean-Paul Morimoto’s The Rabbit Worshippers of Leshan is an informative and entertaining read).

It was only in the largest cities that Christianity was given a more rigorous introduction to the citizenry of Ba, at least in the initial months after Zhang Xianzhong’s conversion. It was also only in the largest cities that there are reports of significant disturbances in response to Christianity’s introduction; the incoherent and haphazard approach to evangelization in the countryside, as described above, produced more confusion than resentment among the rural populace. However, in the capital city of Chengdu, all existing temples were torn down in preparation for their replacement by Christian churches, a development that agitated large portions of the citizenry, who feared that the gods would curse them with catastrophes in response to the destruction of the temples. In several instances, riots broke out as demolition crews attempted to start their work and were assaulted by angry residents of temple-centered neighborhoods. Zhang responded by ordering troops from a military encampment outside Chengdu to enter the city and “pacify” the affected areas. Needless to say, the death toll was not inconsiderable. Later that winter, a system was introduced in Chengdu whereby only citizens who swore an oath to “embrace the one true God” were allowed to receive food from the city granaries, which was needed by many after a poor harvest season. Coercive measures such as these helped to stamp out much of the opposition to Christianity - which was disorganized and uncoordinated in any event - and everywhere outside Chengdu, as we have seen, Christianity was introduced in a much less confrontational and obtrusive manner. In Chongqing, the second city of the State of Ba, the city magistrate chose simply to “repurpose” existing temples and shrines as Christian churches, removing any overt signs of non-Christian deities but in practice allowing traditional forms of worship to continue relatively unimpeded.

It was also in the spring of 1646 when Zhang Xianzhong began planning his next campaign. Many of his advisors favored a move south, into what they felt would be the lightly-defended terrain of Yunnan (云南) Province. Buglio and de Magalhaes, who had been elevated to the highest ranks at court and were consulted by Zhang on almost every decision of importance, favored an eastern campaign. They hoped that by striking a blow against the Qing and linking up with Southern Ming forces, Zhang - and Christianity - would be in a strong position when the Qing were defeated, as Buglio and de Magalhaes assumed was inevitable (5). Zhang had other ideas. Although his conversion to Christianity was sincere, he retained some of his more unorthodox ideas, and both Buglio and de Magalhaes valued their heads highly enough to dissuade them from more strongly disabusing Zhang of some rather heretical notions that he still held. Indeed, even though Zhang had been assured of his absolution and salvation through devotion to Jesus Christ, sources indicate that he thought it was all a bit too good to be true. He would not rest until he had found Heaven and spoken to God himself. It was for these reasons that Zhang finally decided that his armies would march neither south nor east in the spring of 1646. Instead, they would look to the west. Where better to find Heaven than the roof of the world, after all? Zhang Kewang remained in Chengdu as a caretaker regent, Zhang Dingguo was deputized to patrol the eastern border and guard against Qing incursions, and in May of 1646, Zhang Xianzhong marshaled his armies and invaded Tibet . . .

NOTES
(1) It is uncertain whether Buglio was genuinely ignorant of the more bloodthirsty aspects of Zhang’s character, or was merely seeking to downplay them.

(2) “You mean that all I need to do is pray a bunch, and I can be assured of eternal happiness, even though I have murdered thousands of people? What a deal!”

(3) I’ve mentioned it already, but just to reiterate, de Magalhaes and Buglio are OTL characters. They were Jesuits who traveled to Sichuan as missionaries, were captured by Zhang’s invading forces, and spent a couple of years as court astronomers before the Qing destroyed Zhang’s armies.

(4) This may or may not have interesting consequences down the road.

(5) Buglio and de Magalhaes are cut off from the rest of China, so their plans regarding who to support are really just so much guesswork. In fact, other Jesuits are making inroads with the Qing, as future updates will make clear.

*Unfortunately, we’ll have to wait to hear about the adventures of Zhang Xianzhong in Tibet. Next I’ll start talking about the Southern Ming. Zheng Chenggong, enter stage left . . .

 

[RGB]

Love the rabbit-worshippers. Nice touch.

Ba seems like a good possible candidate for Dynasty Founder status, if his sanity remains. Don't know if he'll last with his chosen religion though, or if his sucessors will.

 

[maverick]

That was interesting, hilarious and scary.

I also see that the insertion of Christianity in a relatively isolated province of the Chinese Periphery is going as I thought it would, and as is going in Japan within my own TL. Working out Catholicism in societies like this is always a fun exercise, especially when you have characters like good ole Zhang.

 

[subversivepancakes]

Excerpted from “Waning Brightness: The Empire of the Southern Ming,” by Maxwell S. Hammer.

- Even as Beijing fell and the body of the Chongzhen Emperor dangled from an elm tree in Beihai Park (北海公园), the foundations were being laid in Nanjing (南京) for the continuation of government and of the Ming Dynasty. The first task, of course, was to settle on a suitable candidate for Emperor. While the Chongzhen Emperor’s son and heir had perished amidst the chaos of the fall of Beijing, there was certainly no shortage of princes, and there was also an established procedure for the succession. Thus it was that in June of 1644, Zhu Yousong, the Prince of Fu, ascended to the throne as the Hongguang (弘光) Emperor in Nanjing. Far too many modern historians choose to present this moment as the beginning of the Ming’s return to glory, or at least their return from obsolescence. In fact, the Hongguang Emperor’s nascent regime almost collapsed on numerous occasions and was plagued in its early years by myriad structural problems that impeded governance and the development of centralized authority. In particular, there were two persistent problems with the Southern Ming Empire that would take it to the brink of disaster.

The first, and undoubtedly the most glaring, of these problems was that Hongguang was almost completely reliant on “generals” who in fact were little more than mercenary warlords. Indeed, the bulk of the forces available to the Southern Ming came from the personal armies of four of such men: Gao Jie, Huang Degong, Liu Liangzuo, and Liu Zeqing. Without their armies, the Southern Ming would be almost helpless against the waves of Manchu invaders sweeping down from the north. Yet life with Gao, Huang, Liu and Liu was no easy ride, either. Personal rivalries and petty squabbling were the order of the day among the so-called “guardian generals” of the Southern Ming. Although the Hongguang Emperor was largely dependent on the four great warlords to guard the approaches to Nanjing north of the Chang River (长江), he also had to deal with the constant fear that one or more of the warlords would defect if given a sweet enough offer from the Qing, as so many other former loyalists had already done. If that was not enough, each of the four great warlords sent lackeys and relatives to intrigue at the imperial court in Nanjing, causing all manner of anger and ill-will. Not that the imperial court needed any help in generating those emotions . . .

Indeed, dissension at court was perhaps the single greatest factor contributing to the general climate of chaos and disorganization in the early days of the Southern Ming. Unfortunately for all concerned, the Hongguang Emperor’s advisers were preoccupied with fighting the battles of the previous generation, rather than focusing their attention on the Manchu crisis. The major conflict at court pitted the influential eunuchs, led by Ma Shiying, against the partisans of the Donglin faction, led by Minister of War Shi Kefa. His Donglin faction, which had been alternately praised and reviled over the last twenty-five years depending on who was in power at the time, had its roots in opposition to corrupt officials, most prominently railing against the excesses of the eunuchs. Needless to say, the eunuchs themselves did not take kindly to this criticism, and the court of the Hongguang Emperor was thus riven with factional disputes, as pro- and anti-eunuch coalitions coalesced around the persons of Ma Shiying and Shi Kefa, respectively. Ma had the better of the internecine conflict in the early months of the Southern Ming; it was he who ferried the then-Prince of Fu to Nanjing in a fleet he had commandeered during the fall of Beijing, and it was he who won the callow and indecisive emperor’s ear during the chaotic beginning of his reign. Shi Kefa retired from court sometime in the fall or winter of 1644, decamping to the city of Yangzhou to oversee the defenses there against the assault that he knew must surely come. For after some desultory negotiations, in which Hongguang had asked the Qing ever so politely to leave China and go back where they came from, and the Manchu regent Dorgon had responded with a counteroffer in which he generously offered to spare Hongguang’s life were he to surrender at once, it was clear that the two sides had very little to talk about. War was coming, and it seemed as though the bureaucrats and generals of the Southern Ming would be just as content with fighting each other as they would with fighting the Qing. It seemed as though the nascent Southern Ming was destined to be strangled in its cradle . . . (1)

NOTES
(1) Everything here is as per OTL.

*If you couldn’t tell, this is basically an introduction/setting the stage post. Apologies if it doesn’t seem all that wild and crazy; bureaucratic infighting just doesn’t make for as much action as lunatic warlords or rapper-inspired religious revolutionaries. Next up will be the big Southern Ming divergence, and the action there will take us through 1645 and into 1646. Let me know what you think, and thanks for following along so far.

 

[maverick]

Oh, that was interesting, as well as close to IOTL...Actually, I think that was pretty much what happened IOTL

 

[Malta]

Its interesting how their is always a southern remant of a previous Dynasty, especially Ming. In my own TL "Riding the Eternal Blue Sky" the Tang falls to the shor tlived Zhou Dynasty which turns into a "Kingdoms" period of disunity before resolving in the south as the Nan or Southern Dynasty, though this dynasty also has the monkier of Ming despite being in the 8th century.

 

[Rediv]

Its interesting how their is always a southern remant of a previous Dynasty, especially Ming.

Very true. Even if if isn't too exciting, as you said, Subversive Panda, this was still a very interesting post. These last remnants of the Ming are something you really don't hear anything about in an average history of the period (or at least I haven't heard any of this before). So I enjoyed the irony of how "most scholars see this as the Ming's return to glory."

 

[subversivepancakes]

Excerpted from “Righteous Lord of Nine Thousand Years: A Biography of Shi Kefa,” by Yuji Nakazawa.

- As 1644 gave way to 1645, the very survival of the Southern Ming was in the balance. Their fate teetered on a knife edge, and no one knew this better than Shi Kefa (史可法), who had been put in charge of military affairs and commanded the armies of the Hongguang Emperor from his base at Yangzhou. Shi’s task was far from an easy one; he had to deal with the endless squabbling of his immediate subordinates, the four “guardian generals,” as well as with a steady stream of defections to the Qing on the part of local sub-commanders. All the while, he was hampered by the disorganization and incoherency that characterized the Nanjing regime controlled by the Emperor’s chief adviser, eunuch Ma Shiying (马士英), a man vastly more skilled at factional infighting than at formulating policy. Indeed, Shi himself had been sent to Yangzhou by Ma Shiying, because the latter did not want Shi anywhere near the inconstant and susceptible Hongguang Emperor. The two men had long been rivals; Shi was associated with the anti-corruption and anti-eunuch Donglin movement, and Ma, as mentioned, was himself a eunuch. For all of these reasons, Shi’s job was perhaps more akin to that of a cat herder than a commanding general; his greatest difficulty was getting his subordinates to move in the same direction. Yet despite all of this, Shi formulated a shockingly bold and aggressive battle plan in that cold and damp winter of 1644-5. Rather than let the Manchu armies come to him, Shi decided to go to them, hoping to win a decisive battle and break out north of the Chang River on to the Central Plain (1). In late February of 1645, Shi began his offensive, moving his army out of Yangzhou and linking up with Gao Jie, one of the “guardian generals” (2). Those two armies began their northern march on or about February 27th and moved towards the army commanded by the Manchu Prince Duoduo. Meanwhile, Shi ordered guardian generals Zuo Liangyu (3) and Huang Degong, who were based further west, to make threatening diversionary movements towards the other Manchu army in the region, this one commanded by the Prince Haoge. Shi’s objective was to descend quickly on Duoduo’s army and force it into combat before the Manchu prince saw the danger and moved to link up with his subordinate Haoge.

Duoduo dithered for two days before deciding that attempting to link up with Haoge was useless, and retreating from the advancing Southern Ming was unlikely to win him favor with the Prince Regent Dorgon, who ruled in Beijing until the child Shunzhi (顺治) Emperor attained his majority. This left Duoduo with only one option - attack - and he did just that. The two sides met on March 5th in what has come to be known as the Battle of Huai’an (淮安), although the actual fighting took place more than ten kilometers east of the city itself. Reliable eyewitness accounts are few and far between, but it seems that sometime in the early afternoon, after several hours of combat, Shi Kefa succeeded in turning Duoduo’s right flank, and proceeded to neatly roll up the Manchu army. The casualties on both sides probably numbered in the tens of thousands, including Shi’s subordinate Zuo Liangyu. Meanwhile, Duoduo had the misfortune to be captured alive; he was sent in irons to Nanjing, where he made the acquaintance of the Hongguang Emperor’s eunuch torturers. The ultimate manner of his demise is disputed. Shi Kefa’s dramatic victory at Huai’an had numerous consequences, for both the victors and the vanquished. In Beijing, Dorgon cursed and raged. The momentum of what seemed the unstoppable Manchus had been halted in Jiangsu, and immediate measures had to be taken to prevent Shi Kefa from continuing north into Shandong. Dorgon turned to what was perhaps the most potent weapon in his arsenal, the former Ming general turned traitor Wu Sangui, who was recalled from his pacification campaign in eastern Gansu and ordered to defeat Shi by any means necessary. In reality, the situation was not quite as urgent as Dorgon believed it to be. Shi Kefa’s army was in no condition to advance anywhere, save perhaps to the infirmary, and Shi in fact withdrew to Yancheng three days after the Battle of Huai’an concluded, there to recuperate and to plot his next move. Meanwhile, the Prince Haoge’s army avoided engagement with Southern Ming forces; after receiving word of Duoduo’s defeat, Haoge decided to move further west and wait for Wu Sangui’s arrival before taking further action. He thus entered northern Hubei - and it was there that he met the Wu-Tang Clan . . .

Excerpted from “Waning Brightness: The Empire of the Southern Ming,” by Maxwell S. Hammer.

- After the victory at Huai’an, Shi Kefa was immediately beset by new crises that demanded attention. The first was caused by the death in battle of his subordinate, General Zuo Liangyu. With Zuo’s death, his army, which would perhaps be more accurately described as an armed mob, started to disintegrate, splintering into smaller bands and moving into the countryside to pillage and plunder. Shi attempted to reconstitute the army around a new commander, the former pirate Zheng Zhilong (郑芝龙), whose charisma and élan managed to win the support of enough of what was formerly Zuo’s army to maintain its viability as a fighting force. Still, Shi was forced to detach troops to hunt down the renegade splinter groups from Zuo’s army, which took time and distracted him from planning what he had hoped would be a new offensive north into Shandong. Of course, any thoughts of further advance were soon banished by events, which saw Shi’s army racing back south towards Nanjing itself.

For it was in the spring of 1645 that the internecine feuding of the Southern Ming court and generals finally came to a head. For months, those in disfavor had been slowly coalescing into a coherent group. They were many and varied, and included Donglin proponents, those who had called for the Prince of Lu to be crowned, rather than the current occupant of the throne, and numerous other scholar-officials who had antagonized Ma Shiying. In April, they sent a memorial to Huang Degong, another of the “guardian generals,” asking him to intervene and “sweep away the parasites that cling to the Son of Heaven.” Huang complied with the petition in a manner more bold than anyone was expecting; he left his post on April 19th and marched his army towards Nanjing, intending to “sweep away the parasites” with overwhelming force (4). Huang imagined himself as a champion of righteousness, and was thus surprised when he failed to pick up additional support on his march. Nevertheless, his army was more than sufficient to accomplish the task he had set out for it, and panic ensued in the Nanjing court. Shi Kefa was recalled from northern Jiangsu, and ordered to march south and destroy Huang’s army.

Shi was highly unenthusiastic about abandoning his hard-won position - all the more so given that he essentially agreed with Huang Degong’s position that the Hongguang Emperor was surrounded by corrupt and mendacious advisors. Shi attempted to drag his feet, but when a second order came from the Emperor himself, he reluctantly turned his army around and began marching it back south towards Nanjing. Clearly, the Southern Ming were in disarray, but the Manchus could not profit from their division. Wu Sangui had yet to arrive on the scene, and Haoge had his hands more than full in Hubei Province putting down the ferocious guerilla movement that had emerged. The Qing simply did not have the troops in position to take advantage of their rival’s weakness. In any event, Shi marched his troops south, although surviving records indicate that he was in no great rush to do so. It is unclear whether it would have made any difference had he hurried - his northern offensive had left him out of position to defend Nanjing - but he was two days slower than Huang Degong, whose forces entered the Southern Capital on May Day of 1645.

Huang immediately set to work cleansing the court after his arrival, capturing every eunuch he could lay his hands on and putting them to death at once. The Hongguang Emperor was put under guard, and coerced to sign a document naming Huang as his new Chief Minister. The Two Days Purge, as it is known, was as short-lived as its name suggests. For on May 3rd the army of Shi Kefa arrived. Huang’s forces, which had been busily drinking themselves into a stupor when not hunting down those whom their commander disapproved of, were in no condition to dress themselves, let alone fight a battle. Shi freed the emperor, was rewarded by being named the Chief Minister himself, and proceeded to more or less finish what Huang had started. The more things change, the more they stay the same. Still, after all of the shouting and bloodletting, the internal divisions in the court had been removed, and power was firmly consolidated in Shi’s hands. He thus began a more rigorous reorganization of the Southern Ming forces, while warily keeping an eye on the north, where Wu Sangui would soon make his presence felt . . .

NOTES
(1) There’s some evidence to indicate that Shi actually wanted to pursue an offensive strategy OTL, but the divisions and infighting in the Ming court prevented him from doing it. Those divisions are still present ITTL, but the breaking point has basically been pushed back a few months, so Shi has a free hand for now.

(2) Gao Jie’s death in OTL has been butterflied away by Shi’s offensive, which changes the entire tactical situation in Jiangsu.

(3) I forgot to mention him in the last update, but Zuo is another of the “guardian generals,” who are more accurately described as warlords.

(4) Something very similar to this happened in OTL - although I’ve changed a few details - and was part of the reason why the Nanjing regime fell, as Shi had to leave Yangzhou, and when he returned the Qing armies were knocking on the door. ITTL, the Ming have enough breathing room to sort out their own divisions without being pressed too hard by the Qing, due to Shi’s victory at Huai’an.

*Next update, we’ll go back to the Wu-Tang Clan . . . excitement! Let me know what you think of things so far, and thanks for reading.

 

[varyar]

This continues to be hell of a lot of fun to read. Can't wait for the next installment!

 

[Tom Veil]

"Law of War" would be a misleading translation because, at the time when Art of War was becoming well known in Europe, "Law of War" referred to war crimes, the process of negotiating peace treaties, and the like.

More importantly, I hope Lao Zang Huaidan appears in this timeline soon, live and uncut. His style is unbreakable, shatter-proof.

 

[RGB]

I like that Shi guy. Cause southern Mings means more navally goodness.

Blaming eunuchs for everything ... too many people with entrenched interests in the court always ends like that, regardless of presense or absense of you know what!

 

[maverick]

Oh, that was unexpected.

The Wu-Tang will finally return! and Shi-Kefa now has unlimited power in Southern China! Things look ominous for the Qing!

 

[subversivepancakes]

Excerpted from “The Story of the Glorious Sword of the Wu-Tang Clan,” by Gao Feiyang. (1)

BOOK V: WU-TANG VERSUS THE GOLDEN PHOENIX

- In the fourth month of the first year of the reign of the Hongguang Emperor came the barbarian invaders to Hubei. Their army swarmed like ants over the surface of the land, and they inflicted ten thousand injuries and indignities upon the common people. They were filled with desire, and with longing for things that were not and could never be, and they knew not the joy of emptiness and the unconscious. So they caused things to be done that should not have been done. The Wu-Tang Clan resolved to destroy the barbarian general, and remove the scourge from the land. But the barbarian general was guarded by a warrior of fierce and unnatural power, named the Golden Phoenix. So the Nine Masters of the Wu-Tang Clan trekked to the Citadel of Thunder and Lightning, where the Golden Phoenix dwelled with ten thousand soldiers, and began the ferocious attack. They fell upon the barbarians with perfected martiality, destroying the foes without mercy.

Ri Za said, “Let us bring the raucous noise of war to the enemy!”

Inspector of the Deck said, “The Wu-Tang Clan is not a thing to be trifled with!”

The Nine Masters fought on. Ghost-Face Killer saw that Rui Kong was about to be attacked from behind by a host of the foe.

Then Ghost-Face Killer said, “Rui Kong! On guard! You had better protect your neck!”

So Rui Kong turned and slew the enemy with contemptuous ease. Then he said, “Shame on a barbarian for this cowardly action!”

During the battle the Wu-Tang Clan displayed no effort and took no conscious actions, in accordance with the Dao. Thus nothing was left undone. The Nine Masters vanquished the legion of foes, and arrived in a vast circular room, with ten thousand doors and ten thousand windows. You-God said, “This room is the Seventh Chamber. Inside we will find the Golden Phoenix.” So the Nine Masters entered.

Inside they found the Golden Phoenix. He stroked his mustache, and preened and strutted. Then he said, “There are nine of you, and I am but one. Which of you shall fight me honorably in chess-fighting?”

Then the Old Dirty Bastard gave a shout, for his skill in the mysteries of chess-fighting was renowned. “My style is unbreakable! Prepare to be defeated most ignominiously,” he said.

So the warriors sat above the chessboard, and moved the pieces to and fro. After the sand had left the glass, they engaged in honorable combat, before returning to the chess match. But the Golden Phoenix was sly and treacherous. During the clash of minds, he furtively removed a knife, and attempted a quick strike.

The Old Dirty Bastard blocked the blow. Then he laughed. “Ha! I am the Old Dirty Bastard, alive and uncut!” Then he dealt the Golden Phoenix a mighty blow, stunning him, and the Nine Masters bound the foe and stood around him to render a final verdict.

Master Killer said, “It is not the Wu-Tang Clan who sits in judgment of you, Golden Phoenix. We have gone forth, to the towns and villages, and have done a survey of the common people, who have decided how you shall answer for your crimes.”

The Golden Phoenix sneered, again. “What do I care for the Han people?” So said he with contempt in his serpent’s voice.

Then Method Man gave a shout. “And the survey says - you are dead!” So he chopped off the Golden Phoenix’s head. Thus ended the battle.

Excerpted from “Disciples of the 36 Chambers: A New History of the Wu-Tang Clan,” by Lamont Hawkins.

- The Wu-Tang Clan’s struggle to overthrow the Qing and restore the Ming entered a new phase in May 1645, when the Manchu general and prince Haoge moved his army into Hubei following the events of the Battle of Huai’an (2). Previously, the only Qing forces stationed in Hubei had been small detachments; while larger armies had transited the province, their passage was quick. Haoge, on the other hand, intended to stay in Hubei indefinitely, until at least Wu Sangui arrived from the west and a new battle strategy could be developed against the suddenly ascendant armies of the Southern Ming. This was thus the first chance for the Wu-Tang Clan to show their revolutionary chops and make an impression beyond the relatively small piece of northern and central Hubei in which they had operated up to this point. The early signs were not good. Almost immediately, the Clan broke out into factional infighting; although records are sketchy as to the personages involved in the debate, the crux of the argument centered on whether to attack the Manchu forces immediately or to wait, build up strength, and focus on a guerilla campaign. The Wu-Tang response was initially feeble and haphazard. Small units entered battle on their own initiative and were destroyed, while other warriors simply quit in disgust over the internal turmoil. The official chronicle of the Wu-Tang exploits, Story of the Glorious Sword of the Wu-Tang Clan, retreats into outright myth when discussing this period. Some historians have argued that the tale of “Wu-Tang vs. the Golden Phoenix” is in fact an extended metaphor on the need for the Clan to unite; this historian, frankly, doubts that the author (the mysterious “Gao Feiyang”) had the literary skills to pull such a rabbit out of his hat. The Clan simply bided their time during this period of debate, choosing not to openly display their power and force and thus avoiding a full-scale confrontation with Haoge’s army.

In any event, the strategy of doing nothing - what the Wu-Tang Clan was forced into during their internal debate - proved profitable after all. When Haoge issued decrees ordering all male Chinese to adopt the Manchu hairstyle (the “queue”), a pent-up dam of revolutionary sentiment, which had been building since the military occupation of Hubei began, burst suddenly and without warning (3). The Wu-Tang quickly took advantage, publicizing the decision, comprehensively denouncing the Manchus as “barbarian invaders,” and promising the restoration of the Ming. Throughout the summer of 1645, the Clan stepped up their guerrilla campaign while at the same time incorporating the new arrivals to the cause into their rapidly growing army. Then, in September, the Wu-Tang struck. A team of assassins infiltrated Wuchang and killed the Prince Haoge in his sleep. While the Manchu army was trying to decide what had hit them, Clan leadership called together their forces at Wudang Mountain, where formal ceremonies were held. Then the army marched out into the open for the first time, intending to destroy their opponents once and for all. Meanwhile, leadership of Haoge’s army had devolved to his subordinate, the Manchu general Tao Kua. His army had been bled dry throughout the summer by incessant guerilla warfare, and now the Prince Haoge himself had been assassinated. Tao Kuo decided to simply cut his losses, and quitted Hubei forthwith, moving east into Anhui Province, where he linked up with Wu Sangui and the combined armies wintered in Zhengzhou. This left the Wu-Tang Clan ascendant - they had liberated Hubei. Celebrations broke out across the province, and a delegation of Wu-Tang leaders made the journey to Nanjing at the end of the year, intending to pay homage to the Hongguang Emperor and to incorporate their forces into his army. The summer and fall of 1645 mark the emergence of the Wu-Tang Clan into the open. No longer were they merely one in a long line of revolutionary bands - they had organized a mighty army and liberated a province. And there were still greater things to come . . .

NOTES
(1) This chronicle was written by a Wu-Tang scribe in or around the mid-1660s. While it is at times useful to the historian, at other times it is less of a history and more of a myth. Readers should adopt a skeptical attitude when perusing this tale.

(2) As per the events of the last update.

(3) This happened in OTL, and it also ignited a revolutionary fervor in OTL as well. Hair may seem a small thing to fight over, but for many people, this confirmed dormant fears that the Manchu really were evil barbarian invaders - and that calls for revolution!

*All hail the victorious Wu-Tang Clan! WU-TANG! WU-TANG! WU-TANG! Next up, another Southern Ming update, which should finally get us to the end of 1645 for everyone. After that, it’s Zhang Xianzhong’s invasion of Tibet. As always, thanks for reading.