Wind Rises in North America 1625

Chapter 400 Haidong (Part Two)

Many Ming Dynasty documents often use "Eastern Sea" to refer to the western coast of the Ussuri River, such as the record in the Liaodong Zhi: "East of the mouth of the Ussuri River is all the Eastern Sea."

During the Yongle reign, in order to manage this vast region, the Nurgan Regional Military Commission was established as a military and political institution. Its jurisdiction extended from the Onon River in the west to Sakhalin Island in the east, from the Outer Khingan Mountains in the north to the Tumen River in the south, and the area east of the Ussuri River to the sea was all under its jurisdiction.

For the purpose of supervision, the Ming Dynasty also set up several important military outposts embedded in it, such as Xishenwei (near present-day Khabarovsk, Russia) and Yimahewei (in the area around present-day Iman River, Russia).

At the same time, the Ming Dynasty also dispatched officials (such as Kang Wang and Wang Zhaozhou) to directly govern several tribes and regions, and relied on the Yishiha fleet (with hundreds to thousands of officers and soldiers, and more than twenty large dugout canoes and flat-bottomed boats) to regularly patrol the lower reaches of the Heilongjiang River to maintain the Ming Dynasty's rule in the region.

However, during the Xuande period, the policy of recuperation and development was implemented, which not only led to the complete withdrawal of Annam, but also the gradual abandonment of the Nurgan Regional Military Commission on the grounds that "the land is vast and sparsely populated, and the expenses are enormous".

In the second year of the Xuande reign, the Ming court ordered the cessation of the construction of inland river vessels, the halt of grain transport, and the complete dismantling of several directly administered garrison posts.

In the eighth year of the Xuande reign, after the Yishiha fleet's final patrol, all the officers and soldiers of the garrisons were withdrawn to Liaodong, leaving only nominal control.

In the ninth year of the Xuande reign, the Nurgan Regional Military Commission was downgraded in administrative rank, and its functions were merged into the Liaodong Regional Military Commission, causing the Ming Dynasty's actual control over the Northeast region to shrink to the Kaiyuan area of ​​Liaoning.

During the "Baozong" period, due to the Tumu Crisis, the military strength of the Ming Dynasty was almost destroyed, and its control over the Northeast was further relaxed. In many official documents, "Nurgan Regional Military Commission" was replaced by "Heilongjiang Tribes".

The Jurchen garrison tribes, which originally relied on the Ming Dynasty's rewards and tribute trade for survival, also disintegrated. The "Heilongjiang tribes" successively established themselves and no longer obeyed the Ming Dynasty's orders.

As Jianzhou rose to power, this former royal territory eventually became a hunting ground and source of soldiers for the Jianzhou Jurchens.

It wasn't until April of the eighth year of the Chongzhen Emperor's reign (1635) that a fleet of immigrant ships from Beiying Island braved the waves and arrived, building Yongming Fort and Jinghai Village (present-day Nakhodka Port) on the eastern coast of the sea. Only then did the Han Chinese begin their campaign to conquer the Changbai Mountains and the Heilongjiang River region.
In the following years, waves of immigrants continued to arrive in the area, building villages and setting up fur trading posts, gradually moving from the coast into the inland.

In February of last year, the Beiying Colonization Area established the Haidong Colonization Sub-district and set up a management organization to uniformly manage the more than 30 large and small forts, trading posts and numerous indigenous tribes that had been built in the area.

Haixi Village is the northernmost stronghold in the Haidong Colonization Area, located at the southwestern end of Beiqinhai (Xingkai Lake). Initially a fur purchasing station, it was expanded into a wooden village covering an area of ​​about 40 square meters in April of this year after more than ten Koreans were brought in. It became the most important settlement for the new Chinese in the Great Lakes area.

On June 18, before the morning mist had completely dissipated, Chen Shitou, on guard duty atop the high observation platform, rubbed his face vigorously with both hands to try and stay awake.

The shift change is about to begin, and the village chief will definitely come to check the sentry posts and ask about the second half of the night's duty. I can't let him see me looking so dejected.

In the first half of the night, the two big yellow dogs in the village kept barking, which made him break out in a cold sweat with tension. Holding his musket, he stared wide-eyed, not daring to blink for fear that an enemy or wild animal hiding in the darkness might suddenly rush in.

The dozen or so companions who were temporarily awakened also stared outside in terror, just like him. Some of the new Koreans even trembled so much that they almost dropped their knives and guns, which made the village head curse them incessantly.

Perhaps to embolden the villagers, or perhaps to warn of any threats outside the village, the village chief ordered his men to fire two shots into the pitch-black wilderness.

The flashes of gunfire were particularly dazzling in the night, and the explosive gunshots shook the silent wilderness.

But after the gunshot, nothing happened. The whole earth was silent. Even the birds and beasts that liked to be active at night seemed to be frightened by the sudden gunshot and fled into the depths of the dense forest.

After fussing for a quarter of an hour and seeing that there was no danger approaching, the village chief told Chen Shitou to continue to keep watch while the others returned to their residences to rest.

This situation has been playing out frequently over the past two weeks, making everyone a bit paranoid and mentally tormented, making it impossible for them to get proper rest.

how so?

Because the Tartars had sneaked over.

A dozen days ago, several hunters from the Hezhe tribe in the middle reaches of the Muling River told them some amazing news when they came to trade.

The Khanate's general, leading hundreds of warriors, is touring the local tribes and seems to be heading towards Ussuri and the Great Lakes.

They read the Khan's decree to each of the many tribes in the region, ordering all tribal leaders to go to Khan City (i.e., Shenyang) to pay tribute and pay homage in the first month of the following year.

Those who disobey will be severely punished by the Great Khan. In severe cases, their entire clan will be exterminated or executed. In milder cases, their tribe may be relocated, they may be fined, or they may have to pay several times the amount of fur tax.

Moreover, when they were demonstrating the power of the Khanate, they repeatedly asked local tribal leaders and elders whether a powerful force had risen in the Ussuri region, or whether some foreign force had suddenly entered the region.

Upon hearing this rumor, Haixi Village panicked.

The Tartars' actions were clearly an attempt to inquire about news from their Xinhua colony.

Now, disaster is brewing!

Although more than ten North Koreans were sent over in April, the village still had a small population of only twenty-seven.

With such a small number of people and a dozen or so muskets, dealing with the surrounding indigenous tribes would definitely not be a problem.

Even if a hundred or so people come, if we defend the village, we can easily repel them.

But now things are really bad; several hundred Tartars have arrived, which could be fatal!

It's important to know that the immigrants in the village were mainly refugees from Liaodong, starving people from Shandong, and a group of Koreans who had been abducted.

These people had personally experienced the barbarity and brutality of the Tartars, and had also witnessed their formidable military strength.

Even the most powerful towns of Guan Ning in our Great Ming Dynasty were repeatedly driven away by the Tartars and could only cower in a few fortified cities, defending themselves with fortifications.

If they manage to reach Haixi Village, wouldn't that mean everyone is doomed?
If it weren't for the strong suppression by the village head Sun Fuye and several old immigrants, the people in the village would probably have all fled immediately.

Because no one believed that the extremely simple wooden fence on the outside could keep the Tartars out and save them from being slaughtered.

As long as the Tartars are willing to suffer some casualties, it wouldn't be difficult for them to break through their small village.

If they flee without a fight, they will have no way to explain themselves to their superiors and will certainly be severely punished by the colonization zone.

While they might not be beheaded, they would certainly be exiled to remote islands or thrown into mines, becoming pitiful laborers.

The only option now is to quickly report the situation to Yongming Fort, either to request reinforcements to strengthen the defenses of Haixi Village and repel the Tartars' attack, or to abandon the village and move to the rear to temporarily avoid the Tartars' advance.

The messengers have been sent out; all they can do now is wait quietly.

During this time, everyone prayed to God, hoping that the Tartars would not come over, or that they would not discover the existence of Haixi Village, and then travel to other places.

"I just hope that nothing bad will happen today!"

The sun rose, the morning mist gradually dissipated, and a layer of cold, silvery light shimmered on the distant lake surface, which was quite beautiful.

Chen Shitou yawned widely, feeling his eyelids were so heavy he could barely keep them open.

After finishing my shift and having a good meal, I'm definitely going to get a good night's sleep!
He glanced at the meadow to the west, and his pupils suddenly contracted.

In the distance, a dark shadow appeared in the thin mist.

At first, he thought his eyelids were heavy and he was seeing things, but as the shadow got closer and its outline became clearer, it felt as if an invisible hand was gripping his throat tightly, and he even stopped breathing for a moment.

"The Tartars!...The Tartars are here!"

More than three hundred armored soldiers, like dark clouds pressing down, slowly approached Haixi Village.

They made no attempt to conceal their presence, and simply lined up openly a hundred paces away from the village.

It was as if they were being told that the fate of this village was already sealed.

A dozen or so warhorses puffed out white steam, their iron hooves pounding through the morning mist with a dull thud. Whether it was the dozen or so Tatar cavalrymen on the flanks or the Eight Banners infantrymen arrayed in the middle, they were all clad in cotton armor and wore iron helmets, their eyes as cold as knives.

The soldiers in the front row held long spears, their tips gleaming coldly, while the archers in the back row had already nocked their arrows, waiting only for the order to unleash a rain of arrows into the camp.

In the center of the formation, a Tatar general clad in heavy iron armor rode out on horseback, his eyes beneath his helmet as sharp as a hawk's.

He slowly raised his hand, and the formation behind him immediately froze. Even the warhorses seemed to be intimidated by an invisible force, no longer restless, but only gently exhaling white breath.

Deathly silence.

The villagers on the stockade wall were already ashen-faced, and several timid Koreans were so weak in the knees that they almost collapsed to the ground.

Chen Shitou's fingers gripped the trigger of the musket tightly, his palms sweating profusely.

He knew that the Tartars were putting pressure on him.

They wanted to make the people in the village understand that resistance was futile against their overwhelming force.

"It's over...it's all over..." someone murmured, their voice filled with despair and helplessness.

The village chief, Sun Fuye, stood behind the village gate, his face pale and his arms trembling slightly, but his eyes were unusually fierce.

He swung his saber downwards sharply, slamming it into the wooden stake, and roared, "What are you afraid of! Either way, we're going to die. Are you going to kneel and cry while the Tartars chop off your head?!"

His roar was like a heavy hammer blow, waking everyone up.

Yes, given the brutality of the Tartars, how many people could survive once they stormed in?
The refugees who fled from Liaodong knew better than anyone that even if they surrendered, they would not have a good outcome.

They would most likely become slaves of the Tartars, endure all kinds of torture, and die an even more miserable death.

Damn it, let's fight the Tartars!
It's better to die standing than to die kneeling.

"Load the ammunition! ... Load it now!" Sun Fuye ordered sternly.

The musketeers, still unloaded, trembled as they began to load gunpowder, chambered lead bullets, and extended their muzzles from the gaps in the wooden fence, aiming at the Tartar ranks outside the village.

The Tartar general seemed to sense the resistance within the stronghold, and a cold smile appeared on his lips.

He slowly raised his hand, then suddenly swung it forward.

Dozens of archers jogged toward the village.

The heavily armored soldiers followed slowly behind, carrying swords and spears.

The cavalry on both flanks also urged their horses on, slowly approaching the stockade wall.

In a few breaths, the Tartar archers had approached the stockade wall at a distance of seventy paces. Their pace slowed down, and their bowstrings were bent into a semicircle, ready to fire.

Sixty steps.

Slogans rang out in the village.

The archer's heart skipped a beat; was the enemy about to counterattack?

"Bang! Bang! Bang!..."

A series of popping sounds, like popping beans, rang out, and plumes of white smoke rose above the stockade wall.

Five or six Tartar archers immediately fell to the ground, screaming in agony.

"Don't stop!" shouted a squad leader, continuing to stride forward and pulling the bowstring even tighter with his right hand.

During battles, the Tartars generally sought to kill at close range, using powerful bows and heavy arrows to fire at close quarters.

Whenever the Ming army attempted to maintain distance in order to take advantage of their firearms to strike the Tartars, they would use their mobility to quickly drag the battle into the "bloody thirty steps" that were advantageous to them.

The Eight Banners soldiers could "shoot at the face at thirty paces" and "shoot at the chest at fifty paces," making full use of heavy arrows and powerful bows to compensate for their range disadvantage and inflict maximum casualties on the Ming army.

"Fire arrows!"

When the Tartars approached the village within fifty paces, a loud shout rang out from the ranks.

"Whoosh whoosh..."

In an instant, arrows rained down like locusts, plunging fiercely into the village.

"Thud thud thud..." The arrows pierced the wooden wall with a dull sound. Several arrows pierced through the gaps and hit several soldiers. Blood instantly soaked their clothes.

"Ah!..." The screams continued.

"Fire!...Fire!" shouted the village head, Sun Fuye.

"Bang! Bang! Bang!..."

The muskets fired again, but the firing rate was uneven and the firepower density was much lower than the first time.

Despite the billowing smoke and the whistling of lead bullets, several Tartars were still killed or wounded. One of the bullets even accidentally struck a warhorse galloping from the flank, causing it to neigh and fall to the ground, throwing the Tartar cavalryman off its back.

The Tartar general clearly hadn't expected the firearms in the camp to be so powerful. He frowned, but soon his eyes turned even colder.

"Kill them all and leave no one alive!"

As the bugles sounded and warhorses galloped, hundreds of Tartars surged toward the stockade walls like a pack of wolves, and the earth trembled under the impact of the army.

On the watchtower, Chen Shitou gritted his teeth, trembling as he reloaded his ammunition, then raised his gun, aimed at the Tartars below, and pulled the trigger.

He knew they wouldn't last long.

"But at the very least, we should drag a few down with us!"

As the gun barrel trembled, white smoke rose, and in the dim light, a Tartar was hit by a lead bullet and fell headfirst to the ground.

"It was worth it..."

He breathed a sigh of relief, took out the pre-packaged gunpowder and bullets from his satchel, and prepared to reload the ammunition.

But in an instant, an arrow came flying straight at his face.

"Ah!..." A piercing pain shot through his right eye socket. He staggered back a few steps and fell backward from the tower.

With his last shred of consciousness, countless boots pounded on the grass, surging towards the stockade wall.

Blood, screams, gunshots, and the dying groans...

Then, the world was plunged into darkness.
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(End of this chapter)