Chapter 123: Withdrawing Troops

According to the rules of the Eight Banners, when returning from a campaign, whoever could bring back the bodies of the fallen would have that family offer corresponding goods as thanks.

With the tacit permission of the Ming army, the booi bondservants went forward and carried back the bodies of the fallen Qing soldiers. Due to the hot weather, the corpses could not be preserved, so they could only be cremated and the ashes brought back. As for ashes that could not be identified as belonging to whom—did that matter? After all, their own kin were truly dead.

Ajige watched the several hundred clay jars being loaded onto carts, fury burning in his heart.

When had the Great Qing ever suffered such a loss? These damned Ming dogs! For every Eight Banners warrior who died, I will cut down a hundred Ming soldiers' heads in revenge!

When I return, Old Eight will surely mock me! Perhaps he will use excessive losses and disgrace to the Eight Banners' reputation as a pretext to strip away niru and property under my name!

If I claim I faced Ming elite troops, that would only invite resentment from the other banner masters!

Ming elite troops? Their elites were all wiped out long ago at the Battle of Dalinghe!

Since then, our Great Qing has never lost to the Ming army!

No! I cannot let this go! This Ming force is not yet fully mature, but the shape of an elite unit has already emerged! Once this Ming army grows up, our Great Qing may no longer be able to contend with the Ming court for the realm!

The household servants of the great families watching from the arrow tower on the city wall were first startled by the thunderous roar of the red barbarian cannon, then witnessed the arquebuses slaughtering Qing archers, until the grenadiers used thunderclap bombs to blast the Qing troops—only then did they finally understand how brutal and terrifying real battle was. Lives were snuffed out in an instant, nothing like the simple tales in storybooks where, with a laugh, the enemy is routed and we triumph. Victory and defeat were truly built on piles of corpses.

The Qing army's horn sounded once more. Geng Zhongming's Han Banner troops split off and charged toward the cheval-de-frise formations on both flanks of the Ming army. This time was different—Qing archers followed close behind, shielding the Han Banner troops as they dismantled the obstacles, while Gengge'er and Danba's Mongol Eight Banners waited in the rear, ready to charge the moment the barriers were cleared.

The Ming arquebusiers had sat down to rest, drink water, and eat while the Qing troops cleared away the corpses, conserving their strength. The scorching heat caused tremendous loss of energy, so fluids and nourishment had to be replenished promptly.

The Han Banner troops rapidly approached the remaining cheval-de-frise obstacles from both flanks. This time the entire Han Banner force was committed, with over two thousand men on each side, prepared to smash through the barriers at any cost in one all-out push.

Just then, the cannons on the city wall roared. Last time, only the four cannons directly facing the arquebus square had fired; the two cannons aimed at the area before the cheval-de-frise had not been discharged. Seeing the Qing army commit in force, Sun Yingyuan held nothing back. At his command, amid the thunderous din, two cannonballs screamed from the muzzles, traced arcs through the air, and slammed down before the cheval-de-frise lines.

The cannonballs struck the ground, bounced twice, and each took the lives of over ten Qing soldiers, with the wounded numbering several dozen more. Given the medical conditions of this era, the wounded were nearly equivalent to the dead.

Knowing that cannons fired slowly, the Qing troops charged headlong regardless.

The Ming archers behind the cheval-de-frise had long since set up over a dozen "Hundred Tigers Galloping" frames. At the order of the battalion officer in command, these dozen-odd ancient rocket launchers were ignited simultaneously. As the fuses burned rapidly, a piercing shriek filled the sky—over a thousand long arrows shot forth, careening wildly in the air with no fixed direction before arcing down into the massed Qing soldiers below.

The Qing troops had never imagined that from several hundred paces away they could be struck not only by cannon fire but also blanketed by arrows. Amid cries of agony and shock, several hundred Qing soldiers were hit by arrows, with over a hundred killed on the spot.

The Han Banner troops were all former Ming soldiers whom Geng Zhongming and Kong Youde had brought over when they defected. Though their fighting ability had greatly improved under the Qing army's strict discipline, their old cowardly nature still lurked in their bones. Seeing that they had already lost over ten percent of their number before even making contact, their forward charge slowed, and the soldiers in the front ranks began to drag their feet.

A Han Banner commander pushed through the crowd, cut down a hesitant soldier in the front rank with his blade, and roared: "Any who shrink back shall die!"

Only then did the mass of Han Banner soldiers surge forward again.

The Han Banner troops also had many gunners, but they used old-fashioned arquebuses whose range fell far short of the Yongwei Camp's new firearms and gunpowder—not even matching the range of bows. Had they tried to form up and volley fire, they would have been cut down by Ming archers before even entering range, so the Qing sent their own Eight Banners archers to provide cover.

These Qing archers used longbows and heavy arrows, shot with precision, and had slightly greater range than the Ming. Reaching a point seventy paces from the Ming lines first, the Qing archers halted. Three hundred archers drew their bows, nocked their arrows, and loosed at the Ming troops.

The Ming shield bearers raised their great shields to cover the front, but still several dozen Ming soldiers fell with arrows in them. By then the Han Banner troops had advanced within sixty paces. The Ming archers swiftly returned fire, and arrows flew back and forth through the air between the two sides as soldiers on both sides kept dropping. Under the cover of their shields, the Qing troops had already begun tearing down the obstacles.

This time the Ming grenadiers did not advance. The Qing archers were too formidable—if a hundred or so grenadiers went to the front, they would likely all be casualties in the blink of an eye. Following the signal flags from the center, the pikemen began moving forward, preparing for close combat.

The remaining cheval-de-frise were quickly cleared by the Qing troops. Both sides' archers, exhausted, withdrew. After paying a cost of nearly a thousand casualties, the Han Banner troops on both flanks finally opened a clear path between the two armies.

The Ming casualties came from the Qing archers. Though they inflicted heavy losses on the Han Banner troops, their arrows could not reach the Qing archers due to range limitations, leaving them to suffer passively. In the end, including the shield bearers, total casualties exceeded five hundred—a casualty rate of over twenty percent. Fortunately, the archers were well protected; their cotton armor was interwoven with many iron plates, which absorbed a great deal of the damage. Apart from those struck in the head or neck and killed outright, the rest were not severely wounded, but they had lost their combat effectiveness.

In the distance, the Mongol Eight Banners had already mounted their horses. The Han Banner troops withdrew from both sides, and the Mongol Eight Banners began advancing at a trot, with nearly three thousand riders on each flank.

As the warhorses gradually picked up speed, the cannons on the city wall thundered once more.

The cannonball ignored everything in its path, plowing a bloody furrow through the densely charging cavalry. The tremendous kinetic energy generated between the horses charging at full speed and the cannonball still hurtling forward after landing claimed the lives of several dozen Mongol riders—yet it could not halt the momentum of the massed cavalry charge.

Three thousand Ming pikemen formed a square of five ranks, packed tightly together. The front rank planted the butts of their twelve-foot pikes diagonally into the ground, braced them firmly with their feet, and gripped the shafts with both hands, angling the points forward. The second rank rested their pikes on the shoulders of the men in front. The entire formation bristled like a hedgehog, fearsome to behold.

A dozen-odd paces before the pike square, over twenty short, stubby tiger-crouch cannons had been set in place, their two tiger-feet firmly pinned to the ground by long iron stakes. Each barrel was packed with over a hundred lead pellets mixed with gravel as small shot, then topped with a single heavy lead ball weighing thirty taels. Behind each cannon, two gunners crouched holding torches.

The tiger-crouch cannon had a range of only thirty-odd paces, but each discharge of over a hundred pellets covered an area approaching five zhang, making its killing power immense.

This type of cannon was normally used to support infantry charges, for once a tiger-crouch cannon fired, one could say nothing living would remain within several dozen paces ahead. After firing, the gunners could withdraw at leisure.

But against cavalry, even if the front ranks of riders were mowed down, the rear ranks would come thundering right behind—the gunners would have no chance to escape. Using tiger-crouch cannons against cavalry was a one-shot affair; the gunners could hardly hope to survive.

Yet without some obstacle to slow them down, cavalry charging at full speed would smash through the infantry formation after paying only the cost of their front ranks—the outcome of that was all too easy to imagine.

The Yongwei Camp gunners knew full well it was a death trap, yet they still accepted the order and placed the cannons before the formation.

The Qing troops had charged to within a hundred paces, their horses at full gallop. In a few breaths they would crash into the formation.

At a shrill blast of the trumpet, the gunners lit their fuses and sprinted to both sides. Immediately after came a deafening roar—smoke billowed up, slowly shrouding the battlefield.

Several hundred riders in the Mongol Eight Banners' front ranks had already drawn their bows at over a hundred paces, ready to loose their arrows in a few breaths. They were unfamiliar with the tiger-crouch cannons the Ming had deployed—and even if they had known, there was nowhere to dodge. When a mass of cavalry is charging at full gallop, where exactly do you hide?

Over two thousand pellets sprayed outward in a fan shape, dealing devastating destruction to the Qing cavalry within a hundred-odd zhang. Four to five hundred Qing soldiers were killed on the spot. Both horses and men were riddled with countless bloody holes, blood gushing out like springs. The parched earth rapidly drank up the blood, and in moments the area turned into a muddy quagmire.

As the smoke spread, the fallen horses and Qing corpses on the ground became new obstacles, and many of the following riders were tripped and sent tumbling. The Mongols truly deserved their reputation as a people born to horseback—the riders in the rear reacted swiftly, leaping their horses over the obstructions on the ground, and none were tripped again. But in doing so, their speed naturally dropped considerably, allowing the Ming gunners to withdraw safely.

Ajige gave the order to retreat. They could not keep fighting—the cavalry's advantage was gone. Were they supposed to hurl themselves onto the pikes? They could only pull back for now.

The Mongol Eight Banners had always been weaker in willpower than the Manchu Eight Banners—otherwise they would not have been conquered by the numerically smaller banners. Upon hearing the retreat horn, they wheeled their horses in a wide arc before the Ming lines and galloped back, getting hit by cannon fire once more on the way and leaving behind a dozen-odd corpses as they retreated in disarray.

The Plain White Banner cavalry facing the arquebus square also dismounted. They had originally planned to wait for the Mongol Eight Banners to break through the pike square, forcing the pikemen into disorder and crashing into the arquebus formation, then strike from the front—but both flanks had failed.

The Qing army had marched from Juyong Pass to Changping and fought several battles along the way, and under the blazing sun they were utterly exhausted. Seeing this, Ajige ordered the entire army to drink water and eat, then convened with Abatai and the others to discuss their next move.

Abatai spoke up first: "We cannot fight any longer! As I said before, let us head east to join forces with Tan Tai, break through a few county towns to seize supplies, and then hurry back to Shengjing! There is something strange about this Ming army at Changping!"

Geng Zhongming, who had remained silent until now, clasped his hands and said: "Your Highness, what Beile Abatai says makes sense! This subordinate feels that the Ming army came prepared this time—it seems very much like they were waiting specifically for us to attack. Since our losses are not yet too heavy, this subordinate believes we should avoid them for now!"

Gengge'er spoke up: "Prince, let us head east. If our boys die, they die—we can gather them up later, burn them, and carry the ashes home! If we keep fighting, we will only lose more. Even if we destroy this Ming force, how many men will we have left? If other Ming troops rush to reinforce, I fear we will not be able to get away!"

Danba also urged: "Prince, we came to plunder, not to fight to the death! If we lose our lives, what use are the goods? Fortunately this Ming force has no large cavalry contingent—if we leave, they cannot stop us. Let us withdraw!"

Ajige sat with a dark face, head bowed, saying nothing.

He truly could not bear to retreat. After losing so many men and gaining nothing in the end, what kind of fate awaited him back in Shengjing? This still-warm title of Duoluo Prince Wuying would be gone. Whether he kept his banner was not a concern—after all, only his younger brother Dodo could succeed him; no one else would dare covet it. But Old Eight would certainly seize the opportunity to take niru from under his banner. That was the rule of the Eight Banners—no one would speak up for him.

But everything Abatai and the others said made sense. A decision had to be made.

Ajige gave the order through gritted teeth: "Send the booi to gather the remains, burn them, and pack them up. We head east to join forces with Tan Tai! I refuse to believe this Ming army dares to follow!"