The History of China - #308 - Zheng Yi Sao, Pt. 2: Into the Tiger's Mouth

Episode Date: October 14, 2025

The Pirate Queen’s Red Flag Fleet reigns supreme, but a three-way battle at Tiger’s Mouth tests even her grip on the seas. Time Period Covered: 1807-1844 CE Major Historical Figures: Red Flag Fleet: Zheng Yi Sao (AKA Ching Shih, née Shi Yang), Co-Commander of the Red Flag Confederation [1775-1844] Zhang Baozai, Co-Commander of the Red Flag Fleet, later Qing Navy colonel [1783-1822] Guo Podai, Commander of the Black Flag Fleet [178?-181?] Qing Empire: The Jiaqing Emperor (Aisin-Gioro Yongyan) [r. 1796-1820] Bailing, Governor-General of Liangguang [d. 1829] Sun Quanmou, Provincial Fleet Commander Wen Chengzhi, Qing Chief Official Negotiator Portuguese Empire: Captain José Pinto Alcoforado e Sousa, Commander of Macau Flotilla [177?-18??] Major Sources Cited: Andrade, Tonio. The Gunpowder Age: China, Military Innovation, and the Rise of the West in World History. Antony, Robert J. Like Froth Floating on the Sea: The World of Pirates and Seafarers in Late Imperial South China. Leonard, Jane Kate. "Maritime China in Transition, 1750–1850" in The Cambridge History of China, Volume 9, Part 2: The Ch'ing Dynasty to 1800, Part 2. Murray, Dian H. Pirates of the South China Coast, 1790–1810. Van de Ven, Hans J. Breaking with the Past: The Maritime Customs Service and the Global Origins of Modernity in China. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

You're listening to an Airwave Media podcast. When you're with Amex Platinum, you get access to exclusive dining experiences and an annual travel credit. So the best tapas in town might be in a new town altogether. That's the powerful backing of Amex. apply. Learn more at mx.ca.ca slash yamex. Hello and welcome to the history of China. Episode 308, Jung-e-Sal part two, into the tiger's mouth.

Of these squadrons, that which flew the red flag became stronger than the other five put together. It was first commanded by a notorious chief named Zheng Yi, who lost his life in a heavy gale. His wife then assumed command. She must have been a remarkable woman, and used her authority with firmness and discretion. We are told that the following three regulations were strictly enforced. If any man goes privately on shore, or what is called transgressing the bars, he shall be taken and his ears shall be perforated in the presence of the whole fleet. Repeating the same act, he shall suffer death. Not the least thing shall be taken privately from the stolen or plundered goods.

All shall be registered, and the pirate received for himself, out of ten parts, only two. Eight parts shall belong to the storehouse, called the General Fund. The penalty for taking anything out of this general fund shall be death. No person shall debauch at his pleasure captive women taken from the villages and open places, and brought on board ship. He must first request the ship's purser for permission, and then go aside in the ship's hold. To use violence against any woman, or wed her without permission, she'll be punished with death. Moreover, she was astute enough to gain the favor of the country's people in certain coastal districts, and decreed that the friendly villages must be paid for all wine, rice,

and other goods they delivered. Any pirate who infringed on this order was beheaded, and consequently, the Red Squadron could rely upon plentiful supply, provisions at all times. From the introduction to Mr. Glasspool and the Chinese Pirates by Owen Rudder, 1935. Think big, think positive. Never show any sign of weakness. Always go for the throat. Buy low, sell high.

Fear? That's the other guy's problem. Never have you ever experienced anything that will prepare you for the absolute carnage you are about to witness. Super Bowl, World Series, they don't know what pressure is. In this building, it's Killer B killed. You make no friends in the pits, and you take no prisoners. One minute you're up a half million in soybeans, and the next, boom, your kids don't go to college, and they've repossessed your Bentley.

Are you with me? Yeah, we're going to kill him! Lewis Winthrop III, and Billy Ray Valentine, trading places. 1983. Last time, we ended off with the dramatic death at sea for the commander of the mightiest pirate fleet to ever plow the waves. The Red Flag Confederation's Commodore, Zheng Yi. either by Typhoon or Cannonball, depending on which version you think sounds cooler. That 1807 finale, of course, rather suddenly upended all the nicely arranged plans of his wife and business partner,

the then 32-year-old Si Yang. Shi, who both we and history know more infamously and professionally as Zheng Yi Sao, the wife of Zheng Yi, found herself now in quite the pickle. Regardless of how one views their marriage, born either out of romantic interest or perhaps merely cold corporate calculus. The now suddenly widow Zheng was not only a single mother of twins, but whose very grip on power and position just got, one way or another, blown away. Though Jung's legal spouse, and titled a half of his possessions and takings,

actual leadership of the Zheng fleet passed not to her, mere woman that she was, but to Zheng Yi's adopted son, maybe one-time lover, and sold as a woman. designated heir, Zhang Bao Zai, who himself, now just 24, was really earning his nickname The Kid. It could easily have ended then and there, and not just for Madam Jung's own future prospects, but for the entire notion of the Pirate Confederation altogether. It probably won't surprise too terribly many to know that piratical organizations tend to be rather loosely held together, and, like many enterprises built around a single overarching leader, tend to not long survive their founder's own demise. And there were assuredly many calls from within the fleet

to disband, or at the very least heavily renegotiate the strictures of their code of conduct, the Gongye. But somehow, it didn't. As we left off with, Madame Jung was able to parlay her business savvy and considerable personal assets into yet another strategic alliance turned partnership turned marriage to King Kid himself. He would be the smiling frontman of their murderous operation, infamous across the waves of the South for his singular fighting style, uncanny luck, and the perception, at least among some, of a kind of quasi-religious authority, more of which I'll get to into a minute, while Madame Zheng was the tactical, ruthless, and ambitious mastermind pulling the strings behind the scenes.

It may have been partly, or all, play act, but as any performer knows, come what may, the show must go on, and what a show they were about to put on. Circling back to the idea of Zhang Bao Zai's supposed religious authority, it's a rather interesting aside. The Tonka people, those so-called sea gypsies of the southern coasts, from whom both Zhang and Madame Zheng are thought to have come, had a rich, spiritual tradition bound to the sea itself. Blending Taoism, Buddhism, as well as local animistic variants,

this seemingly ad hoc set of folk beliefs, in fact centered around the worship of Mazu, the Empress of Heaven, and protector goddess of seafarers. As we noted last time, the pirate lord of yesteryear, Zheng Lian Chong, had actually built an entire coastal temple to Mazu back in the 1750s to serve as a front for his pirate stronghold tucked back in the hill. hills behind it. Such a stroke of genius proved well worth the investment, and such practices were likely continued by the likes of Zhang Yi and his red flags. Zhang Bao Zai would have been

intimately familiar with such rituals, and have taken them extremely seriously, likely participating in offerings, prayers, and festivals to ensure safe voyages and bountiful raids. His cultural background is one of the boat people, usually a mark of social shame, in this context actually gave him something of a spiritual edge. His perceived religious authority stemmed from his ability to embody or channel Mazu's favor, a pretty big deal for a fleet facing typhoons, chink patrols, and the occasional Portuguese canon. Sailors, ever the superstitious lot, found it best to follow leaders who could claim and demonstrate divine protection. Zhang's knack for surviving daring raids,

Anthony calls it luck, but in my experience there's no such thing as luck, would have reinforced the idea that Mazu and other sea spirits shielded him from harm. It's not hard to see why people whose lives and livelihoods depended on something as terrifyingly powerful and capricious as the ocean would seek out and follow any such leader who could credibly claim divine protection. Because by the time of Zhang Yi's demise, Piracy in the South Seas had become something the world had never quite seen before and never would again. Far from its origins as the small-time scrounging, pilfering, and sidegigs to scrape by over the off-seasons, by 1807 it had metamorphosed into Piracy Incorporated International.

A full-time for-profit enterprise that could bank on reliable quarter-upon-quarter returns was fully regulated via a comprehensive and strict set of policy guidelines, and absolutely was going to continue its operation, come Tempest or Imperial Cannon Fire. It's oft repeated, almost to the point that one starts to become deaf to the idea, but the red flags by their height employed tens of thousands of people, complete with benefits packages, medical leave, and retirement options. Just to throw things into a little perspective here, there are only about 250 companies worldwide today that have 70,000 or more employees.

The Red Flags ran with similar staffing numbers as the likes of Pfizer, PepsiCo, and META, and in the case of that last one especially, probably causing significantly less overall harm for the world in the process. Let's not be too glib about it. As the account by our own Mr. Glasspool made well clear, piracy was not about being Robin Hood or other such charming do-good or outlaws of fiction. It was every bit the brutal, violent, and often quite short, life that they led. Yet if for no other reason than the sheer scale of the Red Flag operation, it became legal or very much not, a central pillar of the Cantonese economy.

Tens of thousands of sailors needed every sort of provision one might imagine. food, weapons, ammunition, but also housing and services. And that required a functional marketplace to sustain it all. As such, by 1805, they'd instituted a self-sustaining enterprise of regular commerce, transaction, and yes, taxation. A junk's crew might be able to loot and plunder a town once, it's true, but the next season they'd have the same problem again, and no more town to raid. far better then to shear the coastline's sheep every year than to skin them all at once. This practice came to be called the pseudo-official name Ocean Taxes, or Yangshui. It was a protection racket, of course, at least by the common definition,

but for an organization as sweeping and massive as the red flags, and with the eyes of Beijing so very far away, such extortion became more an alternative form of tax to the coast. populace, and oftentimes preferable to the Qing officiates' annual squeeze by, as Anton puts it, quote, similarly predacious but less reliable local officials, and quote. And it was no empty promise either. By 1809, the red flags outnumbered the ships of the Qing Imperial Navy by three to one, and had taken control of almost the totality of Guangdong's sea lanes, coastal villages, and even most of its inner sea of internal waterways.

Black markets sprang up along the coasts, protected by red flag enforcers, for a fee, of course. With very little imperial support coming from the Dragon Throne, the damned pirates had somehow become the region's de facto law and order. Imperial neglect to the emergent piracy crisis was due to a number of reasons. In terms of court tradition and orientation, the oceans had long marked the effective edge of the world, which only provided minor distractions from the empire's true eternal foci, pacifying the northwestern frontier, and any source of internal disquiet. The Qing Navy, therefore, had been long neglected, and that lack of care or resources showed through undeniably in the opening decade of the 1800s. The major problem of the time, as per Beijing's estimation at least, was the ongoing

suppression of the White Lotus Rebellion that had plagued the Jia Qing Emperor's reign from its very outset. Originating and centered in the rugged mountains dividing Sichuan from Hubei, the white lotus movement had re-sparked the flame that had centuries ago driven the Mongols from power over China and inaugurated the Ming Dynasty. In trying times such as these, their long-suppressed and forgotten message of Maitreya Buddha's eminent return to scour the world of all its impurity and fallen nature with cleansing karmic flames, didn't sound quite so bad to quite a lot of people. Their UN-period

anti-foreign usurpation ideology against the Kublaid Mongols was easy enough to dust off and stick to the equally foreign, equally usurpacious Manchu overlords who now rang from the poor peasantry every last drop of taxable income. You can see, no doubt, the certain appeal of such rhetoric. It would in fact take more than eight long, hard years of brutal anti-guerilla warfare in the steaming mountain forests and bamboo groves of central China to effectively suppress the white lotus. And the Qing Green Standard Army, who, you may recall, was the branch of the imperial military comprised primarily of Han Chinese troops, unlike the Banner armies, which employed overwhelmingly Manchu and Mongol troops, they didn't do themselves any favors with their methodology.

As is the case with just about any anti-Garilla war one might care to examine, the troops' inability to clearly distinguish guerrilla combatants from civilians quickly devolved into mass atrocities against the civilian populations by the frustrated, demoralized, and terrorized soldiers. So violent were their methods that in short order, the Green Standard Army became known across the region by a new and far-bloodier epithet, the Red Lotus Society. A later decree from Jia Qing's heir and successor, the Daoguang emperor put it bluntly.

It was extortion by local officials that goaded the people into rebellion, end quote. Seen as a direct threat to the capital's stability, the White Lotus Rebellion thus drew away tens of thousands of soldiers from the coastal provinces, along with precious tax funds meant for maritime security. This strategic misallocation of resources created a perfect storm. Inland security and coastal defense were intertwined concerns and always had been, yet the Emperor's priorities gorged one to little effect, while starving the other to great effect. The negligent decay of the Qing Navy thus served to further deepen the piracy crisis. What passed for an imperial fleet was really little more than a collection of prefectural watercops, poorly equipped, plagued by inadequate leadership, and hampered by inefficient command structures.

Pirates routinely overpowered these forces, even assaulting some of their land-based fortresses. In 1808 alone, reports indicate that high-coast sea bandits sank 63 of the Navy's 135 vessels, a crippling blow. Provincial governments, riddled with their own corruptions and weaknesses, fair little better. Their efforts to curb pirate activity was often laughably futile. By the end of the decade, this institutionalized rot, combined with social upheaval, natural disasters, and crippling food shortages, both along the coasts and within the heart of the empire, only served to feed the flames of unrest, rebellion, and banditry from 1790 onward. Desperation and lack of alternatives drove the citizenry by the thousands into piracy, swelling the very ranks of Confederate. like Zheng Yi's, and turning the waters into truly lawless expanses.

Perhaps the clearest indicator of all that things were not going well in the Qing southern frontier was the Pearl River Delta region, and specifically the port of Macau. The red flags had proven unable to secure the Portuguese hub for themselves, but that certainly hadn't stopped them from trying. Back in 1804, they had, under the dual command of Zhang Yi and his lady wife, blockaded and besieged the city of some 15,000 with 200 ships, effectively cutting the colony off for a period of weeks. A breakout attempt by the Portuguese flotilla within the harbor

was engulfed and then captured by the pirates, with at least two other major counterattacks likewise turned aside. British observers, present in the region for their own trade interests, noted the route but declined to intervene, opting instead to begin escorting their own convoys with military escorts, a tacit acknowledgment of the pirate's dominance over the region. Casualties were significant on both sides, though exact figures are pretty hazy. Portuguese reports claim dozens of pirate junk sunk,

but both Qing and pirate sources suggest minimal losses for the red flags, with vessels they captured often then repurposed and sent back out to sea full of pirates. The battle exposed Macau's vulnerabilities. Its walls and batteries, decrepit relics from earlier Dutch threats of the 1600s, could no longer hope to withstand a prolonged assault with modern 19th century weaponry and tactics. The pirate blockade was lifted by mid-1804, not through any defeat, but via pragmatic withdrawal. The pirates had extracted substantial tribute, including ransoms from captured ships, and coerced payments from Macau's merchants.

Such a resounding success bolstered the Red Flag Fleet's coffers, funding its yet further expansion. It absorbed not only the ships that it captured, but also defectors from the fray, further eroding both Qing and Portuguese authority at the mouth of the pearl. But more than that,

it finally forced Beijing to acknowledge that the piracy crisis was more than just, well, a crisis. It had all the makings, the logistics, the manpower, and the dynamic, charismatic, and brilliant leadership of a rival power effectively in rebellion against the authority of the throne. It elevated their standing, in the eyes of the emperor, from local nuisance to strategic threat, from Heisei to Haiko.

Yet the Jathing Emperor and his government were also forced to confront their own complicity in the rise of this now apparently. existential threat on the waves. Yes, the criminals were criming, but the capital had not only turned a blind eye to the coast's problems, but actively depleted their defenses. And now, though they recognized the danger, they also recognized that there was very little that they could do to stop it. For a power like Great Ching, it was used to being able to solve just about any of its

problems with one single tool, overwhelming military force. But with that option being off the table, the Jaching Emperor was forced to acknowledge that he was unable to wipe out the pirate fleets through military force alone. It would need a new tact, a whole new toolkit, in fact, which recognized the necessity of non-military solutions based on negotiation and compromise, while simultaneously taking steps to draw down internal military campaigns in order to further free up the government. this episode is brought to you by peloton a new era of fitness is here introducing the new peloton cross-training tread plus powered by peloton IQ built for breakthroughs with personalized workout plans real-time insights and endless ways to move lift with confidence while peloton IQ counts reps corrects form and tracks your progress let yourself run lift flow and go explore the new Peloton cross-training tread plus at OnePeloton.CA.

Yet even with these reforms enacted, they would still need to wait for the opportune moment, a low ebb in this tide of piracy, to counterpunch. And that would come in 1809 when the red flags once again turned their attention to the gate of the Praia Grande Bay, Macau. By late 1808, Zhang Yi-Sao and Zhang Bao Zai's pirate fleet had tightened its grip on the Pearl River Delta. The red flags collaborated with their allied colors like the black flags to impose a renewed blockade, once again choking off the river mouth. This operation disrupted the flow of tribute rice, merchant convoys, and imperial revenues, exacerbating the coastal famine and

social unrest that had fueled the rise of piracy now for decades. In late summer 1809, the Qing dynesies grasp on the region held on by a thread. The red flags dominated the coasts, Inlets and trade routes, and having already defeated Qing naval forces twice near Canton, they were riding pretty high. They sank a 35-ship pletilla under Lin-Guo Liang off to Shenzhen, and routed a hundred-ship force led by Sun Quan Mo. By September, the pirates extorted coastal villages and merchants, and had captured a Portuguese trade ship from Timor, killing its crew.

Such chaos spurred the Portuguese governor of Macau, Lucas Hode de Alvarenga, to finally intervene directly. Qing officials, desperate, sought for an aid, leading to a joint campaign against the pirates in the Human Strait, or in Portuguese, the Boko da Tige, both of which mean the same thing, the tiger's mouth. It would be the tiger's mouth, narrow, treacherous estuary flanked by mudflats and forts that it was, that would serve as the pirate blockade's chosen choke point. somewhat reminiscent of the ancient Battle of Thermopylae, the red flags, like the Spartans

before them, hoped to negate Imperial and Portuguese fire superiority by hemming them in and closing the gap into boarding and melee range where they excelled. Pirates positioned floating batteries and chained their vessels across the channels, creating an impenetrable barrier that halted dozens of trading ships. Ching officials in Guangdong, long hamstrung by their own naval weakness, viewed this now an existential threat. Without access to Canton, the empire's economic lifeline to the rest of the world faltered, and foreign powers grew restless. On September 5th, a Portuguese flotilla, two armed merchant ships, the Princess Carlora and the Belasario, along with support vessels, sailed

out of Macau in order to confront the Red Flag Fleet. The Qing Navy, under Sun Quan Mo, was supposed to join, but found themselves delayed. Arriving at the tiger's mouth as such, under strength, the Portuguese proved all too easy for Zhang Bao Zai's lead force to ambush shortly after their departure. This battle lasted for hours, with both sides exchanging cannon fire. The Portuguese damaged several junks, but faced boarding attempts by pirate crews. Ultimately, no clear victory emerged, setting the stage for a larger campaign in the Human Strait. The Governor General and Viceroy of the two Guangs, a 61-year-old Manchu official

named Bai Ling, had recently been appointed by the throne specifically to restore order to the crime-riddled region. And a quick side note here, sometimes his name can be found rendered as Zhang Bai Ling, but this is actually something of a misnomer. In the typical Manchu style, he held only one name, Bai Ling. Yet the Office of Governor General of Liang Guang, to which he'd been appointed, had been so thoroughly dominated by a branch of the Zhang family for enough generations, that it seems like a lot of people at the time just kind of naturally assumed that, well, since he was the Governor General now, Bailing must also be one of the Zhangs. Regardless, Governor Beiling quickly devoted himself to orchestrating a

multifaceted response to this unprecedented threat. Recognizing the Imperial Navy's limitations of it, you know, being outgunned, outmaned, outnumbered, out-planned, he turned instead to a truly novel resource for support. Foreign powers, already limited trading partners and who were having their own dealings undermined by rampant piracy, well, maybe they might prove themselves to be useful allies against their common foe. The Portuguese, still stinging from earlier pirate raids on Macau, were easy enough to convince, being as it was their own possession being threatened at all.

They committed a squadron of four warships, including the 74-gun ship of the line, Fama de Macau, under Captain Juan Pereira. British vessels, though wary of any direct entanglement, provided indirect support again through intelligence and sending... Provided indirect support both through intelligence and, again, sending their own armed escorts for their East India Company ships. Governor General Byling's own fleet totaled around 60 vessels, which were a mix of Qing war junks, river gunboats, and even the occasional European frigate, altogether crewed by about 5,000 sailors and Marines. Of course, for all this, the Red Flag High Command wasn't just sitting around doing nothing.

Ever the master tactician, Zheng Yi Sa had long known that such an overt attack on a major port like Macau would draw an escalatory response. As such, she reinforced the estuary with shore batteries on islands like Dengbi, and dispatched scout junks to monitor all imperial movements. In early November, part of the Red Flag fleet anchored in the Dongdong Bay, north of Lantau Island, for repairs following a raid. On November 4th, three Portuguese ships and a brig approached to probe the pirate defenses. Zhang Bao Zai called in reinforcements and was able to repel the attack. Back. Later on November 29th, a reinforced Portuguese flotilla, now four ships strong under

Ovidor Miguel José de Ariaga Brum de Sauvara, entered the Human Strait to meet up with the Qing fleet, which once again failed to arrive on time. The pirates, however, were not late, and intercepted the Portuguese crew, leading to a more than nine-hour battle. The Portuguese held their own admirably, sinking or damaging at least 15 pirate junks and killing hundreds, but wound up with drawing when Qing's support failed to materialize. Did I mention the widespread belief across Guangdong that the government forces were rather unreliable? You may be beginning to see where such a belief stemmed from. Over the following weeks, the Portuguese maintained their blockade, clashing with pirate sordies.

Deng Bao's eyes attempt to break out, faltered against superior Portuguese gunnery. As tensions rose, internal divisions within the pirate fleet deepened. Guo Po Dai, the leader of the Black Flag Fleet, refused to aid Zhang, and later ambushed the Red Flag Vessels near Human in December, capturing several ships for himself before surrendering to the Qing. Our old friend Richard Glasspool wrote of many of the horrors he witnessed meeted out upon such captives. A Chinese captive on board was fastened to the deck by large nails,

which were inhumanly driven through his feet, and then was beaten with four ratans twisted together till he vomited blood, end quote. Pirate losses included 20 to 30 junks sunk or captured by January, with 1 to 2,000 killed or wounded, as per Qing and Portuguese estimates. Come December, the Red Flag Fleet was battered. Portuguese cannon fire sank junks and repelled any kind of boarding attempt, while blockades cut off the pirate supplies.

Yet the final phase of this nearly four-month-long operation would be ignited as of January 21st, 1809. As the combined Qing Portuguese armada sailed out into the estuary under a pall of morning fog, Governor Bai Ling's strategy emphasized their superior firepower over any kind of boarding formation. European broadsides would soften the pirate lines, allowing Qing junks to press the assault. It would be the Fama de Macau leading the vanguard. vanguard with her 72 guns. Its heavy cannons thundering across the narrows to target pirate hulks oh so conveniently chained together to prevent them maneuvering or escaping the hail of fire. From British captain of the HMS Hindustan, which observed the battle from afar, quote,

The pirates are very numerous, and their junks are well armed with guns of different calibers, some of which are English manufacture. They maneuver with great address, and their fire is well directed. End quote. The red flag response was both immediate and ferocious. Jung-e-Sau's ships, numbering over 200 vessels in her immediate vicinity alone, unleashed a hail of cannon and swivel-gun fire from concealed positions. Red flag junks, agile and heavily gunned with looted European cannons, darted through the shallows to rake the Allied flanks time and again. Historical logs from the Portuguese flagship describe the chaos, shots ringing through the rigging, splintering masts and igniting sails, all while

pirate boarding parties in small flat-bottom Sampan skiffs harried any stragglers, reaping the chaos the gunnery had sown. The estuary's geography favored the pirate defenders initially, which was why they'd chosen it after all. Hidden tidal mudbanks grounded two Qing gunboats early on, exposing them to concentrated red flag fire that sank one and forced the other to withdraw. Yet the European ship's superior range soon began to tell. The Fama's 32-pounders demolished a pirate battery on Dungby, silencing its guns forever and opening up a breach in the pirate armor. Again from Captain Nagle, quote, the Portuguese ship Fama advanced under a heavy fire from the chained junks and shore batteries, sustaining much damage, but eventually,

opening the passage with her broadsides." By midday, Allied forces had advanced more than a mile, capturing three pirate junks laden with rice and munitions, vital supplies to the pirates, but also to the ports of Macau and Canton themselves, to ease the blockade's pressure on their dangerously low stores. As the sun climbed, the morning gunnery devolved into a grinding melee battle. Deng Bao Zai, commanding the Red Flag Vanguard, executed a daring counter, first feigning retreat to lure the Fama into a kill zone, where then flanking junks closed in with chain shot to try to foul its rudder.

This maneuver very nearly succeeded. The Portuguese ship shuddered under a barrage that killed over 50 of its crew and even wounded Captain Pereira. But the disciplined broadsides from accompanying frigates were able to repel the borders, and Qing Marines stormed a burning pirate hulk. raising imperial banners amid the flames. On all sides, casualties mounted swiftly. Pirate losses were severe,

at least 20 junks either sank or captured, with estimates of at least 1,000 dead or wounded, including the leaders of several of the smaller fleets. The red flags bore the brunt of the punishment, with their forward lines being shattered, while both the white and black flag fleets breaking early on and either fleeing or surrendering to the Allied force outright.

Deng Yi Sao, directing it all from a command junk anchored well offshore, ordered a tactical withdrawal to preserve her core strength, sacrificing more expendable allies to buy herself more time. Such a decision certainly helped preserve the core nucleus of her fleet strength, but it exposed fractures as well. Subordinate captains grumbled at the disproportionate toll that they would be taking, an ominous portent of things to come. For the combined Portuguese Qing fleet, it was a hard-fought day, but a victory well worth celebrating. Wrote Captain Jose Pinta de Sousa of the brig, Princessa Carlotta, quote,

The pirate fleet, exceeding 200 sail, formed an impregnable barrier across the Bocatigris. But the Fama's artillery proved decisive in shattering their lines amid the mudflats, end quote. Allad Gaines came at a cost. The Qing lost five vessels and some 300 men, while Portuguese casualties were between 50 to 100. British observers, including Commodore Edward Nagel aboard the Hindustan, noted the pirate's resilience, but praised the bombardment's efficacy in breaking their cohesion. By dusk, the estuary ran red with pirate blood, and the blockade was pierced for the first time in months. The Battle of the Tiger's mouth ended in a clear tactical victory for the Chinese. coalition, lifting the immediate stranglehold on trade routes and restoring convoy access to both

Canton and Macau. Captured pirate documents revealed the Confederacy's supply strains, validating Bailing's embargo tactics. The Portuguese, their honor now avenged, now sought to deepen their own ties with the Qing, paving away for future joint operations. From Adam Zung, the defeat was a sobering reality check. While her fleet retained numeric, superiority, retracting to hidden anchorages with minimal core losses, it accelerated the empire's momentum while throwing hers into doubt. The battle had claimed key vessels and sowed doubt among her allies, prompting Captain Guo Poli's eventual complete capitulation the following year. It also intensified foreign scrutiny on their operations. Britain's opportunistic presence

highlighted the Qing's reliance on outsiders, all of which served to fuel the Jha Qing Emperor's diplomatic resentments going forward. In the aftermath of such a stunning defeat, by January's end, Madame Jung had initiated contact with Governor Bailing through appropriate intermediaries. The Qing, long humiliated by its string of defeats to this pirate rabble, were eager to end the threat without any further risk of loss. As such, Bailing was quick. to offer amnesty, a tactic he'd already proved to considerable success with smaller pirate bands. Zheng Yi Sao, aware of the fleet's weakened state and now of Guo Puai's betrayal, sought terms that would preserve her followers' lives and secure her own future.

Negotiations unfolded over the next several weeks, with Zheng Yi Sao leveraging her fleet's remaining strength, still over 200 ships strong and nothing to sneeze at, in order to demand favorable conditions. Official talks stretched into early February, but soon enough, terms acceptable enough to both sides were finalized. Governor Beiling agreed to pardon the vast majority of the pirates, and then to integrate key leaders into the Qing military command structure, as well as provide financial support for their transition from one career to the next.

Zheng Yi-Sao and Zhang Bao Zai, ever the calculating opportunists, could hear that the music was about to stop, and figuring that further resistance risked their total annihilation, quickly accepted. On February 21st, at Fu Rong Sha near Canton, Zhang Bao Zai formally surrendered 280 ships, 2,000 guns, and over 25,000 men to Qing authority. Only 126 pirates were executed, and a further 211 exiled. Everyone else, the tens of thousands of others, including the leaders, received total amnesty. Which is an amazing deal, considering that the only deal a pirate typically reaches with a government is at the end of a noose or a headman's blade.

Still, it must have really sucked to be one of those 126 selected to be. be the sacrificial offerings to imperial authority, while everyone else just walked away scot-free. Wrote Governor Bai Ling in his later report of success to the Jaxing Emperor, quote, The pirate Zhang Bao Zai and his consort have laid down arms. In exchange for loyalty, we grant mercy, turning foes to guardians of the coast, end quote. In all, the surrender was a pragmatic victory for both sides. The Qing avoided a costly and still uncertain final assault,

while Zeng Yi Sao secured safety and status for her followers. Negotiations were facilitated by local merchants and officials in Canton, who, as per Qing records, acted as the primary go-betweens. The surrender marked the end of the Red Flag Fleet's dominance of the South Sea. Zhang Bao Zai, now a Qing Navy colonel, was given command of 30 ships to patrol the very coasts and suppress the remaining pirates that hadn't been smart enough to switch sides along with him. He served right up until his death in 1822, earning praise for his effectiveness.

Zheng Yi Sao retired to Canton, opening a gambling house and reportedly a brothel, living comfortably until 1844. The Qing distributed pensions to surrendered pirates, with 60 receiving ranks and 17,000, 17 to 18,000 getting payments to reintegrate, as per Imperial Records. The Pirate Confederation dissolved victorious, though it must be said that small-scale piracy did persist all across the coasts well into the 1850s. The Portuguese, though instrumental in the success of the blockade and battle of Tiger's mouth, received little formal credit in Chang accounts. This is because, no doubt,

their involvement exposed the dynasty's own weakness, something the Qing were still unprepared to look at or deal with honestly, but which would be forced upon them in the decades to come. The campaign success restored Qing control over the Pearl River Delta, but the cost, and specifically the need for reliance on foreign aid to do so, highlighted its own core vulnerabilities, both to itself, but also to the foreign powers. Zhang Yi Sao's strategic surrender preserved her legacy as a leader who outmaneuvered destruction. The campaign's estimated total losses,

1500 to 3,000 for the pirates with minimal Portuguese and chain casualties, reflect the blockade's grinding effectiveness. The once formidable pirate queen, who commanded hundreds of warships and tens of thousands of followers, now transitioned from maritime warfare to a far quieter existence. Her post-surrender years, from 1810 to 1844, reveal a shrewd leader, adapting to a new reality in Canton, leveraging the wealth and influence she'd acquired at sea to now thrive on land. About 35 years old at the time of her surrender, Lady Zheng settled in Canton with her husband, Zhang Bao Zai. Seeking greater independence for herself, Zheng Yi Sa used her share of the fleet's riches.

You remember, all the gold, silver, and goods from the coastal extortion and raids that she had, yeah, successfully negotiated to keep for herself and associates to start anew. By mid-1810, she'd opened a gambling house in Canton, and very likely a brothel as well. Ching Records confirmed that about 5,000 women, including 2,000 captives, were released during the surrender, suggesting that she ensured their safety, and with some likely joining her further ventures. Lady Zhang ran her gambling house, catering to the whirl and rush of humanity all across Guangdong's docks and moors, while Zhang Bao Zai served as a Qing Navy colonel. In this new position, he was tasked with leading 30 ships against remnant pirates.

A job of you performed with all the zeal he used to show for plundering government ships himself, right up until his death in 1822, likely, much like his predecessor Zhang Yi, in a storm or skirmish. Zheng Yi Sao's legendarily strict leadership almost certainly carried over to her civilian business ventures and she came to act as a force of order in the otherwise chaotic trade hub. Now in her 40s and twice widowed, she focused on her enterprises and raised her children,

including Zhang's son and heir. Canton's role as a global trade center gave her a very steady clientele and her pirate wealth sustained her throughout the 1810s and 20. unlike many ex-pirates who quickly struggled once the lute spigot was turned off. After Zhang Bao Zai's death, Zhang Yi Sao expanded into ventures like The Salt Trade, an incredibly lucrative industry. Local accounts portray her as a respected figure in the city's underworld,

her pirate past fading more into the likes of myth and legend. Reportedly at some point she remarried, though her third husband's identity is unrecorded. By the 1830s, as what would be the build-up to the first opium war strained ever further Canton's economy with opium smuggling and trade disputes, Lady Jung's wealth helped to insulate her, allowing her businesses to thrive nevertheless. In 1844, at about age 69, she died. There are no specific causes listed, but given her age and the era's conditions,

natural causes, such as tuberculosis, cholera, or respiratory illnesses rampant in the crowded streets, are likely. 19th century Chinese life expectancy was about 30 to 40 years, which, even when accounting for the skewing effect of high early childhood mortality, made her own longevity notable. It can likely be chalked up to better living conditions afforded by her pilfered wealth and doxai grade market, quote-unquote, legitimate business empire. Her death, occurring as it did in the very aftermath of the Opium War, as Canton shifted to its treaty port era, as per the 1842 Treaty of Nanjing, went almost completely unnoticed by Qing officials, a testament to her lifelong survival strategy of keeping out of the official spotlight and staying behind the scenes. Jung's gambling house likely passed to family or associates, quite possibly her son, though no records exist to confirm its fate. Her death drew little attention from a Qing dynasty preoccupied as it was by foreign, let's call them, difficulties for now.

But her legend grew in Canton's oral traditions and maritime tales, later documented by storytellers, historians, and most importantly of all, podcasters. She rose from a floating brothel to lead a pirate empire, fought and defeated Qing and Portuguese foes, and retired ridiculously wealthy and legally in the clear, a singular figure who, by dint of her own iron will, defied both gender and social norms. There is no tomb or headstone nor marked grave of any sort for Xiyang, the wife of Zheng Yi, or at least none that are known. Instead, her legacy endures and will continue to

in the folklore and legends of the Pearl River Delta, and in the breaking waves and tides of the timeless sea itself. Indomitable, undefeated, forever, the pirate queen of the seas. Thanks for listening.