Chapter 480: Earth Sacks

Liu Yongzhong was a squad leader of arquebusiers in the New Army’s front battalion at Xuanfu garrison city. His family had originally been ordinary military households of Chang’an Guard. During the Tartar incursions in the seventh and ninth years of Chongzhen, he lost his parents and several older brothers and sisters, and he was filled with deep, bitter hatred for the Tartars.

After the campaign in the eleventh year of Chongzhen, a wave of raising and training New Armies surged across the Great Ming. Grand Commander Yang Guozhu likewise raised a New Army at the garrison city, recruiting able-bodied young men from all over the city.

Liu Yongzhong had just turned eighteen then, in his prime and strong, and he looked honest and simple — fitting the recruiting standard that favored plain country fellows — so he smoothly became a member of the New Army. Because his eyesight was good, he ended up an arquebusier.

Grand Commander Yang loved his soldiers like sons. As soon as Liu Yongzhong enlisted, he was granted several taels of silver as a resettlement allowance, and later he was allotted nearly ten mu of farmland near Longmen Guard. He heard that after a few years he would have a full fifty mu of land under his own name, and the rest of the New Army would too. This made the New Army soldiers boil with excitement, and every man wept with gratitude.

Liu Yongzhong could not recognize a basketful of big characters, but he understood the principle that a drop of kindness should be repaid with a gushing spring. His original name was Liu Mancang. To show his reverence and gratitude toward Grand Commander Yang, he prepared a generous gift and asked the army’s morale officer to change his name to Liu Yongzhong — meaning “forever loyal to Grand Commander Yang.”

As far as Liu Yongzhong knew, many New Army soldiers changed their names too. Names like Zhongguo and Zhongzhu were countless in the army.

In his two years in the New Army, Liu Yongzhong had suppressed bandits and gone beyond the frontier to fight the Mongol Tartars. Because Liu Yongzhong trained hard and his arquebus shooting was very accurate, he earned considerable merit and rose from a common soldier to squad leader. Not long ago, he was also issued an Eastern Route arquebus and a number of powerful cartridges.

This was one of the five thousand fine arquebuses that Grand Commander Yang had obtained from Grand Commander Wang, the Loyal and Brave Count of the Eastern Route. These were the famous Eastern Route arquebuses, and with the powerful cartridges they could pierce heavy armor at a hundred paces.

After receiving the arquebus, Liu Yongzhong could hardly bear to put it down. But the powerful cartridges were limited, so in New Army camp training, the officers only let each man fire three rounds, just to get a feel for it. The rest of the powerful cartridges were to be saved for use on the battlefield.

Liu Yongzhong followed the army on campaign to Liaodong. He was no stranger to the battlefield — he had even killed Tartars before — but this was his first time fighting the genuine Manchu Tartars. Although he was desperate for revenge and had longed for this day to come, once he reached the battlefield, he could not help feeling somewhat tense.

He moved with the army formation, surrounded by an unbroken sea of signal drums and banners that surged wave after wave with the terrain.

The Manchu Tartars were indeed different from the Mongol Tartars. He had gone beyond the frontier with the army before to fight Tartars. Under their own side’s arquebuses and war wagons, those Mongols’ bows and arrows had been utterly helpless; they only dared to spur their horses and flee far away.

But these Manchu Tartars actually had cannons, and their cannons were extremely formidable.

As he marched, one cannonball after another howled past him.

He saw with his own eyes a sturdy war wagon, covered with thick cotton quilts and leather, blasted to splinters by cannon fire. Some arquebusier brothers behind the wagon and the civilian laborers pushing it suffered terribly, their bodies riddled with sharp wooden splinters, lying on the ground wailing in agony.

Even the war wagons, which he had thought invincible, could not withstand the Tartars’ cannons. He heard they also had quite a few arquebuses — very different from the legendary Tartar soldiers who only knew horse archery.

Seeing the wretched state of his army brothers, with the Tartar cannons roaring ceaselessly, the men in his squad grew uneasy. Liu Yongzhong loudly reassured them, saying that if they just held on, the Tartar cannons would soon fall silent. Because the Tartars’ red-barbarian cannons all needed to cool down; usually after firing three rounds, they had to stop for one to two quarter-hours to cool. That interval would be safe.

Liu Yongzhong had heard this from Squad Officer Yang in his unit, and Squad Officer Yang had wide connections and knew several brothers from the Jingbian Army. He, in turn, had heard it from those Jingbian Army brothers. The Jingbian Army was universally acknowledged in the Great Ming as the strongest force in the use of firearms and cannons; what they said could not be wrong.

Liu Yongzhong was of course no stranger to the Jingbian Army. In the Chang’an Guard where he originally lived, many military households had gone to the Eastern Route to work. He heard there were plenty of chances to make money there, and even if you could not get rich, you would at least have food to eat. Every New Year, these people came home laden with bags large and small, making those who had not gone out watch with envy. Listening to them boast about what they had seen and heard on the Eastern Route, one could not help but yearn to go.

They also used a kind of paper called grain tickets or something, which he heard could be used in place of silver. A few shops in Chang’an Guard had also started accepting grain tickets, but Liu Yongzhong still felt more at ease using silver.

On the march to Liaodong, Liu Yongzhong also got to know a few Jingbian Army brothers — for example, Squad Leader Zhao Rongcheng of Ding Unit, Yi Company, Rear Section of the Jingbian Army’s Right Battalion; the marksmen Chen Cheng and Ju Yiwu of the Rear Battalion’s Front Section; and some others.

He felt they were amiable people, but they were eloquent speakers, every one of them like a Licentiate, talking in well-reasoned arguments. Things like the debate between Hua and Yi, peace across the Divine Continent — even the clerks and morale officers in his own army could not speak as well as they did. Facing them was a bit like a raw recruit facing a teacher: apart from being at a loss, all one could do was obediently receive instruction.

Liu Yongzhong did not understand as much as the Jingbian Army brothers, but he believed a man should repay kindness with gratitude. In short, as long as he remained forever loyal to Grand Commander Yang, he could not go wrong.

Cannonballs howled — some shot over by the Tartar soldiers, some fired from their own side’s Shenji Battalion cannons toward the Tartar positions. Amid the cannon fire, the rousing march drums and music in the army never ceased, and grew ever louder. Accompanied by the drums and music, the unbroken army formations advanced steadily.

The immense sound of drums and music also greatly diminished the fear in the soldiers’ hearts within each formation. Liu Yongzhong strode forward in long steps, advancing ceaselessly with the music.

He hoped he could get close to the Tartars’ trenches. When he did, he would use the arquebus in his hands to ruthlessly blast open the heads of several Tartars and avenge his parents!

……

In the Qing artillery position on Huangtuling, the booming never stopped. The battery was filled with choking, acrid smoke. The Qing gunners ceaselessly swabbed barrels, loaded shells, and fired!

Their artillerymen were well-trained, especially the many Portuguese gunners among them, who actually fired faster and more accurately than the gunners of the Shenji Battalion.

In particular…

Their four-wheeled millstone gun carriages could swivel left and right. When they found a valuable target, several stout gunners would insert thick wooden poles into the wooden sockets on the cannon barrel. Then they would exert force, rotating the barrel, adjusting the angle, and fire at the target.

Large cannonball after large cannonball shot ceaselessly into the undulating Ming army formations, plunging into their ranks. Especially when the Ming army was just over two li from the main ridge and not far from the first Qing defense line on Huangtuling, the cannons they had placed on the middle ridge — those six-pounder, eight-pounder, and ten-pounder guns — also opened fire.

For the Qing troops on this side, the Ming army was now barely over one li away, well within the effective range of their cannons.

As for the Ming army’s Shenji Battalion artillery position, although it was less than two li from the Qing troops on the first defense line of Huangtuling, it was over three li from the Qing troops on the middle ridge, and a full four li from the Qing artillery position on the main ridge. Against those cannons, they could only sigh in helpless frustration.

The Qing cannons on the middle ridge and the main ridge fired in rotation. While one side cooled, the other fired; while one fired, the other cooled. This made their bombardment almost continuous.

After that, some red-barbarian three-pounder cannons on the Qing first defense line also opened fire, but they were fiercely bombarded in return by the enraged Vice Regional Commander of the Shenji Battalion, Fu Yingchong, who vented all his fury on them.

Solid shot, poison smoke shells, lime shells, thunderclap bombs — all manner of projectiles were hurled at the Qing troops on the first defense line, pounding them until they wailed for their mothers and were thrown into utter disarray.

However, under the rotating bombardment of the Qing cannons on the middle and main ridges, Yang Guozhu’s division and the Shanxi Regional Commander Li Fuming’s division, advancing in formation, also suffered massive casualties. The large number of mountain-assault equipment positioned in the central army area of the two garrisons, along with the four wagon battalions, were likewise left a scene of utter devastation under the Qing cannon fire…

Yang Guozhu stood atop the command wagon. This war wagon, pulled by four sturdy horses, was built extremely solidly and could withstand a twenty-catty cannonball. It was originally Wang Dou’s personal vehicle. When Yang Guozhu attacked Huangtuling, Wang Dou insisted that Yang Guozhu ride in his own command wagon. Yang Guozhu could not refuse and had to accept.

Fortunately he had boarded this command wagon. Just now, a cannonball had struck this very wagon, but it bounced far away and the wagon remained completely undamaged.

Yang Guozhu felt blessed. Without this wagon, he might have fallen in battle today beneath Huangtuling — dying before his campaign could succeed. Although Yang Guozhu did not fear death and often encouraged himself with the saying that a general should die after a hundred battles and be wrapped in horsehide for burial, to die silently like this without having killed a single enemy was something he was unwilling to see.

But while Yang Guozhu was safe, the officers and soldiers under his command were not so fortunate. The Qing cannonballs were already ceaselessly shooting into his central army position.

Their huge cannonballs howled over, often accompanied by grapeshot. Each volley brought hundreds of large and small projectiles. They plunged into the army formation, rolling and smashing wildly; soldiers were constantly having limbs severed, flesh and blood flying everywhere.

Some cannons in particular fired at the cavalry of the main battalion. Amid the screaming projectiles, even battle-hardened cavalrymen could not withstand the power of the shot. If struck or grazed by a cannonball, the result was broken bones and death. Even warhorses tempered by countless battles, when hit by cannonballs, neighed in agony and thrashed wildly about.

Yang Guozhu’s face was grim, his heart full of fury. Although his own army formation was spread out thinly, it still could not endure such attritional bombardment.

Moreover, the wagon battalion soldiers of the allied forces in the central army section, and the civilian laborers pushing and pulling assault carts, pointed battering rams, observation towers, covered wagons, trench bridges, and other mountain-assault equipment — faced with the Qing cannon fire, they were even more panicked and chaotic…

Yang Guozhu’s thoughts raced. Even if they closed in on the slaves’ first trench line, the greater part of his army formation would still be under the layered fire of the enemy cannons on the hill. Attacking Huangtuling was more difficult than he had imagined.

As he was pondering, he heard another burst of shrill swan-call sounds from the hill. Cannons boomed, and another wave of heavy cannonballs came howling over.

With a thunderous crash, large, heavy solid shot slammed into the ground and came barreling straight through.

Boom!

A wagon from the wagon battalion was blasted apart. The gunners pushing it screamed and collapsed in a swath. That war wagon scattered and toppled sideways; even the Frankish cannon on it was sent flying far away.

Boom!

An observation tower also fell to pieces. Several civilian laborers pushing it also collapsed; the survivors screamed and fled far away…

Boom!

A large iron ball of over ten catties howled over, heading straight for several civilian laborers pushing a long flatbed cart. The cart was piled high with heavy hemp sacks and earth baskets, originally meant for carrying soil to fill trenches later.

Seeing the cannonball coming straight at them, the civilian laborers’ faces turned ashen. It was over!

They wanted to run, but every one of them had legs turned to jelly and could not move a single step.

In that lightning-flash instant, the cannonball shot straight into the earth sacks on the cart. With a huge crash, the cart body shook violently.

But to the laborers’ overjoyed surprise, although earth and torn cloth flew everywhere, the cannonball embedded itself in the sacks and did not move at all.

They themselves were completely unharmed!

Several laborers couldn't help but weep with joy! (To be continued. If you enjoy this work, welcome to come to (.) to cast recommendation votes and monthly votes. Your support is my greatest motivation.)