Chapter 620: The Confucians Have Saints Now

On the south bank of the Dawen River, on the high ground of Turtle Mountain, early morning of the twenty-fourth day of the eleventh month.

Gunfire still rang out sporadically, never fully ceasing. Below the high ground called Turtle Mountain — which was in truth no more than a small earthen mound — a great army was deploying, a bustling scene of preparation for battle. Several hundred side-cart war wagons had been arranged around Turtle Mountain into a perfectly square military formation. All the side-carts had been tipped onto their sides, and the great shields originally mounted on the carts had been taken down and lined up alongside the overturned cart bodies. A number of grain wagons had also been hauled over to make up the numbers, likewise tipped onto their sides and set together with the war carts and shields.

The cart bodies and shields were fastened together with ring clasps, and triangular support poles were set behind them. Extra-long pikes over one zhang and eight chi in length were also mounted atop the cart bodies and shields, their gleaming tips pointing forward, turning the cart formation into a hedgehog formation.

The soldiers of the cart battalion, each man with an iron shovel in hand, were drenched in sweat as they dug and piled earth.

Under the bombardment of the enemy's cannon, the wooden cart bodies and shields could not withstand a single blow. They had to be reinforced with packed earth!

Unfortunately, this was the season of bitter cold and frozen ground! Not only was the surface of the Dawen River frozen rock-hard, but the earth all around Turtle Mountain was frozen too. An iron shovel driven down with full force could only scoop up a tiny bit of soil.

Yet the Ming army, from top to bottom, worked as if possessed. Whether cart soldiers, infantry, cavalry, or artillerymen, none had rested from yesterday daytime until now.

Whatever use their efforts might actually be, this kind of drive was something the Ming armies of the past could not match — well, that was not quite right either; two hundred and some years earlier, there had still been Ming soldiers who worked this hard.

After a full day and night, Shi Kefa, Gao Hongtu, Zuo Maodi, and Huang Degong all had eyes red from exhaustion. The four sat within the command tent of the main camp on the slope of Turtle Mountain, listening as staff officers reported the losses of the rearguard units.

"Supreme Commander, the count is done. At least twelve hundred men have not returned."

Shi Kefa sighed. "Have all the names been recorded?"

"All recorded!"

"Keep the roster safe," Shi Kefa said. "They all gave their lives defending the Confucian Grove, achieving benevolence and righteousness. These are all saints of the Confucian faith, and in the future they must all be enshrined in the Confucian Temple. If their families can be found, they are to be granted land in Shandong, to defend Confucius for generations to come!"

Shi Kefa was a Confucian commander, after all!

Of course he had to use Confucian principles to stir men's hearts! The Qufu trained army had been formed precisely to protect the Confucian Grove, and now, fighting a bloody battle to the death for Confucius's tomb against the army of the Great Qing's tomb-robbing Imperial Ama, they had achieved benevolence. This was martyrdom in defense of the faith — all of them great Confucians! Canonizing them as saints and enshrining them in the Confucian Temple was only right — by the time this war was over, the Confucian Temple would likely have become a shrine to the loyal dead. How many spirit tablets of saintly great Confucians would have to be placed inside?

With saintly great Confucians multiplying like that, it was plainly a great flourishing of Confucianism! How delighted the venerable Confucius himself must be!

"Supreme Commander, the ground is frozen. The men below dug all night and wasted their strength." Another staff officer then reported on the progress of the defensive works.

Shi Kefa glanced at Huang Degong. Huang Degong said, "Then stop digging. Let them rest a while and have a good meal!"

Shi Kefa nodded. "Then so be it — a good meal: wheat-flour flatbreads wrapped around salted pork, and one liang of wine for each man."

"Yes."

At once the staff officer in charge of the army's provisions acknowledged the order and went down to make arrangements.

Shi Kefa then asked, "When can His Majesty arrive?"

"At the earliest, tonight."

"Once His Majesty's troops arrive, victory is certain for us!"

"That's right. The eastern barbarians number at most fifty-some thousand. We have over forty thousand here, and His Majesty can bring over thirty thousand more. Combined, that is at least eighty thousand men. However you count it, we win."

"If we win this, we will have rendered great service indeed!"

Shi Kefa nodded and looked up at the sky. It was still early morning; clearly a bitter fight was unavoidable today.

A watchtower cart raised its observation basket outside Baijia Village, seven or eight li from the Turtle Mountain high ground. Because the Ming army had seized the high ground first, Dorgon's Qing army had no choice but to form up on flat ground. To obtain a better vantage for observing the enemy's formation and movements, he had ordered several watchtower carts converted from grain wagons.

Beneath the white banner of the Plain White Banner commander, Dorgon held a single-tube telescope and swept his gaze over the Turtle Mountain battlefield.

The terrain of the Turtle Mountain battlefield had hills and water, villages and woods. The hill was the Turtle Mountain high ground, right at the center of the battlefield — not particularly tall, but high enough to command a view of the field. The water was the Dawen River, already frozen solid, as good as nonexistent.

As for villages, there were three or four, but all had been abandoned, leaving only broken walls and ruins — this area had been a seesaw battleground between Ming and Qing over the past two or three years, so naturally no common folk lived there anymore.

The woods were concentrated on the eastern side of the battlefield, behind Li Village and Niujia Village, where a large stretch of forest lay.

At present the Ming army held the hill with the river at its back, while the Qing army occupied four villages — Little Wang Village, Baijia Village, Li Village, and Niujia Village — deploying a front of more than twenty li opposite Turtle Mountain.

The reason for deploying such a wide front was, on the one hand, that Dorgon's army consisted mainly of cavalry and mounted infantry, which required ample room to maneuver and neither needed nor could form overly dense ranks.

On the other hand, it was to control the two strongpoints of Li Village and Niujia Village, while also holding the large stretch of forest behind the two villages — Dorgon had concealed part of his forces within and behind this forest to serve as a surprise force.

This time he had brought a total of 139 old Eight Banner companies (including Han and Mongol Eight Banner units) and 105 Plain Green Banner companies, plus the booi bondservants of the old Eight Banner companies, for a total strength of over 78,000 men (over 67,000 excluding the booi). But he had hidden one-third of them — nearly 26,000 men — within and behind the forest. What he displayed to the Ming army was only a little over fifty thousand.

The Ming army forming the cart formation numbered around forty-some thousand. They had used wagons and shields to build a great square formation that from a distance looked almost like a castle. The "castle" was very low, less than the height of a man, and from its top protruded countless long spears, their tips gleaming coldly in the sunlight — somewhat fearsome.

"Prince Who Pacifies the South, you have spent these past two years on the Shandong and Henan fronts, fighting the Qufu army many times. What do you make of this cart formation of theirs?"

Having spoken, Dorgon beckoned to Shang Kexi, the Prince Who Pacifies the South, who sat on horseback beneath the watchtower cart.

Shang Kexi was now one of the three banner commanders of the Plain Green Banner and had also been enfeoffed as Prince Who Pacifies the South. His princely establishment was not in Shandong but in Shangqiu, Henan. However, the Henan front had been relatively quiet over the past two years, so Shang Kexi had frequently marched troops into Shandong and was an old adversary of the Qufu trained army.

Shang Kexi, in green helmet and green armor, climbed up to the watchtower platform and stood hunched beside Dorgon — he was a big man, more than a full size larger than Dorgon, so he had to hunch a little to appear modest and courteous.

"Imperial Ama," Shang Kexi also produced a telescope and took a look, then said, "A cart formation is just that — cavalry cannot charge through it, and it is hard to assault with infantry either, but it cannot withstand cannon fire unless it is packed with earth. But it is cold today and the ground is frozen; it would have to be thawed with fire before digging. They have no time to thaw the ground, so they can only endure our cannon.

Still, the Qufu trained army is fierce, and Huang Degong's Huaibei troops are no easy fight either. We must certainly be careful."

Dorgon nodded. "We too have heard of the Qufu trained army's reputation. Invulnerable to blade and shot, they say! Yet from yesterday morning until this morning, did we not kill over a thousand of them? And how many did we lose? Fewer than three hundred."

The fighting power of the old Eight Banners was still formidable; even the Qufu trained army was no match for them, and moreover Dorgon had brought cannon to bear!

"Indeed," Shang Kexi at once flattered him. "How could they be a match for Imperial Ama? Once Imperial Ama makes his move, whether Qufu trained army or the new army that overcomes hardship, all will be utterly annihilated!"

Dorgon burst into loud laughter, laughed a few times, then waved his hand. "Begin! Strike hard, and let them learn the might of our Great Qing artillery!"

(End of Chapter)