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

Then, before the dawn, they dismantled the barricade and re-erected it so that it ran from the yamen across the street to the garrison wall, sealing off the city gate. As though to proclaim their dominance, they ran their Taiping flags and banners up all around the walls of the areas they occupied, including the prefect’s yamen and the adjoining western gate, as if to say: “All this is our precinct, our fortress.” This left only the garrison and the northernmost part of the city in imperial hands.

Their plan of action became clear, even before the dawn. It was signaled by the sound of picks and shovels striking the ground. Guanji and the brigade general looked down from the garrison wall. The rebels had erected a protective roof to cover them while they worked, but there could be no doubt about what they were doing. “They’re tunneling under the garrison wall, sir,” said Guanji. “What’ll they do then?”

“Fill it with gunpowder and blow it up, most likely. That’ll make a breach they can get through.”

“What can we do?”

“Try a countermine. Dig underneath them and collapse the floor of their tunnel. That’s the usual procedure. Of course, they may dig a counter to our countermine, and so on.” Genghis nodded. “Tedious business.”

By the next day, the Taiping were digging four mines, and it was hard to be sure where they were all going. And there was still the big Taiping force outside the garrison’s western gate to consider. Would the Taiping launch two attacks at the same time, one from the south and the other from outside the western gate? Guanji supposed so.

There was talk that day of a big Manchu assault on the yamen, but there were so many well-armed Taiping in there that the Hangzhou command was nervous of losing too many men. “Let’s wait for the reinforcements from Nanjing,” they agreed.

So the Taiping continued their preparations; and the emperor’s men waited for help.

—

Help came. The day of the new moon. A huge contingent from the emperor’s Southern Grand Battalion had broken off its siege of the Heavenly Kingdom to relieve Hangzhou. Thousands of troops were massed outside the city’s northern gates.

Guanji was expecting them to enter at once, but the brigade general explained, “Not enough room in the city at the moment. They’ll camp outside tonight.” It seemed to make sense. Only later, when they were out of earshot of anyone else, did his commander tell him in a low voice: “They may be full of Taiping spies. We want to keep them out there until the moment we fight.”

“Can I trust anyone, sir?” Guanji asked sadly.

“No. Except me. D’you know why?”

“You’re my commander.”

“Because I’m Mongolian. We’re the only trustworthy people.” It seemed to amuse him, because he laughed. “Every Mongolian will tell you that.”

—

Guanji didn’t go up on the wall that night. First thing in the morning, the brigade general went to a war council. Guanji made sure that all the Zhapu riflemen were ready for action and awaited his chief’s return eagerly. But hours passed and there was no sign of him.

It was late morning when the sergeant brought the woman to him. She’d come to a small side gate of the garrison, asking to speak to an officer. One of the sentries knew her as a trustworthy Manchu and had summoned the sergeant.

She was a tough, stout woman, about forty, he guessed. Her story was simple. The rebels had killed her husband a week ago. She hated them. The evening before, a lot of the Taiping in the southern part of the town had started moving towards the garrison. Word was, they were preparing a big assault. They were going to smash their way into the garrison soon. Very soon. So she’d made her way cautiously from the southern part of the town and come to warn them.

It made sense. Seeing the emperor’s reinforcements arrive, the Taiping were clearly going to throw everything they had at the garrison, to take it quickly. Then let the Manchu break in if they could.

Guanji didn’t hesitate. Sending a man to tell the brigade general, he immediately split his riflemen into two parties: a hundred and fifty in formation, to deliver volley after volley at any Taiping force that broke in through the garrison’s west gate; the other two hundred and fifty to be ready to repel whatever attack might come through a breach in the wall from the southern side.

He didn’t have to wait long until Genghis appeared. The Mongolian approved his actions, listened carefully to the Manchu woman, and told Guanji to accompany him up onto the wall.

“Will this affect the battle plan, sir?” Guanji asked.

“There is no battle plan,” the Mongolian replied drily. “The war council still can’t make up their minds.”

They gazed out at the Taiping troops opposite the west gate. The rebels had dug a trench and thrown up a rampart that stretched from the city wall to the lake. If the men of the Southern Grand Battalion came around the city to attack them, they obviously meant to put up a strong defense.

The Mongolian turned to look down the length of the city wall. There seemed to be a Taiping flag flying every few yards. Guanji stared at the prefect’s yamen. The roofs of the buildings and the numerous Taiping banners obstructed much of the view, but it was evident that the rebels were still busily undermining the garrison wall. He could see men adding to the piles of excavated earth.

“They were mining last night as well,” Guanji volunteered. “I stood at the foot of the wall, and I could hear them digging underground. They were still at it when I turned in—and that was after midnight.”

“Did you go up on top of the wall?”

“Not last night, sir. I didn’t think I’d see much, as there was no moon.”

“No moon.” The Mongolian nodded thoughtfully. “Of course. It’s been waning for days.” He was silent for a moment. And then suddenly he