Chapter 832: The Traitor Blinded, the Traitor Deafened (Please Subscribe, Please Send Monthly Tickets)

Forty-odd riders on mules, leading horses by the reins, swept like the wind through the boundless night. Though it was dark, these cavalrymen who had horses but chose to ride mules could not light torches and risk exposing their movements.

For they were the Ming army's mule soldiers, and they had now entered the territory of the Great Qing!

Xia Wanchun of Songjiang Prefecture rode at the head on his mule, an eight-foot horse lance slung across his back, leading the column. Beside him trotted a squat, plump Hequ horse with no rider; its reins were tied to the saddle of Xia Wanchun's mule, and the mule pulled the horse along as it ran.

Behind Xia Wanchun were forty more riders, all like him riding mules and leading horses, though their weapons differed. Twenty of them carried firelocks on their backs, muzzles pointed upward, no bayonets fixed. Ten carried bows and arrows, and the remaining ten, like Xia Wanchun, carried long lances.

Clearly, this was also a unit of black-lance cavalry, but unlike the black-lance troops of the northern frontier, they were equipped with flintlocks.

Flintlocks were far handier than matchlocks! First of all, there was no open flame, so one could use flintlocks at night for ambushes or night raids. With matchlocks, once the match cord was lit, the scattered sparks would give you away at once to any enemy who was not asleep.

Second, flintlocks loaded faster, and faster loading meant faster shooting! And faster shooting naturally meant fiercer firepower!

Third, flintlocks were less prone to accidental discharge! Matchlocks, because of their open flame, could easily ignite the powder in the priming pan if one was careless, and that meant an accidental shot. An accidental discharge during an ambush would give away your position.

Moreover, the sparks thrown out by one accidental discharge could easily ignite the priming pans of the firelocks arrayed nearby, so if matchlock troops were packed too densely, "discharge accidents" became likely. For that reason, matchlock formations were generally loose; but after upgrading to flintlocks, men could stand shoulder to shoulder and fire in ranks.

Xia Wanchun — who had originally been an instructor at the Nanjing Military Academy (his father was Xia Yunyi, a jinshi of the eighteenth year of Chongzhen; he himself had been a man of letters, but he had come of age during the years when the civil examinations were suspended, and so, recommended by his fellow townsman Xu Ermo, he had entered the academy, graduated, and stayed on to teach) — upon encountering flintlocks imported from Holland, immediately recognized their immense military value!

He at once submitted a report requesting a transfer, and became a company commander in the First Mounted Firelock Regiment — because he had never seen battle, his rank was not high, only enough to qualify as a company commander.

But Xia Wanchun was full of confidence in his military career!

So as soon as the order came down from above, he led his company, found a shallow stretch of the canal, crossed into Qing territory, then split his force into three and began sweeping away the Qing army's scout riders and patrols.

No matter the era, when two armies face off, it always begins with reconnaissance and counter-reconnaissance!

Because the battlefield is always shrouded in "fog," even the finest general must rely on scouts or other means of reconnaissance to gather intelligence, grasp the enemy's situation, and then devise a targeted plan of operations.

If one side's reconnaissance is completely suppressed by the enemy, then it becomes blind and deaf. However great a warrior's skill, however strong his arm, once he is blind and deaf, he can hit no one.

And on the battlefields of the Ming-Qing struggle, the primary means of reconnaissance was cavalry. Scouts, outriders, night patrols — all were essentially cavalry.

So whichever side had the stronger cavalry could usually gather more intelligence while blinding and deafening the enemy.

In the earlier Ming northern expedition, the Qing army had relied on its enormous cavalry superiority to hold the initiative throughout. Had Dorgon not relied on his cavalry's strength to seal off Zhu Cilang's line of sight while gathering ample battlefield intelligence, how could he have defeated a stronger Ming force with weaker troops, or gone to Qufu to overturn the Sage Confucius's measure?

But now, the Great Ming had found a way to deal with the Qing cavalry!

"Halt!"

Xia Wanchun shouted, reining in the hinny beneath him (hinnies were easier to obtain than mules, so most of the Ming mule soldiers were mounted on hinnies).

The mule soldiers following him saw him stop and reined in as well. Those armed with firelocks handed their mules and the horses they were leading to their comrades, dismounted, and formed a security perimeter with weapons ready.

Three squad leaders and a platoon leader came up to Xia Wanchun and awaited his orders.

Xia Wanchun raised his riding crop and pointed at a village ahead where firelight showed through. He said to his four subordinates, "That village looks interesting. The houses are packed close, and there seem to be watchtowers. With all those torches and lanterns burning at this hour, there's likely a Qing cavalry unit inside! Let's hit it and see!"

"Company Commander," the flintlock squad leader immediately volunteered, "leave it to me! I have twenty flintlocks. There can't be more than a hundred Qing troops in that village — one volley will drive them out."

He was not boasting. The Qing troops here in Shandong were not the formidable old-Manchu soldiers of the Eight Banners. With twenty flintlocks in a surprise attack, was there any fear of failing to beat a hundred-odd Green Standard troops?

Xia Wanchun nodded and said to the horse-archer squad leader, "The horse archers will provide cover. If the flintlock troops pull out, you shoot."

"Yes, sir!"

Xia Wanchun then said to the platoon leader of the mule-soldier platoon he had brought, "You take overall command of the flintlock troops and horse archers. I'll take the lancers around to the other side and set an ambush."

"Yes, sir!" The mule-soldier platoon leader cupped his hands and accepted the order.

Xia Wanchun's deployment could not be called brilliant, but this kind of small-unit night raid behind enemy lines was an extreme test of a unit's morale.

In the old-style Ming army, not to mention ordinary soldiers who could not eat their fill, even household retainers would not necessarily have been willing to carry out such a death-defying mission with their heads hanging from their belts.

But the Ming army's "mule cavalry" of today dared to do it!

Because this unit was not only well paid, it had also undergone long and rigorous training, and most importantly, it was staffed with large numbers of officers graduated from the military academy.

Its combat effectiveness and morale were among the highest in the present Ming army — nothing at all like the hundred-odd grain-raiding cavalry under Sun Yanji resting tonight in Xiaozhang Village.

Sun Yanji was also a son of Sun Long and the elder brother of Sun Yanling. Because he was born of a maidservant, his standing in the Sun family was not high, and he was left with odd jobs and errands.

And for Sun Long, currently holding Anping Fortress, the most urgent matter was to obtain enough money and grain. With money and grain, one could have soldiers!

With soldiers, one could hold Anping Fortress!

Only by holding it would he have the capital to bargain with the Great Ming. Empty-handed would not do — he had to secure at least a hundred thousand mu of land for himself and his brothers to live on.

They had been brothers through thick and thin, fighting and bleeding together for so many years; he could not let them end up destitute in old age, begging for food in Jiangnan!

And Sun Yanji was quite happy to carry out these grain- and money-seizing missions. For one thing, he could skim a little into his own pocket; for another, there would be a pretty little girl to warm his bed — far more pleasant and free than staying in Anping Castle.

Tonight, Young Master Sun had once again played the bridegroom. Just as he was hard at work, he suddenly heard crackling sounds outside, like firecrackers going off somewhere.

What happy occasion was this? Could it be that his cheap father-in-law was setting off firecrackers? No — this was gunfire, wasn't it?

The thought had barely crossed Sun Yanji's mind when — bang! — the door was smashed open, startling both him and the girl. Amid the girl's screams, Young Master Sun turned his head and saw a disheveled, panic-stricken middle-aged man staring at him with bulging eyes.

"Leopard-Head Li, what's happened?" Sun Yanji already knew something had gone wrong.

"Young Master, the Ming army is attacking! The Ming army is here!"

As if to confirm his words, another crisp volley of gunfire rang out.

Crack-crack-crack.

"Young Master," Leopard-Head Li said, his voice trembling, "there are at least thirty firelocks firing in volley, and they've already fired one round — that means at least sixty firelocks firing in rotation! Add the lancers and sword-and-shield men, and there are at least two hundred of them! Twice our number!"

"Quick, quickly muster the brothers!" Sun Yanji was already panicking. "We'll fight them to the death!"

(End of Chapter)