Chapter 166: Attack and Defense (V)

In the gate tunnel, the camp soldiers were still straining to ram the gate with their shield carts, but time after time the iron-clad gate remained utterly motionless.

With two sharp cracks, the two shield carts that had been ramming the gate finally fell apart from the sheer force.

The moment the carts collapsed, the soldiers pushing them scrambled to drag the wreckage aside, and the officer in charge shouted urgently toward the outside, telling the men there to bring in two fresh shield carts at once.

Up on the gate tower, when the Taiping troops spotted more Qing soldiers pushing shield carts into the gate tunnel below, they immediately dropped stones down, while the guards on both flanks raised their muskets and fired.

The Qing soldiers, having been hit repeatedly by stones from the wall, had learned their lesson.

As they pushed into the gate tunnel, they kept their eyes fixed on the wall above, and the moment they saw more stones appear, without waiting for any order they let out a shout and scattered in all directions.

The Taiping troops dropped several stones in succession, but hit no one.

The stones stockpiled on the wall were nearly exhausted, and the able-bodied men had not yet brought up fresh ones.

After several throws that struck no one, the Taiping troops on the gate tower had no choice but to stop hurling stones for the time being and leave it to the musketeers of the Guard Battalion to shoot at the Qing soldiers.

The musket balls, however, posed no threat at all to the shield carts; they struck with only a dull thud and could not smash through.

Yet the balls were a deadly threat to the men pushing the carts, so those soldiers held their great arrow-shields over their heads and huddled their bodies beneath them, leaving only the lower halves of their buttocks exposed.

In this way, apart from the occasional unlucky wretch struck by a ball, most of the Qing soldiers managed to charge safely into the gate tunnel.

With a thunderous boom, the two shield carts that had taken immense effort to push in slammed heavily into the gate once more, making it tremble slightly and shake loose a cloud of dust. The stones packed behind the gate also shuddered, and several rolled to one side.

"One, two, three!"

Seeing the gate shake, the camp soldiers grew excited at once and roared out the count, then shoved the shield carts at the gate for another heavy blow.

The camp soldiers scaling the wall heard the shouting from the gate tunnel, and seeing that the Taiping troops on the wall could do nothing about the men below, their morale revived. Every time the shield carts struck the gate, they let out cheers, as if the gate were about to be smashed open.

The gate tunnel was right beneath their feet, yet they could do nothing about the Qing soldiers below. The Taiping defenders grew anxious, cursing the Qing soldiers at the gate mouth as they watched.

The Guard Battalion musketeers brought up to the wall kept firing, but the Qing soldiers they killed were pitifully few.

No matter how sturdy the gate, no matter how solidly it was blocked from behind, it could not withstand such ceaseless ramming. Even if it was not broken open, the moment a large hole was battered through it, the consequences would be unthinkable.

"Elder Brother, we must find a way, and quickly — sooner or later they'll smash that gate open!"

Ge Yi saw that things could not go on like this.

Gritting his teeth, he was about to take some fearless brothers and lower themselves down on ropes to stop the Qing soldiers, but his elder brother Ge Zheng grabbed him, looked down at the base of the wall, and shouted to several soldiers on the gate tower: "Thunderclap bombs!

Use the thunderclap bombs!"

Hearing the centurion's order, the soldiers hesitated for a moment, then hurriedly hurled the thunderclap bombs in their hands downward.

The thunderclap bombs made by the Vanguard Battalion were limited by the amount of gunpowder available, so there had never been many of them. More than half had been used in the battle at Guifeng Mountain, and another batch had been expended when they broke into Xinhui.

These past two days they had been busy reinforcing the city defenses and dared not touch the powder for the cannons, so the Vanguard Battalion had produced no new thunderclap bombs, and each battalion now had only a dozen or so left.

For this reason, before the battle Zhou Shixiang had repeatedly instructed that the few remaining bombs in each battalion must be saved for a moment of life and death, and must not be used prematurely.

In Ge Zheng's eyes, this moment was already life and death. If the gate were smashed open, all would be lost — if not now, when would they use the bombs?

Six or seven thunderclap bombs were lit and hurled down. The Qing soldiers below had not yet realized what the men on the wall had thrown; some who saw them even wondered why the bandits were throwing firecrackers down.

Only when they noticed that these firecrackers seemed somehow wrong did several thunderous booms erupt, and countless iron nails, mixed with choking gunpowder smoke, shot toward them.

"My eyes! My eyes!"

"Ah!... Ugh!"

Under the blast of the thunderclap bombs, the area inside and outside the gate tunnel was filled with black smoke and wailing.

"Tung oil!"

With the first strike a success, Ge Zheng shouted, snatched a jar of tung oil used for lamps from two laborers, and smashed it down. Then, without a word, he pulled a torch from the fire where they were boiling the "golden liquid" and flung it down after it.

Tung oil was lamp oil to begin with, and caught fire on contact with flame. The ground beneath the gate tunnel was covered with splintered wood, and flames leaped up at once. The Taiping troops above also threw down flammable quilts and firewood, and soon the entire gate mouth was ablaze.

The great fire, thick with black smoke, choked the camp soldiers inside until they coughed uncontrollably and could not open their eyes. Those caught by the flames screamed and rushed out, rolling on the ground without stopping.

With fire, smoke, explosions, and flying iron nails all at once, the Green Standard troops ramming the gate simply could not hold on, and fell back one after another. Even the officers in charge feared that a slow step would make them dead men.

The collapse at the gate tunnel quickly spread. Camp soldiers who saw even the officers running took to their heels, and the men holding the ladders at the foot of the wall abandoned their comrades on the scaling ladders.

In an instant, several hundred men fled toward the rear at once, a scene of utter chaos.

Shang Zhixin, watching the battle, saw this and his face darkened. He was about to speak when he noticed Ban Zhifu staring southward as if possessed. He followed his gaze, and the sight froze him where he stood.

In their line of sight, the great banner of the Prince of Pingnan, the banner that commanded the garrison, was slowly approaching amid a throng of guards.

Seeing the Qing army collapse, Zhou Shixiang hurriedly shouted to the several dozen musketeers to his left and right, pointing fiercely at the camp soldiers still on the scaling ladders: "Shoot! Shoot them dead!"

Hearing the shout, the musketeers rushed over with their matchlocks, aimed the muzzles at the ladders, and fired a volley of cracks. At once more than twenty camp soldiers were struck and fell from the ladders.

The hundred-odd archers of the Guard Battalion's arrow company were also brought up onto the wall, and they gathered together to shoot at the camp soldiers still on the ladders who had not yet withdrawn.

Amid the chaos, Lin Shanzhi did not flee with the routed troops. He ordered his personal guards to halt the fugitives while ordering the archers to suppress the wall above.

The Qing archers, red-eyed, shot their arrows at the crenellations. Among them were several dozen veteran archers of great accuracy; with a brief aim, they released their bowstrings.

The strings sang, and dozens of sharp arrows drove into the crenellations on the gate tower. More than ten musketeers, busy loading powder, were struck at once; some who had been leaning outward screamed and toppled off the wall.

Seven or eight archers and able-bodied men were also hit, some seriously, some lightly; gritting their teeth, they were hastily carried down from the wall by their comrades.

Screams rose from both above and below the wall, and several dozen more camp soldiers were hit.

The Taiping musketeers, having taken losses, grew wiser: they no longer exposed themselves at the crenellations, but crouched down the moment they had fired, so the Green Standard men could not hit them.

Once their powder was loaded, they raised their muskets, fired, and ducked again — utterly crafty, infuriating the Green Standard archers below until they cursed aloud.

One musketeer was a little too slow. After firing, he did not crouch down at once, and was shot by a highly skilled archer below.

Hearing the whistle of the arrow, he panicked and tried to dodge aside, but he was a step too late. The arrow struck him in the right eye, and he staggered backward several steps before stopping.

He reached up, grabbed the shaft, and yanked hard — blood poured down his face. Looking with his left eye, he saw that impaled on the arrowhead was his own right eyeball.

His face changed at once, and he went mad, running wildly about the gate tower waving the arrow with his eyeball still fixed to it.

Several able-bodied men saw that he had lost his mind and hurried forward to hold him down, but before they could reach him, an arrow appeared from nowhere and flew at his neck. The arrow struck with great force and drove deep into his throat, blood gushing forth.

The man stiffened for a dozen or so seconds, then breathed his last and died.

The able-bodied men, having witnessed his death, were so horrified they stood frozen, not daring to move. It was Song Erniu, a probationary centurion of the Fearsome Enemy Battalion, who noticed several able-bodied men standing foolishly around a corpse.

He rushed over and roared at them: "You all got a death wish, damn it?! Find somewhere to take cover!"

Only then did the men come to their senses and scramble away to shelter from the arrows.

Below the gate tower, thick smoke now choked the air, and the fumes pouring out filled the gate tunnel.

The camp soldiers inside could no longer bear it; every breath seared their lungs, their eyes had long since been forced shut, and seeing that the covering archers had all fled, they burst out howling like ghosts and wailing like wolves.

Within moments, apart from more than a hundred corpses, not a single living man could be seen beneath the gate.

Lin Shanzhi saw that neither scaling the wall nor ramming the gate had succeeded, and that so many men had been killed or wounded instead.

He stamped his feet in fury, wanting to force another assault, but the camp soldiers no longer dared go near the wall, and the officers were unwilling to go to their deaths. They passed the blame back and forth, and no one would move.

Lin Shanzhi was helpless, and dared not force them too hard. If these camp soldiers truly turned desperate and killed him in front of the lines to surrender to the Taiping army inside the city, he would have suffered eighteen lifetimes of misfortune.

Fortunately, although the soldiers dared not attack the city again, none dared mutiny on the spot either.

In the end, Lin Shanzhi could only send his personal guards to beg the heir apparent to order a withdrawal, and order the several hundred surviving archers to keep shooting at the wall without pause, picking off the Taiping troops at the crenellations to vent the frustration and fury in his gut.

The distance was too close for the cannons to bear, the muskets were ineffective, and he dared not lead men out of the city in pursuit. For the moment, Zhou Shixiang had no effective means of wiping out the remnants of the Green Standard troops.

He could only pass the word for the musketeers to keep firing, while everyone else took cover behind the arrow shields to avoid the Qing arrows.

The situation was now clear: the Green Standard troops below could not fight their way into the city, but the Taiping troops on the wall dared not sally out either. For the moment, the two sides were locked in a stalemate.

At last, from the Qing army's main camp to the rear came the sound of gongs signaling retreat. Lin Shanzhi breathed a sigh of relief and immediately ordered a withdrawal.

Hearing the order to retreat, the surviving camp soldiers felt as if they had been granted a great pardon, and one by one they trudged back with hanging heads.

After a brief silence, the Taiping troops on the wall erupted in cheers. "The Tartars are retreating! The Tartars are retreating!"

"We held it! We held it! We held it!"

"..."

Soldiers and able-bodied men embraced one another in tears, leaping with excitement. Hearing the cheers from the wall, Zhou Shixiang and Song Xianggong turned to look at each other at the same moment, and smiles of joy spread across both their faces.

As the cheers spread, the whole city of Xinhui boiled over. The surviving people of Xinhui, who had been waiting in dread for their fate, grew excited too, clutching their loved ones and laughing and weeping with joy inside their homes...

The prisoners from the Han Banners and the Green Standard, meanwhile, knew neither joy nor sorrow; they only stared blankly at the Green Standard troops fleeing below the wall, saying nothing.

This first victory, its effect on the army's morale, on the soldiers' spirits, and on the blow dealt to the Qing army, was beyond words. This battle was also the first time Zhou Shixiang had led troops in defending a city, and he could not help but be stirred.

He was just about to order the Fearsome Enemy Battalion to reorganize the defenses while the Qing troops withdrew, when he saw a great banner embroidered with a four-clawed coiled dragon rise over the Qing camp opposite — the banner of the garrison command.