Chapter 1742: The Terrifying Phantom-Ledger Soldiers

On the fifteenth day of the ninth month in the first year of Chongzhen of the Great Ming.

The earthen-wall parade ground outside Beijing was already a scene of grim martial severity!

It had to be said that when Zhu Chunchen, Zhao Zhilong, Zhu Guobi, Li Shouqi (the Earl of Xiangcheng), Li Zunzu, Liu Kongzhao, Xu Yunzhen (heir to the Duke of Dingguo), and that whole crowd of martial nobles whose fortunes were bound up with the dynasty actually put their backs into it, they could still get a thing or two done — otherwise how could they have kept fooling people for so many years?

Although the Capital Camps had always been riddled with abuses — phantom rolls, commandeered labor, false musters, paid exemptions, and substitute drill — of their nominal strength of one hundred twenty thousand, at least eighty or ninety percent was fictitious, and what remained were "heroes" who fled at the sight of the enemy. Yet whenever the imperial household needed a grand ceremony, the Capital Camps could always turn out eighty or ninety thousand "crack troops," and their drums, banners, armor, and weapons all looked brand-new. If you brought up the elite troops of the Liaodong garrison and stood them side by side with these, the Liaodong men might not even compare!

That was the art of fooling the Emperor!

And now that they had met an Emperor who was not so easy to fool, the noble officers in charge of the Capital Camps naturally had to work extra hard at their fooling.

After Zhu Chunchen received the scheme devised by his "brain trust" Liu Kongzhao, he consulted with the six Vice Regional Commanders of the Three Great Camps of the Capital Camps and worked out a "plan to square the books." Though "squaring the books" was a somewhat dangerous business, it had to be done. Otherwise, once the young Emperor finished reorganizing the four garrisons of Xuanfu, Changping, Baoding, and Jizhou, all these Beijing noble houses that had fed on phantom rolls for generations would have their property confiscated.

To preserve their ancestral wealth and rank, these nobles threw in every ounce of effort they had, even going so far as to spend real money, offering the "astronomical wage" of one qian of silver a day to recruit sturdy men of the capital. The servants and household slaves whom each family had falsely enrolled to draw pay were also driven out, and together with the "one-qian-silver" stalwarts and the old soldiers who had long loafed in the Capital Camps, they all donned armor and took up weapons, and stood in perfect order on a parade ground inside the earthen wall left over from the Yuan dynasty some five or six li north of Beijing (originally the outer wall of the Yuan great capital, about thirty or forty feet high and a dozen or so li long, with a moat outside). Their numbers came to around a hundred thousand all told!

The battle formations of the Capital Camps had always been highly imposing, their order and mass far surpassing the crack troops of the nine frontiers. Standing in the open field, countless long spears stretched out like a forest. When the autumn sunlight fell on them, they blazed like a forest of steel. The common folk of the capital and its outskirts, drawn by the spectacle of this oath-taking and march-out, gathered at a distance to watch, filling every hollow and ridge with people. These subjects who lived at the foot of the imperial throne knew perfectly well what the Capital Camps were really made of, and now, seeing them actually preparing to march against the barbarians, they all gaped in astonishment, speechless.

Fan Wencheng, once again dressed in a monk's robe, was among the crowd of onlookers. He had once again been sent out by Hong Taiji to gather intelligence.

Hong Taiji's main army was now encamped on the banks of the Huai River north of Shunyi. Though they had not dared to attack the impregnable fortress of Shunyi, they had broken into quite a few estates belonging to great and wealthy families — Shunyi lay on the outskirts of the capital and adjoined the foothills of the Yan Mountains, and the surrounding mountain and forest scenery was superb, so many powerful capital families had built villas and estates near the town of Shunyi. Most of these had now been broken into by the Later Jin army, which had thereby gained a certain amount of plunder.

Moreover, it was now the ninth month of the lunar calendar, and the wheat in the fields around the capital suburbs was ready to harvest. So in recent days the Later Jin army, besides roaming about attacking the estates of the great families, had been busy reaping wheat. They had already cut nearly a hundred thousand shi, enough to feed the army for two months.

But compared with the expectations of Hong Taiji and the whole crowd of Eight Banners nobles, this haul fell far, far short.

Those capital-area great-family estates did contain plenty of valuable objects — finely crafted furniture of exquisite materials and workmanship, and strange Taihu rocks transported ten thousand li from Jiangnan — but to the soldiers of the Great Jin, none of that was the least bit practical! To break through the passes and raid, and then carry home nothing but rocks and timber? That sort of stuff was everywhere beyond the passes; what need was there to come a thousand li to steal it?

Breaking through the passes into the interior was a major undertaking. The Eight Banners troops plus booi bondservants who had come out this time numbered close to thirty thousand, and the cost of feeding and supplying them along the way was enormous! If they could not seize enough goods and farm slaves, the campaign would run at a loss — and a heavy loss at that!

Hong Taiji was naturally unwilling to return home at a loss, but he was also worried about being surrounded and badly mauled by the main Ming army.

Of course, he was not worried about being killed by the Ming army. The field-fighting ability of the Eight Banners was plain for all to see. When the elite troops of the Liaodong garrison met a larger force of Eight Banners, they could only drive them back by fighting from behind walls and formations.

But Hong Taiji feared taking a loss!

If he really were besieged by two or three hundred thousand Ming troops, even if he could win, his casualties would be frightful. If several thousand sons of the Eight Banners died and there was nothing to show for it, the days ahead for the Great Jin would be harder still.

So Hong Taiji, caught between advance and retreat, had sent large numbers of spies toward Beijing, Changping, Pinggu, Miyun, and other places, hoping to probe the enemy's true strength and weakness, find a target that was easy to strike, and at the same time ensure that he himself would not be surrounded by the Ming army.

Fan Wencheng, who had been to Beijing before, naturally knew his way around and had come to Beijing to spy. Because the city gates were now tightly guarded, he could not get inside, so he had no choice but to wander about outside the walls. Today he happened to be in time for the Capital Camps' oath-taking and march-out.

Of course he had to watch, and one look made him suck in a sharp breath of cold air!

These were crack troops!

Their formation was strict and orderly, their armor and weapons excellent, their morale high. Moreover, Fan Wencheng noticed that the Capital Camps troops assembled on the earthen-wall parade ground were not equipped with many firearms (most of the firearms had been left behind to defend the city), and they had a great many long spears!

Many long spears meant they dared to fight hand-to-hand. And these Ming Capital Camps troops were drawn up in such neat order that they must be skilled at repelling cavalry. In the course of the Later Jin's rise, the greatest loss the Later Jin army had suffered in field battle had been inflicted at the bloody battle of the Hun River by the white-pole troops of Sichuan, who were expert with the long spear.

Had Li Yongfang not promptly persuaded the previously captured Ming artillerymen to come over and brought up some general's cannons, the outcome of the bloody battle of the Hun River would have been far from certain!

Now the Capital Camps' tiger guards of the Ming army had so many long spears, while the Later Jin troops who had come through the passes had no cannon.

Cold sweat broke out all over Fan Wencheng's shaven head!

Just as Fan Wencheng was in a state of dread, a cheer suddenly burst from deep within the ranks: "Ten thousand victories! Ten thousand victories!"

The cheering at once swelled until it covered heaven and earth. A hundred thousand tiger guards raised their weapons and shouted at the top of their lungs: "Ten thousand victories! Ten thousand victories! We swear to slay the slave-bandits! We will trample Liaodong flat!"

How terrifying!

Fan Wencheng was thoroughly frightened now!

He no longer dared to watch the Ming battle formation from a distance, but fought his way out of the crowd of onlookers, went out through a breach in the earthen wall, and trotted off toward Shunyi.

This was grave news! The Ming Capital Camps were not useless after all.

As Fan Wencheng was fleeing, Wang Zaijin was giving private instructions to Zhu Chunchen, Commander of the Capital Camps, and Zhang Fengyi, Right Vice Minister of the Ministry of War and co-director of Capital Camps military affairs.

To tell the truth, Wang Zaijin had also been startled by the awe-inspiring military display of these false-muster troops of the Capital Camps. If he had not known what the Capital Camps were really made of, he would have taken this lot of phantom soldiers for genuine elite troops!

But what was false could never become true. Because the Capital Camps troops were used to performing at all sorts of ceremonies, they could still put on a fine formation. And their iron armor and cloth-faced armor all looked quite splendid — enough to fool not only laymen but even experts. Yet once they actually took the field and faced enemies surging at them like a tide, these phantom troops would show their true colors.

In fact, there would be no need even to take the field — once they marched out beyond the earthen wall, they would start deserting in droves...

Wang Zaijin sighed and gave his orders in a low voice: "Duke of Chengguo, Boqi, we ourselves know perfectly well what these hundred thousand Capital Camps troops are really like. So after you march out beyond the wall, you must proceed with caution. From the earthen wall to the slave-bandits' main camp north of Shunyi is sixty or seventy li. If the army forced the pace, it could cover that in a day and a night. But you must not march too fast. Six or seven li a day is about right. Advance step by step, and after every six or seven li, make camp and raise stockades. The stockades must be made strong, because what the slave-bandits fear most is our fighting from behind walls and stockades! This old man has already sent orders to Yuan Yuanzi to advance step by step after leaving Pinggu. Our two great armies, a hundred thousand strong (it is impossible for all hundred thousand to take the field; at least half will slip away, so Wang Zaijin counted the Capital Camps troops as only fifty thousand), will both advance by fortified camps, closing in on Shunyi inch by inch, giving the slave-bandits not the slightest opening. We can certainly force them to withdraw. As long as we force them away, we shall count it as a complete victory. For the slave-bandits have gained very little in this raid through the passes, not enough to cover their expenses, so they will have come at a loss. Once they take a loss, there will be no second or third time!"

(End of Chapter)