Total War: Restoration of the Ming Dynasty in Luzon

Chapter 68 Chinese Uprising

Like a flood bursting its banks, the routed soldiers poured into Batavia's city along the narrow streets. They abandoned their armor and weapons, their faces filled with fear and despair, and relayed the news of the port's fall and the collapse of the fortresses, along with their sense of defeat, to the garrison organizing the city's defenses.

The Dutch troops, hastily transferred from the eastern city walls to support the port, had barely established a defensive line at the intersections of several main streets leading to the port when they were swept away by the surging tide of retreat.

The soldiers listened in astonishment to the incoherent cries of the fleeing troops:

"The port is finished! The coastal defense batteries have all been occupied by the Chinese!"

"Our fleet is completely wiped out! They're firing our cannons at us!"

"We can't stop them... we simply can't stop them! There are just too many of them."

Panic, like an invisible rope, instantly tightened around the throats of every Dutch soldier who tried to hold their ground.

However, the Dutch officers quickly rallied the troops, loudly ordering the fleeing soldiers to regroup and reorganize the defensive line. They shouted:

"The Chinese are cruel and tyrannical. After conquering Manila, they massacred the Europeans inside. We must not retreat! Retreat means certain death!"

A captain climbed onto an overturned wagon, shouting hoarsely in an attempt to drown out the clamor of the fleeing soldiers: "Think of your families! Think of Batavia! This is our home! Our home that we've built for hundreds of years! These barbaric Chinese, if we let them in, they'll burn your houses, steal your property, and enslave your wives and daughters!"

The final, malicious incitement pierced the hearts of many soldiers like a poisonous thorn.

Although they may not have fully believed the rumors about the Manila massacre, driven by the fear of life and death and the instinctive desire to protect their homes and property, some of the fleeing soldiers stopped, panting, and looked at the officers with lingering fear.

"Take up your weapons! Get back to your posts!"

More officers and sergeants began to follow suit, brandishing their swords or flintlock pistols and kicking the soldiers who had collapsed to the ground.

"Rely on the barricades! Hold every intersection! Batavia has high walls and thick defenses; the Chinese only have a small area around the port! As long as we hold the inner city and wait for reinforcements, or until they run out of supplies and retreat, victory will still be ours!"

"The Governor has ordered a city-wide mobilization! All citizens, sailors, and company employees must take up arms to defend their homes! Reinforcements will also be arriving from plantations outside the city and nearby outposts!"

Under the officers' combined coaxing and intimidation, and their use of both soft and hard tactics, the retreat was finally brought to a stop.

The defeated soldiers were mixed with the original city defense forces and hastily used freight wagons, heavy oak barrels, furniture and doors salvaged from nearby houses to build barricades, reconstructing a crumbling defensive line on several main streets leading to the port area.

Behind the barricades, musketeers were nervously loading ammunition, and several three-pound cannons that had been hastily towed over were pushed to the street corner, their dark muzzles aimed at the direction from which the Ming army might appear.

"Hold on! Wait until they're within range before firing!" a Dutch captain shouted hoarsely from behind a barrel of liquor. His military cap was nowhere to be seen, and his blond curly hair was stuck to his forehead with sweat and gunpowder.

Inside the port, more than 2,300 Ming soldiers had already landed, and sixteen heavy 12-pound infantry cannons were being laboriously carried onto the dock by the combined efforts of gunners and sailors.

In addition to the army, the marines on each of the Nanyang Fleet's warships were also sent to the dock. However, the number of marines on each ship was not large, and the total number of marines was only slightly more than that of a line infantry squad.

As an army commander, Chen Ang, after confirming that the resistance inside the port had been eliminated, also went aboard the docks of Batavia. Looking at the city echoing with the sound of warning bells, he understood the importance of a swift victory and ordered the skirmishers to lead the way, while the companies continued to advance into the city along the streets.

On the streets, Dutch soldiers were still anxiously awaiting further enemy attacks. Some lay behind barricades, silently reciting prayers, while many others gripped their muskets so tightly that their fingers turned white and their palms were sweaty. Time seemed to stretch out, and every second was excruciating.

Finally, a green figure appeared at the street corner ahead.

Dressed in dark green uniforms different from those of the line infantry, the skirmishers crouched low, using the porches, pillars, and stalls on both sides of the street as cover, and quickly advanced forward. They soon discovered the barricades blocking their way.

Almost simultaneously, the Dutch forces also discovered these loosely advancing enemies.

"Fire!"

Without the slightest hesitation, the Dutch officer brandished his sword and shouted the order.

The next moment, Dutch musketeers leaned out from behind the barricades and fired. White smoke instantly filled the street corner, and lead bullets whistled through the air, hitting the stone pavement and sparking. A Ming soldier who had rushed too far forward was hit in the shoulder, groaned, rolled to the side, and was dragged behind cover by his comrades.

"Fight back! Fight back!"

The stragglers shouted and stopped, kneeling on one knee and firing back at the outstretched Dutch soldiers. One soldier, who had just fired a lead bullet and was about to pull back, was shot in the neck. Blood spurted out, and he fell backward before he could even scream.

The Dutch captain who brandished his sword and shouted immediately became a target for the skirmishers. One skirmisher crouched behind a stone pillar, squinted, aimed, held his breath, and pulled the trigger.

The captain was shouting when blood suddenly burst from his chest. He looked down at the rapidly expanding crimson stain on his chest, a look of confusion flashing in his eyes, before collapsing to the ground in despair.

At the same time, the bullets of the other skirmishers also found their targets precisely—gunners, standard-bearers, and officers trying to regroup, plunging the Dutch troops behind the barricades into chaos.

"Forward in a linear formation!"

Seeing that the Dutch army was temporarily suppressed, the line infantry officer following behind the skirmishers immediately drew his sword and shouted an order. With his command, two companies of Ming army line infantry appeared from the street corner in three neat rows. They advanced forward shoulder to shoulder with drum-like steps. The drummer beat the rhythm of the attack, and the flag bearer held up the "Ming" battle flag. The whole team was like a moving red wall rolling forward.

"My God..." A young Dutch soldier looked at the scene and his hand holding the gun began to tremble.

"Fire! Fire now!" roared the Dutch lieutenant who had temporarily taken over command.

The three-pound cannons behind the barricades roared, and solid shot whistled out, hitting the Ming army ranks head-on. Instantly, a bloody alley was ripped open, and four or five soldiers fell with screams. But the Ming army ranks did not stop at all. Soldiers in the rear quickly filled the gaps, and their steps remained neat.

"Proceed with the advance! Prepare for a 50-pace volley!"

The line infantry advanced in silence, the only sounds being the rhythmic thud of their boots on the stone slabs and the suppressed groans of the wounded.

Sixty steps...

Fifty steps...

"Halt! Draw your guns!"

Swah——

Nearly a hundred flintlock muskets were raised in unison.

The Dutch defenders, recovering from their initial shock, began to lean out from behind the barricades, ready to fire.

"put!"

"Fire!"

Both sides gave the orders almost simultaneously.

The deafening volley of bullets echoed through the street, and thick white smoke instantly engulfed the entire street. Lead bullets crisscrossed in the air, forming a deadly net. Dutch soldiers behind the barricades fell like wheat being harvested, and dozens of gaps appeared in the Ming army's line of fire.

But the Ming army's superior training was now on full display – after the first volley fired, they quickly crouched down to give up their firing range, the second volley opened fire immediately, and then the third volley. The continuous barrage of gunfire was like a constant wave, crashing against the barricades of the Dutch defenders.

"charge!"

Before the white smoke had even cleared, the Ming army roared and charged forward with bayonets. The surviving Dutch defenders, still reeling from the shock of three volleys, saw countless gleaming bayonets piercing through the smoke.

"Retreat! Retreat!" The Dutch lieutenant, whose arm was wounded by a stray bullet and was bleeding profusely, shouted the order at the top of his lungs when he saw that the situation was bad.

Before he could finish shouting, the remaining Dutch soldiers abandoned the barricades and fled into the city in a panic. The Ming army quickly occupied the street corner, leaving some soldiers to consolidate the position and treat the wounded, while the rest of the troops continued to advance.

Similar scenes were playing out simultaneously on several streets. The Dutch may have been better at firing muskets at each other, but they were still using the old matchlock muskets. Due to their obsolescence, matchlock muskets could not be fired in dense formations like flintlock muskets, so their firepower density and accuracy during volleys were far inferior to those of the Ming army's line infantry.

Even in their prized exchange of fire, the Dutch were no match for the Ming army. Usually, after three volleys, the Dutch morale would begin to waver, and when faced with the Ming army's subsequent charge and hand-to-hand combat, they would collapse instantly.

While the Dutch and Ming armies were fiercely exchanging fire on the main streets, undercurrents were already swirling in the Chinese-populated areas of Batavia.

In the narrow alley, the doors and windows were tightly closed, but countless eyes were anxiously observing the outside world through the cracks in the doors and windows.

Gunfire continued to come from the direction of the port, getting closer and closer. Dutch soldiers could be seen running through the streets in a panic, and scattered indigenous mercenaries took the opportunity to rob shops.

In the backyard of an inconspicuous herbal medicine shop, a dozen or so Chinese men gathered in a dimly lit hall. The leader was an elderly man in his fifties with a gaunt face, named Chen Qitai, who was one of the Chinese Kapitans in Batavia.

"What's the situation outside?" Chen Qitai asked in a deep voice.

A young man strode in and whispered, "Master Chen, the Ming army has captured the port and is advancing into the city. The Dutch are retreating steadily, but they are still resisting. The Dutch soldiers are forcibly conscripting able-bodied men to move supplies and build fortifications, and they have already captured quite a few of our people."

Another middle-aged man, his face contorted with resentment, chimed in: "I just witnessed Dutch soldiers shooting three villagers in Zhugan Street who refused to move the cannonballs. Their bodies are still lying in the street!"

Suppressed curses suddenly filled the hall.

"Those red-haired barbarians are going too far!"

"Haven't we tolerated enough of the exorbitant taxes, arbitrary arrests, and frequent violence over the years?"

Chen Qitai raised his hand, and the hall gradually quieted down. He looked around at everyone and said slowly, "Since we settled here, we have suffered from the bullying and exploitation of the Dutch. We are not regarded as decent human beings, but as pigs and dogs. Over the years, on the surface, we Chinese have become rich and live in peace and contentment, but in reality, we are nothing more than livestock raised by the Dutch, which can be slaughtered at any time."

He stood up, his voice gradually becoming impassioned: "Now that the royal army has arrived, it is time for us to break free of our shackles and avenge our grievances! Gentlemen, will you continue to be lambs to the slaughter under the Dutch's knife, or will you rise up and fight to help the royal army reclaim this city, earning yourselves and your descendants a dignified status?"

"That's outrageous!"

"Let's fight those red-haired barbarians!"

"Assist the royal army in conquering the city!"

The pent-up anger of the crowd finally erupted, and they roared in unison.

Chen Qitai nodded, a resolute glint in his eyes: "Good! The Dutch are too busy resisting the royal army's attack on the city to help themselves. Mobilize the able-bodied men in each district and announce in my name, Chen Qitai, that anyone who participates in the uprising will be rewarded after it is successful, and I will also provide compensation to the families of those who die in battle!"

"Let the brothers attack the Dutch rear of their lines, raid their warehouses and barracks, so that they cannot defend themselves from both sides. Under attack from both sides, the Dutch will surely fall into disarray and be defeated!"

"Master Chen is wise!" everyone exclaimed in unison.

……

The news quickly spread throughout the Chinese community, and the Chinese people were thrilled to see that the highly respected Mr. Chen was preparing to personally lead the uprising.

They didn't care at all about the so-called bounty and compensation; the hatred they felt for being bullied and exploited by the Dutch in the past made them dream about this day.

And today, the day of the uprising has finally arrived.

"The Dutch have gone too far in bullying us! This is intolerable!"

"Kill the barbarians, welcome the royal army to seize the city!"

The entire Chinese community was in an uproar.

On Bamboo Pole Street, the bodies of three Chinese men still lay in pools of blood, while a dozen Dutch soldiers drove dozens of young Chinese men to carry sandbags to build barricades.

Suddenly, the window on the second floor of the shop next door was flung open, and a basin of scalding tung oil was poured down!

"ah--!"

Several Dutch soldiers were doused with water and screamed as they threw down their muskets and rolled on the ground.

"Fellow villagers! Let's fight those red-haired barbarians!"

Seven or eight men wielding kitchen knives and sticks rushed out of the shop. The young men who had been forcibly conscripted were stunned at first, but then they roared and turned to pounce on the Dutch soldiers who were overseeing the work.

In the chaos, someone picked up a musket discarded by a Dutch soldier, turned it upside down, and smashed the butt against the back of the enemy's head, killing the Dutchman.

Elsewhere, a small squad of Dutch soldiers and indigenous mercenaries were violently breaking down the door of a neighboring rice shop, attempting to forcibly requisition grain and conscript men. The rice shop owner tried to stop them but was slashed to the ground by the natives and fell into a pool of blood.

"Red-haired dog! Prepare to die!"

Suddenly, shouts of battle erupted from all directions. The Dutch soldiers immediately stopped banging on the door and looked around. To their horror, they discovered that countless young Chinese men, armed with machetes, carrying poles, axes, and even kitchen knives, were roaring and surrounding them.

"My God! The Chinese have rebelled!"

The Dutch soldier leading the group turned pale and hastily drew his sword, trying to command the natives to resist. But before he could finish speaking, an arrow whizzed from a distance and pierced his throat. The lieutenant's eyes widened, his sword clattered to the ground, and he slowly knelt down, clutching his bleeding neck.

"Kill the red-haired dog—!"

The Chinese roared and swarmed forward, fighting the Dutch soldiers who had hastily come to their aid. However, the Chinese outnumbered and overwhelmed the enemy force in the blink of an eye.

The burly leader cleaved open the head of a local soldier with a single stroke, splattering hot, bloody brains all over his face, but he paid no heed, instead becoming even more ferocious: "Fellow villagers! Rescue the people from the rice shop! Reclaim our grain!"

"Kill them!"

In the chaos, three Dutch musketeers hastily loaded their guns and aimed them at the crowd, but before they could pull the trigger, several bricks flew out from the crowd, hitting them and causing them to bleed from the head.

Immediately afterwards, several men carrying carrying poles rushed forward and smashed the musketeer to the ground.

Almost simultaneously, similar battles broke out in the surrounding Chinese communities.