Chapter 1291 - Catching Them All in One Net
On January 11, 1633 AD—the second day of the twelfth lunar month in the Gui-Si year—the day after the "population for grain" transaction between the Dengzhou rebels and Qimu Island concluded, the Second Fleet and the Northbound Detachment launched a sudden amphibious assault on the Miaodao Archipelago. Greater and Lesser Changshan Islands fell in a single stroke; more than five hundred rebels were killed or captured, including garrison commander Wang Bingzhong. The maritime gateway to Dengzhou was now in Senate hands. The Second Fleet immediately commenced patrols of the Dengzhou waters, severing all contact between the city and the various islands scattered across Bohai Bay.
The news struck Li Jiucheng and Kong Youde like a thunderbolt. Kong Youde rushed to negotiate in person. Lu Wenyuan presented his terms without preamble: immediate abandonment of Dengzhou and surrender of the city to the Qimu Island forces. In exchange, they would be permitted to take all soldiers, weapons, and supplies aboard ships and depart.
On the beacon tower of Dazhushan Island, the cold wind cut like a blade. Lu Wenyuan wore a thick cotton robe and a padded hat, looking every inch the country bumpkin. Yet compared to Kong Youde—fully armored beneath a great cloak—he appeared far more at ease.
Kong Youde agreed in principle to abandon the city but pressed repeatedly for more time. Winter made navigation treacherous; surely they could remain in Dengzhou until spring. But Manor Lord Lu would not relent. He stated flatly that should they refuse, he would cooperate with the government army to besiege Dengzhou.
"...General naturally understands that the government troops currently shelter in Laizhou because they lack grain, not because they lack soldiers. Even if the General were to sever their supply line again... Since I can provide General Kong with hundreds of thousands of catties of foreign potatoes, surely I can provide the same to the government forces?" Lu Wenyuan spoke with deliberate calm. "Zhu Dadian and Sun Yuanhua are both extremely eager to present the General's head to the Emperor."
"Does not the Manor Lord also wish to curry favor with Lords Zhu and Sun using Commander Li's head and mine?" Kong Youde fixed him with bloodshot eyes.
"If I wanted the General's head, why would I have waited until now?" Lu Wenyuan smiled and drew a handkerchief from his sleeve, waving it in the air.
The 130mm main guns of the four 901-class gunboats anchored offshore roared in unison. Shells screamed across the gray expanse of sea and slammed into Dengzhou City. Four massive explosions rocked the walls, sending black smoke billowing skyward as the rumble echoed across the water.
Kong Youde's face went ashen. This was the first time he had witnessed the 901's true power with his own eyes.
"The General no longer doubts my word, I trust?" Lu Wenyuan's smile widened.
A long silence stretched between them. Finally, Kong Youde asked the question that had haunted him from the beginning: "Who are you? What exactly do you want?"
Li Jiucheng and the others finally capitulated, agreeing to surrender the city that very day. The rebels controlled only enough ships to transport fewer than 20,000 people. However, Manor Lord Lu generously offered to lend them several vessels for the remaining population. The destination was set as Guanglu Island.
Guanglu Island was Chen Youshi's station. After Chen Youshi led his forces to join the Dengzhou rebels, the island had remained under the control of his subordinates. Borrowing this location would allow them to weather the winter—thanks to the population-for-grain exchange, they had sufficient potatoes to last. Guanglu Island lay close to Lushun. Li Jiucheng and Kong Youde discussed the possibility of using this base, while their winter provisions held, to launch an assault on Lushun, driving away or killing Dongjiang Commander-in-Chief Huang Long, reclaiming the old Dongjiang territory, and reunifying the scattered Dongjiang units. This would give them a base from which to negotiate—or fight—with either the Imperial Court or the Manchus.
On the tenth day of the twelfth lunar month, the rebel fleet sailed out of the Dengzhou Water City. The Northbound Detachment immediately entered the city. Beating gongs and drums, they posted and loudly read aloud the proclamation of reassurance issued in Sun Yuanhua's name. Thousands of commoners and soldiers who had been left behind—those who failed to board the ships or had hidden themselves rather than follow the rebels—emerged from their places of concealment to surrender. Zhu Mingxia ordered them all taken to Zhaoyuan for settlement and screening.
The remaining materials in the city were systematically collected. Cannons and military equipment the rebels had been unable to load were gathered; gunpowder was discarded. Grain, fodder, gold, and silver needed no mention.
The sea stretched endless and gray beneath a pale winter sky. More than a hundred ships carrying rebel soldiers proceeded in a long column, bow to stern, stretching several li. Kong Youde, Li Jiucheng, Geng Zhongming, and the other principal commanders had been distributed across separate vessels, each commanding a portion of the fleet.
Sailing in winter, though carrying the danger of blundering into floating ice, meant calmer seas and smoother passage. But the wind off the water was exceptionally cruel, scouring exposed skin like a knife.
Kong Youde gazed back at Dengzhou City receding in the distance and felt only a vast emptiness within. Since raising the banner at Wuqiao more than a year ago, he had known victory and defeat, living what might be called the "most satisfying" life he had ever experienced. Yet this life had always carried an undertone of blankness—a future shrouded in mist, direction utterly lost.
Of all the grand strategies he and Li Jiucheng had devised at the beginning, nothing remained but thousands of li of scorched earth and hundreds of thousands of corpses. Where the road ahead would lead for himself and his nearly 20,000 followers, he could not see.
Toward the Great Ming, he felt nothing. Though his titles and status had come from the Ming, these were things he, his father, his brothers, and his fellow villagers had earned with knives and spears from piles of corpses while enduring hunger. Toward the Manchus, there was only bitter enmity.
Yet every effort by him and Li Jiucheng and the other Dongjiang commanders to carve out a territory of their own had ended in complete failure. Now they had drawn a circle and returned to the starting point—the coastal islands of Liaodong to which Commander Mao had led them in flight all those years ago.
These islands were barren in the extreme. Grain and pay had no source of replenishment. What should be done? Request amnesty from the Great Ming? Or secretly negotiate with the Manchus?
He was deep in thought when a messenger rushed in:
"Vice Marshal! A large number of ships on the sea! They're closing on us!"
Kong Youde strode onto the deck and looked. On the horizon, four plumes of black smoke rose in straight columns toward the sky. He froze. Those are Manor Lord Lu's ships.
Watching the vessels approach across the gray water, he understood everything in an instant. Manor Lord Lu had deceived them.
No—"deceived" was not quite accurate. More precisely, Manor Lord Lu had constructed a situation so perfectly staged that they had no choice but to walk precisely this path. Perhaps they had never truly had a choice at all.
Kong Youde's hands gripped the rail until his knuckles went white, his fingertips nearly gouging the wood.
The Second Fleet had long been lying in wait near the Changshan Archipelago. The moment the rebels put to sea, with the wind in their favor, the entire fleet deployed and began encirclement operations from both flanks simultaneously.
Chen Youshi's subordinates on Guanglu Island, who had received advance notice, waited in vain for the rebel fleet from Dengzhou. It never arrived. The rebel fleet was hostage to the Second Fleet. After a single ship attempting to escape was burned down with incendiary rockets, the entire fleet sailed for Jeju Island under "escort" of the Second Fleet.
At Chaotianpu Wharf, the garrison had fully mobilized upon receiving word that the prisoners were approaching. These were 20,000 soldiers, all still armed. Given the limited number of regular troops on Jeju Island, effectively disarming such a force would be challenging.
Nearly all available armed forces had been concentrated near the wharf specially built for landing prisoners: two infantry companies of the Northbound Detachment Jeju Island Attachment; two companies of the Security Army Sword Drawing Unit; two companies of the Security Army White Horse Unit. In addition, three thousand militia drawn from Shandong immigrants stood ready—men who bore blood feuds against the rebels. The Navy had contributed several sailor companies and a machine gun squad for support.
Barbed wire fencing formed corridors leading from the wharf, each passage wide enough for only a single person. Around these corridors, bayonets and spears bristled like a forest of steel. Cannon muzzles gleamed. Marksmen armed with sniper rifles occupied the watchtowers surrounding the perimeter. Everything was silent, waiting for the first rebel transport to enter the harbor.
Feng Zongze had brought his own team to personally command the operation at Chaotianpu. He had brought not only infantry and Security Army units, but also artillery and the Teaching Cavalry Squad. The cannons were all loaded with double canister shot. If the infantry proved unable to control the situation, he was prepared to follow Napoleon's old method—bombard the rioters directly with cannons, then send the Teaching Cavalry Squad charging through to finish the job. Of course, this possibility was extremely remote. Before his artillery could "speak," the machine guns would likely be sufficient to suppress any resistance.
"Chief, the fleet is here." Park Chang-fan spoke respectfully.
"I see it." Feng Zongze raised his telescope and observed for a time. "Order all units to action stations."
The rebel fleet appeared on the horizon, vessel after vessel, approaching the coast under "escort" of the Second Fleet. The gunners on patrol boats and coastal batteries watched these battered ships with wary vigilance. The decks were crowded with soldiers wearing filthy, tattered cotton armor and crude iron plate, their eyes vacant, their faces hollow.
The first wave of ships docked at the pier. Loudspeakers mounted on the wharf began broadcasting a looped message in the voice of a former Dongjiang soldier:
"...Soldiers of Dongjiang and Shandong! You have arrived at Jeju Prefecture of the Great Song. So long as you obey commands and act according to our instructions, the Great Song guarantees your personal safety. Disembark one by one, form lines, and proceed forward. Deposit your weapons and remove your armor at the designated locations. Do not make any mistakes..."
The soldiers aboard hesitated briefly, then began disembarking. In teams, they walked into the barbed wire corridors. Under direction from the loudspeakers, they laid down their weapons, stripped off their armor, and entered the purification camp to await processing. Anyone who appeared to be an officer was separated on the spot.
The entire disarmament operation proceeded in quiet efficiency. Occasionally, noise erupted somewhere, followed immediately by a single gunshot restoring silence. Any such behavior was ended by a bullet from the watchtowers.
Those killed were dragged with hooked poles to the open ground beneath the barbed wire, serving as silent warnings. After disarmament, each person received a vegetable-and-potato pancake and a cup of hot herb tea said to have a calming effect. The pancake was made by steaming a mixture of cabbage and mashed potato. For soldiers who were starving and rarely enjoyed a proper meal, it was nothing less than a delicacy. As for the herbal tea with its "calming effect"—it was simply to make them drowsy and docile.