Huangming

Chapter 497 Taking Over the Ship and Fighting the Red Barbarians

On the raging sea, dozens of Ming Dynasty grass boats, like a school of nimble fish, weaved between the hulls of Dutch galleons.

The boatmen walked barefoot on the slippery deck, their oars splashing up white spray. Each small boat carried fifteen or sixteen Ming soldiers with swords at their sides, looking from a distance like leeches clinging to the hull of a large Dutch ship.

This sudden attack did indeed distract Reyjoz aboard the flagship Gunningen.

He gripped the bronze telescope on the ship's side, his brow furrowed as he watched the small boats circling beneath the ship. Before a mocking smile could even form on his lips, he caught a glimpse of unusual activity on the southern horizon out of the corner of his eye.

"wrong!"

Reyjoz abruptly lowered his binoculars, slammed his rough hands heavily on the ship's side, and roared sharply in Dutch.

"Ignore those little bugs! They can't climb onto the deck of a galleon! All ships, listen up! Hard to port, change course! We must not let the Ming ships get close!"

He saw it clearly.

The two Ming dynasty Fujian ships were slowly adjusting their bows with the help of the sea breeze. Although the cannons on their bows were not yet aimed at them, once the heavy hulls got close, a gunfight would be inevitable.

The Dutch had an advantage in long-range artillery, but if the Ming army got close, the power of their matchlock muskets would be greatly reduced.

The messenger on the flagship immediately raised the red and yellow signal flags, and the flag signals were quickly transmitted across the smoke-filled sea.

Sixteen Dutch ships, like awakened behemoths, slowly turned, their oak hulls cutting through the waves and creating dark streaks in the water.

The cannons, which were originally aimed at the Fengguiwei Battery, gradually turned towards the approaching Ming army ships.

"Damn red-haired barbarians!"

Standing on the deck of the Fujian ship, Deng Shizhong watched as the Dutch warship skillfully changed course, and in anger, he slammed his fist on the wooden railing.

He originally intended to use the small boat to hold back the Fujian ship and allow it to get closer, but he did not expect Rejoz to react so quickly and see through his tactics at a glance.

But he quickly suppressed his anger.

His gaze swept over the small boats that were still stubbornly clinging to each other, and a cold smile suddenly appeared on his lips.

Do you think I only have the tactic of linking large ships together?

Can't a small boat board your warship?

now.

The three grass boats closest to the flagship had already cast their iron hooks.

The hooks, with sharp barbs at the ends, snapped firmly onto the edge of the galleon's deck with a "click," and no matter how hard the Dutch soldiers hacked at them with their scimitars, only tiny sparks flew from the iron chains, leaving not even a scratch.

"Quick! Cut those iron hooks!"

The Dutch officer was sweating profusely and kicked over the trembling recruit next to him. But the clanging sound of the knife hitting the iron chain only made more Ming soldiers see an opportunity.

"Kill! Climb up!"

The Ming soldiers on the straw boat roared, gripping the swaying iron chains with both hands and pushing against the hull with their feet to climb upwards.

Some people had only climbed halfway up the deck when they were hit by the flintlock guns on the deck, and their bodies fell into the sea like kites with broken strings.

But the people behind them showed no fear; some even held up round iron shields to protect their heads, charging forward despite the hail of bullets.

Seeing this, Reyoz's face instantly turned ashen.

To prevent the Ming soldiers from climbing, he had to move half of the soldiers from the gun emplacements and have them stand guard on the ship's side with scimitars.

However, this immediately slowed down the rate of fire of the artillery. The 18-pound cannon, which could originally fire once per minute, now had to wait two or three minutes to fire a single shot.

Deng Shizhong accurately captured this subtle change.

He lay prone at the lookout point on the superstructure, his eyes fixed on the sparse smoke from the Gunningen. Suddenly, he sat bolt upright, drew his sword from his waist, pointed it towards the flagship, and his voice boomed:
"Now! Full speed ahead! Throw the grappling hooks! Lay down the planks!"

The sailors on the Fujian ship were already poised to go. Upon hearing the order, they immediately braved the cannon fire and approached the Gunningen.

Upon approaching the Gunningen, they hurled out the thick hemp rope grappling hook that they had prepared beforehand.

A dozen barbed iron hooks drew arcs in the air, firmly gripping the railings and deck gaps of the galleon.

Immediately afterwards, more soldiers rushed forward carrying heavy planks and placed them across the swaying gap between the two boats.

As soon as the wooden planks were placed firmly, the Ming soldiers, holding iron shields, surged forward like a tide.

"kill!"

The first Ming soldier to charge forward used his shield in his left hand to block the oncoming arquebus bullets, while his right hand swung down with his long sword, cutting the Dutch soldier's scimitar in two.

The soldiers behind them followed closely, their iron shields forming a continuous line, effectively blocking the Dutch musket fire.

These soldiers of the Tianjin Navy were all elites who had fought alongside Mao Wenlong in Liaodong and Korea, and their close-combat skills were ingrained in their very bones.

Some used knives to slash, some used spears to stab, and some even grabbed Dutch soldiers and threw them into the sea. The deck was quickly covered with blood, mixed with seawater, making it slippery and difficult to stand.

Seeing this, Reyjoz immediately drew his sword and charged forward with a roar:
"Stop them! Anyone who retreats will be killed!"

But as soon as he cut down a Ming soldier, he was spotted by two Ming soldiers with shields raised.

One man held his sword with a shield, while another kicked him in the knee.

Reyjoz lost his balance and fell to his knees on the deck with a thud. Before he could get up, the cold back of a blade was already against his neck.

"Don't move!"

The roars of the Ming soldiers exploded in his ears. When the Dutch soldiers around him saw that their commander had been captured, they lost the courage to resist. Some threw down their weapons and knelt down to surrender, while others tried to jump into the sea to escape, but were shot down by the Ming soldiers' arrows on the side of the ship.

Deng Shizhong stepped over the blood-soaked ground and walked step by step to Reyjoz, looking down at the Dutch fleet commander whose face was full of resentment, and sneered:
"Red-haired barbarian, weren't you so good at fighting? What, now you know how powerful the soldiers of my Great Ming Dynasty are?"

Reyjoz was being held by two Ming soldiers, the knife still at his neck. He looked at the densely packed Ming soldiers around him, and then at the other Dutch ships on the sea that were gradually being controlled by the Ming army. Finally, he lowered his head helplessly.

He never understood why his ships, which were more sturdy and his cannons more powerful, could be defeated by the "poorly equipped" Ming army.

Only Deng Shizhong knew that this victory was not due to superior ships and cannons, but to the fighting spirit of the Ming soldiers.

It was those elite Ming soldiers who climbed the mountain under a hail of bullets, those brave warriors who would rather die than retreat, who won this seemingly impossible naval battle.

Deng Shizhong grabbed Reyjoz by the collar and pulled him off the deck. The back of the knife against Reyjoz's neck tightened its grip, the cold iron blade against his skin making Reyjoz shiver involuntarily.

"Make your men surrender now!"

His voice was hoarse, as if chilled to the bone, as if he had just emerged from a bloody battle. His gaze was fixed on Reyjoz's eyes, while his peripheral vision warily swept towards the sea.

The Dutch ships in the distance were slowly closing in, their cannons already faintly aimed at the flagship. If they dragged this out any longer, the victory they had just secured would slip away.

Reyjoz frowned, his face filled with confusion and resentment.

He could see Deng Shizhong's anger and the tense faces of the Ming soldiers around him, but he couldn't understand the official language of the Ming Dynasty.

The sea breeze, carrying the stench of blood, blew by. He opened his mouth, then swallowed hard, and mumbled a question in Dutch:
"What are you saying? I don't understand your language!"

"Bird language!"

Deng Shizhong cursed fiercely, and tightened his grip, making it so tight that Reyjoz could barely breathe.

The situation on the sea was becoming increasingly tense. The two closest Dutch armed merchant ships had changed course, and the gun ports on both sides of the ships opened with a creaking sound, their dark muzzles pointing at the flagship, as if they were about to fire at any moment.

He turned and scanned the people on deck, his roar booming through the waves: "Who understands this red-haired barbarian's bird language? Step forward!"

"General... I have some knowledge of this."

A timid voice came from behind the crowd, and Zheng Zhilong slowly walked out.

His brocade robe was splattered with blood, and his lips were pale; clearly, the recent battle had left him shaken.

He kept his head down, not daring to look Deng Shizhong in the eye, but his gaze unconsciously swept across the sea.

This is the Dutch East India Company's fleet!

Last year when he met with Li Dan in Luzon, even the Spanish had to avoid him. How come he was defeated by the Ming navy in just one year?

At this moment, he thought of his adoptive father Li Dan's stronghold in Taiwan and the merchant ships that traveled between Taiwan and Japan.

If the Ming Dynasty navy can even defeat the Dutch, then wouldn't my adoptive father's wooden ships be easily defeated?
Cold sweat trickled down his back, and he gripped the boat plank even tighter, with only one thought in his mind:
We must survive, and we must stay away from this turmoil.

"You understand?"

Deng Shizhong's eyes lit up. He released Rejoz's collar, walked a few steps to Zheng Zhilong, and grabbed his arm.

"Quickly! Tell him to order all the Dutch ships to lay down their arms and surrender!"

Zheng Zhilong's arm ached from being gripped, but he dared not resist. He nodded quickly, turned to Reyjoz, and said in fairly fluent Dutch:
"Commander, the Ming general requests that you order the other ships to cease their attack and surrender."

Reyoz paused for a moment, then gave a wry smile and shook his head:
“I am already a prisoner, they won’t listen to me.”

He looked up at the sea, his eyes filled with complex emotions.

"Our ships do not belong to me personally, but to the East India Company."

Once the commander is captured, junior officers automatically assume command; they will continue to carry out the mission and will not accept orders from a prisoner.

Zheng Zhilong quickly translated what he said to Deng Shizhong, and even added a sentence:
"General, these ships were invested in by Dutch nobles. Each captain has autonomy. Reyoz is only the nominal commander. If it's profitable, they'll listen to him."

They definitely wouldn't surrender.

After all, if the ship sinks, they'll lose all their capital.

After hearing this, Deng Shizhong kicked the iron hook on the deck hard and cursed:

"Damn it! A bunch of money-grubbing bastards!"

He looked up at the sea; the two Dutch ships were now much closer, and he could even see soldiers loading cannons at the muzzles. The smell of gunpowder drifted over on the sea breeze. Having just captured the flagship, the Ming army had already lost over a dozen small boats, three large ships, and nearly a hundred soldiers. If they continued to fight, they feared they would suffer a loss.

"Can't wait any longer!"

Deng Shizhong made a quick decision and turned to ask the others.

"Who knows how to sail this barbarian ship? Let's tow this flagship back to Longmen Port, and we'll deal with the rest later!"

"General! I know!"

Zheng Zhilong immediately took two steps forward, afraid that if he was even a step too slow, he would be mistaken for an accomplice of the Dutch.

He pointed to a few trembling Dutchmen in the corner of the deck, his voice trembling slightly:
"Those are the helmsman and navigator; they're in charge of the ship's course and sails!"

Deng Shizhong looked in the direction he pointed and saw several Dutchmen in blue uniforms huddled by the ship's side, holding nautical charts in their arms.

He immediately waved his hand, and two Ming soldiers rushed over, pointing their swords at their backs:
"Get up! Sail the ship to Longmen Harbor! If you dare to try anything funny, we'll throw you into the sea to feed the fish!"

The Dutchman turned pale with fright, nodded hastily, and shakily got up, being led by the Ming soldiers to the ship's wheel.

Zheng Zhilong followed them, occasionally shouting in Dutch to keep an eye on their movements for the Ming army.

He didn't want to die at sea; only by safely sailing the ship to Longmen Port would he have a chance to survive.

As the helmsman turned the rudder, the flagship Gunningen slowly changed course, its sails billowing in the sea breeze as it headed toward Longmen Port.

The Dutch ships on the sea, seeing their flagship sail away, followed but dared not open fire easily.

They were terrified of accidentally harming their own people.

Standing on the deck, Deng Shizhong watched the Dutch ship gradually disappear into the distance. He finally breathed a sigh of relief, wiped the blood off his face, and had only one thought in his mind.

These barbarian ships are actually more stable than Fujian ships. I'll have to have the craftsmen learn from them!

Zheng Zhilong followed behind the helmsman, watching the outline of Longmen Port become clearer and clearer in the distance, but his heart was filled with increasing panic.

He didn't know what awaited him: would he be treated as a pirate by the Ming army, or would he be able to survive by relying on his ability to speak Dutch?

He glanced furtively at Deng Shizhong standing on the deck, and then thought of Li Dan, who was far away in Taiwan. He felt that the storms on the sea were more dangerous than any he had ever encountered before.

Half an hour passed.

Deng Shizhong's fleet finally arrived at Longmen Port.

As soon as they docked, soldiers swarmed onto the shore.

Some carried planks to repair the damaged hull, some carried stretchers to take the wounded brothers to the medical tent, and others squatted on the shore, staring blankly at the broken sails and bloodstains floating on the sea, their faces full of shock.

"General, the Dutch ships haven't followed us in!"

The soldier on lookout duty slid down from the mast, ran to Deng Shizhong, and reported breathlessly.

"They've anchored at Fengguiwei; it looks like they're going to land!"

Deng Shizhong stood on the deck of the flagship, gazing at the faint outlines of Dutch ships on the distant horizon, his brows furrowed in worry.

"As expected. They came from Luzon and have been on the road for almost two months. The fresh water and dry food on the ship won't last long. Fengguiwei is one of the few safe harbors in Penghu, so they will definitely need to resupply there."

As they were talking, several guards quickly walked over carrying a list of casualties.

"General, the casualty count is complete."

The head guard spoke in a low voice, not daring to look Deng Shizhong in the eye.

"A total of 1,213 brothers were lost in this battle, more than 800 of whom drowned after their ships, Haicang and Cangshan, were sunk."

Seven Haicang boats sank, nine Cangshan boats sank, and twelve Caopie boats were lost..."

Deng Shizhong took the roster, his face grim.

He was familiar with most of those names.

There were his old brothers who came with him from Tianjin, young soldiers who had just joined the army, and several helmsmen he had personally selected. Now, all that remains is this cold piece of paper.

He took a deep breath, clutching the roster in his hand. The number "one thousand two hundred and thirteen" weighed heavily on his heart.

"Was the Fujian ship undamaged?"

"Reporting to the general, the two Fujian ships only have a few holes punched in their hulls, but they can still be used after some repairs."

"fine……"

Deng Shizhong breathed a sigh of relief, but then his face darkened again.

"Your Majesty once said that the naval strength of the Red-haired Barbarians far surpassed that of the Japanese pirates, and I did not believe it. Now I have seen it for myself."

Their cannons can fire two miles, and their oak hulls are as hard as iron; our breech-loading cannons barely scratch them.

He turned to look at Reyjoz, who was being led off the ship, and the more than two hundred Dutch prisoners, his eyes becoming more serious.

"Fortunately, it wasn't a wasted effort. We captured their commander and seized a Western barbarian warship. We'll have the craftsmen dismantle it and study it to see if we can replicate such a ship."

"General, what should we do next?"

The adjutant standing nearby couldn't help but ask, "If the Dutch land at Fengguiwei and manage to establish a foothold, it could cause a lot of trouble."

"First, send someone to Taiwan to deliver a message to General Mao, urging him to return to Taiwan as soon as possible."

Deng Shizhong said firmly:

"With just the few men we have, a direct confrontation is definitely not going to work."

The Red Barbarians' cannons were too powerful, and the close-quarters combat resulted in heavy losses.

We'll figure out how to deal with them when General Mao comes back.

At worst, we outnumber them; we can overwhelm them with sheer numbers!

The personal guards obeyed the order and left, while Deng Shizhong stayed in Longmen Port to reorganize the military equipment.

They were so busy repairing warships, counting ammunition, and comforting wounded soldiers that they barely had time to rest.

Winter days are short, and dusk arrives in the blink of an eye. One by one, torches are lit along the dock, turning the sea surface red, much like the bloodstains from the naval battle during the day.

soon.

Three days passed in a blink of an eye.

The messenger sent to Taiwan had not yet returned, but bad news came from Fengguiwei.

The scout, covered in mud, stumbled and crawled into Deng Shizhong's tent, his voice trembling:

"General! Something's wrong! The Red-haired Barbarians aren't here to resupply; they're going to build a city at Fengguiwei!"

Deng Shizhong suddenly stood up from his chair and grabbed the scout's arm:

"Explain yourself! What kind of city were they building?"

"It's...it's a fortress!"

The scout swallowed hard and began to describe the scene rapidly.

“The little one hid behind the distant reef and watched. The red-haired barbarians tied up the captured fishermen and made them work. They cut down the nearby pine trees for timber and also carried bricks and stones off the ships.”

The fortress was over fifty paces long, its walls higher than our watchtowers, and it had protruding bastions at each of its four corners, each mounted with cannons—I roughly counted at least twenty!

He paused and added:
"There are also barracks and a three-story building inside the fortress, which looks like it's for command purposes."

Dry trenches were dug around the perimeter, and sharpened logs were stuck into the trenches.

This place is surrounded by the sea on three sides and only has land on one side. If we attack from the land, we will be bombarded by the bastion.

"Attack from the sea! Their ships are still guarding the area; they can't get close at all!"

"Damn it! These red-haired barbarians want to settle down in Penghu!"

Deng Shizhong slammed his hand on the table, knocking over the teacups and spilling tea all over the floor.

"They kidnapped my people, occupied my coastal areas, and even dared to build fortresses and establish themselves here. Do they really think my Ming Dynasty has no one left?"

The generals inside the tent fell silent, some with worry on their faces.
"General, Commander Mao hasn't returned yet. We only have a little over seven thousand men left, and we've lost quite a few warships. If we launch a direct attack..."

"We must attack, even if it means a hard attack!"

Deng Shizhong interrupted him.

"If we wait any longer, the fortress of the red-haired barbarians will be completed, and then it will be even more difficult to attack!"

This is the maritime territory of the Ming Dynasty, and we must never allow foreign barbarians to occupy it!
The order was given: in three days, the waterway and land routes would proceed simultaneously.

The remaining naval ships will hold them off from the sea, while the infantry will attack from land. Even if we lose half our men, we must drive these red-haired barbarians out!

Seeing his resolute attitude, the generals clasped their hands and accepted the order:
"I will obey your orders!"

The sea breeze outside the tent grew stronger, making the tent curtains rustle loudly.

Deng Shizhong walked to the edge of the tent, lifted the curtain and looked towards the direction of Fengguiwei. The afterglow of the setting sun shone on the sea, but it could not penetrate the heaviness in his eyes.

This battle was bound to be fierce, but he knew all too well that behind him lay the territory of the Ming Dynasty, and in front of him were invading foreign barbarians; he had no way out.

(End of this chapter)