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

“What’s that?”

“She wants her furniture back.”

Moments later, their scout came running across the square. “Taiping. At least a hundred, maybe more. They’ll reach the square in a few minutes.”

Guanji thought fast. “Divide the men, Sergeant. They must all be primed and ready to fire. Send ten back up the street behind us, a hundred paces. Form a line across the street. If we have to retreat, they’ll cover us and pick the enemy off as they climb the barricade. The other forty in four lines of ten across. The first line at the barricade. Three more lines to replace them. As soon as we’ve fired the first volley, the front line goes to the back and reloads. And so in turn, until I order the retreat.”

The men were well drilled, and in moments all was ready. Guanji stationed himself at one end of the barricade where he had a good view of the street at the far corner of the square. He told the men to keep their heads down so they’d be invisible to the enemy until he gave the order.

A minute passed. Another. Then he saw three men enter the square. Tough-looking fellows with ragged hair halfway down their backs. Taiping, certainly. They glanced around. One of them caught sight of the barricade, stared, and pointed it out to his fellows. Guanji kept very still. They had not seen him. With luck they’d think it was abandoned. They started forward, clearly intending to inspect it. Guanji silently cursed. He wanted more than three men to shoot. But they’d only gone a few paces when a crowd of Taiping issued from the street behind them. One carried a yellow Taiping banner. Then more, including two drummers, who obligingly made a rat-a-tat. The whole column was piling in behind them now. There must be fifty men, densely crowded, in the line of fire. A perfect target.

“Now,” he told his men. “Fire!”

There was a roar. The first three Taiping all went down. Another half dozen went down behind them. An easy target, but good shooting. He heard the sergeant behind him call out: “Back. Reload. Next line forward.”

The Taiping, taken completely by surprise, had stopped in their tracks. Those who hadn’t seen the barricade would see the smoke, but could have no idea what size of force they were up against.

“See the target?” he called out, and received several nods. “Fire!”

Again, the volley did its work. There were screams of agony coming from across the square now. Thanks to the smoke, he could only see imperfectly. It looked as if, under such rapid and withering fire, the Taiping were trying to retreat from the square. But they couldn’t, because of the column of men still pushing forward from the street behind them.

The third line of his riflemen were in place. He indicated where they should aim through the smoke. “Fire!”

More screams. How many had they brought down so far? Twenty? Maybe more? He had two lines of riflemen left. The line covering them up the street at the rear, and the ten men taking their position at the barricade. He glanced back to see whether the first group had reloaded yet. Almost. “Hold your fire,” he ordered the men at the barricade. Let the smoke clear.

But before he had a clear view across the square again, a group of a dozen Taiping came charging through the smoke towards the barricade. Whatever else they might be, these Taiping warriors were no cowards. They carried guns and long knives. With their hair streaming out, they looked like demons.

“Mark your man and fire at will,” he cried as he drew his sword.

A series of bangs. He saw five, six of the Taiping go down. The rest had reached the barricade. One was scrambling over right in front of him. He thrust, hard, caught the fellow in the neck, saw him fall back, his hand still gripped around the leg of a wooden chair. Two more were almost over, and he could see more figures running across the square.

“Fall back!” he called to his men.

But it was too late for one of them. A couple of Taiping were almost upon him. Guanji threw himself at them. He caught the first with a sword thrust from behind, into the kidney. As he did so, the second swung at him. He felt something in his left arm, nothing much. He slashed and saw a red line open into a gash on the fellow’s neck. The man staggered. Guanji didn’t wait, but grabbed his rifleman by the belt and jerked him up. “Come!” he cried as together they ran unevenly back up the street.

He looked back. Any other men down? It didn’t look like it. But Taiping warriors were scrambling over the barrier. He heard his sergeant shout, “Go to the side,” and understood. Of course. His fifth line of men, ready to fire. He dragged the rifleman with him against the wall of a house. There was a crash as the fusillade was delivered. Screams came from the barricade. He didn’t even look back, but plunged forward. Moments later he passed the line of riflemen. “Go on, sir,” the sergeant cried. “Keep going.”

Fifty yards ahead, the sergeant already had another line of men, ready to fire. Good work, he thought. He’d recommend the sergeant for that.

By the time they all assembled behind the second line, it didn’t seem that the Taiping were going to follow them past the barricade. All the same, better to be safe. “Reload,” he called out. “Every man reload.”

As soon as this was done, Guanji had the sergeant tell the men to fall in. “Have we lost anyone?” he asked.

“Not one, sir.”

“Anybody wounded?”

“Only you, sir.”

“Me?” He’d forgotten feeling something in his arm.

“Often happens in the heat of battle, sir. Man gets wounded, doesn’t feel it.” The sergeant smiled. “With permission, sir.” He drew out one of several lengths of white cotton cloth wrapped around his belt. “I always