China by Edward Rutherfurd (historical books to read TXT) 📕

tightened its circle around the Taiping’s Heavenly Kingdom, was a chance to join the army outside Nanjing and to distinguish himself. He made applications, but had so far been refused.

“No job is more important than keeping the supplies coming through Zhapu to Hangzhou,” he was told. And he knew this was true.

When the terse Mongolian brigade general had arrived to take charge, Guanji had hoped that it might be a prelude to action. He answered directly to Genghis, so the opportunity was excellent, if only he could impress him.

If he could just encounter a moment of truth.

—

The orders arrived without warning. Guanji was talking to old bannerman friends in the Zhapu garrison one morning when the brigade general suddenly appeared and beckoned him.

“The Taiping rebels have broken out of Nanjing. They’re headed for Hangzhou. Seven thousand men under General Li. We’re to reinforce the garrison defending the place. I want four hundred riflemen, fully equipped, ready to march in two hours.”

“At once, sir.” Guanji hesitated, just a moment. Did he dare ask?

“You’re coming, too.”

—

They followed the line of the canal leading from Zhapu to the northern edge of Hangzhou. The men with their smart uniforms and pigtails looked sharp and eager. They were well drilled.

Guanji rode beside the Mongolian. “I’d have thought,” he ventured, “that the Taiping might come in larger numbers.”

“Seven thousand good troops could take Hangzhou,” Genghis grunted.

“They say that their General Li wears spectacles.”

“Don’t underestimate Li. He knows his business.”

Guanji didn’t interrupt the brigade general’s thoughts after that, until they made their bivouac for the first night of the eighty-mile march.

—

It was on the fourth evening that they came to the great city of Hangzhou. An officer with half a dozen mounted men met them upon the road and led them to the first of the two gates on the northern wall of the city, which opened to receive them and immediately closed again once they were in. To their right they saw the inside wall of the garrison quarter. Guanji smiled.

Genghis noticed. “Why smile?”

“My old school, sir.”

The Mongolian said nothing.

Inside the garrison, to Guanji’s pleasure, they were allocated quarters in the school hall. The men were fed and soon asleep. Guanji also was ready to turn in. But Genghis was not. “Take me up on the city wall,” he demanded.

While the garrison enclave was separated from the rest of the city on its northern, southern, and eastern sides by a strong, high curtain wall, with small gates giving access to the city streets, its western border was the city wall itself. And this section of wall contained a single stout gateway that gave onto a broad stretch of open ground, dotted with trees, beyond which lay the placid waters of the great West Lake. The gateway contained a staircase up onto the ramparts.

They mounted together in the darkness and looked over the battlements.

The entire space from the gate to the lakeshore had been occupied. A hundred campfires were burning there. One could even see shadowy figures by the glow of the fires.

“Taiping,” said the Mongolian. “A detachment of ’em, anyway.”

“It looks as if they mean to assault this gate and take the garrison.”

“They may try,” agreed Genghis. “They’ll have to kill you and me first,” he added.

—

Guanji awoke at dawn to the sound of gunfire. A lot of guns—though it seemed to be coming from down at the southern end of the city. He’d hardly leaped up before the brigade general appeared.

“It’s begun. There’s a council of war. Assemble the men and wait till I return.”

An hour passed. When the brigade general finally got back, he was looking grim. He told Guanji to stand his men down and then to follow him. A few minutes later they were back on the wall where they’d been the night before.

The Taiping, whose fires they had seen in the darkness, were drawn up in formation two hundred yards away. There were about a thousand of them. With their long hair down to their shoulders, swords and guns at the ready, they looked fearsome. Their red-bordered yellow war banners were streaming in the wind.

Genghis looked at them impassively. He put a little snuff on the back of his hand and sniffed. “The commanders here are fools,” he remarked. He didn’t say why. Then he turned to study the view to his left.

Below the garrison quarter there was a broad thoroughfare leading to the next western gate. On the other side of the thoroughfare was the big yamen of the city prefect, a collection of buildings and courts surrounded by a brick-and-plaster barrier, built for privacy rather than defense, and with a parade ground in front of it. Immediately after the prefect’s yamen lay a maze of streets, where merchants’ mansions, craftsmen’s workshops, temple precincts, and great labyrinths of poor folks’ hovels clustered and bustled, and crumbled all together in the typical tightly pressed chaos of an ancient Chinese city. This continued about a mile until the southern rampart.

“The Taiping have breached the wall in the southwest corner.” He pointed. Guanji could see troops and Taiping banners on the West Lake shoreline at the end of the city wall. “They’ve been pouring in. Of course, the local militia was there to oppose them. What do you suppose happened?”

“Hard fighting I should think, sir.”

“Most of the militiamen started running away.” The brigade general nodded thoughtfully. “Maybe they panicked. Maybe the Taiping had already infiltrated them. Probably both. Care to guess the next move?”

“I suppose the Taiping are working their way towards us.”

“The townspeople are furious. They’ve filled the streets. Told the militia if they don’t fight, they’ll string ’em up. And they’ve started attacking the Taiping themselves, with their bare hands if necessary. Quite a lot of Manchu in this city.”

“The Manchu will fight,” said Guanji proudly.

“Hmm. Seems the women are fiercest. They’ve already hanged a dozen militiamen, and they’re hacking at the Taiping with chopping knives.” He nodded with amused satisfaction, then turned to Guanji. “Why are