Chapter 104: The Unyielding Tartars

The next day, at ten in the morning, Li Chongzhen led seven thousand men from Changping to Shunyi and immediately went to pay his respects to Zhu Cilang.

Zhu Cilang gave Li Chongzhen detailed instructions for a while, ordering him to hold Shunyi and guard the city at all costs—if Shunyi fell again, he would bring out the imperial sword and start cutting heads.

Seeing the Crown Prince raise the imperial sword in his hand, Li Chongzhen's heart tightened. He hurriedly accepted the order, swore a military oath, and vowed to defend Shunyi to the death.

After finishing all his instructions, Zhu Cilang felt somewhat reassured and led the Three Great Camps out of Shunyi, heading straight for Huairou.

Huairou city was forty li from Shunyi. Zhu Cilang's army had barely marched ten li when word came from the Night Scouts ahead—there was a large force of Tartar cavalry about twenty li in front, roughly three thousand strong, apparently heading for Shunyi city.

Zhu Cilang looked at the finely drawn map in his hand and said calmly, "It seems the Tartars know Shunyi has fallen. This must be them coming to save face! The army continues forward—we'll form up at Mapo Bridge ahead."

On both banks of Mapo Bridge stood a lush grove of green trees, but the official road before the bridge was barren and open, with an unobstructed view of everything on the opposite side.

Before long, the army reached Mapo Bridge. Wang Wannian suggested, "Your Highness, let our Shenji Camp and Shenshu Camp fight this battle. Emperor Chengzu once said: muskets in front, cavalry behind. Our Shenji Camp can open fire with cannons first, then the Shenshu Camp charges in—we will surely shatter the slave rebels!"

Zhang Shize also seized the moment to request battle—clearly he and Wang Wannian had discussed it the night before. Both men were eager to win merit and gain face.

Zhu Cilang flatly refused to let the Shenji Camp join the fight. He didn't trust this bunch of pampered young masters. If the Shenji Camp made a mess of their cannon fire—fumbling nervously, blowing up their own men—and the Eight Banners took advantage to scatter them, the entire Three Great Camps would collapse.

Zhu Cilang looked at Zhang Shize and said, "The Yongwei Camp will engage the Tartars head-on. The Shenshu Camp's cavalry will hide in the woods on both sides, and when the Tartars waver and prepare to retreat, lead the men out to strike."

The front line had to be the Yongwei Camp—otherwise Zhu Cilang wouldn't feel at ease.

Though Zhang Shize didn't know why the Crown Prince was so certain the Tartars would retreat, the opportunity was rare. He excitedly clasped his fists and declared loudly, "Your subordinate obeys!"

Zhu Cilang nodded. "Then begin the deployment!"

Wang Wannian stood dumbly to one side, speechless. So from the start of the campaign, his Shenji Camp was the only one with nothing to do?

Zhu Cilang had originally held high hopes for the Shenji Camp, but seeing how they behaved on the march, he judged them unreliable and shelved them for now. He let them trail behind the army and pick up scraps—at least they hadn't dragged several hundred cannons through the scorching heat for nothing.

Two quarters of an hour later, red smoke kept shooting up in the sky ahead, passing from far to near in sequence. Zhu Cilang watched the red smoke drawing closer and knew it was the signal from the Longxianging Night Scouts—the Tartars were coming!

Huang Degong barked, "Prepare for battle!"

The Yongwei Camp soldiers had already formed their battle array behind Mapo Bridge, and the musketeers in the front line were calmly loading their powder and shot.

Wang Wannian and the other Shenji Camp officers, who had been watching from the sidelines, suddenly jumped up. Looking into the distance, they indeed saw a huge cloud of dust rolling toward them—the kind of dust kicked up only by a large force of Qing cavalry galloping at full speed.

Before long, a large banner of blue with a white border appeared before their eyes, followed by a vast expanse of blue flags. Beneath the dense forest of banners were the Plain Blue Banner soldiers of the Eight Banners, clad in blue armor.

Wang Wannian's heart pounded. "The Tartars' momentum is fierce! Good thing His Highness didn't let the Shenji Camp take the vanguard—otherwise the Shenji Camp might have suffered another Sarhu."

Zhang Shize, hidden in the woods on the opposite bank, peered through the leaves and saw the Eight Banner army surging forward like a blue ocean. As they drew closer, he felt the very earth tremble beneath the pounding of iron hooves.

Zhang Shize's heart pounded violently several times. Though this was the second time he'd seen the Tartar army, he was still nervous—after all, the last time had been on the city walls of Beijing seven years ago. This was field combat now, and the two experiences felt vastly different.

Zhang Shize looked around. Fortunately, the Shenshu Camp's cavalry remained fairly composed. Though many were so tense they couldn't help breathing in heavy gasps, they were far enough away that they wouldn't be exposed.

A large mass of Plain Blue Banner Qing cavalry came howling forward. When they reached two hundred paces from Mapo Bridge, they gradually slowed their horses, finally stopping about a hundred and fifty paces from the bridge.

Several scouts galloped out from the Qing cavalry, cautiously riding to the bridge to observe the Ming army's situation. Before long, they galloped back.

The Qing scouts reported: "Sir, the bridge is only wide enough for six horses abreast. The Ming barbarians are about two hundred zhang from the bridge—it won't hinder our army's charge!"

The Meiren Janggin at the head rode out from the ranks. He wore an iron helmet with a red tassel and a helmet-and-armor set with iron plates sewn inside, his cotton armor studded with thick brass nails, and a gleaming chest mirror over his breast.

Hearing the scouts' report, this Meiren Janggin's sweat-covered face took on an arrogant look. He laughed loudly: "These idiots—guarding a bridge but standing so far from it! What kind of bridge defense is that? Even if they have muskets, they can't shoot that far. Sure enough, few of the Ming barbarians know how to fight."

The flesh on his face twitched with menace as he said, "Pass my order—full charge! Kill every last one of these Ming soldiers within two quarters of an hour!"

A burst of shouts and yells rose from the Qing army. Some brandished long spears, others swung sabers, galloping at full speed in a line formation toward the Ming troops behind Mapo Bridge.

When the Qing cavalry was about to reach the bridge, the Ming troops opposite still hadn't moved at all. This made the Meiren Janggin somewhat curious, but in his eyes, any scheme or trick was useless against absolute strength. So he bellowed an order for the front line to accelerate and charge hard onto the bridge.

Zhu Cilang watched coldly as the Tartar soldiers closed in. When the Qing troops surged onto the bridge, Zhu Cilang waved his hand. The signalmen swiftly waved their command flags, drums sounded, and the artillerymen standing before the cannons turned and trotted to their positions, beginning to load.

The artillery commander gave a thunderous shout: "Fire!"

Deafening cannon thunder erupted. All the solid shot from the red barbarian cannons converged on the bridge, slamming viciously into the mass of Qing cavalry. Flesh and blood flew in all directions as men and horses kept collapsing—a chaos of screaming men and neighing horses.

The bridge was only so wide. Under the simultaneous impact of dozens of red barbarian cannonballs, the Tartar cavalry crossing the bridge were mercilessly slaughtered. The entire bridge was covered with mangled corpses, even the stone railings were blasted to pieces, sending stone chips flying everywhere.

The Meiren Janggin at the head turned ashen. He truly hadn't expected the barbarians to be so cunning—they'd actually hidden cannons!

The Jalan Janggin beside him hesitated: "Sir, do we still attack? Within ten li of here, this is the only proper bridge. The rest are single-log bridges that cavalry can't cross."

The Meiren Janggin said hatefully, "If I retreat like this, I won't sleep well for the rest of my life! Send the Han troops and Mongol soldiers up first to exhaust their cannons. Once their fire slackens, our Plain Blue Banner warriors will go in!"

The Qing side first halted their attack. Before long, a group of Eight Banner Han troops and Mongols steeled themselves and charged onto the bridge, their cavalry sparse and scattered—nothing like the density of just moments ago.