Show Notes
The God-Worshippers of Thistle Mountain, under the dual leadership of Hong Xiuquan and Feng Yunshan, had gone from being a quirky, backwater oddity... to, by 1847, a real local headache. When they get bold enough to deface a local temple, the law finally takes action to end their machinations. Yet they emerge from this early crucible unbroken... harder, better, faster, stronger... and even weirder than they went in.
Time Period Covered:1847–1849
Major Historical Figures:Hong Xiuquan, prophet and Heavenly King [1814–1864]Feng Yunshan, chief evangelist and architect of the God-Worshipping Society [1815–1852]Wang Zuoxin, local licentiate and militia leader [fl. 1847]Lu Liu, God-Worshipper [d. 1848]Yang Xiuqing, Eastern King, Voice of God the Father [d. 1856]Xiao Chaogui, Western King, Voice of Jesus Christ [d. 1852]Qiying, Governor-General of Guangdong and Guangxi [1787–1858]
Major Sources Cited:Hamberg, Theodore. The Visions of Hung-Siu-tshuen and the Origin of the Kwang-si InsurrectionKuhn, Philip A. "Ch. 6, The Taiping Rebellion" in The Cambridge History of China, Vol. 10Platt, Stephen R. Autumn in the Heavenly KingdomSpence, Jonathan D. God's Chinese Son: The Taiping Heavenly Kingdom of Hong Xiuquan Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices
More from The History of China
It’s one thing to go invading the resting places of the dead and reaping the well-deserved consequences of your own bad choices. But it’s a different kind of horror entirely when you don’t even need a shovel and the dead are perfectly capable of getting up all on their own. Hopping corpses, flying corpses, corpses sneaking out for a midnight rendezvous, and a few bodies that are still technically alive, but behaving very, very badly. So keep a broom handy... and a couple of bells... just in case. Because tonight, it turns out rigor mortis is... more of a suggestion...
The leaves are blood-red once again, the coffee’s back to hot, and somewhere in old China, the dead begin to stir restlessly. Grave robbers, well-diggers, strange hobbyists... plenty of folks out there far too willing to go sticking a spade into dirt it doesn't belong. And, of course, consequences ensue...
In the summer of 1861, the strangest siege of the war took shape on the banks of the Yangtze. As Heaven itself sent forth cosmic signs – of victory or disaster, no one could be quite sure – an imperial army had a rebel city completely surrounded.Only for a different rebel army to surround that imperial ringing army.But they were, all of them, deceived... for somewhere out past the hills, another ring was made...
By the autumn of 1860, the Qing Dynasty had run out of armies to lose. What was left of its war was being run out of a mountain valley in southern Anhui by a half-blind scholar-official who was, at that very moment, politely refusing a direct order from his emperor.
For two days in mid-October, ash fell like snow atop Beijing. All that remained of one of the greatest cultural storehouses in all of human history, put to the torch as an extremely personalized punishment... after everything not nailed down inside it had already been looted off, of course.