Chapter 368: Tragic and Stirring

Just as the orders from Van Dyck reached Van Woodgate, the Ming cavalry had already swept down like a whirlwind, cutting down the Dutch artillerymen on both flanks to the last man.

The Dutch had indeed been careless this time—they had not provided their artillery with adequate protection as they would have on European battlefields.

From the very beginning until just now, Van Dyck and the others had held the Ming army in deep contempt.

In all the information and intelligence they had received, there was a shared understanding of the Ming army's combat effectiveness and equipment: the Ming forces were universally undisciplined, poorly equipped, lacking rigorous training in peacetime, and could be easily defeated.

Even more important was the intelligence that the Ming's elite troops were locked in fierce battle with rebels at home, and those sent to Taiwan were second-rate or even third-rate troops, utterly incapable of putting up a fight.

These pieces of information combined to breed carelessness and arrogance in Van Dyck and the Dutch officers. Add to that their utter failure to anticipate that the Ming army even had cavalry—this was what led to the complete annihilation of their artillerymen.

Though the Ming force was only a small cavalry detachment, it was more than enough to inflict devastating casualties on artillerymen who had no means of self-defense.

And Van Dyck's hasty order had also been a mistake—the Dutch pikemen had already formed up and launched their charge against the Ming army; even if they received the order, they could no longer turn around to protect the artillery.

Because by this time, the Ming spear square was rapidly closing toward the center, and the pikemen simply could not turn back anymore.

Just as the Ming spearmen were hastily gathering and forming their ranks, the Dutch pikemen advanced with their five-meter-long pikes held level.

The Dutch pikemen wore uniform steel breastplates on their upper bodies, tight trousers without armor below, short leather boots on their feet, and wide-brimmed soft hats on their heads. The steel pike tips gleamed with a blinding cold light, striking fear into all who beheld them.

The two hundred Ming spearmen on the left flank had not been caught in the artillery fire just now, but the rout of the musketeers had dampened their morale somewhat.

Yet every soldier knew well that the spearmen's duty was to protect the musketeers, so at the Company Commander's shouted commands, each man swiftly formed up into ranks of fifty, awaiting the arrival of the Dutch pikemen.

"Raise spears!"

"Thrust!"

Following the rhythm of the war drums, the Ming spearmen thrust their weapons forward with all their might, while the Dutch pikemen launched their attack at the same moment.

Amidst a chorus of screams, the first exchange of thrusts dealt the Ming army a heavy blow.

Because the Dutch pikes were not only sharper, but far too long.

Pikes a full fifteen feet long and four fingers wide rendered the Ming spears—just over ten feet—utterly useless.

They couldn't even reach the enemy before being run through by the pikes.

The Ming soldiers realized what was happening even as they thrust their spears. Some of the quicker-witted ones, in sheer terror, desperately batted aside the pikes aimed at them—the unique elasticity of the white waxwood spear shafts proved its worth in that moment.

Though the Dutch pike shafts were hard and heavy, their thrusts were not delivered with full force; they relied on finesse and the razor-sharp tips to pierce through the enemy's armor.

Under the deflection of the Ming spears, some pikes lost their force and direction, allowing a portion of the Ming soldiers to narrowly escape death. But many slower to react were run straight through their cotton armor, the sharp tips plunging deep into their bodies.

Wang Shuangui, the spear Company Commander standing in the first rank, felt utter despair after batting aside the pike thrust at him.

Hearing the constant screams of agony from his men, Wang Shuangui's heart felt as though it were being twisted with knives.

He knew full well that if this exchange of thrusts continued, these brothers he had lived alongside day and night for years would all die here with him today.

His mind racing, Wang Shuangui let out a tiger's roar. Seizing the instant when the Dutch were drawing back their pikes for another thrust, he hurled his spear at the enemy with all his strength, then lunged forward bodily, clamping several Dutch pike shafts that were being withdrawn under his arms. Eyes blazing red, he bellowed with all his might: "Strike through me!"

The Dutch whose pikes were trapped struggled desperately to pull them back, but the explosive burst of strength from Wang Shuangui left them unable to budge them.

With a "thunk," a sharp pike pierced clean through Wang Shuangui's head, while another drove deep into his ribs.

These were pikes thrust in from an angle by quick-reacting Dutch soldiers, snatching away Wang Shuangui's young life in an instant. But his body stood upright, unyielding—his eyes still wide open, glaring at the enemy ahead, his arms still clamped firmly around several pike shafts.

"Fuck your mother! Red-haired devils!"

"Company Commander!"

"Your grandmother's cunt!"

"Shuangui!"

"Your grandpa will fight you to the death!"

Witnessing Wang Shuangui's heroic sacrifice, the stubborn, hot-blooded nature ingrained in the bones of Shandong men erupted all at once.

The dozen or so soldiers who had not been struck hurled their spears with furious curses, then threw themselves bodily at the Dutch. The Ming soldiers in the rear ranks abandoned all formation, shouting curses as they charged forward in chaos with leveled spears.

Caught off guard, several Dutch soldiers were struck in the arms or legs by the thrown spears and lost their combat ability, but most of the Dutch still thrust their recovered pikes forward.

Every Ming soldier who charged forward was run through by one pike or several, but this time no screams of agony rang out.

Most of the Ming soldiers struck died on the spot. Some, gravely wounded but not yet dead, coughed up chunks of blood and flesh while still cursing aloud—such a tragic and stirring scene filled the Dutch with terror.

The Ming soldiers in the rear surged forward like madmen, stabbing and thrusting wildly at the Dutch now within reach. The Dutch in the back ranks stabbed back through the gaps, while Ming spearmen from behind continuously joined the melee. Both sides quickly descended into chaotic close combat.

At this critical moment, Wu Qun charged up with the rear force. More than twenty grenadiers each found their positions, lit the fuses of their thunderclap bombs with slow matches, counted silently in their hearts, and when the fuses had nearly burned down into the bombs, leaned back, swung their arms, and hurled the thunderclap bombs with all their might at the rear ranks of the Dutch pikemen.

With a continuous series of explosions, the densely packed Dutch pikemen in the rear were blasted into screaming chaos. A large swath of open ground was cleared between the front and rear ranks. Dozens of Dutch soldiers were blown to the ground, severed limbs flying everywhere, blood and shredded flesh scattered across the earth. The morale of the Dutch pikemen suffered a severe blow.

Several dozen Ming archers took up positions and formed a small square. Protected by a hundred sword-and-shield men, they began lofting arrows at the still-dense Dutch pikemen, while Wu Qun led the remaining sword-and-shield men in a direct assault on the Dutch pikemen's flank.

Soon, under the Ming army's combined layered assault of long and short weapons at close and far range, the hundred-odd Dutch pikemen in the front ranks were cut down to the last man. The Dutch in the rear ranks, seized by panic, began to rout backward.

On a gentle slope not far away, Van Dyck watched all this in stunned disbelief, his mind a complete blank. In his desperation, he could think of no good way to respond to what was unfolding on the field.

"Colonel! We've failed! Please order the musketeers to form squares and cover a staggered retreat!"

Van Tef shouted at Van Dyck, his face filled with despair.

"No! We cannot retreat! The Ming army will not allow us to withdraw in an orderly fashion! Lieutenant! You go command the musketeers to close with the pikemen! The heavy musketeers will cover you! A few men, protect the Lieutenant!"

Van Dyck, his face drained of all color, shook his head and rejected Van Tef's suggestion.

He knew in his heart that both sides had suffered heavy losses, but the Ming forces still vastly outnumbered his own.

The battlefield was already in complete chaos—if he gave the order to retreat now, it would almost certainly become a total rout. Under pursuit by the Ming army, very few would escape.

Only by organizing effective resistance and inflicting heavy casualties on the Ming army once more could they have a chance to fall back to the coast. Then, under the cover of naval gunfire, the Ming army would be unable to approach, and only then might they have a slim hope of survival.

"As you command, Colonel!"

Van Tef raised his hand in a military salute, then ran with several of Van Dyck's guards toward the musketeer square not far away.

And at that very moment, the Ming cavalry that had destroyed the Dutch right-flank artillery position spotted Van Dyck on the gentle slope less than two li away. A squad leader leading the detachment spurred his horse and charged this way with more than twenty riders.

On the right flank, Hu Yong led his men galloping toward the Dutch musketeers on the left. Seeing this, Chen Dashuan gave the order, and the entire right-flank Ming force pressed forward against the Dutch as well.

The Ming cavalry's surprise attack threw the Dutch musketeers into complete disorder. The twenty-odd riders made contact with the Dutch flank, then broke away immediately, showing no intention of lingering to fight.

Meanwhile, the musketeers on the right flank calmly formed their ranks amid the Dutch confusion. After six uninterrupted volleys of fire, nearly a hundred Dutch musketeers had been struck down.

Then the spearmen seized the moment to advance rapidly, carrying out close-range slaughter against the Dutch.

Fan Tefu only had time to reach the right wing nearest to him, where he saw the left wing already in a one-sided rout, but he could only watch helplessly as the Dutch troops on the left were surrounded and slaughtered single-handedly by Ming spearmen.

When Fan and Dike's guards spotted the Ming cavalry charging to within close range, any attempt to block them was utterly impossible—more than twenty riders swept past the gentle slope where Fan and Dike stood like a whirlwind, leaving behind the screams and wails of the Dutch.

Fan and Dike's corpse lay face-up, eyes wide open staring at the sky, his face filled with terror and disbelief, his neck and head connected only by a thin strip of skin, with great gushes of blood pouring forth.

The sharp Ming saber had nearly severed his head entirely. This Dutch colonel, who had weathered numerous battles on European battlefields, had never imagined he would die one day on foreign soil—his contempt for the Ming army carried him into the eternal darkness of endless night with boundless regret.

With the collapse of the Dutch left wing, Chen Dasuan's right-wing Ming forces, along with two small cavalry units that had suffered minimal losses, also joined the battle to besiege the Dutch right wing.

The besieged Dutch right wing did not hold out long under the assault from all sides.

With the deaths of Fan Tefu and Fan Wudegete, the remaining hundred-odd Dutch soldiers tried to surrender their weapons as they had on European battlefields, but due to the language barrier their attempts failed, and in the end they were cut down to the last man by the enraged Ming troops.

As for the thousand natives, aside from a few who saw the situation turning bad and fled into the mountains, most became prisoners of the Ming army—these men were naturally put to use as laborers, and would ultimately be treated differently according to their individual performance.

In the end, this first large-scale battle between the Dutch and the Ming forces concluded with a resounding victory for the Ming army.