das
Regeneration In Process
I already said that I will revive ITNES. As for the stats, what do you have in mind anyway? What rules, etc?
Alternate History Thread II...
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Thlayli
Le Pétit Prince
Something similar to Azale's previous NES, (Crucible of Nations), in fact you might be able to reconvert some of those old stats for this NES, several of the nations are quite similar.
That NES dying was a real shame, but I imagine that this one will play in the same way.
That NES dying was a real shame, but I imagine that this one will play in the same way.
das
Regeneration In Process
Read Dachs' installment. Very good work; I like the way you wrote about the fall of Venice, its always pretty hard to describe what ingenious tactics are used against such powerful fortresses as I have learned from my own experience time and again. Generally like your descriptions of the campaigns themselves, the Italian war of maneuvers - way better then most of my war descriptions, but that is to be expected from one of our best military commanders.
So how exactly was Burgundy partitioned? I rather doubt, btw, that peace between France and the HRE will last for long; and Burgundy seems to be a pretty natural contested region, this world's equivalent of Lorraine-Alsace, as both sides have both the claims on it and good reasons to seek its annexation.
Whither Galicia?
So how exactly was Burgundy partitioned? I rather doubt, btw, that peace between France and the HRE will last for long; and Burgundy seems to be a pretty natural contested region, this world's equivalent of Lorraine-Alsace, as both sides have both the claims on it and good reasons to seek its annexation.
Whither Galicia?
das
Regeneration In Process
Or so you think.
Hmm? The geopolitical situation everywhere is very different.
In any case, I think there still is a need to work out a few things, most importantly the religious issue. IMHO it would be best to keep the Celtic Rite to Ireland and Brittany, but have the rest at least nominally under Catholic control; however, the Catholic Church would be quite decentralized. The arrangement I have in mind is something similar to Gallicanism - for the Norse Empire, at least.
Oh, and obviously the Orthodox Church will retain power in the Byzantine Empire. Not sure about Galicia (the southwestern Russian country).
Thanks. I have another althist in the works that I am really sinking my teeth into, with a heavily military PoD that I like quite a bit. None of that bias is really there, either. (HINT: No Byzantines!das said:
)In all likelihood, it probably won't. The HRE laid claim to most of it, and the French were pissed off that they only got token territories in the extreme west, but were unable to do anything about it before 1100 because King Philip was organizing his new territory that he'd gotten from Bohemund's death in the west, like Aquitaine and Anjou.das said:
I meant the Carpathians around Transylvania. Sorry.das said:
This is it.
A “quick war” was all they needed, and a fairly quick war – by the standards of the day – they got. For decades, the military theorists of Europe had known that a great clash was going to come; all that remained was to figure out how it would happen and how it would end. Though scant protests had been made about the quality of weapons and the siege technology that existed, that any war would degenerate into a bogged-down struggle of trench lines and fortresses, where the only real progress would be made in naval battles, both sides were driven by nationalistic spirit and fervor, and the inherent belief of the offensive’s superiority. Both sides’ governments had been largely co-opted by their militaries, which along with their citizens urged a clash with the enemy, not only to safeguard their interests, but (in one case) to protect an ally from the depredations of a vast multinational empire.
The First Punic War [1] had officially begun. (What, you thought I was talking about something else? Another “First” war, perhaps?)
It all started with the Mamertines, a bunch of brigands and mercenaries, who, after working for the Syracusans for a while to fight Carthage, took the city of Messana as their reward. For twenty years, the Syracusans had attempted to dislodge their erstwhile allies, but after initial victories could not force them out of the tiny bastion that they had managed to take with ease. With news of renewed Syracusan military buildup, the Romans, who didn’t want anyone to get too close to the Italian mainland, their purview, sent an army to assist the Mamertines and signed an alliance. 264 BC saw the initial clash of Roman and Sicel armies, which ended in some success for the Romans. Carthage and Syracuse, somewhat terrified of Rome’s growing power and disruption of the Sicilian balance of power, were forced into an alliance. More Roman success induced the Syracusans to switch sides. The war was on.
In 262, Rome began another critical operation. Carthage had seized the fortress of Agrigentum (Greek Acragas) on the southern shore of Sicily, and was supplying their thrust, obviously directed against the Syracusan allies, through the major base at Heraclea Minoa not far from the fort. The two Roman consuls with their four legions and allied troops – a contingent of 40,000 men – marched to besiege Agrigentum with the aim of preventing the Punic Army from advancing on their allies. Consul Lucius Postumius Megellus and his colleague, Quintus Mamilius Vitulus set up shop outside of the city and began a siege. A cry for help went out, and assistance quickly summoned in the form of an army under one Hanno, who came with 50,000 men, 6,000 cavalry, and 60 war elephants – a truly formidable force. The Romans were soon besieged themselves and erected walls of contravallation to keep their rears safe.
Megellus needed supplies from Syracuse, but they wouldn’t be able to get through Hanno’s blockade. He and his fellow consul drew up their troops and began to offer battle, but the Carthaginians declined until Hannibal Gisco, the commander of the Agrigentum garrison, sent word via smoke signals that the situation inside Agrigentum was growing desperate. Reluctantly, the Carthaginians accepted battle. Hanno drew his men up in the traditional two Punic lines and the Romans used their triplex acies formation of three lines. Most of the Carthaginian elephants were in the second line, and when the battle was joined, the missiles from the Roman troops drove them into a wild frenzy, stampeding throughout the Punic front, which was broken at several critical points. The Romans surged through and continued to attack the Carthaginians, who were hounded mercilessly as they fled the field. The defeat turned into a rout, and some 15,000 Carthaginian troops were slain, with about the same number of prisoners for the Romans, who also secured about 20 of the elephants. It was a major victory for the Romans, sullied only by the escape of Hannibal Gisco and his garrison. But without it, the fortress was open to the Romans, who entered and garrisoned Agrigentum.
The next years indeed were full of something of a slow advance by the Romans, who maintained a constant advance against the Carthaginians, who by 257 were confined to such fortresses as Eryx, Drepana, Lilybaeum, and Panormus on the western coast. When Panormus fell late that year, the Carthaginians, realizing that their control of even far western Sicily was in doubt, boosted the troop strength in Sicily to an aggregate 60,000 soldiers, including one field army, led by Hannibal Gisco. With this formidable force in their way, Rome couldn’t secure Sicily in its entirety. However, one bright spark, the consul Marcus Regulus, proposed a bold blow: he and an army of about 20,000 legionaries – his full consular army – would sail to Africa, land at Tunes, and besiege Carthage itself. When met with arguments that Carthage would be able to withstand 20,000 men, Regulus is said to have smiled and said, “Audentes fortuna iuvat.”
Fortune favored the bold indeed. With virtually the entire Punic army away in Sicily, Regulus, after a sharp fleet battle at Cape Ecnomus, landed at Tunes and advanced towards Carthage. Desperately, citizens of the city were conscripted, and even some of the poor were given armor and weapons and forced to serve in the army hastily cobbled together by Bostar to block Regulus’ path. The Carthaginians, knowing that they still had far fewer numbers than the Romans, encamped on a hilltop and waited out the night, ready for battle the next day. The Romans were not so patient. Early in the morning, Regulus’ men encircled the hilltop, then made the few enemy elephants stampede throughout the camp. In the confusion, the well-organized legionaries cut through the enemy camp. Only a few hundred Carthaginians escaped back to the city with the news.
In Carthage itself, panic reigned. Refugees began to flood into the city, fleeing from the victorious Roman army that soon made its camp beneath the Punic walls. Many Numidian slaves, seeing a chance for freedom, revolted and began to riot throughout the city; only with the few troops left to man the walls were they put down. Both Shofets were initially against surrendering to Rome and facing the consequences of that surrender, but eventually their populace made them turn around. With bated breath and much trepidation, an embassy was sent to Regulus.
The Romans, victorious, were inclined to be somewhat magnanimous. They had never faced a nation so large before, and the degree of Punic defeat was not enough to warrant a full and complete absorption into Rome itself. Regulus was initially on the side of being rather harsh on the Carthaginians, but, farsighted, he saw that they had been defeated and Rome’s supremacy had been shown. Carthage was still strong and capable of putting up a good fight yet, but there was no real need. After all, the war had lasted for eight years, and Rome had beaten Carthage on both land and sea, on Sicily and in front of the capital itself. Besides, Regulus reasoned, his chance to end the war would be fleeting. His consular term was almost up, and with that would go his power to end the war and gain glory. His terms were rather simple. Including peace and an alliance between Carthage and Rome, Carthage would relinquish its Sicilian cities and all claims thereto (it would become Rome’s first province, overseas or otherwise); Corsica and Sardinia would stay Punic. 100 war elephants would be given to Rome, and a relatively small indemnity would be paid. Considering what they had already lost, the consul reasoned, this would be like getting a reprieve.
Indeed, when the terms were shown to the Shofets, they were inclined to accept. Most people in the city were anxious to get home to their farms, and in the close quarters, plague was beginning to break out among the lower classes, like the Libyans. Despite a brief episode in which a Spartan mercenary, one Xanthippus, beseeched the Punic leaders to allow him to lead an army against Rome, the populace seemed dead set against continuing the war with so little success. Regulus was sent a message of agreement, and by the end of the year, Punic troops were back in Carthage and Carthaginian life was already getting back to normal. As for Regulus, a two-time consul, he was showered with glory. An invasion of Africa and an end to a heretofore slow war in only a few months, with both land and sea victories to go with it: he was hailed as one of the greatest generals in Roman history.
Rome, wishing to concentrate elsewhere to make more territorial gains, soon ran into a stumbling block. The Kingdom of Macedon, under its able ruler King Antigonus Gonatas, was beginning to extend control over Epirus and Illyria with armies fresh from victories in the Chremonidean War against Egypt, Sparta, and Athens. Sensing that Rome wanted Illyria for her own growing empire, Antigonus decided to get there first. It was presented in Rome by the orator and general Catulus as a blatant attempt to gain a base to strike at Italy itself. Macedon needed to be dealt with. Such minor, trivial things like the elimination of piracy in the Adriatic due to the loss of the pirates’ base to Antigonus, who on news of the deliberations in Rome stepped up his campaign, were unnoticed by the Roman populace, who were determined to use their newfound overseas power in humbling another opponent. Accordingly, a fleet and 20,000 legionaries – though only 500 cavalry and no elephants – were dispatched under one M. Aemilius Paullus in 253 to Salonae and Epidamnus (or Dyrrachium) to settle the Macedonians’ hash.
Antigonus, realizing that defeat here would bring about the large-scale revolt of his Hellenic domains (which Ptolemy II Philadelphus, his longtime enemy and rival, would doubtless use as an excuse to attack the Aegean again), took command of the field army personally. He led about 30,000 phalangites and 5,000 cavalry to Epidamnus, intent on a confrontation. Paullus’ two legions and alae landed at the city, ready for a blockade and siege, a practice with which they had long been familiar as a result of the Punic war. Antigonus’ army, which the King was loathe to risk on uneven ground, where the phalanx wouldn’t be as powerful, was drawn up along the Putamnus River, with one flank resting on the river to allow the King to concentrate his cavalry on his other – right – wing. His phalangite infantry were in a typical right-echeloned formation, to make maximum use of the phalanx’s right-wing superiority. Paullus did much the same with his cavalry, concentrating it on his left (he had only 500 of low quality compared with Antigonus’ excellent lancers), with his legionaries in the triplex acies formation of three lines that had proven so effective against the Carthaginians at the battle of Agrigentum.
The Battle of the Putamnus River opened with a Macedonian cavalry charge on their right flank, charging the Romans. Greek lancers came into contact with the Italian cavalry and easily drove the less experienced enemy off the field. Antigonus’ eager horsemen kept up the chase, forcing the equites to flee back to the fleet at Epidamnus. Meanwhile, the phalanx and legion came into contact. The frightful sight of the massed pikes and their sheer number at first put the Romans to pause, but eventually the skilled legionary infantry moved towards them with confidence, attempting to infiltrate the phalanx and cut it to pieces. That attempt was an abysmal failure. On a hillside or other broken ground, the Romans would be able to exploit the irregularities in the phalanx, the openings that would allow them to slip past the pikes and begin to cut the enemy apart. Here, on flat ground, the phalanx was packed tightly, letting nothing through. The weight of 30,000 phalangites and their irresistible advance began to drive the Roman legionaries to pieces. The hastati, the youngest and most energetic, were forced to retreat through the openings in the skilled principes – what was left of them, that is. Unable to penetrate the phalanx and drive it off the field, the Romans’ heretofore-unbeatable legions came to pieces and began to flee. The retreat of the first two lines and the velites, who had briefly engaged in a missile exchange with the Hellenic peltasts, was covered by the triarii, who prevented the entire thing from turning into a rout. Antigonus soon returned with the cavalry and pursued the Roman infantry as evening set in. The Romans lost 7,000 skilled veterans of the Punic Wars, and the rest crowded back to the fleet a few miles distant in Epidamnus, ready to flee.
A quick appraisal of the first major clash between Roman and Hellenistic armies since Pyrrhus of a few decades back will note the care with which Antigonus chose his ground. That, more than anything else, decided the issue. The phalanx, impossible to oppose on open ground, was able to make mincemeat of the Roman legions, which would have defeated it anywhere else. Roman cavalry was also shown to be deficient, as were much of the mounted units of the Mediterranean – at least in comparison to that of Macedon, Seleucia, and Egypt. This is a reflection more on the stupidity of the Roman commander than anything else. Antigonus had been on campaign with his legendary father, Demetrius Poliorcetes, and knew what to do and what not to do with a phalanx. Paullus, in contrast, believed that his legions were invincible after the battles of Agrigentum and Adys, and after the flight of Pyrrhus of Epirus.
Rome’s war, which had been called a “police action” by many at home in the res publica, had turned into an abysmal failure. An entire consular army had been defeated and forced back to their fleet. Antigonus, claiming the field, sent emissaries to Paullus, offering terms. The consul flatly refused these, which would have only entailed a surrender of claims to the Illyrian coastline and Epirus. Angered at his summary dismissal, the King led his army down to the shoreline and forced the Romans to complete their evacuation in ignominy. The Hellenes, who had been denounced by the Romans as “effeminate” and “weak”, now held the field victorious. Antigonus, expecting no trouble for at least the end of the campaigning season, returned to Pella to bask in his victory.
The Romans were incensed at this failure to impose their will. This obvious showing of Roman weakness would not exactly keep the Carthaginians on their side. Romans may not have liked to deal as the Hellenistic rulers did, but she did understand how the world worked. Imperium Puni would try to flex her muscles and perhaps break free of the humiliating alliance and pact with Rome. Already voices in Carthage were crying out for the restoration of Sicily and an invasion of Italy itself. Only with military force and mercenaries from Libya and Greece did the Shofets put down the angry crowds. Throughout Greece, the King was held in some respect, although Greek orators like Aratus of Sicyon (who had to flee that city because of a threat on his life by the ruler, Nicocles) declared that it was a victory over mere Italian provincials, descended from the Trojans, no less. Ptolemy Philadelphus, unable to get any advantage from this recent clash, sulked in Alexandria and continued to gather forces. On the other hand, Antiochus II Theos of the Seleucids, having some trouble with a rebel satrap named Diodotus in Bactria, came to Antigonus to reaffirm their alliance and to borrow some mercenaries, which Antigonus lent as a result of their perceived lack of necessity. With these troops, veterans of the Chremonidean war and the battle of the Putamnus, Diodotus was easily defeated and Bactria was returned, although seething, to Seleucid control.
Carthage, though, was persuaded to remain at Rome’s side as the Romans gathered another army for the 252 campaign and Paullus retired in shame to a Campanian villa. Antigonus, realizing that Rome would be sending even more troops, endeavored to prevent them from even getting there. A Macedonian fleet, under Navarchos Neoptolemos, numbering 200 vessels, including the King’s personal “eight” [2] and many “fives” and “fours”, set out from Thessalonika early that spring and gathered more ships from Athens and Corinth. By the time it took up station off Epidamnus, the fleet had grown to 270 ships, a formidable armada. Against this, the Romans had amassed a fleet, commanded by Regulus, victor of Cape Ecnomus and Adys, of 150 “fives”, a hundred “fours” and about fifty “threes”, on which was mounted an entire consular army of 20,000 men, 1,000 cavalry, and even 20 war elephants. Regulus’ colleague, G. Aurelius Cotta, had another 20,000 legionaries and a smaller fleet of 200 vessels, massing at Tarentum and Metapontum in the south of Italy. It was to be a terrific clash.
Indeed, the naval Battle of Nymphaeum, just north of Epidamnus, was a titanic bout between two highly skilled opponents. The Macedonians, since the time of Philip II, had had a long and glorious naval tradition in the Aegean and eastern Mediterranean, and a Macedonian – Nearchus – had even sailed in the Persian Gulf. Rome hadn’t had such a long naval tradition, but had defeated one of the two premier Mediterranean navies in the First Punic War, and was not yet off that naval high, if they ever would be. Regulus was a veteran admiral, having won the Battle of Cape Ecnomus against the Carthaginians in 256. He had the advantage of numbers on his side, too. The Romans, though, were not as practiced in the hallowed and still-effective Greek naval maneuvers, the diekplous and the periplous. Neoptolemus’ fleet was well trained in those skills, though.
Both sides formed into three units, two wings and a center each. The Romans closed with the Macedonians, who on the wings drove straight through the Roman formation and around, attacking towards the Roman rear. Regulus in the center, though, forced the Macedonians to engage in a struggle of marines. In this area, something of a land battle on water, the well practiced Roman marines easily crushed the Macedonian ones, in an engagement of gladius against sarissa where there was no phalanx to back up the phalangites who found themselves pitted against Roman legionaries. The center was largely lost to the Romans. Neoptolemus attempted to switch his main effort to the wings, but here too, the Romans turned what had been a battle of maneuver into a slog of marine versus marine, one that they could easily win. His fleet shattered, the Macedonian admiral limped south. Regulus continued to the beach, where his army was landed and he prepared to march on Epidamnus.
Antigonus had not been prepared for this rapid invasion and assault, expecting the navy to hold off Regulus for at least a few weeks more. As it was, his army was still massing in Macedonia and Thessaly, widely spread out and highly vulnerable. He sped up the process as best he, as the King, could, and with an army of decreased size – only 20,000 men and 5,000 cavalry – he set off into the Pindus mountains, intent on confining any Roman gains in his absence and ready to defeat each Roman army in detail separately. Upon his arrival at Kerax, not far from the Romans at Epidamnus, Antigonus received word that the city had fallen and that Cotta’s fleet was even now landing at Apollonia further down the coast. Deciding to take care of the weaker threat first, Antigonus and his men marched south to hit Cotta during his siege of Apollonia. With little intelligence on the King’s movements, Regulus unknowingly passed up an excellent opportunity for a pincer maneuver and marched inland, towards Pella, as soon as his supply line was firmly established.
Cotta, on word of Antigonus’ approach, broke the siege and marched to meet him. The two armies gathered on either side of the Apsus River at Antipatria, named after the former regent of the Alexandrine Empire. In a wily move, Antigonus snuck across the river under cover of darkness and was able to group his army south of Cotta’s by daybreak. In battle he would try to smash the Romans against the river. Deploying in his usual echeloned formation with cavalry on both wings, the Macedonian waited for the Romans to break camp before he struck. He had once again chosen his ground fairly well, putting himself in a situation to charge downhill and force the Romans into a bend in the river. As Cotta desperately tried to get his army to form up and march against the enemy in full formation, Antigonus launched his cavalry at the enemy, followed up closely by his phalanx. He caught the Romans in disarray, trying to deploy, and routed them with only his cavalry. Smashing them against the river, the Macedonians claimed 3,000 Roman dead in the initial charge and about 5,000 during the mop-up by the phalanx and cavalry. It was another crushing victory. Fortunately for himself, Cotta committed suicide after reaching the north bank of the river. The remnants of his army, numbering about 10,000 after prisoners and casualties, was regrouped under a tribune and marched north, reaching Regulus after a week of searching.
Antigonus was now in an unenviable position. He was still able to send reinforcements, and it was possible to cut Regulus off from his supply base, but Pella, his capital, was now virtually exposed, with only a token force of 15,000 there, commanded by his son, Demetrius II. If Regulus headed for his capital and occupied or destroyed it, he would stand to lose much of southern Greece to rebellions and revolts by the liberty-loving southerners. With a larger army from reinforcement, numbering about 35,000 infantry and 7,000 cavalry, along with 10 war elephants he pilfered from Cotta’s supply base outside Apollonia, the Macedonian King marched inland to meet Regulus. He needn’t have worried. With 30,000 legionaries, 1,200 cavalry, and 20 elephants, Regulus moved back across the Pindus and reached Parthinia, not far from Epidamnus, at about the same time as King Antigonus.
Regulus, realizing that his deficiency in cavalry would probably be a problem, added a few maniples of legionaries to the cavalry, forcing the cav to travel more slowly but giving it more striking power. He decided that since the phalanx could not be defeat frontally, he’d have to hold them off by skirmishing and hope for success on the flanks. Antigonus continued his formulaic formation of the echeloned phalanx with peltasts deployed in a thin line in front, and cavalry on either wing, believing that the Romans, having failed to learn from the battle of the Putamnus, wouldn’t learn any lessons from Cotta’s defeat at Antipatria.
Initial skirmishing along the front was eventually broken off by Antigonus, who realized that his peltasts and psiloi [3] were outclassed by the Roman velites and heavy infantry, who also had spears, or pila. Unleashing his heavy cavalry in an attempt to seek decision on the flanks, he ran into Regulus’ specially augmented wing units. What had originally been expected to be a rout of the Roman cavalry to get round behind the center turned into a prolonged, slogging battle into which Antigonus decided to commit his elephants. Regulus reciprocated with his velites, who were able to kill several of the beasts and drive them back on Antigonus’ phalanx, which was still trying to catch the elusive Roman legions. Antigonus, refusing to accept failure, managed to eliminate most of his remaining elephants and committed more troops to the flank battle, until evening, when his tired phalanx was unable to continue in pursuit of the legionaries in the center and the flank action was tiring out even more of his men. Discouraged, the King ordered a withdrawal, which was uncontested by Regulus, who too had suffered high casualties in the battle.
The battle at Parthinia hadn’t really decided anything. By using the legions as they weren’t supposed to be used, Regulus had scored a tactical and strategic victory by forcing Antigonus to withdraw behind the Pindus. Epirus was now essentially under Roman control. However, the troops he had were not enough to hold the region effectively after his losses at Parthinia in what had basically been a deadly game of chicken with Antigonus on the flanks (fortunately for the Romans, the King had blinked before Regulus did), and his fleet was still weak after the naval battle at Nymphaeum. Realizing any further assault on his position in Epirus would probably succeed, Regulus sent envoys to Macedon, asking for peace and trying to bluff Antigonus into not attacking him. For Antigonus’ part, he, as a wily diplomat, skilled in manipulating the Greek ministates against each other, saw through the Romans’ transparent attempt to avoid a battle but also knew that peace or no peace, Ptolemy would be trying for southern Greece and the Aegean again at this sign of apparent weakness. In order to forestall this, he had to get south with an army and crush any signs of revolt and Egyptians. That, and he believed that Rome wouldn’t try to expand any further into Greece. It was just too untenable. Besides, the Greeks liked their liberty. He knew that all too well. The Romans didn’t seem able to hold areas effectively. The King agreed to peace with Rome controlling Epirus and Illyria and then moved south to forestall revolt.
After the critical years of the 260s and 250s, the Mediterranean world began to calm down a bit and settle into a repetitive pattern of events. Antigonus managed to fend off Ptolemy’s clumsy attempts at inciting rebellion in Greece, and on his death at age 82 in 237 was able to bequeath a powerful kingdom to his son, Demetrius II. Rome, for her part, began to campaign more and more against the Gauls in northern Italy, and had established several colonies on the Po, the chief one Placentia, by 220. Carthage, spearheaded by the Gisco family, expanded into first the east and Libya, taking advantage of Egyptian preoccupations in Syria and Greece to take over Cyrenaica. Eventually, the Giscos and another family, the Barcas, began to fight over the top spots in Punic government, causing a brief civil war, called the “Mercenary War” by some due to the heavy use of these mercs by the Giscos, who were defeated by Hamilcar Barca and his sons Hannibal, Hasdrubal, and Mago. Under Barcid rule in the 230s and 220s, Carthage began to aggressively expand into Iberia, subduing Celtic tribes and occupying Baetica and southern Lusitania, as well as much of what the Romans called “Tarraconensis”. Rome, meddling with northeastern Iberian politics, began to lock horns with Carthage in the neighborhood of the Ebro River, and by 220 both nations began to prepare for war, which seemed inevitable.
Seleucia managed several victories against the Attalid kings of Pergamum during this period, seizing much of the eastern Aegean coast as Macedon began to extend control over Thrace and Bithynia. The kingdom of Pontus stayed in control in northern Anatolia, but virtually all of the remainder was Seleucid. The Seleucids were defeated several times by the Egyptians in contests for Coele Syria and Palestine, but gave as good as they got, so by 220 Egypt controlled southern Phoenicia and the coastal regions of Palestine, as well as the south of that area including Jerusalem, and the Seleucids had…well, everything north of that. Seleucid control over Bactria was solidified during the late 250s but was weakened by the revolt of a Parthian prince named Arsaces. Seleucus II, on his ascension in 249, was forced to fight hard to retain control of Parthia. Throughout the 240s the Arsacids carried on a civil war, and during this time the Egyptians gained some land in Syria, but the Seleucids managed to bring the Parthians to battle and defeat them decisively at Harmosia. With the east briefly secured, Seleucus marched back into Syria and after initial defeats at the hands of Ptolemy III (in other words, he had his rear handed to him on a silver platter) around Damascus, the Seleucids began to exercise their superior resources and through sheer numbers defeated the Egyptians outside of Jerusalem, culminating in the surprise death of the Pharaoh Ptolemy III Euergetes in a nighttime cavalry skirmish. Seleucid troubles were magnified by the permanent loss of Bactria and constant low-level warfare with the Parthians in Persis. By 220 the Seleucid domains, though diminished since the time of Seleucus Nicator, were home to the most powerful single state in the eastern Mediterranean.
Ptolemaic Egypt went through a decline during this period, losing its territories in Asia Minor to the Seleucids and – after a brief revival during the 240s during the time of Seleucid problems and the reign of Ptolemy III – losing part of Syria and Palestine as well as Cyrenaica. A diminished Egypt under Ptolemy IV Philopator tried to maintain its shaky control over its territory, and after several revolts in the 230s and early 220s the Greek aristocracy and ruling class began to slowly identify itself more as “Egyptian”, although no actual ethnic Egyptians ascended to high civil or military office.
A “quick war” was all they needed, and a fairly quick war – by the standards of the day – they got. For decades, the military theorists of Europe had known that a great clash was going to come; all that remained was to figure out how it would happen and how it would end. Though scant protests had been made about the quality of weapons and the siege technology that existed, that any war would degenerate into a bogged-down struggle of trench lines and fortresses, where the only real progress would be made in naval battles, both sides were driven by nationalistic spirit and fervor, and the inherent belief of the offensive’s superiority. Both sides’ governments had been largely co-opted by their militaries, which along with their citizens urged a clash with the enemy, not only to safeguard their interests, but (in one case) to protect an ally from the depredations of a vast multinational empire.
The First Punic War [1] had officially begun. (What, you thought I was talking about something else? Another “First” war, perhaps?)
It all started with the Mamertines, a bunch of brigands and mercenaries, who, after working for the Syracusans for a while to fight Carthage, took the city of Messana as their reward. For twenty years, the Syracusans had attempted to dislodge their erstwhile allies, but after initial victories could not force them out of the tiny bastion that they had managed to take with ease. With news of renewed Syracusan military buildup, the Romans, who didn’t want anyone to get too close to the Italian mainland, their purview, sent an army to assist the Mamertines and signed an alliance. 264 BC saw the initial clash of Roman and Sicel armies, which ended in some success for the Romans. Carthage and Syracuse, somewhat terrified of Rome’s growing power and disruption of the Sicilian balance of power, were forced into an alliance. More Roman success induced the Syracusans to switch sides. The war was on.
In 262, Rome began another critical operation. Carthage had seized the fortress of Agrigentum (Greek Acragas) on the southern shore of Sicily, and was supplying their thrust, obviously directed against the Syracusan allies, through the major base at Heraclea Minoa not far from the fort. The two Roman consuls with their four legions and allied troops – a contingent of 40,000 men – marched to besiege Agrigentum with the aim of preventing the Punic Army from advancing on their allies. Consul Lucius Postumius Megellus and his colleague, Quintus Mamilius Vitulus set up shop outside of the city and began a siege. A cry for help went out, and assistance quickly summoned in the form of an army under one Hanno, who came with 50,000 men, 6,000 cavalry, and 60 war elephants – a truly formidable force. The Romans were soon besieged themselves and erected walls of contravallation to keep their rears safe.
Megellus needed supplies from Syracuse, but they wouldn’t be able to get through Hanno’s blockade. He and his fellow consul drew up their troops and began to offer battle, but the Carthaginians declined until Hannibal Gisco, the commander of the Agrigentum garrison, sent word via smoke signals that the situation inside Agrigentum was growing desperate. Reluctantly, the Carthaginians accepted battle. Hanno drew his men up in the traditional two Punic lines and the Romans used their triplex acies formation of three lines. Most of the Carthaginian elephants were in the second line, and when the battle was joined, the missiles from the Roman troops drove them into a wild frenzy, stampeding throughout the Punic front, which was broken at several critical points. The Romans surged through and continued to attack the Carthaginians, who were hounded mercilessly as they fled the field. The defeat turned into a rout, and some 15,000 Carthaginian troops were slain, with about the same number of prisoners for the Romans, who also secured about 20 of the elephants. It was a major victory for the Romans, sullied only by the escape of Hannibal Gisco and his garrison. But without it, the fortress was open to the Romans, who entered and garrisoned Agrigentum.
The next years indeed were full of something of a slow advance by the Romans, who maintained a constant advance against the Carthaginians, who by 257 were confined to such fortresses as Eryx, Drepana, Lilybaeum, and Panormus on the western coast. When Panormus fell late that year, the Carthaginians, realizing that their control of even far western Sicily was in doubt, boosted the troop strength in Sicily to an aggregate 60,000 soldiers, including one field army, led by Hannibal Gisco. With this formidable force in their way, Rome couldn’t secure Sicily in its entirety. However, one bright spark, the consul Marcus Regulus, proposed a bold blow: he and an army of about 20,000 legionaries – his full consular army – would sail to Africa, land at Tunes, and besiege Carthage itself. When met with arguments that Carthage would be able to withstand 20,000 men, Regulus is said to have smiled and said, “Audentes fortuna iuvat.”
Fortune favored the bold indeed. With virtually the entire Punic army away in Sicily, Regulus, after a sharp fleet battle at Cape Ecnomus, landed at Tunes and advanced towards Carthage. Desperately, citizens of the city were conscripted, and even some of the poor were given armor and weapons and forced to serve in the army hastily cobbled together by Bostar to block Regulus’ path. The Carthaginians, knowing that they still had far fewer numbers than the Romans, encamped on a hilltop and waited out the night, ready for battle the next day. The Romans were not so patient. Early in the morning, Regulus’ men encircled the hilltop, then made the few enemy elephants stampede throughout the camp. In the confusion, the well-organized legionaries cut through the enemy camp. Only a few hundred Carthaginians escaped back to the city with the news.
In Carthage itself, panic reigned. Refugees began to flood into the city, fleeing from the victorious Roman army that soon made its camp beneath the Punic walls. Many Numidian slaves, seeing a chance for freedom, revolted and began to riot throughout the city; only with the few troops left to man the walls were they put down. Both Shofets were initially against surrendering to Rome and facing the consequences of that surrender, but eventually their populace made them turn around. With bated breath and much trepidation, an embassy was sent to Regulus.
The Romans, victorious, were inclined to be somewhat magnanimous. They had never faced a nation so large before, and the degree of Punic defeat was not enough to warrant a full and complete absorption into Rome itself. Regulus was initially on the side of being rather harsh on the Carthaginians, but, farsighted, he saw that they had been defeated and Rome’s supremacy had been shown. Carthage was still strong and capable of putting up a good fight yet, but there was no real need. After all, the war had lasted for eight years, and Rome had beaten Carthage on both land and sea, on Sicily and in front of the capital itself. Besides, Regulus reasoned, his chance to end the war would be fleeting. His consular term was almost up, and with that would go his power to end the war and gain glory. His terms were rather simple. Including peace and an alliance between Carthage and Rome, Carthage would relinquish its Sicilian cities and all claims thereto (it would become Rome’s first province, overseas or otherwise); Corsica and Sardinia would stay Punic. 100 war elephants would be given to Rome, and a relatively small indemnity would be paid. Considering what they had already lost, the consul reasoned, this would be like getting a reprieve.
Indeed, when the terms were shown to the Shofets, they were inclined to accept. Most people in the city were anxious to get home to their farms, and in the close quarters, plague was beginning to break out among the lower classes, like the Libyans. Despite a brief episode in which a Spartan mercenary, one Xanthippus, beseeched the Punic leaders to allow him to lead an army against Rome, the populace seemed dead set against continuing the war with so little success. Regulus was sent a message of agreement, and by the end of the year, Punic troops were back in Carthage and Carthaginian life was already getting back to normal. As for Regulus, a two-time consul, he was showered with glory. An invasion of Africa and an end to a heretofore slow war in only a few months, with both land and sea victories to go with it: he was hailed as one of the greatest generals in Roman history.
Rome, wishing to concentrate elsewhere to make more territorial gains, soon ran into a stumbling block. The Kingdom of Macedon, under its able ruler King Antigonus Gonatas, was beginning to extend control over Epirus and Illyria with armies fresh from victories in the Chremonidean War against Egypt, Sparta, and Athens. Sensing that Rome wanted Illyria for her own growing empire, Antigonus decided to get there first. It was presented in Rome by the orator and general Catulus as a blatant attempt to gain a base to strike at Italy itself. Macedon needed to be dealt with. Such minor, trivial things like the elimination of piracy in the Adriatic due to the loss of the pirates’ base to Antigonus, who on news of the deliberations in Rome stepped up his campaign, were unnoticed by the Roman populace, who were determined to use their newfound overseas power in humbling another opponent. Accordingly, a fleet and 20,000 legionaries – though only 500 cavalry and no elephants – were dispatched under one M. Aemilius Paullus in 253 to Salonae and Epidamnus (or Dyrrachium) to settle the Macedonians’ hash.
Antigonus, realizing that defeat here would bring about the large-scale revolt of his Hellenic domains (which Ptolemy II Philadelphus, his longtime enemy and rival, would doubtless use as an excuse to attack the Aegean again), took command of the field army personally. He led about 30,000 phalangites and 5,000 cavalry to Epidamnus, intent on a confrontation. Paullus’ two legions and alae landed at the city, ready for a blockade and siege, a practice with which they had long been familiar as a result of the Punic war. Antigonus’ army, which the King was loathe to risk on uneven ground, where the phalanx wouldn’t be as powerful, was drawn up along the Putamnus River, with one flank resting on the river to allow the King to concentrate his cavalry on his other – right – wing. His phalangite infantry were in a typical right-echeloned formation, to make maximum use of the phalanx’s right-wing superiority. Paullus did much the same with his cavalry, concentrating it on his left (he had only 500 of low quality compared with Antigonus’ excellent lancers), with his legionaries in the triplex acies formation of three lines that had proven so effective against the Carthaginians at the battle of Agrigentum.
The Battle of the Putamnus River opened with a Macedonian cavalry charge on their right flank, charging the Romans. Greek lancers came into contact with the Italian cavalry and easily drove the less experienced enemy off the field. Antigonus’ eager horsemen kept up the chase, forcing the equites to flee back to the fleet at Epidamnus. Meanwhile, the phalanx and legion came into contact. The frightful sight of the massed pikes and their sheer number at first put the Romans to pause, but eventually the skilled legionary infantry moved towards them with confidence, attempting to infiltrate the phalanx and cut it to pieces. That attempt was an abysmal failure. On a hillside or other broken ground, the Romans would be able to exploit the irregularities in the phalanx, the openings that would allow them to slip past the pikes and begin to cut the enemy apart. Here, on flat ground, the phalanx was packed tightly, letting nothing through. The weight of 30,000 phalangites and their irresistible advance began to drive the Roman legionaries to pieces. The hastati, the youngest and most energetic, were forced to retreat through the openings in the skilled principes – what was left of them, that is. Unable to penetrate the phalanx and drive it off the field, the Romans’ heretofore-unbeatable legions came to pieces and began to flee. The retreat of the first two lines and the velites, who had briefly engaged in a missile exchange with the Hellenic peltasts, was covered by the triarii, who prevented the entire thing from turning into a rout. Antigonus soon returned with the cavalry and pursued the Roman infantry as evening set in. The Romans lost 7,000 skilled veterans of the Punic Wars, and the rest crowded back to the fleet a few miles distant in Epidamnus, ready to flee.
A quick appraisal of the first major clash between Roman and Hellenistic armies since Pyrrhus of a few decades back will note the care with which Antigonus chose his ground. That, more than anything else, decided the issue. The phalanx, impossible to oppose on open ground, was able to make mincemeat of the Roman legions, which would have defeated it anywhere else. Roman cavalry was also shown to be deficient, as were much of the mounted units of the Mediterranean – at least in comparison to that of Macedon, Seleucia, and Egypt. This is a reflection more on the stupidity of the Roman commander than anything else. Antigonus had been on campaign with his legendary father, Demetrius Poliorcetes, and knew what to do and what not to do with a phalanx. Paullus, in contrast, believed that his legions were invincible after the battles of Agrigentum and Adys, and after the flight of Pyrrhus of Epirus.
Rome’s war, which had been called a “police action” by many at home in the res publica, had turned into an abysmal failure. An entire consular army had been defeated and forced back to their fleet. Antigonus, claiming the field, sent emissaries to Paullus, offering terms. The consul flatly refused these, which would have only entailed a surrender of claims to the Illyrian coastline and Epirus. Angered at his summary dismissal, the King led his army down to the shoreline and forced the Romans to complete their evacuation in ignominy. The Hellenes, who had been denounced by the Romans as “effeminate” and “weak”, now held the field victorious. Antigonus, expecting no trouble for at least the end of the campaigning season, returned to Pella to bask in his victory.
The Romans were incensed at this failure to impose their will. This obvious showing of Roman weakness would not exactly keep the Carthaginians on their side. Romans may not have liked to deal as the Hellenistic rulers did, but she did understand how the world worked. Imperium Puni would try to flex her muscles and perhaps break free of the humiliating alliance and pact with Rome. Already voices in Carthage were crying out for the restoration of Sicily and an invasion of Italy itself. Only with military force and mercenaries from Libya and Greece did the Shofets put down the angry crowds. Throughout Greece, the King was held in some respect, although Greek orators like Aratus of Sicyon (who had to flee that city because of a threat on his life by the ruler, Nicocles) declared that it was a victory over mere Italian provincials, descended from the Trojans, no less. Ptolemy Philadelphus, unable to get any advantage from this recent clash, sulked in Alexandria and continued to gather forces. On the other hand, Antiochus II Theos of the Seleucids, having some trouble with a rebel satrap named Diodotus in Bactria, came to Antigonus to reaffirm their alliance and to borrow some mercenaries, which Antigonus lent as a result of their perceived lack of necessity. With these troops, veterans of the Chremonidean war and the battle of the Putamnus, Diodotus was easily defeated and Bactria was returned, although seething, to Seleucid control.
Carthage, though, was persuaded to remain at Rome’s side as the Romans gathered another army for the 252 campaign and Paullus retired in shame to a Campanian villa. Antigonus, realizing that Rome would be sending even more troops, endeavored to prevent them from even getting there. A Macedonian fleet, under Navarchos Neoptolemos, numbering 200 vessels, including the King’s personal “eight” [2] and many “fives” and “fours”, set out from Thessalonika early that spring and gathered more ships from Athens and Corinth. By the time it took up station off Epidamnus, the fleet had grown to 270 ships, a formidable armada. Against this, the Romans had amassed a fleet, commanded by Regulus, victor of Cape Ecnomus and Adys, of 150 “fives”, a hundred “fours” and about fifty “threes”, on which was mounted an entire consular army of 20,000 men, 1,000 cavalry, and even 20 war elephants. Regulus’ colleague, G. Aurelius Cotta, had another 20,000 legionaries and a smaller fleet of 200 vessels, massing at Tarentum and Metapontum in the south of Italy. It was to be a terrific clash.
Indeed, the naval Battle of Nymphaeum, just north of Epidamnus, was a titanic bout between two highly skilled opponents. The Macedonians, since the time of Philip II, had had a long and glorious naval tradition in the Aegean and eastern Mediterranean, and a Macedonian – Nearchus – had even sailed in the Persian Gulf. Rome hadn’t had such a long naval tradition, but had defeated one of the two premier Mediterranean navies in the First Punic War, and was not yet off that naval high, if they ever would be. Regulus was a veteran admiral, having won the Battle of Cape Ecnomus against the Carthaginians in 256. He had the advantage of numbers on his side, too. The Romans, though, were not as practiced in the hallowed and still-effective Greek naval maneuvers, the diekplous and the periplous. Neoptolemus’ fleet was well trained in those skills, though.
Both sides formed into three units, two wings and a center each. The Romans closed with the Macedonians, who on the wings drove straight through the Roman formation and around, attacking towards the Roman rear. Regulus in the center, though, forced the Macedonians to engage in a struggle of marines. In this area, something of a land battle on water, the well practiced Roman marines easily crushed the Macedonian ones, in an engagement of gladius against sarissa where there was no phalanx to back up the phalangites who found themselves pitted against Roman legionaries. The center was largely lost to the Romans. Neoptolemus attempted to switch his main effort to the wings, but here too, the Romans turned what had been a battle of maneuver into a slog of marine versus marine, one that they could easily win. His fleet shattered, the Macedonian admiral limped south. Regulus continued to the beach, where his army was landed and he prepared to march on Epidamnus.
Antigonus had not been prepared for this rapid invasion and assault, expecting the navy to hold off Regulus for at least a few weeks more. As it was, his army was still massing in Macedonia and Thessaly, widely spread out and highly vulnerable. He sped up the process as best he, as the King, could, and with an army of decreased size – only 20,000 men and 5,000 cavalry – he set off into the Pindus mountains, intent on confining any Roman gains in his absence and ready to defeat each Roman army in detail separately. Upon his arrival at Kerax, not far from the Romans at Epidamnus, Antigonus received word that the city had fallen and that Cotta’s fleet was even now landing at Apollonia further down the coast. Deciding to take care of the weaker threat first, Antigonus and his men marched south to hit Cotta during his siege of Apollonia. With little intelligence on the King’s movements, Regulus unknowingly passed up an excellent opportunity for a pincer maneuver and marched inland, towards Pella, as soon as his supply line was firmly established.
Cotta, on word of Antigonus’ approach, broke the siege and marched to meet him. The two armies gathered on either side of the Apsus River at Antipatria, named after the former regent of the Alexandrine Empire. In a wily move, Antigonus snuck across the river under cover of darkness and was able to group his army south of Cotta’s by daybreak. In battle he would try to smash the Romans against the river. Deploying in his usual echeloned formation with cavalry on both wings, the Macedonian waited for the Romans to break camp before he struck. He had once again chosen his ground fairly well, putting himself in a situation to charge downhill and force the Romans into a bend in the river. As Cotta desperately tried to get his army to form up and march against the enemy in full formation, Antigonus launched his cavalry at the enemy, followed up closely by his phalanx. He caught the Romans in disarray, trying to deploy, and routed them with only his cavalry. Smashing them against the river, the Macedonians claimed 3,000 Roman dead in the initial charge and about 5,000 during the mop-up by the phalanx and cavalry. It was another crushing victory. Fortunately for himself, Cotta committed suicide after reaching the north bank of the river. The remnants of his army, numbering about 10,000 after prisoners and casualties, was regrouped under a tribune and marched north, reaching Regulus after a week of searching.
Antigonus was now in an unenviable position. He was still able to send reinforcements, and it was possible to cut Regulus off from his supply base, but Pella, his capital, was now virtually exposed, with only a token force of 15,000 there, commanded by his son, Demetrius II. If Regulus headed for his capital and occupied or destroyed it, he would stand to lose much of southern Greece to rebellions and revolts by the liberty-loving southerners. With a larger army from reinforcement, numbering about 35,000 infantry and 7,000 cavalry, along with 10 war elephants he pilfered from Cotta’s supply base outside Apollonia, the Macedonian King marched inland to meet Regulus. He needn’t have worried. With 30,000 legionaries, 1,200 cavalry, and 20 elephants, Regulus moved back across the Pindus and reached Parthinia, not far from Epidamnus, at about the same time as King Antigonus.
Regulus, realizing that his deficiency in cavalry would probably be a problem, added a few maniples of legionaries to the cavalry, forcing the cav to travel more slowly but giving it more striking power. He decided that since the phalanx could not be defeat frontally, he’d have to hold them off by skirmishing and hope for success on the flanks. Antigonus continued his formulaic formation of the echeloned phalanx with peltasts deployed in a thin line in front, and cavalry on either wing, believing that the Romans, having failed to learn from the battle of the Putamnus, wouldn’t learn any lessons from Cotta’s defeat at Antipatria.
Initial skirmishing along the front was eventually broken off by Antigonus, who realized that his peltasts and psiloi [3] were outclassed by the Roman velites and heavy infantry, who also had spears, or pila. Unleashing his heavy cavalry in an attempt to seek decision on the flanks, he ran into Regulus’ specially augmented wing units. What had originally been expected to be a rout of the Roman cavalry to get round behind the center turned into a prolonged, slogging battle into which Antigonus decided to commit his elephants. Regulus reciprocated with his velites, who were able to kill several of the beasts and drive them back on Antigonus’ phalanx, which was still trying to catch the elusive Roman legions. Antigonus, refusing to accept failure, managed to eliminate most of his remaining elephants and committed more troops to the flank battle, until evening, when his tired phalanx was unable to continue in pursuit of the legionaries in the center and the flank action was tiring out even more of his men. Discouraged, the King ordered a withdrawal, which was uncontested by Regulus, who too had suffered high casualties in the battle.
The battle at Parthinia hadn’t really decided anything. By using the legions as they weren’t supposed to be used, Regulus had scored a tactical and strategic victory by forcing Antigonus to withdraw behind the Pindus. Epirus was now essentially under Roman control. However, the troops he had were not enough to hold the region effectively after his losses at Parthinia in what had basically been a deadly game of chicken with Antigonus on the flanks (fortunately for the Romans, the King had blinked before Regulus did), and his fleet was still weak after the naval battle at Nymphaeum. Realizing any further assault on his position in Epirus would probably succeed, Regulus sent envoys to Macedon, asking for peace and trying to bluff Antigonus into not attacking him. For Antigonus’ part, he, as a wily diplomat, skilled in manipulating the Greek ministates against each other, saw through the Romans’ transparent attempt to avoid a battle but also knew that peace or no peace, Ptolemy would be trying for southern Greece and the Aegean again at this sign of apparent weakness. In order to forestall this, he had to get south with an army and crush any signs of revolt and Egyptians. That, and he believed that Rome wouldn’t try to expand any further into Greece. It was just too untenable. Besides, the Greeks liked their liberty. He knew that all too well. The Romans didn’t seem able to hold areas effectively. The King agreed to peace with Rome controlling Epirus and Illyria and then moved south to forestall revolt.
After the critical years of the 260s and 250s, the Mediterranean world began to calm down a bit and settle into a repetitive pattern of events. Antigonus managed to fend off Ptolemy’s clumsy attempts at inciting rebellion in Greece, and on his death at age 82 in 237 was able to bequeath a powerful kingdom to his son, Demetrius II. Rome, for her part, began to campaign more and more against the Gauls in northern Italy, and had established several colonies on the Po, the chief one Placentia, by 220. Carthage, spearheaded by the Gisco family, expanded into first the east and Libya, taking advantage of Egyptian preoccupations in Syria and Greece to take over Cyrenaica. Eventually, the Giscos and another family, the Barcas, began to fight over the top spots in Punic government, causing a brief civil war, called the “Mercenary War” by some due to the heavy use of these mercs by the Giscos, who were defeated by Hamilcar Barca and his sons Hannibal, Hasdrubal, and Mago. Under Barcid rule in the 230s and 220s, Carthage began to aggressively expand into Iberia, subduing Celtic tribes and occupying Baetica and southern Lusitania, as well as much of what the Romans called “Tarraconensis”. Rome, meddling with northeastern Iberian politics, began to lock horns with Carthage in the neighborhood of the Ebro River, and by 220 both nations began to prepare for war, which seemed inevitable.
Seleucia managed several victories against the Attalid kings of Pergamum during this period, seizing much of the eastern Aegean coast as Macedon began to extend control over Thrace and Bithynia. The kingdom of Pontus stayed in control in northern Anatolia, but virtually all of the remainder was Seleucid. The Seleucids were defeated several times by the Egyptians in contests for Coele Syria and Palestine, but gave as good as they got, so by 220 Egypt controlled southern Phoenicia and the coastal regions of Palestine, as well as the south of that area including Jerusalem, and the Seleucids had…well, everything north of that. Seleucid control over Bactria was solidified during the late 250s but was weakened by the revolt of a Parthian prince named Arsaces. Seleucus II, on his ascension in 249, was forced to fight hard to retain control of Parthia. Throughout the 240s the Arsacids carried on a civil war, and during this time the Egyptians gained some land in Syria, but the Seleucids managed to bring the Parthians to battle and defeat them decisively at Harmosia. With the east briefly secured, Seleucus marched back into Syria and after initial defeats at the hands of Ptolemy III (in other words, he had his rear handed to him on a silver platter) around Damascus, the Seleucids began to exercise their superior resources and through sheer numbers defeated the Egyptians outside of Jerusalem, culminating in the surprise death of the Pharaoh Ptolemy III Euergetes in a nighttime cavalry skirmish. Seleucid troubles were magnified by the permanent loss of Bactria and constant low-level warfare with the Parthians in Persis. By 220 the Seleucid domains, though diminished since the time of Seleucus Nicator, were home to the most powerful single state in the eastern Mediterranean.
Ptolemaic Egypt went through a decline during this period, losing its territories in Asia Minor to the Seleucids and – after a brief revival during the 240s during the time of Seleucid problems and the reign of Ptolemy III – losing part of Syria and Palestine as well as Cyrenaica. A diminished Egypt under Ptolemy IV Philopator tried to maintain its shaky control over its territory, and after several revolts in the 230s and early 220s the Greek aristocracy and ruling class began to slowly identify itself more as “Egyptian”, although no actual ethnic Egyptians ascended to high civil or military office.
Notes:
[1] = Yes, there will be more. (HINT: This means that neither Rome nor Carthage are destroyed at the end of this one.) Perhaps not in this particular chapter, but sometime in the course of the timeline.
[2] = Each of these numbers denoted the number of rows of rowers each of these ships has. A “five” is also called a quinqueremes and a “three” a trireme. Quinqueremes were the most common fighting ship in the Mediterranean at this time, popularized by Roman victories utilizing them at Mylae and Cape Ecnomus during the First Punic War. Triremes had seen their day during the fifth and fourth centuries and were now relegated to second-line duties, like the F-4 Phantom or MiG-21 Fishbed nowadays.
[3] = Psiloi were originally camp followers in Alexandrine times who were given a number of darts and acted as skirmishers during the first stages of a battle. By this period, they were a well-trained missile force, armed with lighter weaponry than peltasts in order to better engage enemies in the mountains. Indeed, Alexander used his original psiloi well during his campaigns in Central Asia’s rough terrain.
Questions? Comments? Nitpicking?
[1] = Yes, there will be more. (HINT: This means that neither Rome nor Carthage are destroyed at the end of this one.) Perhaps not in this particular chapter, but sometime in the course of the timeline.
[2] = Each of these numbers denoted the number of rows of rowers each of these ships has. A “five” is also called a quinqueremes and a “three” a trireme. Quinqueremes were the most common fighting ship in the Mediterranean at this time, popularized by Roman victories utilizing them at Mylae and Cape Ecnomus during the First Punic War. Triremes had seen their day during the fifth and fourth centuries and were now relegated to second-line duties, like the F-4 Phantom or MiG-21 Fishbed nowadays.
[3] = Psiloi were originally camp followers in Alexandrine times who were given a number of darts and acted as skirmishers during the first stages of a battle. By this period, they were a well-trained missile force, armed with lighter weaponry than peltasts in order to better engage enemies in the mountains. Indeed, Alexander used his original psiloi well during his campaigns in Central Asia’s rough terrain.
Questions? Comments? Nitpicking?
Not a great leader per se. IMHO he just knew a formulaic approach and kept to it. He's also making a reasonable inference based on Cotta's poor performance. The formation itself wasn't the problem, it was his reaction to slow progress on the flanks. He just wasn't able to innovate, is all.
das
Regeneration In Process
Alright Thlayli, I think I'll try and make you the stats... what ruleset was it again?
Now that's all good, but I did entertain hopes that you would continue the medieval one. It still has much potential for development, IMHO. Then again, it already could make for a nice medieval NES, if someone actually intended to start one of those any time soon.
So is it "token territories" or "significant chunk"?
Did I say that I'm not very knowledgeable about the Middle Ages? Because I am even less knowledgeable about the Classical Era Mediterranean.
Good althist, though as I already implied, it may be slightly confusing for those who do not know the time too well.
IMHO this time you're a bit biased in favour of Romans; that victory at Tunis was way too easy.
Another thing, after so many victories, mightn't it all get to Regulus' head? In other words, I suspect that he might try to pull a Sulla, if not a Caeser. In any case, this world's Roman land victories may result in the general greater importance of the army (which tends to be less democratic than the navy, which in OTL won the First Punic War while the Roman army's performance was uneven); and if not Regulus, then someone else might take absolute power earlier. Just a thought, though. Not sure why did I put it under nitpicks.
Also, from what I recall he was in favour of a harsher peace. But meh, opinions change easily.
I think "no more" might be more appropriate in this case, unless I misunderstand.
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In conclusion, I again say that its a good one and I would like to see how it would develop. I do ofcourse hope for the retention of some sort of multipolarity in the Mediterranean, though that might be difficult in the long-term; still, for now things are going nicely. IMHO it won't be too hard to make a map here, btw. I think there was some map for this time period a while ago?
Now that's all good, but I did entertain hopes that you would continue the medieval one. It still has much potential for development, IMHO. Then again, it already could make for a nice medieval NES, if someone actually intended to start one of those any time soon.
So is it "token territories" or "significant chunk"?
Did I say that I'm not very knowledgeable about the Middle Ages? Because I am even less knowledgeable about the Classical Era Mediterranean.
Good althist, though as I already implied, it may be slightly confusing for those who do not know the time too well.
IMHO this time you're a bit biased in favour of Romans; that victory at Tunis was way too easy.
Another thing, after so many victories, mightn't it all get to Regulus' head? In other words, I suspect that he might try to pull a Sulla, if not a Caeser. In any case, this world's Roman land victories may result in the general greater importance of the army (which tends to be less democratic than the navy, which in OTL won the First Punic War while the Roman army's performance was uneven); and if not Regulus, then someone else might take absolute power earlier. Just a thought, though. Not sure why did I put it under nitpicks.
Also, from what I recall he was in favour of a harsher peace. But meh, opinions change easily.
I think "no more" might be more appropriate in this case, unless I misunderstand.
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In conclusion, I again say that its a good one and I would like to see how it would develop. I do ofcourse hope for the retention of some sort of multipolarity in the Mediterranean, though that might be difficult in the long-term; still, for now things are going nicely. IMHO it won't be too hard to make a map here, btw. I think there was some map for this time period a while ago?
das
Regeneration In Process
That's quite the problem, I'm not sure what it was specifically, only that it resulted in a succesful North African campaign as opposed to OTL's debacle.
Thlayli
Le Pétit Prince
Err...success in the siege of Syracuse? Didn't it fail originally? Pythagoras did design the walls, or some famous Classical-Age scholar.
@das: Similar to Staznes VI's stats, if possible.
@das: Similar to Staznes VI's stats, if possible.
das
Regeneration In Process
Do you have any links to that NES?
Archimedes designed various defensive measures, but that was in the Second Punic War, IMHO... don't recall what happened to it in the First one, but the Romans don't seem to have besieged it at all.
Neither, incidentally, did they do so in this world; Syracuse merely switched sides at some point, allying with Rome. Could that be the PoD?
Archimedes designed various defensive measures, but that was in the Second Punic War, IMHO... don't recall what happened to it in the First one, but the Romans don't seem to have besieged it at all.
Neither, incidentally, did they do so in this world; Syracuse merely switched sides at some point, allying with Rome. Could that be the PoD?
Thlayli
Le Pétit Prince
das said:
Hmm, that's odd, I definitely seem to remember the Romans sacking Syracuse...hold on one minute.
*pulls out The Punic Wars*
EDIT: Syracuse allied with Rome in the First Punic Wars, which apparently it also did here. The whole Mamertine buildup sticks to OTL So that's not the PoD. King Hiero of Syracuse was a great friend of Rome, but upon his death, his successor (Hipparchus I think) was pursuaded by the pro-Carthaginians in the city to revolt. He did so during the Second Punic War, and the city was besieged and sacked.
Oh, I got it! Regulus in OTL proposed much harsher terms to the Carthaginians, which inspired them to fight on, leading to Regulus' total defeat at the Battle of Tunis. By Xanthippus, unless I'm mistaken.
das
Regeneration In Process
OOC: The last few paragraphs are a bit rushed (especially the Persian one). Not sure where do I intend to take this exactly; but I think I'll do the Eurasian War itself and the early post-war period, though I might continue this further, not sure.
IC:
It is a common, yet dimwitted mistake to think the world before the Eurasian War to be divided between two armed camps, the members of both awaiting the signal for an all-out continental melee; it is erroneous to say that the two alliance systems of the day have put each other in deadlock, unable to back away from their alliances and stated obligations. To the very end, the diplomacy remained volatile and geopolitics flexible - even chaotic, and the great powers of the world, as usual, watched out mostly for themselves and their interests, all alliances, no matter how often explained by dynastical ties or ideological affinities, being chiefly ones of convenience and accordingly changing as was convenient for the interested powers.
Thus the alliance system remained highly flexible to the very end. Very demonstrative of this is the fact that, in the beginning of the 20th century, the two main European alliances were the Franco-Russian Entente and the Triple Alliance of Germany, Austria-Hungary and Italy, whilst Great Britain, for instance, still clinged on to the policy of "arrogant neutrality" as some would later call it. Towards 1917, the diplomatical system was being constantly shaken and alliances were changed - often radically - by a myriad of wars and lesser crises, and treaties both official and secret.
At the outset of the century, one could already see that inevitability of the coming war. Already, the great European powers - and in addition to them, Japan and USA - were beginning to run out of expansion room, as both their direct rule and economical influence resulted in border incidents, colonial debates and ever more intensive economic competition, especially between the ascendant Germany and the still-predominant Britain. Meanwhile, on the continent, Franco-German tensions did not cease at all, while Austro-Hungarian and Russian interests clashed in the Balkans, where the Ottoman control was rapidly disintegrating. Younger powers - Italy and Japan - were seeking to expand their control and influence, the Japanese having made their debut with the Sino-Japanese War of 1894-1895 and the Italians having - less gloriously - established footholds in East Africa, but both having numerous ambitions and aware of several opportunities. The Russian giant was still playing its Great Game with Britain, competing with it in influence from the Balkans to Korea. The United States of America, still neutral, now at last emerged into the world stage, expanding into the Pacific andr eaching out into China's developing market, whilst winning enemies in both Britain and Germany, having not at all abandoned the Monroe Doctrine. Lastly, Ottoman and Chinese rulers tried desperately to turn the tide of the decline of their empires, but all in vain, as by now the Europeans infiltrated both of them thoroughly enough, and the two ancient, proud empires were quickly becoming economical colonies and political satellites.
Already in 1900 - although it was technically the last year of the 19th century - the last phase of European colonial expansionism commenced, as the French and the British went about imposing order in their respective African colonial empires (the most notable part of this was, ofcourse, the Boer War), whilst the xenophobic Boxer Rebellion in China and the international intervention and defeat thereof already started the Scramble for China; though actual partition of the vast empire was (for now) prevented by American intervention and the "Open Door" compromise, great powers - Russia, Britain, Germany, France and Japan - leased Chinese ports and set up spheres of influence, and, along with a variety of other powers (most notably USA, ofcourse), established European "concessions" in pretty much every Chinese city of commercial importance. The humbled Qing government - which had supported the Boxers initially - was practically powerless as it watched China increasingly fall to foreign rule...
The 20th century formally begun in 1901 - the year when Queen Victoria died, and with her, an entire era, the era of the Splendid Isolation, for though the past British policies - general neutrality and diplomatical blocking any dangerous alterations to the balance of power - have worked well enough in the past, now a new, very real threat to Britain's great power status was on the rise - Germany, which challenged Britain economically, competed with it colonially and also threatened to overtake Britain in the naval arms race. Accordingly, Edward VII immediately upon his ascension begun to work to find allies, especially in France. The 1902 resignation of Prime Minister the Marquess of Salisbury was soon followed up by Britain's first alliance of this new age - that with Japan, a good British trading partner and generally a nation Britain had for some time now propped up to counter Russian expansion in the Far East. Meanwhile similar inroads were made in France and Persia.
Across the Atlantic Ocean, the era of 1901-1904 mostly coincided with Theodore Roosevelt's first term, a time very eventful both at home and - which is more important to us here - abroad. Having taken over the presidency after being the Vice President to the murdered McKinley for approximately a year, the overactive, charismatic new president's foreign policies in the first term, the continued consolidation of Pacific gains and the revision of Alaska-Canada borders aside, centered chiefly on the Carribean, where he not only worked to generally strenghthen American influence and impose the Platt Amendment (which for all purposes turned Cuba into an American satellite) and - after initially intervenning on the Conservative side in the Colombian Thousand Days War - organizing Panama's peaceful seccession with the subsequent creation of the Canal Zone and beginning of actual work on the Panama Canal to link the Atlantic and the Pacific Oceans - but also, most notably, countered the Germans who, using the Venezuela's Castro regime's failure to pay up debts, begun shelling coastal Venezuelan towns. The Americans had the Germans evicted by threat of force (and Italians and the British as well, but more politely, in part because of Roosevelt's pro-British bias, in part because they didn't go quite as far as the Germans did in their "extraction"). And then Roosevelt forced Cipriano Castro to pay up his debts anyway, but that is beside the point; the point was that America was now following a strong, imperialistic foreign policy, and a very loud one too. Soon after his reelection in 1904, he had officially announced the Roosevelt Corollary to the Monroe Doctrine, quite clearly defining the Western Hemisphere as a sphere of American interest and warning European Great Powers to keep out. This was bad news for Germany; it had gained a formidable opponent and whatever plans it may have entertained for the Carribean had to be scrapped (even though that direction was not of particular importance for Germany).
Back in Europe, it was a comparatively quiet time, even though some political reshuffling - especially in Britain, where the Splendid Isolation, the values of the Victorian Age and the aristocratic political predominance ("Rule of the Patricians") were slowly eroding - took place. Another country saw curious and important developments - Serbia, where the extremelly Austrophilic, autocratic and universally-hated King Aleksandar I was overthrown and brutally slain along with his similarily unpopular queen Draga by a conspiracy of patriotic officers, led by Colonel Dragutin Dimitrijevic (who would eventually found the Black Hand ultranationalist organization that would exercise enormous political influence in Serbia later on) in 1903; as he died heirless, the Obrenovic dynasty was declared overthrown, and in Aleksandar's stead a Karageorgevic, Petar, was crowned King of Serbia, and immediately begun a variety of reforms, turning Serbia into a parliamentary monarchy and breaking with the Austrians, instead seeking Russian support and protesting loudly the Austrian occupation of Bosnia and Herzegovina. Soon enough the tensions gained an economic angle as well, as the Pig War - a tariff war, really - forced the Serbs out of Austrian markets... and into exporting beef to the rest of the Balkans and to Russia, causing Serbia to actually become even less dependant and connected with Austria-Hungary.
In Africa, this was a time of imperial consolidation, defeat of the last native kingdoms - most notably Sokoto which was finally conquered by Britain - and struggle against various rebels; also some border disagreements took place, but these were mostly minor and unnoticed. In Asia, the Chinese government tried to reform again - mostly concentrating on the military - but things remained very much uncertain for it; meanwhile, Russo-Japanese tensions grew rapidly, the interests and influences of both clashing in Manchuria and Korea, and the Japanese still being bitter over their humiliating indiction from Port Arthur by Russia, Germany and France back in 1895. In 1902, the Japanese raided Port Arthur, causing some minor damage, and provoking long, futile negotiations between Russia and Japan; in 1903, the Transsiberian Railroad was finished, and redeployment of additional Russian forces to occupied Manchuria begun...
The years 1904-1906 were of vital importance, as several crucial events took place, and the whole alliance system was seriously overhauled; it is from 1906 that the proper countdown to the eventual Eurasian War should probably begin, as the lines already begun to be drawn then, the cores of the two eventual wartime alliances having been defined. And generally, those were three very eventful years, so perhaps it would be best to start with a brief list of some of the less important events - specifically, the various failed African rebellions (especially the fatal Herero insurrection), the aforementioned Pig War, the separation of Norway from Sweden under Haakon VII, the Anglo-Egyptian acquisition of Sinai from Turkey and the uprisings in Persia with the subsequent adaption of a constitution.
But not much of this was noticed while the Russo-Japanese War and the Moroccan Crisis went on; these events just overshadowed everything else. Let us begin with the Russo-Japanese War itself; the disagreements between the two nations, once near-allies, were numerous, they went from possession of Port Arthur and Russian occupation of Manchuria to fishing boundaries and Japanese advisors at the Korean Emperor's court; yet the focal point was ofcourse the great naval base of Port Arthur, with its great strategic importance for both sides involved. It is apt - and logical, as the Russian Pacific Fleet was based there and nowhere else - that the war should begin with a Battle of Port Arthur. The Japanese surprise night attack allowed them to heavily damage several Russian ships, though the subsequent naval skirmishes were indecisive; the greatest achievement of that attack was, however, that the Russian fleet was at least temporarily forced to the defensive, whilst the Japanese one was free to roam the seas - and transport Japanese forces to various points in Korea, occupying the country and proceeding from it and across the Yalu into Manchuria; immediately after crossing the river, the Japanese won a major, if costly, victory in the Battle at Yalu; they routed the Russian forces there and in several subsequent battles. With naval supremacy and land initiative in their hands, the Japanese under General Nogi hadn't much trouble besieging Port Arthur - surrounding it with minefields and ships and attacking it with troops. Nogi was in luck when first Admiral Makarov and his flagship struck a mine and sunk, completely preventing any offensive Russian naval action, but on the land, though advancing with their numerical supremacy, the Japanese were forced to bleed hard for every inch. But in the end they managed to take up good positions, the 203 Meter Hill from where they were free to bombard the Russian Pacific Fleet with their howitzers. With the elimination of the fleet and the Japanese still advancing, General Stoessel in charge of the garrison panicked in yet another stroke of luck for Nogi, and, despite the fairly good positions for defending the port itself and more than sufficient supplies, surrendered instaed of waiting for reinforcements that were already near.
But no matter Stoessel's actions, the reinforcements did arrive, and the war seemed far from over. In late 1904, after the inconclusive and costly Battle at Shaho, the Japanese drive on Mukden was stopped by the terrible weather; that Manchurian winter was one of the worst for some time; as if the temperatures weren't bad enough, there often enough occured blizzards, in other words, it was not what is usually considered fighting weather, so the Japanese General Oyama had decided to wait the winter out and also give Nogi time to link up with him for a decisive offensive towards Mukden. Thinking fighting in such weather impossible, the Japanese soldiers didn't bother to prepare any proper defensive positions and were ripe for picking, though ofcourse the Russian commanders scarcely knew of this. Alexei Kuropatkin, the Russian commander-in-chief in Manchuria, was a very cautious man and argued consistantly against any risky offensives, but General Oskar-Ferdinand Kazimirovich Grippenberg, commander of the Russian Second Army, finally managed to persuade Kuropatkin to allow him to launch a limited offensive against the Japanese left flank, at Sandepu. Against all expectations, the attack was a complete success - the unprepared Japanese, despite occasionally putting up very fierce resistance, were mostly routed, the left flank falling back in disarray. After weighing all pros and cons, Kuropatkin decided to follow this victory up with a general offensive against the Japanese center. By now aware of the left flank's grim fate, the stronger Japanese forces in the center, at Sandepu itself, naturally put up a fiercer fight, but being outflanked they too were eventually overwhelmed; attempts to retreat under Russian pursuit resulted in even more panic, especially after several units, whether out of their own accord or due to being outmaneuvered, stood and fought instead of falling back; in the end the planned orderly retreat turned into a chaotic, panicked rout, and the Russian winter offensive proved a total success, Oyama's forces shattered decisively. Moving forward, the Russians intercepted and defeated Nogi as well, though his was a more orderly retreat; in any case, however, by the time the spring came the Japanese were largely forced back into Korea and Port Arthur, and in the former there already begun anti-Japanese rebellions, whilst first Russian units crossed the Yalu. Not all went well for the Russians, however; the initial assault on Port Arthur was forced back, and also, on the sea, after an odyssey around half the Old World, the Russian Baltic Fleet sent to relieve Port Arthur a while ago was defeated badly at Tsushima.
But this naval victory was a very limited success, as Japan was faced by an economical and political crisis; the war had badly overstrained Japan's economy, and consequently, the conservative Prime Minister Katsura Taro resigned and his pro-war government fell; instead, the anti-war liberal Saionji Kinmochi became Prime Minister, and begun making inroads for peace. In the meantime, riots occured in Russian cities; Russia's economy was also affected by the war, though not quite as badly as the Japanese one, and the conscription was very unpopular. Lastly, the British begun making threatening gestures; though they did not join into the war on the behalf of their Japanese allies, perhaps in part to avoid antagonizing the French with whom they recently signed a treaty of Entente Cordiale, that option was still open, or at the very least the British were more than willing to rectify Japan's financial problems, and also put pressure on Russia. In other words, everything pointed towards a negotiated compromise peace; as turmoil spread in the countryside, the Tsar, despite his initial reluctance, eventually caved in.
Theodore Roosevelt was quick to jump into all this and promised to help intermediate a peace treaty on neutral ground, in Portsmouth, New Hampshire. Though only the Russian, the Japanese and the American representatives were invited, the British inevitably also begun to meddle in the negotiations, seeking to limit Russian gains as much as possible. Initially Nicholas II wanted direct and official control over Manchuria, Port Arthur, Korea and the Kurils, and in addition to that, restrictions on the Japanese military and war indimnities from Japan. Obviously enough that was a bit too much, and in the end, a compromise was reached - not a one Nicholas II particularily liked, but a barely acceptable one at least. Russia got to formally annex Manchuria, and Japan dropped all claims to Port Arthur whatsoever. By a separate protocol with Britain, Outer Mongolia and Sinkiang were recognized as Russian spheres of influence, in exchange for recognition of Tibet as within the British sphere. All Japanese advisors were evicted from Korea, which recovered full independence under the Gwangmu Emperor, although it did have to sign several agreements with Russia (yet in general, it remained a neutral, semi-buffer state; thanks to the Gwangmu Emperor's wise policies, Korea soon entered a sadly-brief era of independence, peace and prosperity as foreign investment and trade flowed in). Japan was forced to pay out some war indemnities to Rusisa, but mostly nominal ones.
Whilst Korea was, in a way, one of the biggest benefiters by gaining its independence, and America also clearly won from this, gaining greatly in prestige and winning allies in British, Russian, Korean and Japanese political circles (especially the Japanese ones; this and the rise of American-Japanese trade later into the decade was the beginning of the Americano-Japanese friendship, though the Americans weren't really willing to go as far as to sign an alliance), all the other great powers were also affected by this, and often enough it was unclear whether the effect was positive or negative.
Of immediate importance are the changes in Japan and Russia. In the former, on one hand, the liberals scored a significant political victory; on the other, revanchism was quick to appear. Japan defeat in Manchuria caused it to rely more on its alliance with Britain, which was expanded further; likewise, Saionji Kinmochi, a friend of Clemenceau's, fostered good relations with France. This line was pursued both out of ideological affinity and for more practical reasons - French relations with Russia detiriorated badly and bilaterally for a variety of reasons, while Britain was more concerned about the growth of Russian power in Asia than ever before - thus obviously, both Britain and France were Japan's natural allies against Russia; Kinmochi recognized the importance of checking the Russian power somehow.
In the latter, after the circumcised victory over Japan and the violent reprisals against the various revolutionary groups, as already mentioned, relations with France and Britain detiriorated. The former was increasingly disliked for failing to support Russia in any way during the war and for allying with Britain, which, in turn, consistantly acted to check Russian expansion and which (partially) stole the victory over Japan; indeed, both Britain and France were considered to be cowardly, treacherous and manipulative, striving to deny Russia its greatness. In France, meanwhile, outrage over the brutal Russian subjugation of the various rebels - both the socialists and the Polish/Finnish nationalists - grew, and infiltrated the circles of the political elite; and generally, foreign minister Theophile Delcasse favoured Britain rather than Russia. Though the Franco-Russian alliance wasn't abolished, it seemed deader by the day, especially after Nicholas II's personal meeting with Wilhelm II at Bjorko in Finland; the treaty of friendship signed there wasn't taken very seriously at first, but in fact it was quite important; Wilhelm II, acting with uncharacteristic tact and adroitness, fueled Nicholas II's growing Francophobia and explained to him that the French were against him, that they were behind all those risings, that he - Nicholas II - could only trust him - Wilhelm II - in this harsh and treacherous world (well, he ofcourse didn't say exactly that, but that was the spirit of his speech); and Nicholas II increasingly trusted his cousin. The Russo-German reconciliation was also in part preconditioned by general Russian distraction from Europe and attraction to Asia, where the Great Game resumed and Russia stood poised to take over vast landmasses from Persia to Mongolia. As long as Russia concentrated on Asian expansion, its interests didn't clash with the German ones - and clashed ever more with those of Britain and to a lesser extent France, the two powers that were clearly working against Germany.
The lines were drawn in 1906. For nearly a century now, Morocco escaped potential French domination by recruiting British assistance, but now that Britain and France were close allies, and the British officially gave France a free hand in Morocco, the French quickly moved to strenghthen their positions there. However, while Britain (and Spain, which was promised the Rif Mountains and lands north, and Italy, which by a secret treaty was promised diplomatical French support for any effort to acquire Cyreneica and/or Tripolitania) may have supported and even endorsed this, Germany, quite predictably, opposed any French encroachment on Moroccan independence; this also had much to do with the fact that German investments were pouring into Morocco as of late. So in 1905, Kaiser Wilhelm II arrived in Tangier and there affirmed his support for Moroccan independence. As one might expect, the French protested this meddling within their sphere of influence; a furious and futile diplomatic debate ensued, while at some point both Germany and France nearly launched mobilizations. In the end, the issue was settled by an international conference at Algeciras; though Germany was supported by Austria-Hungary and (much to Delcasse's dismay) Russia, everybody else, including the representatives sent by Roosevelt had imposed a compromise with some nominal French concessions and a guarantee of the safety of German - and other foreign - investments. French influence over Morocco was there to stay, and plans were already made for an eventual protectorate.
War was avoided - not that it was terribly likely back then anyway. But already in 1906, the two alliances formed; United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland, Third Republic of France and the Empire of Japan had officially created the Entente Alliance, whilst the Second Reich, the Russian and the Austrian-Hungarian Empires, despite past and continued disagreements (especially in the Balkans, where the Russians and the Germans had to persuade the Austro-Hungarians to stop their tariff war, which failed anyway as already mentioned; nonetheless, ofcourse, Austria-Hungary still had pretty bad relations with Serbia, and suspicious of Russia even as the latter concentrated its attention on Asian expansion as opposed to a Balkans-first foreign policies), revived the Dreikaiserbund. Italy, having ominously opposed German meddling in Morocco, did not join the Entente, and remained part of the past Triple Alliance; but the one thing that was certain was that Italy was still aligned with "sacred egoism" and its own interests - and at the moment the Italian politicians saw their interests to be served best by working with Britain and France.
IC:
It is a common, yet dimwitted mistake to think the world before the Eurasian War to be divided between two armed camps, the members of both awaiting the signal for an all-out continental melee; it is erroneous to say that the two alliance systems of the day have put each other in deadlock, unable to back away from their alliances and stated obligations. To the very end, the diplomacy remained volatile and geopolitics flexible - even chaotic, and the great powers of the world, as usual, watched out mostly for themselves and their interests, all alliances, no matter how often explained by dynastical ties or ideological affinities, being chiefly ones of convenience and accordingly changing as was convenient for the interested powers.
Thus the alliance system remained highly flexible to the very end. Very demonstrative of this is the fact that, in the beginning of the 20th century, the two main European alliances were the Franco-Russian Entente and the Triple Alliance of Germany, Austria-Hungary and Italy, whilst Great Britain, for instance, still clinged on to the policy of "arrogant neutrality" as some would later call it. Towards 1917, the diplomatical system was being constantly shaken and alliances were changed - often radically - by a myriad of wars and lesser crises, and treaties both official and secret.
At the outset of the century, one could already see that inevitability of the coming war. Already, the great European powers - and in addition to them, Japan and USA - were beginning to run out of expansion room, as both their direct rule and economical influence resulted in border incidents, colonial debates and ever more intensive economic competition, especially between the ascendant Germany and the still-predominant Britain. Meanwhile, on the continent, Franco-German tensions did not cease at all, while Austro-Hungarian and Russian interests clashed in the Balkans, where the Ottoman control was rapidly disintegrating. Younger powers - Italy and Japan - were seeking to expand their control and influence, the Japanese having made their debut with the Sino-Japanese War of 1894-1895 and the Italians having - less gloriously - established footholds in East Africa, but both having numerous ambitions and aware of several opportunities. The Russian giant was still playing its Great Game with Britain, competing with it in influence from the Balkans to Korea. The United States of America, still neutral, now at last emerged into the world stage, expanding into the Pacific andr eaching out into China's developing market, whilst winning enemies in both Britain and Germany, having not at all abandoned the Monroe Doctrine. Lastly, Ottoman and Chinese rulers tried desperately to turn the tide of the decline of their empires, but all in vain, as by now the Europeans infiltrated both of them thoroughly enough, and the two ancient, proud empires were quickly becoming economical colonies and political satellites.
Already in 1900 - although it was technically the last year of the 19th century - the last phase of European colonial expansionism commenced, as the French and the British went about imposing order in their respective African colonial empires (the most notable part of this was, ofcourse, the Boer War), whilst the xenophobic Boxer Rebellion in China and the international intervention and defeat thereof already started the Scramble for China; though actual partition of the vast empire was (for now) prevented by American intervention and the "Open Door" compromise, great powers - Russia, Britain, Germany, France and Japan - leased Chinese ports and set up spheres of influence, and, along with a variety of other powers (most notably USA, ofcourse), established European "concessions" in pretty much every Chinese city of commercial importance. The humbled Qing government - which had supported the Boxers initially - was practically powerless as it watched China increasingly fall to foreign rule...
The 20th century formally begun in 1901 - the year when Queen Victoria died, and with her, an entire era, the era of the Splendid Isolation, for though the past British policies - general neutrality and diplomatical blocking any dangerous alterations to the balance of power - have worked well enough in the past, now a new, very real threat to Britain's great power status was on the rise - Germany, which challenged Britain economically, competed with it colonially and also threatened to overtake Britain in the naval arms race. Accordingly, Edward VII immediately upon his ascension begun to work to find allies, especially in France. The 1902 resignation of Prime Minister the Marquess of Salisbury was soon followed up by Britain's first alliance of this new age - that with Japan, a good British trading partner and generally a nation Britain had for some time now propped up to counter Russian expansion in the Far East. Meanwhile similar inroads were made in France and Persia.
Across the Atlantic Ocean, the era of 1901-1904 mostly coincided with Theodore Roosevelt's first term, a time very eventful both at home and - which is more important to us here - abroad. Having taken over the presidency after being the Vice President to the murdered McKinley for approximately a year, the overactive, charismatic new president's foreign policies in the first term, the continued consolidation of Pacific gains and the revision of Alaska-Canada borders aside, centered chiefly on the Carribean, where he not only worked to generally strenghthen American influence and impose the Platt Amendment (which for all purposes turned Cuba into an American satellite) and - after initially intervenning on the Conservative side in the Colombian Thousand Days War - organizing Panama's peaceful seccession with the subsequent creation of the Canal Zone and beginning of actual work on the Panama Canal to link the Atlantic and the Pacific Oceans - but also, most notably, countered the Germans who, using the Venezuela's Castro regime's failure to pay up debts, begun shelling coastal Venezuelan towns. The Americans had the Germans evicted by threat of force (and Italians and the British as well, but more politely, in part because of Roosevelt's pro-British bias, in part because they didn't go quite as far as the Germans did in their "extraction"). And then Roosevelt forced Cipriano Castro to pay up his debts anyway, but that is beside the point; the point was that America was now following a strong, imperialistic foreign policy, and a very loud one too. Soon after his reelection in 1904, he had officially announced the Roosevelt Corollary to the Monroe Doctrine, quite clearly defining the Western Hemisphere as a sphere of American interest and warning European Great Powers to keep out. This was bad news for Germany; it had gained a formidable opponent and whatever plans it may have entertained for the Carribean had to be scrapped (even though that direction was not of particular importance for Germany).
Back in Europe, it was a comparatively quiet time, even though some political reshuffling - especially in Britain, where the Splendid Isolation, the values of the Victorian Age and the aristocratic political predominance ("Rule of the Patricians") were slowly eroding - took place. Another country saw curious and important developments - Serbia, where the extremelly Austrophilic, autocratic and universally-hated King Aleksandar I was overthrown and brutally slain along with his similarily unpopular queen Draga by a conspiracy of patriotic officers, led by Colonel Dragutin Dimitrijevic (who would eventually found the Black Hand ultranationalist organization that would exercise enormous political influence in Serbia later on) in 1903; as he died heirless, the Obrenovic dynasty was declared overthrown, and in Aleksandar's stead a Karageorgevic, Petar, was crowned King of Serbia, and immediately begun a variety of reforms, turning Serbia into a parliamentary monarchy and breaking with the Austrians, instead seeking Russian support and protesting loudly the Austrian occupation of Bosnia and Herzegovina. Soon enough the tensions gained an economic angle as well, as the Pig War - a tariff war, really - forced the Serbs out of Austrian markets... and into exporting beef to the rest of the Balkans and to Russia, causing Serbia to actually become even less dependant and connected with Austria-Hungary.
In Africa, this was a time of imperial consolidation, defeat of the last native kingdoms - most notably Sokoto which was finally conquered by Britain - and struggle against various rebels; also some border disagreements took place, but these were mostly minor and unnoticed. In Asia, the Chinese government tried to reform again - mostly concentrating on the military - but things remained very much uncertain for it; meanwhile, Russo-Japanese tensions grew rapidly, the interests and influences of both clashing in Manchuria and Korea, and the Japanese still being bitter over their humiliating indiction from Port Arthur by Russia, Germany and France back in 1895. In 1902, the Japanese raided Port Arthur, causing some minor damage, and provoking long, futile negotiations between Russia and Japan; in 1903, the Transsiberian Railroad was finished, and redeployment of additional Russian forces to occupied Manchuria begun...
The years 1904-1906 were of vital importance, as several crucial events took place, and the whole alliance system was seriously overhauled; it is from 1906 that the proper countdown to the eventual Eurasian War should probably begin, as the lines already begun to be drawn then, the cores of the two eventual wartime alliances having been defined. And generally, those were three very eventful years, so perhaps it would be best to start with a brief list of some of the less important events - specifically, the various failed African rebellions (especially the fatal Herero insurrection), the aforementioned Pig War, the separation of Norway from Sweden under Haakon VII, the Anglo-Egyptian acquisition of Sinai from Turkey and the uprisings in Persia with the subsequent adaption of a constitution.
But not much of this was noticed while the Russo-Japanese War and the Moroccan Crisis went on; these events just overshadowed everything else. Let us begin with the Russo-Japanese War itself; the disagreements between the two nations, once near-allies, were numerous, they went from possession of Port Arthur and Russian occupation of Manchuria to fishing boundaries and Japanese advisors at the Korean Emperor's court; yet the focal point was ofcourse the great naval base of Port Arthur, with its great strategic importance for both sides involved. It is apt - and logical, as the Russian Pacific Fleet was based there and nowhere else - that the war should begin with a Battle of Port Arthur. The Japanese surprise night attack allowed them to heavily damage several Russian ships, though the subsequent naval skirmishes were indecisive; the greatest achievement of that attack was, however, that the Russian fleet was at least temporarily forced to the defensive, whilst the Japanese one was free to roam the seas - and transport Japanese forces to various points in Korea, occupying the country and proceeding from it and across the Yalu into Manchuria; immediately after crossing the river, the Japanese won a major, if costly, victory in the Battle at Yalu; they routed the Russian forces there and in several subsequent battles. With naval supremacy and land initiative in their hands, the Japanese under General Nogi hadn't much trouble besieging Port Arthur - surrounding it with minefields and ships and attacking it with troops. Nogi was in luck when first Admiral Makarov and his flagship struck a mine and sunk, completely preventing any offensive Russian naval action, but on the land, though advancing with their numerical supremacy, the Japanese were forced to bleed hard for every inch. But in the end they managed to take up good positions, the 203 Meter Hill from where they were free to bombard the Russian Pacific Fleet with their howitzers. With the elimination of the fleet and the Japanese still advancing, General Stoessel in charge of the garrison panicked in yet another stroke of luck for Nogi, and, despite the fairly good positions for defending the port itself and more than sufficient supplies, surrendered instaed of waiting for reinforcements that were already near.
But no matter Stoessel's actions, the reinforcements did arrive, and the war seemed far from over. In late 1904, after the inconclusive and costly Battle at Shaho, the Japanese drive on Mukden was stopped by the terrible weather; that Manchurian winter was one of the worst for some time; as if the temperatures weren't bad enough, there often enough occured blizzards, in other words, it was not what is usually considered fighting weather, so the Japanese General Oyama had decided to wait the winter out and also give Nogi time to link up with him for a decisive offensive towards Mukden. Thinking fighting in such weather impossible, the Japanese soldiers didn't bother to prepare any proper defensive positions and were ripe for picking, though ofcourse the Russian commanders scarcely knew of this. Alexei Kuropatkin, the Russian commander-in-chief in Manchuria, was a very cautious man and argued consistantly against any risky offensives, but General Oskar-Ferdinand Kazimirovich Grippenberg, commander of the Russian Second Army, finally managed to persuade Kuropatkin to allow him to launch a limited offensive against the Japanese left flank, at Sandepu. Against all expectations, the attack was a complete success - the unprepared Japanese, despite occasionally putting up very fierce resistance, were mostly routed, the left flank falling back in disarray. After weighing all pros and cons, Kuropatkin decided to follow this victory up with a general offensive against the Japanese center. By now aware of the left flank's grim fate, the stronger Japanese forces in the center, at Sandepu itself, naturally put up a fiercer fight, but being outflanked they too were eventually overwhelmed; attempts to retreat under Russian pursuit resulted in even more panic, especially after several units, whether out of their own accord or due to being outmaneuvered, stood and fought instead of falling back; in the end the planned orderly retreat turned into a chaotic, panicked rout, and the Russian winter offensive proved a total success, Oyama's forces shattered decisively. Moving forward, the Russians intercepted and defeated Nogi as well, though his was a more orderly retreat; in any case, however, by the time the spring came the Japanese were largely forced back into Korea and Port Arthur, and in the former there already begun anti-Japanese rebellions, whilst first Russian units crossed the Yalu. Not all went well for the Russians, however; the initial assault on Port Arthur was forced back, and also, on the sea, after an odyssey around half the Old World, the Russian Baltic Fleet sent to relieve Port Arthur a while ago was defeated badly at Tsushima.
But this naval victory was a very limited success, as Japan was faced by an economical and political crisis; the war had badly overstrained Japan's economy, and consequently, the conservative Prime Minister Katsura Taro resigned and his pro-war government fell; instead, the anti-war liberal Saionji Kinmochi became Prime Minister, and begun making inroads for peace. In the meantime, riots occured in Russian cities; Russia's economy was also affected by the war, though not quite as badly as the Japanese one, and the conscription was very unpopular. Lastly, the British begun making threatening gestures; though they did not join into the war on the behalf of their Japanese allies, perhaps in part to avoid antagonizing the French with whom they recently signed a treaty of Entente Cordiale, that option was still open, or at the very least the British were more than willing to rectify Japan's financial problems, and also put pressure on Russia. In other words, everything pointed towards a negotiated compromise peace; as turmoil spread in the countryside, the Tsar, despite his initial reluctance, eventually caved in.
Theodore Roosevelt was quick to jump into all this and promised to help intermediate a peace treaty on neutral ground, in Portsmouth, New Hampshire. Though only the Russian, the Japanese and the American representatives were invited, the British inevitably also begun to meddle in the negotiations, seeking to limit Russian gains as much as possible. Initially Nicholas II wanted direct and official control over Manchuria, Port Arthur, Korea and the Kurils, and in addition to that, restrictions on the Japanese military and war indimnities from Japan. Obviously enough that was a bit too much, and in the end, a compromise was reached - not a one Nicholas II particularily liked, but a barely acceptable one at least. Russia got to formally annex Manchuria, and Japan dropped all claims to Port Arthur whatsoever. By a separate protocol with Britain, Outer Mongolia and Sinkiang were recognized as Russian spheres of influence, in exchange for recognition of Tibet as within the British sphere. All Japanese advisors were evicted from Korea, which recovered full independence under the Gwangmu Emperor, although it did have to sign several agreements with Russia (yet in general, it remained a neutral, semi-buffer state; thanks to the Gwangmu Emperor's wise policies, Korea soon entered a sadly-brief era of independence, peace and prosperity as foreign investment and trade flowed in). Japan was forced to pay out some war indemnities to Rusisa, but mostly nominal ones.
Whilst Korea was, in a way, one of the biggest benefiters by gaining its independence, and America also clearly won from this, gaining greatly in prestige and winning allies in British, Russian, Korean and Japanese political circles (especially the Japanese ones; this and the rise of American-Japanese trade later into the decade was the beginning of the Americano-Japanese friendship, though the Americans weren't really willing to go as far as to sign an alliance), all the other great powers were also affected by this, and often enough it was unclear whether the effect was positive or negative.
Of immediate importance are the changes in Japan and Russia. In the former, on one hand, the liberals scored a significant political victory; on the other, revanchism was quick to appear. Japan defeat in Manchuria caused it to rely more on its alliance with Britain, which was expanded further; likewise, Saionji Kinmochi, a friend of Clemenceau's, fostered good relations with France. This line was pursued both out of ideological affinity and for more practical reasons - French relations with Russia detiriorated badly and bilaterally for a variety of reasons, while Britain was more concerned about the growth of Russian power in Asia than ever before - thus obviously, both Britain and France were Japan's natural allies against Russia; Kinmochi recognized the importance of checking the Russian power somehow.
In the latter, after the circumcised victory over Japan and the violent reprisals against the various revolutionary groups, as already mentioned, relations with France and Britain detiriorated. The former was increasingly disliked for failing to support Russia in any way during the war and for allying with Britain, which, in turn, consistantly acted to check Russian expansion and which (partially) stole the victory over Japan; indeed, both Britain and France were considered to be cowardly, treacherous and manipulative, striving to deny Russia its greatness. In France, meanwhile, outrage over the brutal Russian subjugation of the various rebels - both the socialists and the Polish/Finnish nationalists - grew, and infiltrated the circles of the political elite; and generally, foreign minister Theophile Delcasse favoured Britain rather than Russia. Though the Franco-Russian alliance wasn't abolished, it seemed deader by the day, especially after Nicholas II's personal meeting with Wilhelm II at Bjorko in Finland; the treaty of friendship signed there wasn't taken very seriously at first, but in fact it was quite important; Wilhelm II, acting with uncharacteristic tact and adroitness, fueled Nicholas II's growing Francophobia and explained to him that the French were against him, that they were behind all those risings, that he - Nicholas II - could only trust him - Wilhelm II - in this harsh and treacherous world (well, he ofcourse didn't say exactly that, but that was the spirit of his speech); and Nicholas II increasingly trusted his cousin. The Russo-German reconciliation was also in part preconditioned by general Russian distraction from Europe and attraction to Asia, where the Great Game resumed and Russia stood poised to take over vast landmasses from Persia to Mongolia. As long as Russia concentrated on Asian expansion, its interests didn't clash with the German ones - and clashed ever more with those of Britain and to a lesser extent France, the two powers that were clearly working against Germany.
The lines were drawn in 1906. For nearly a century now, Morocco escaped potential French domination by recruiting British assistance, but now that Britain and France were close allies, and the British officially gave France a free hand in Morocco, the French quickly moved to strenghthen their positions there. However, while Britain (and Spain, which was promised the Rif Mountains and lands north, and Italy, which by a secret treaty was promised diplomatical French support for any effort to acquire Cyreneica and/or Tripolitania) may have supported and even endorsed this, Germany, quite predictably, opposed any French encroachment on Moroccan independence; this also had much to do with the fact that German investments were pouring into Morocco as of late. So in 1905, Kaiser Wilhelm II arrived in Tangier and there affirmed his support for Moroccan independence. As one might expect, the French protested this meddling within their sphere of influence; a furious and futile diplomatic debate ensued, while at some point both Germany and France nearly launched mobilizations. In the end, the issue was settled by an international conference at Algeciras; though Germany was supported by Austria-Hungary and (much to Delcasse's dismay) Russia, everybody else, including the representatives sent by Roosevelt had imposed a compromise with some nominal French concessions and a guarantee of the safety of German - and other foreign - investments. French influence over Morocco was there to stay, and plans were already made for an eventual protectorate.
War was avoided - not that it was terribly likely back then anyway. But already in 1906, the two alliances formed; United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland, Third Republic of France and the Empire of Japan had officially created the Entente Alliance, whilst the Second Reich, the Russian and the Austrian-Hungarian Empires, despite past and continued disagreements (especially in the Balkans, where the Russians and the Germans had to persuade the Austro-Hungarians to stop their tariff war, which failed anyway as already mentioned; nonetheless, ofcourse, Austria-Hungary still had pretty bad relations with Serbia, and suspicious of Russia even as the latter concentrated its attention on Asian expansion as opposed to a Balkans-first foreign policies), revived the Dreikaiserbund. Italy, having ominously opposed German meddling in Morocco, did not join the Entente, and remained part of the past Triple Alliance; but the one thing that was certain was that Italy was still aligned with "sacred egoism" and its own interests - and at the moment the Italian politicians saw their interests to be served best by working with Britain and France.
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Regeneration In Process
Almost from the start, one of the key issues between the two blocks was the Chinese one. All the three Entente powers maintained considerable presences and influence in China, especially in the southern regions; although Japan was pushed out of Korea and prevented from taking Port Arthur, this proved a blessing in disguise for its Chinese influence, as the Japanese now concentrated on China Proper and its small, yet prospering sphere of influence on the other side of the Formosa Strait, in the province of Fukien. The reviving Japanese economy soon begun to infiltrate China further, in concert with Birtain (which had longstanding interests and influences in China) and France (which ); the three powers also begun to push forward an agenda of liberal reforms in China, gaining allies amongst China's more progressive politicians - but dangerously antagonizing the conservatives and the Dowager Empress Longyu herself. Soon, the Entente found itself challenged by the Dreikaiserbund in the region; Russia vigorously asserted its spheres of influence, while the German advisors begun to appear in great number in Beijing, helping the Qing with their military reforms, and the German industrialists and businessmen assisted the Chinese industrialization (having been frustrated in its American and African ambitions, Germany quite naturally turned to Asia and there immediately found a golden opportunity). Alarmed at the prospects of a reformed, but pro-German Qing state, the Entente powers soon begun to work increasingly against the the Imperial Court, fostering dissent and destabilizing the empire, helped in this by the Empire's financial weakness and the disagreements between the reactionaries and the reformists of various factions in the highest echelons of power. Dissent indeed grew, and the situation soon became explosive...
But before a climax could happen in China, its events were briefly overshadowed by the happenings elsewhere in the world; while China simmered, the Balkans were already aflame. Though not quite as bad off as the Qing Empire, the Ottomans were in crisis; having with a degree of success defended the grater part of the Ottoman territory from external enemies and local separatists, Abdulhamid II was still haunted by the ghost of the constitution that he had suspended back in 1878. Conspiracy after conspiracy of constitutionalists was foiled, but nonetheless, their ideas only spread further. For a long time Abdulhamid II's regime was succesfully defended by his army, but eventually the Ottoman officers also were corrupted by the liberal ideals of the Paris-based Committee of Union and Progress. Finally, in 1908 parts of the Turkish 3rd Army Corps in Macedonia mutinied; unable to rely on other troops, Abdulhamid had to look on in powerless rage as the rebellion spread like wildfire; it was temporarily stopped when the Sultan declared the constitution restored, and rescinded censorship, disbanded the secret police and released the political prisoners. However, the Sultan himself was allowed to remain at first, although many members of the newly-assembled cabinet suspected that he was now conspiring against them. In the 31st March Incident of 1909, a reactionary counter-revolution took place, though Abdulhamid was careful enough to avoid fully embracing it even as the elected government fled for Salonika; a wise move, it nevertheless failed to save Abdulhamid's power when a few days later the CUP forces retook Constantinople. Abdulhamid II was forced to abdicate and was exiled to Salonika, while his brother Mehmed V came to "power" - a nonentity fit for a parliamentary monarchy. A CUP-dominated government was formed; and, as usual, having climbed to the top, the conspirators that succesfully gained power in their country suddenly noticed the threats all around them.
The 1908 mutiny provoked a chain of events, and not only domestic Turkish ones. Seeing that Turkey was as weak as ever, Austria-Hungary officially annexed Bosnia and Herzegovina, almost provoking a war with Serbia but for Russian and German pressure; after some negotiations, Serbia agreed to abandon its claims on Bosnia-Herzegovina, in exchange for Austrian forces vacating the Sanjak of Novipazar (as they had intended anyway)... and allowing Serbia a free hand there, while the provisional government of Crete had unofficially accepted the union with Greece; having gained the Entente's support, the Cretan provisional ruler Eleftharios Venizelos triumphantly declared Crete's annexation into Greece, this diplomatic victory greatly assisting his political career back in Greece. The Ottomans were too busy overthrowing each other to do anything but protest, rather quietly at that. Meanwhile, things only got worse and worse - Serbian forces occupied Novipazar, while Ferdinand of Bulgaria declared himself Tsar and in this manner ended even the official Bulgarian submission to Turkish rule, though for all purposes Bulgaria was independent for some time now. When the CUP was secure enough domestically to start complaining about this, it immediately learned that it was virtually isolated; both the Dreikaiserbund and the Entente had, to a certain extent, supported one Balkanian landgrabber or another. Russia was predictably especially angry at the Ottomans; by contrast, the Italians were oddly quiet, because they were preparing to attack in a year or two, having long ago reached a secret agreement with the Entente leadership in exchange for supporting France in Morocco.
In 1910, the Italian plans were sped up by a conservative separatist rebellion in Albania. Ottoman authority there collapsed, although almost immediately after the Ottoman forces were sent in - the CUP was determined to hold on to Albania, as its loss was likely to trigger a similar collapse of authority in Macedonia. However, by invading Albania they made a pretty risky move; negotiations would've been viewed as a sign of weakness, but a military defeat there would have meant inevitable and ignominous loss of the Balkans. Fortunately, the Albanian tribesmen didn't make for very intimidating enemies. Unfortunately - at least as far as the collapsing, outdated, poorly-led Ottoman army was concerned - the Italian expeditionary corps was good enough to stop the Ottomans in their tracks. A day earlier, Italy declared war on the Ottoman Empire, in the support of the Albanian rebels, whose leadership had, after some quick negotiations, reached an accord with Italy. Already, Emanuele Filiberto - the cousin of King Vittorio Emanuele III - had arrived, taking personal command of the army that he would need to defend his future kingdom. Meanwhile, the undergarrisoned Tripoli was captured, and the Italian invasion of Libya had commenced as well. Ottoman attempts to muster some support against Italy proved futile; the CUP regime was lonely and isolated. If anything, soon things got even worse - while the Ottomans and the Italians skirmished back and forth in central Albania, the Balkan League of Montenegro, Serbia, Bulgaria and Greece was assembled, shouted in chorus about national self-determination and charged in, to support the various ethnic rebellions all over Macedonia. Within months, Serbs were in Skopje, Greeks were besieging Salonika and the Bulgarian soldiers washed their boots in the Aegean Sea, although they also experienced a sharp debacle at Edrine, where the Ottomans finally found a competent commander in their rank, one Mustafa Kemal, who had succesfully fought back the Bulgarians and thus saved a large part of Thrace for the Ottomans. But elsewhere it was a disaster, especially after the Ottoman army in Albania surrendered at Elbasan, after the Balkanian armies severed its supply route. In 1911, despite some local resistance, the Italians secured much of coastal Libya. The Greek naval detachment rampaged through the Aegean Sea unchallenged, capturing the Ottoman-held Greek islands there; in Rhodes, however, an independent Federation of the Dodecanese was set up, and the Greeks had to temporarily abandon their designs there due to British support for the new state (in exchange for bases, naturally).
So in early 1911, the Ottoman government, after being stunningly and thoroughly routed everywhere but in Thrace, had agreed to end the First Balkan War. The Treaty of Edirne saw the creation of an independent Kingdom of Albania under Emanuele I and in alliance with Italy (Albania however had to give up a small southern slice of its territory to Greece, and a smaller one in the north to Montenegro). Italian protectorates were set up in Tripolitania, Cyreneica and Fezzan, though it would take some more fighting for the natives to be defeated. The Dodecanese Federation's independence was recognized, all other Aegean islands joined Greece, and Crete was also recognized as Greek. Macedonia was partitioned between Serbia (northwest, including Skopje), Greece (south, including Salonika) and Bulgaria (east, plus an outlet to the Aegean Sea and a few border regions of Thrace). Ottoman Empire only retained Constantinople and much of Thrace - including Edirne itself - in Europe. The new CUP government was granted official recognition, for all the good that did it - discredited by the defeat, the CUP party was forced by its political opponents to hold elections in 1912, which resulted in a disastrous defeat and a Liberal Union takeover. At first, the Young Turk officers rallied around Enver Pasha and prepared a coup; in the absence of military support, the Liberal Union government would have been helpless, had not Enver Pasha been betrayed by Djemal Pasha and Mustafa Kemal, who had feared that the coup would result in further instability and possibly civil war, something the Ottoman Empire could ill afford even in its better days. Enver Pasha's coup attempt was defeated and the more moderate CUP members joined the ruling coalition, still using their control of the military as a lever with which to move the government's opinions if other methods of persuasion failed. The Ottomans begun looking for allies; the Russo-German alliance left them with only one option. The Ottoman Empire didn't officially join the Entente, but French investments immediately begun to arrive, while British military specialists helped reform the army (now under authority of Turkey's only war hero, Minister of War Mustafa Kemal) and build up a more decent navy as well. Reconciling with Greece was rather harder, but an alliance of convenience against Bulgaria wasn't out of question...
And by then, ofcourse, China blew up too, and as already became custom, when things went badly in the Ottoman Empire, they went VERY badly in the Qing one. After years of simmering dissent, a spontaneous uprising in the Guangdong Province in 1912 triggered the beginning of rebellions elsewhere in southern and central China. The military mutinied, the peasants rebelled, students and workers rose up in the cities and - with some clandestine Entente assistance - several local administrators surrendered without a fight, and several southern provinces declared the Qing Dynasty overthrown. After the initial confusion and chaos, the Chinese Revolutionary Alliance, headed by Sun Yat-sen, Song Jiaoren and Huang Xing; although there were some disagreements between them, especially between Sun Yat-sen and Huang Xiang, the former was soon elected as China's first, albeit provisional, president and ordered that a National Assembly be assembled in Nanjing. The provisional government then proposed that the Dowager Empress Longyu abdicate in the Xuantong Emperor's name. That was when the Revolutionary Alliance's luck had ran out.
Ever indecisive and easy to influence, the Dowager Empress consulted the Regent Zaifeng, and then consulted the German advisors, and then, already at their advice, recalled Yuan Shikei from his honorary exile in his home village, and appointed him Prime Minister. Then she consulted him, and he consulted the German advisors, and, after receiving the guarantee of Regent Zaifeng's abstention from practical politics (with the Regent out of his way and the Dowager Empress as weak and easy to influence as usual, Yuan Shikei became the de facto absolute ruler of Qing China), formed his new cabinet and begun sending orders and taking measures. On the next day - if you're wondering, on July 19th of the year 1912 - the world, or at least China, was shaken by a flurry of news, bad news for the revolution. Yuan Shikei was appointed Prime Minister in Beijing; the Dowager Empress rejected the "Act of Abdication of the Emperor of the Great Qing"; the Chinese Empire signed alliances with Russia, Germany and Austria-Hungary (though contrary to popular beliefs, the Dreikaiserbund was NOT renamed to Vierkaiserbund on this occasion); an ultimatum was issued by Yuan Shikei, demanding that the Nanjing government surrender and that all the southern provinces return into the fold, while the rebel leaders present themselves for trial (though the lesser leaders were promised amnesty, and it was hinted for the senior ones as well); the promised constitution was postponed indefinitely; and lastly, not waiting for Sun Yat-sen's reply to the ultimatum, Yuan Shikei ordered that the Beiyang Army - the strongest army in China, loyal only to the new Prime Minister - set out in four columns each commanded by one of his most trusted lieutenants, to crush the rebellion with blood and iron. The Chinese Civil War was on, the Nanjing government rejecting the ultimatum in a brave and insane act of defiance.
At the outset of the conflict, to an untrained eye the Qing seemed doomed - with scarcely any popular support, an oversized empire bursting at the seams and two-thirds of China Proper already lost. And indeed, they were doomed but for the Beiyang Army, which, however, was in itself powerful enough to be a kingmaker, or rather, to make its father Yuan Shikei the kingmaker (or maybe the emperormaker or the presidentmaker is a better term? Nah.). Even in normal times, it was the largest, the best-led, the best-equipped and the best-trained army in China - a peer for the armies of some of the European great powers, especially after it was reformed even further with German assistance. Most other armies defected to the revolutionaries, and they now had numerical supremacy... mostly on paper, as for years now, all of China's armies but the Beiyang Army gradually disintegrated. The already-high desertion rates jumped up even higher after the revolution. Add to this the facts that some officers had to be killed or were killed accidentally anyway, that storages of weapons, ammunition and supplies were frequently looted during the first few chaotic days of the revolution, and that disciplinne and organization were practically nonexistant even in those units still intact... and the revolutionaries are immediately the ones that seem doomed.
However, they weren't doomed neither; they too had aces up their sleeves. As soon as Sun Yat-sen begun to suspect that Yuan Shikei might side with the Imperial Court rather than with the nascent Republic of China, he begun working feverishly to organize some sort of defenses. Even as he ordered the mobilization of the militias and the reorganization of the remaining republican armed forces, he knew that the Republic was doomed without some sort of foreign assistance - and it was obvious that such assistance could be found in the Entente. Though both France and Britain refused to intervenne directly, citing the German alliance with Yuan Shikei (which they ofcourse previously protested, but in the end failed to act against it, neither country feeling ready for a clash with Germany), they agreed to assist the Republic in various indirect ways - weapons, funds, supplies, military advisors, intelligence and so forth. Japan offered all of this too, but also went further then that, commiting several divisions worth of "volunteers" to help the Republic on the battlefield. Grateful, Sun Yat-sen set about to create create a new "Republican Army" with the help of the aforementioned advisors; with great haste, an ersatz military academy was set up in Nanjing, and the preparation of a new officer corps begun, while recruitment offices were activated throughout the controlled territories. The Republicans had hoped to win time for the creation of this army by fighting a delaying action north of the Yangtze, but things there went beyond Sun Yat-sen's worst nightmares. Though slowed down by guerrila activities and logistical problems, the Beiyang Army defeated its opponents in battle after battle with disappointing ease. When Huang Xing, the Republic's most formidable military commander (admittedly, the early Republican military leadership wasn't a paragon of military brilliance, generally-speaking...), was defeated and killed in the Battle at Shangqiu and his army, possibly the best of those that the Republicans managed to salvage from the defecting elements of the Chinese army, literally fell apart leaving only a few ragtag militia garrisons and reservists between Duan Qirui's Beiyang column and the Yangtze's delta, the Republican leadership simply panicked, and,a fter some debate, ordered a levee en masse, in a desperate effort very similar to that of Revolutionary France in 1793.
In late 1912/early 1913, luck seemingly smiled on the Republic. Having outran his supply routes and exhausted his troops in forced march, Duan Qirui had to stop his advance and make camp near Taizhou, less than 20 miles away from the Yangtze. Having learned of this, the Republicans immediately decided to seize upon this opportunity. Though the hordes of levied conscripts were undisciplinned and often untrained, and Li Yuanhong, their commander, wasn't particularily skilled, they had a vast numerical advantage and also something of a surprise effect; Duan Qirui simply wasn't ready for such a massive assault. Perhaps more important was the involvement of the Japanese "volunteers" in this Battle at Taizhou. In any case, after a brutal battle, Duan Qirui's forces were simply overwhelmed by superior numbers and fell back in considerable disarray, though Duan Qirui managed to salvage parts of his force and succesfully fell back towards Xuzhou. Though the rest of the Beiyang Army still pressed on, the myth of its invincibility was broken, and the immediate threat to Nanjing was removed. More good news came when the Beiyang Army stumbled again in Spring 1913 due to fierce resistance (and modern weaponry) of the Chengdu garrison; eventually, the city was captured, but with heavy casualties. These minor victories were good for the morale, while some of the Republicans in northern China Proper got bold enough to use this opportunity to rise up in arms. Several other rebellions, both in China Proper and the outer areas, followed this up, although they were harshly suppressed by the remaining garrison forces and, further north, by Russian troops; the rebellion near Beijing itself was put down with the help of the newly-arrived German expeditionary corps ("China-Korps"), led by General Erich von Falkenhayn.
The rest of 1913 went by indecisively, as the Qing forces recovered their balance, consolidated their gains and repaired their supply routes. Despite the several aforementioned setbacks, they ended the year predominant north of the Yangtze. In early 1914, the Republicans launched a preemptive offensive across the central Yangtze, culminating in battles at Chongqing and at Shashi, both of which the Republicans had lost; the Beiyang forces immediately used the opportunity to invade the Hunan Province, distracting the enemy attention there while Duan Qirui (who had received his chance to redeem his past defeat) and von Falkenhayn counterattacked in the Anhui and Jiangsu provinces lost back in 1913. The Beiyang Army was good; but the China-Korps was even better, and von Falkenhayn was an excellent commander as well. Despite this, von Falkenhayn's force was mostly held back in reserve while the two provinces were being overran. They were being saved for the moment when the Yangtze needed to be crossed. Long story cut short, Falkenhayn's elite troops forced a crossing, routing a numerically-superior Chinese force and capturing Zhenjiang. Two days later, Nanjing was already besieged, and all seemed bleak for the Republic.
Nevertheless, it didn't surrender. Sun Yat-sen had remained in the city and, despite his lack of military prowess, personally set about to organize the defenses, mobilizing a large percentage of the city's population - if not to fight, then to treat the wounded or deliver supplies or something. Barricades and machine gun nests were set up, while the local militias were beign drilled by those of the Japanese volunteers trapped in the city. Meanwhile, Sun Yat-sen's protege rising star commander General Chiang Kai-shek took charge of the relief forces amassing outside. Knowing that he needed to win fast, von Falkenhayn ordered a general assault...
What resulted was a bloody, gritty, epic battle - an excellent demonstration of the modern world's technological advances that greatly sped up the process of bilateral manslaughter, a classical urban battle. Parts of the city were utterly ruined - first by the artillery shelling, and then by the urban fighting. The streets were red with blood, and it took weeks to dispose of all the corpses and the bodyparts. Sun Yat-sen's forces were gradually forced back, deeper into the city, but they fought for every inch, while von Falkenhayn and Duan Qirui kept throwing more and more troops into the fray. But in the end, Sun Yat-sen held out, just barely; having suffered unacceptably high losses and been attacked by Chiang Kai-shek's troops, the Germano-Qing forces staged an orderly fighting retreat back across the Yangtze, defeating Chiang Kai-shek's pursuit attempt as if to say that this was not yet over.
This was not yet over; neither side proved capable to break the other in 1914, as Feng Guozhang was likewise forced to fall back from Hunan, albeit mostly because of his untenable strategic position and the accomplishment of his limited (diversionary) objectives, his army having tactically carried the field. War died down, with the River Yangtze becoming the frontline, the Qing reigning more or less secure to its north and the Republic generally safe in the south, having won enough time to organize a new military capable of, at least, holding its ground. Both sides exchanged local offensives, raids and skirmishes in 1916, but apart from minor Republican gains in the Sichuan Province (the only region where the front didn't coincide with the river at the moment), it didn't change much. Yuan Shikei used this time to raise more troops and further consolidate his power in China Proper and Inner Mongolia, appointing loyal friends and lackeys to positions of power and crushing resistance. China was in stalemate, but such situations rarely last long in the modern world.
But before a climax could happen in China, its events were briefly overshadowed by the happenings elsewhere in the world; while China simmered, the Balkans were already aflame. Though not quite as bad off as the Qing Empire, the Ottomans were in crisis; having with a degree of success defended the grater part of the Ottoman territory from external enemies and local separatists, Abdulhamid II was still haunted by the ghost of the constitution that he had suspended back in 1878. Conspiracy after conspiracy of constitutionalists was foiled, but nonetheless, their ideas only spread further. For a long time Abdulhamid II's regime was succesfully defended by his army, but eventually the Ottoman officers also were corrupted by the liberal ideals of the Paris-based Committee of Union and Progress. Finally, in 1908 parts of the Turkish 3rd Army Corps in Macedonia mutinied; unable to rely on other troops, Abdulhamid had to look on in powerless rage as the rebellion spread like wildfire; it was temporarily stopped when the Sultan declared the constitution restored, and rescinded censorship, disbanded the secret police and released the political prisoners. However, the Sultan himself was allowed to remain at first, although many members of the newly-assembled cabinet suspected that he was now conspiring against them. In the 31st March Incident of 1909, a reactionary counter-revolution took place, though Abdulhamid was careful enough to avoid fully embracing it even as the elected government fled for Salonika; a wise move, it nevertheless failed to save Abdulhamid's power when a few days later the CUP forces retook Constantinople. Abdulhamid II was forced to abdicate and was exiled to Salonika, while his brother Mehmed V came to "power" - a nonentity fit for a parliamentary monarchy. A CUP-dominated government was formed; and, as usual, having climbed to the top, the conspirators that succesfully gained power in their country suddenly noticed the threats all around them.
The 1908 mutiny provoked a chain of events, and not only domestic Turkish ones. Seeing that Turkey was as weak as ever, Austria-Hungary officially annexed Bosnia and Herzegovina, almost provoking a war with Serbia but for Russian and German pressure; after some negotiations, Serbia agreed to abandon its claims on Bosnia-Herzegovina, in exchange for Austrian forces vacating the Sanjak of Novipazar (as they had intended anyway)... and allowing Serbia a free hand there, while the provisional government of Crete had unofficially accepted the union with Greece; having gained the Entente's support, the Cretan provisional ruler Eleftharios Venizelos triumphantly declared Crete's annexation into Greece, this diplomatic victory greatly assisting his political career back in Greece. The Ottomans were too busy overthrowing each other to do anything but protest, rather quietly at that. Meanwhile, things only got worse and worse - Serbian forces occupied Novipazar, while Ferdinand of Bulgaria declared himself Tsar and in this manner ended even the official Bulgarian submission to Turkish rule, though for all purposes Bulgaria was independent for some time now. When the CUP was secure enough domestically to start complaining about this, it immediately learned that it was virtually isolated; both the Dreikaiserbund and the Entente had, to a certain extent, supported one Balkanian landgrabber or another. Russia was predictably especially angry at the Ottomans; by contrast, the Italians were oddly quiet, because they were preparing to attack in a year or two, having long ago reached a secret agreement with the Entente leadership in exchange for supporting France in Morocco.
In 1910, the Italian plans were sped up by a conservative separatist rebellion in Albania. Ottoman authority there collapsed, although almost immediately after the Ottoman forces were sent in - the CUP was determined to hold on to Albania, as its loss was likely to trigger a similar collapse of authority in Macedonia. However, by invading Albania they made a pretty risky move; negotiations would've been viewed as a sign of weakness, but a military defeat there would have meant inevitable and ignominous loss of the Balkans. Fortunately, the Albanian tribesmen didn't make for very intimidating enemies. Unfortunately - at least as far as the collapsing, outdated, poorly-led Ottoman army was concerned - the Italian expeditionary corps was good enough to stop the Ottomans in their tracks. A day earlier, Italy declared war on the Ottoman Empire, in the support of the Albanian rebels, whose leadership had, after some quick negotiations, reached an accord with Italy. Already, Emanuele Filiberto - the cousin of King Vittorio Emanuele III - had arrived, taking personal command of the army that he would need to defend his future kingdom. Meanwhile, the undergarrisoned Tripoli was captured, and the Italian invasion of Libya had commenced as well. Ottoman attempts to muster some support against Italy proved futile; the CUP regime was lonely and isolated. If anything, soon things got even worse - while the Ottomans and the Italians skirmished back and forth in central Albania, the Balkan League of Montenegro, Serbia, Bulgaria and Greece was assembled, shouted in chorus about national self-determination and charged in, to support the various ethnic rebellions all over Macedonia. Within months, Serbs were in Skopje, Greeks were besieging Salonika and the Bulgarian soldiers washed their boots in the Aegean Sea, although they also experienced a sharp debacle at Edrine, where the Ottomans finally found a competent commander in their rank, one Mustafa Kemal, who had succesfully fought back the Bulgarians and thus saved a large part of Thrace for the Ottomans. But elsewhere it was a disaster, especially after the Ottoman army in Albania surrendered at Elbasan, after the Balkanian armies severed its supply route. In 1911, despite some local resistance, the Italians secured much of coastal Libya. The Greek naval detachment rampaged through the Aegean Sea unchallenged, capturing the Ottoman-held Greek islands there; in Rhodes, however, an independent Federation of the Dodecanese was set up, and the Greeks had to temporarily abandon their designs there due to British support for the new state (in exchange for bases, naturally).
So in early 1911, the Ottoman government, after being stunningly and thoroughly routed everywhere but in Thrace, had agreed to end the First Balkan War. The Treaty of Edirne saw the creation of an independent Kingdom of Albania under Emanuele I and in alliance with Italy (Albania however had to give up a small southern slice of its territory to Greece, and a smaller one in the north to Montenegro). Italian protectorates were set up in Tripolitania, Cyreneica and Fezzan, though it would take some more fighting for the natives to be defeated. The Dodecanese Federation's independence was recognized, all other Aegean islands joined Greece, and Crete was also recognized as Greek. Macedonia was partitioned between Serbia (northwest, including Skopje), Greece (south, including Salonika) and Bulgaria (east, plus an outlet to the Aegean Sea and a few border regions of Thrace). Ottoman Empire only retained Constantinople and much of Thrace - including Edirne itself - in Europe. The new CUP government was granted official recognition, for all the good that did it - discredited by the defeat, the CUP party was forced by its political opponents to hold elections in 1912, which resulted in a disastrous defeat and a Liberal Union takeover. At first, the Young Turk officers rallied around Enver Pasha and prepared a coup; in the absence of military support, the Liberal Union government would have been helpless, had not Enver Pasha been betrayed by Djemal Pasha and Mustafa Kemal, who had feared that the coup would result in further instability and possibly civil war, something the Ottoman Empire could ill afford even in its better days. Enver Pasha's coup attempt was defeated and the more moderate CUP members joined the ruling coalition, still using their control of the military as a lever with which to move the government's opinions if other methods of persuasion failed. The Ottomans begun looking for allies; the Russo-German alliance left them with only one option. The Ottoman Empire didn't officially join the Entente, but French investments immediately begun to arrive, while British military specialists helped reform the army (now under authority of Turkey's only war hero, Minister of War Mustafa Kemal) and build up a more decent navy as well. Reconciling with Greece was rather harder, but an alliance of convenience against Bulgaria wasn't out of question...
And by then, ofcourse, China blew up too, and as already became custom, when things went badly in the Ottoman Empire, they went VERY badly in the Qing one. After years of simmering dissent, a spontaneous uprising in the Guangdong Province in 1912 triggered the beginning of rebellions elsewhere in southern and central China. The military mutinied, the peasants rebelled, students and workers rose up in the cities and - with some clandestine Entente assistance - several local administrators surrendered without a fight, and several southern provinces declared the Qing Dynasty overthrown. After the initial confusion and chaos, the Chinese Revolutionary Alliance, headed by Sun Yat-sen, Song Jiaoren and Huang Xing; although there were some disagreements between them, especially between Sun Yat-sen and Huang Xiang, the former was soon elected as China's first, albeit provisional, president and ordered that a National Assembly be assembled in Nanjing. The provisional government then proposed that the Dowager Empress Longyu abdicate in the Xuantong Emperor's name. That was when the Revolutionary Alliance's luck had ran out.
Ever indecisive and easy to influence, the Dowager Empress consulted the Regent Zaifeng, and then consulted the German advisors, and then, already at their advice, recalled Yuan Shikei from his honorary exile in his home village, and appointed him Prime Minister. Then she consulted him, and he consulted the German advisors, and, after receiving the guarantee of Regent Zaifeng's abstention from practical politics (with the Regent out of his way and the Dowager Empress as weak and easy to influence as usual, Yuan Shikei became the de facto absolute ruler of Qing China), formed his new cabinet and begun sending orders and taking measures. On the next day - if you're wondering, on July 19th of the year 1912 - the world, or at least China, was shaken by a flurry of news, bad news for the revolution. Yuan Shikei was appointed Prime Minister in Beijing; the Dowager Empress rejected the "Act of Abdication of the Emperor of the Great Qing"; the Chinese Empire signed alliances with Russia, Germany and Austria-Hungary (though contrary to popular beliefs, the Dreikaiserbund was NOT renamed to Vierkaiserbund on this occasion); an ultimatum was issued by Yuan Shikei, demanding that the Nanjing government surrender and that all the southern provinces return into the fold, while the rebel leaders present themselves for trial (though the lesser leaders were promised amnesty, and it was hinted for the senior ones as well); the promised constitution was postponed indefinitely; and lastly, not waiting for Sun Yat-sen's reply to the ultimatum, Yuan Shikei ordered that the Beiyang Army - the strongest army in China, loyal only to the new Prime Minister - set out in four columns each commanded by one of his most trusted lieutenants, to crush the rebellion with blood and iron. The Chinese Civil War was on, the Nanjing government rejecting the ultimatum in a brave and insane act of defiance.
At the outset of the conflict, to an untrained eye the Qing seemed doomed - with scarcely any popular support, an oversized empire bursting at the seams and two-thirds of China Proper already lost. And indeed, they were doomed but for the Beiyang Army, which, however, was in itself powerful enough to be a kingmaker, or rather, to make its father Yuan Shikei the kingmaker (or maybe the emperormaker or the presidentmaker is a better term? Nah.). Even in normal times, it was the largest, the best-led, the best-equipped and the best-trained army in China - a peer for the armies of some of the European great powers, especially after it was reformed even further with German assistance. Most other armies defected to the revolutionaries, and they now had numerical supremacy... mostly on paper, as for years now, all of China's armies but the Beiyang Army gradually disintegrated. The already-high desertion rates jumped up even higher after the revolution. Add to this the facts that some officers had to be killed or were killed accidentally anyway, that storages of weapons, ammunition and supplies were frequently looted during the first few chaotic days of the revolution, and that disciplinne and organization were practically nonexistant even in those units still intact... and the revolutionaries are immediately the ones that seem doomed.
However, they weren't doomed neither; they too had aces up their sleeves. As soon as Sun Yat-sen begun to suspect that Yuan Shikei might side with the Imperial Court rather than with the nascent Republic of China, he begun working feverishly to organize some sort of defenses. Even as he ordered the mobilization of the militias and the reorganization of the remaining republican armed forces, he knew that the Republic was doomed without some sort of foreign assistance - and it was obvious that such assistance could be found in the Entente. Though both France and Britain refused to intervenne directly, citing the German alliance with Yuan Shikei (which they ofcourse previously protested, but in the end failed to act against it, neither country feeling ready for a clash with Germany), they agreed to assist the Republic in various indirect ways - weapons, funds, supplies, military advisors, intelligence and so forth. Japan offered all of this too, but also went further then that, commiting several divisions worth of "volunteers" to help the Republic on the battlefield. Grateful, Sun Yat-sen set about to create create a new "Republican Army" with the help of the aforementioned advisors; with great haste, an ersatz military academy was set up in Nanjing, and the preparation of a new officer corps begun, while recruitment offices were activated throughout the controlled territories. The Republicans had hoped to win time for the creation of this army by fighting a delaying action north of the Yangtze, but things there went beyond Sun Yat-sen's worst nightmares. Though slowed down by guerrila activities and logistical problems, the Beiyang Army defeated its opponents in battle after battle with disappointing ease. When Huang Xing, the Republic's most formidable military commander (admittedly, the early Republican military leadership wasn't a paragon of military brilliance, generally-speaking...), was defeated and killed in the Battle at Shangqiu and his army, possibly the best of those that the Republicans managed to salvage from the defecting elements of the Chinese army, literally fell apart leaving only a few ragtag militia garrisons and reservists between Duan Qirui's Beiyang column and the Yangtze's delta, the Republican leadership simply panicked, and,a fter some debate, ordered a levee en masse, in a desperate effort very similar to that of Revolutionary France in 1793.
In late 1912/early 1913, luck seemingly smiled on the Republic. Having outran his supply routes and exhausted his troops in forced march, Duan Qirui had to stop his advance and make camp near Taizhou, less than 20 miles away from the Yangtze. Having learned of this, the Republicans immediately decided to seize upon this opportunity. Though the hordes of levied conscripts were undisciplinned and often untrained, and Li Yuanhong, their commander, wasn't particularily skilled, they had a vast numerical advantage and also something of a surprise effect; Duan Qirui simply wasn't ready for such a massive assault. Perhaps more important was the involvement of the Japanese "volunteers" in this Battle at Taizhou. In any case, after a brutal battle, Duan Qirui's forces were simply overwhelmed by superior numbers and fell back in considerable disarray, though Duan Qirui managed to salvage parts of his force and succesfully fell back towards Xuzhou. Though the rest of the Beiyang Army still pressed on, the myth of its invincibility was broken, and the immediate threat to Nanjing was removed. More good news came when the Beiyang Army stumbled again in Spring 1913 due to fierce resistance (and modern weaponry) of the Chengdu garrison; eventually, the city was captured, but with heavy casualties. These minor victories were good for the morale, while some of the Republicans in northern China Proper got bold enough to use this opportunity to rise up in arms. Several other rebellions, both in China Proper and the outer areas, followed this up, although they were harshly suppressed by the remaining garrison forces and, further north, by Russian troops; the rebellion near Beijing itself was put down with the help of the newly-arrived German expeditionary corps ("China-Korps"), led by General Erich von Falkenhayn.
The rest of 1913 went by indecisively, as the Qing forces recovered their balance, consolidated their gains and repaired their supply routes. Despite the several aforementioned setbacks, they ended the year predominant north of the Yangtze. In early 1914, the Republicans launched a preemptive offensive across the central Yangtze, culminating in battles at Chongqing and at Shashi, both of which the Republicans had lost; the Beiyang forces immediately used the opportunity to invade the Hunan Province, distracting the enemy attention there while Duan Qirui (who had received his chance to redeem his past defeat) and von Falkenhayn counterattacked in the Anhui and Jiangsu provinces lost back in 1913. The Beiyang Army was good; but the China-Korps was even better, and von Falkenhayn was an excellent commander as well. Despite this, von Falkenhayn's force was mostly held back in reserve while the two provinces were being overran. They were being saved for the moment when the Yangtze needed to be crossed. Long story cut short, Falkenhayn's elite troops forced a crossing, routing a numerically-superior Chinese force and capturing Zhenjiang. Two days later, Nanjing was already besieged, and all seemed bleak for the Republic.
Nevertheless, it didn't surrender. Sun Yat-sen had remained in the city and, despite his lack of military prowess, personally set about to organize the defenses, mobilizing a large percentage of the city's population - if not to fight, then to treat the wounded or deliver supplies or something. Barricades and machine gun nests were set up, while the local militias were beign drilled by those of the Japanese volunteers trapped in the city. Meanwhile, Sun Yat-sen's protege rising star commander General Chiang Kai-shek took charge of the relief forces amassing outside. Knowing that he needed to win fast, von Falkenhayn ordered a general assault...
What resulted was a bloody, gritty, epic battle - an excellent demonstration of the modern world's technological advances that greatly sped up the process of bilateral manslaughter, a classical urban battle. Parts of the city were utterly ruined - first by the artillery shelling, and then by the urban fighting. The streets were red with blood, and it took weeks to dispose of all the corpses and the bodyparts. Sun Yat-sen's forces were gradually forced back, deeper into the city, but they fought for every inch, while von Falkenhayn and Duan Qirui kept throwing more and more troops into the fray. But in the end, Sun Yat-sen held out, just barely; having suffered unacceptably high losses and been attacked by Chiang Kai-shek's troops, the Germano-Qing forces staged an orderly fighting retreat back across the Yangtze, defeating Chiang Kai-shek's pursuit attempt as if to say that this was not yet over.
This was not yet over; neither side proved capable to break the other in 1914, as Feng Guozhang was likewise forced to fall back from Hunan, albeit mostly because of his untenable strategic position and the accomplishment of his limited (diversionary) objectives, his army having tactically carried the field. War died down, with the River Yangtze becoming the frontline, the Qing reigning more or less secure to its north and the Republic generally safe in the south, having won enough time to organize a new military capable of, at least, holding its ground. Both sides exchanged local offensives, raids and skirmishes in 1916, but apart from minor Republican gains in the Sichuan Province (the only region where the front didn't coincide with the river at the moment), it didn't change much. Yuan Shikei used this time to raise more troops and further consolidate his power in China Proper and Inner Mongolia, appointing loyal friends and lackeys to positions of power and crushing resistance. China was in stalemate, but such situations rarely last long in the modern world.
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