Chapter 1289 - Destination
The shattered remnants of the Shandong Field Headquarters fled all the way into Laizhou territory before Sun Yuanhua's relief force finally met them and drove back the pursuing rebels.
Though Li Jiucheng's assault had carried irresistible momentum, the bitter cold and snow-choked roads ultimately proved decisive. The infantry could not keep pace, leaving only cavalry to continue the pursuit—and even they were soon exhausted, barely able to advance. When they crossed into Laizhou territory and encountered the blocking force led by Zhang Tao, they withdrew back toward Dengzhou.
The rebels had managed to rout the entire Shandong Field Headquarters, but they failed to inflict crippling damage. Though the government forces suffered heavy losses in baggage and supplies, their elite core remained largely intact. After retreating into Laizhou territory and reorganizing, they established camp beneath Laizhou's walls.
The city gates had long been sealed shut. Zhu Dadian, Xie Sanbin, and the other commanders urged the generals to calm the routed troops, eventually suppressing the clamor of soldiers demanding entry to the city.
After an emergency council of officials and gentry within the walls, Prefect Zhu and Magistrate Hong immediately summoned the ward leaders, ordering wealthy households to provide grain and poor households to man the kitchens. Vast quantities of mixed-grain pancakes and steamed cornbread were prepared and lowered down the walls in baskets. The gentry were once again called upon to make "voluntary donations."
The Laizhou gentry—already reeling from previous losses—were forced to dig deep a second time. When the rebels had besieged the city, such sacrifices had been made for survival; though it pained them, they gave willingly. Now, tens of thousands of government troops massed outside the walls, freshly defeated and lacking both clothing and provisions in the bitter cold. If they were not quickly placated with food, who knew whether the desperate soldiers might decide to sack Laizhou before moving on? So each gentleman, seething with resentment, once again pledged silver and grain.
The common people inevitably bore some of the burden as well. For a time, the city was in turmoil, the air filled with lamentations. Sun Yuanhua, Zhu Dadian, Xie Sanbin, and the other commanders pressed the officers of each battalion hard, eventually managing to bring the routed troops outside the walls under control.
Zhu Dadian and his entourage entered the city and took temporary lodging at Sun Yuanhua's Governor's Yamen—the Laizhou Prefectural School. He first received the generals of the Shandong Field Headquarters in batches, offering warm reassurances and urging them to restrain their men and prepare to meet the rebels. He then met with Sun Yuanhua's subordinate commanders, praising their "devotion to state affairs." Finally, he received Huang Ande.
Huang Ande was no official of the Imperial Court—merely a village brave leader. That Zhu Dadian received him at all was remarkable enough; to do so with such ceremony constituted exceptional honor. Naturally, this was not merely gratitude for saving his life, but also a calculated gesture to cultivate Manor Lord Lu.
These village braves of Manor Lord Lu were not merely courageous; their every movement displayed the discipline of veteran soldiers. They were certainly no ordinary militia. Small wonder he had held fast in Huang County with a single stockade and assisted Sun Yuanhua in defending Laizhou.
It seemed that crushing the rebels would require leveraging the power of local gentry and powerful landlords. Zhu Dadian chatted casually with Huang Ande for a time. Learning he descended from a hereditary military household in Shandong, the Governor praised him generously and awarded him fifty taels of silver.
After everything was properly arranged, Zhu Dadian sat alone in the signing room, still numb with shock. He was by no means a timid man who feared death, but such an overnight reversal of fortune—from the brink of victory to utter rout—was almost more than he could bear. He had poured everything into this siege of Dengzhou. Simply urging the various suppression armies to advance had consumed endless effort. After finally reaching Dengzhou's walls, maintaining morale and discipline had drained him to the point of physical and mental exhaustion. And then, a single slip in the rear guard had brought instant and total collapse.
Thinking of the tens of thousands of troops encamped outside the city gave him no comfort. Though temporarily settled, they had just suffered a devastating defeat. Grain and pay would be difficult to sustain. As time dragged on, unrest would become impossible to suppress. Moreover, many Liaodong men served in the army. If the rebels succeeded in "seducing" them... The thought left Zhu Dadian sleepless and without appetite. He sighed repeatedly, pacing the room.
News of the broken siege set off a fresh storm of mutual attacks at court. Every faction seized upon the disaster to score points against rivals, flooding Chongzhen's desk with impeachment memorials.
"All empty rhetoric—not a word of substance!" He irritably hurled aside a memorial impeaching Xie Sanbin and rose to his feet. The eunuchs and palace maids nearby raised their eyes ever so slightly. Seeing that he had no intention of leaving, nor any apparent desire for tea, they quickly lowered their gazes and stood in silence, not daring to breathe loudly.
He had expected Dengzhou to fall before year's end. Instead, Zhu Dadian had failed on the very threshold of success, allowing the rebels to burn his grain depots and shatter the siege in a single stroke. An army of thirty thousand—including the Guan-Ning battalions renowned throughout the empire as the Iron Cavalry that the court spent fortunes to maintain—had been routed beneath Dengzhou's walls and sent fleeing all the way to Laizhou.
Now tens of thousands of soldiers were gathered at Laizhou, lacking both grain and supplies, in the dead of winter. If the situation was mishandled, another mutiny might well ignite.
Chongzhen heaved a deep sigh. Mutiny, always mutiny. In recent years, the government troops rarely brought him good news when they fought—only more mutinies. When his father had lived, though rarely attending court, such incidents had been rare. When his elder brother sat on the throne, everything had been manipulated by the eunuch Wei Zhongxian, and mutinies occurred only occasionally.
Since his own ascension more than five years ago, mutinies, floods, and droughts had been constant companions. Was it that his virtue was insufficient? Or more terribly still—was the dynastic fortune of the Great Ming running dry?
The thought made him shudder, and he silently cursed himself for entertaining such nonsense.
The grain transshipped to Qingzhou had been largely destroyed and would have to be reorganized—the very thought made his heart ache. Though grain was tight, substantial reserves still existed in the government granaries of Tongzhou and Jiangnan. But the staggering transport costs left him stunned every time he reviewed them.
He recalled Zhu Dadian's recent report of floods across the entirety of Shandong Province—from the interior to the coast, every prefecture and county afflicted. Zhangqiu, Xincheng, Qixia, Jinxiang, and other regions had suffered repeated disasters, prompting requests for tax exemptions and relief. To rescue the Shandong Field Headquarters, not only could the province's own grain not be relied upon, but additional supplies would have to be allocated for civilian relief...
Imagining the pained expression the Minister of Revenue would present only deepened his agitation.
No money, no soldiers, no grain—and precious few capable men. Though officials abounded, few could accomplish anything. Chongzhen had originally intended to strip Sun Yuanhua of his position and erase his status once Dengzhou fell. But in the current situation, driving Sun Yuanhua away might only make things harder to manage. Gao Qiqian's secret memorial had mentioned that the defeat at Dengzhou had been salvaged only because Sun Yuanhua led his forces forward in time to prevent complete annihilation. Even Zhu Dadian himself had been saved by Sun Yuanhua's subordinates.
Both Zhu Dadian's and Xie Sanbin's memorials also mentioned Sun Yuanhua's support. It seemed this man, at least, worked with sincere dedication.
And yet the old wretch remains utterly hateful! Chongzhen fumed inwardly. Had Sun Yuanhua not mishandled things at the outset, how could Dengzhou have deteriorated to this extent?
This thought only intensified his resentment of Zhu Dadian for "failing the Emperor's grace." If not for that man's incompetence, how could he be forced to show such forbearance toward Sun Yuanhua?
On his desk lay several memorials impeaching Zhu Dadian for "corruption" and Sun Yuanhua for "colluding with Liaodong men." Each was written with vivid conviction. His impulse was to issue an immediate decree stripping them of their posts and ordering their arrest and interrogation in the capital. But the current situation made changing commanders on the eve of battle inadvisable.
For now, the priority was transporting grain and pay to Laizhou as quickly as possible to stabilize the army and prevent further unrest. Marshaling his resolve, he returned to his desk.
Though the rebels had won a great victory and captured mountains of abandoned baggage, the euphoria of triumph soon faded. Li Jiucheng, Kong Youde, and the others found that their strategic position remained fundamentally unchanged. The government encirclement had been broken temporarily, but the enemy's main force still existed. The rebels were merely delaying their inevitable end.
The commanders deliberated. They could either capitalize on their victory—while morale was high and the government army was still reeling from defeat and short on supplies—and march the entire army to attack. If they could inflict a crushing blow on the government forces, the court's attitude might soften. Or they could raise sails and flee to sea, escaping to Dongjiang.
The first option offered some chance of success. But the distance to Laizhou was hundreds of li. The roads were smothered in ice and snow; the rebels, too, were short of grain and lacked adequate winter clothing. Marching under such conditions to fight beneath Laizhou's walls would exact a terrible toll in men lost to freezing, starvation, and exhaustion. Even if they barely reached the city, engaging the government army would likely prove impossible.
The second option—fleeing by sea—at least promised survival. They possessed hundreds of ships from the original Dengzhou Navy and the Tianjin Navy they had captured earlier, as well as vessels brought by defectors from Dongjiang Town. Though they could not transport everyone, the principal commanders and most of their elite troops could certainly escape.
Once they cleared Dengzhou, the many islands of Bohai Bay offered potential refuge. They could link up with the Dongjiang veterans scattered across those islands. The difficulty was that life at sea meant no way to raise grain and pay. Without provisions, this isolated army would inevitably collapse from within.
At that point, the only path to survival would be surrendering to the Tartars.
But this choice was nearly intolerable. Most of them had fled to Dongjiang precisely because they could not endure Manchu oppression. They harbored deep-seated hatred for the Tartars. They would not take this road unless driven to utter desperation.
"If it truly comes to that, we go to Joseon!" Li Jiucheng declared. "The Joseon Dynasty is weak, their military poorly equipped. Let us sail to Joseon and seize a piece of land. Rally the Dongjiang brothers. Perhaps we can forge a new destiny!"
"That may be our only option." Kong Youde agreed outwardly, though he doubted Li Jiucheng's plan would succeed. Joseon was weak, true, but it was still a nation. In recent years, to guard against both the Tartars and the possibility of Dongjiang Town seizing their nest, they had deployed substantial forces along the Yalu River. Once the rebels put to sea, they would have no way to conscript additional manpower. Though the various Dongjiang units had grievances with the current Commander-in-Chief Huang Long—having fought and killed each other more than once—the conflicts among them were sharp and complex. Not all would necessarily follow orders.
They would have to rely solely on their own core troops to confront any opposition. Every death would mean one fewer soldier with no possibility of replacement. Moreover, the court would inevitably cooperate with Joseon to mount a coordinated suppression...
Nevertheless, the Bohai Sea froze extensively in winter. Going to sea now risked having the fleet trapped in floating ice. They could only continue holding Dengzhou, waiting at least until early spring when the ice melted before making any move.