Chapter 709: The Firearms Camp

On the twenty-second day of the eighth month, in Li Zicheng’s main camp, everyone in the roving camp — Li Zicheng, Liu Zongmin, He Yilong, Ma Shouying, Luo Rucai, Sun Kewang, and others — gazed with jubilant delight at the captured firelocks before them.

The final tally counted nearly three thousand intact Donglu firelocks seized, along with a portion of Weijinzi cartridges. Wang Dou had originally gifted Cao and Wang a total of three hundred thousand Weijinzi cartridges; added to their own supply, despite the fierce battles of recent days, a portion still remained. Li Zicheng ordered these cartridges carefully preserved.

What pained Li Zicheng and the others was that some firelocks had been fired too long, too many times, their barrels on the verge of being scrapped; and some New Army soldiers, before dying, had smashed these firelocks to pieces to keep their weapons from falling into the roving bandits’ hands — those too were unusable.

Nevertheless, the men of the roving camp patiently and meticulously collected all these firelocks and parts, not overlooking a single detail on the open plain. After all, even if a barrel was ruined, the stock, the lock, the matchcord, and such components could still be used.

At the same time, they gathered the surrendered men of the two battalions — about seven hundred wounded soldiers. Li Zicheng attached great importance to these men and placed them under the command of the recently surrendered Vice General of the Yutian Garrison New Army, Yang Shaofan.

Of course, Li Zicheng was not certain whether these New Army men had truly surrendered, for every one of them wore a numb expression and moved in silence, and many bore wound upon wound; in the end, quite a few might still die.

Yet even so, Li Zicheng and the others were fully satisfied. Not only had they achieved their prior strategic objective, they had also reaped a rich haul.

At that moment, Li Zicheng was examining a firelock in his hands — a firelock somewhat different from the Ming army firelocks he usually saw.

First was the stock: Li Zicheng thought it resembled the neck of a swan. He tried aiming it and felt it was very conducive to gripping and to pressing the cheek for aim, whereas many Ming army guns could not be braced against the shoulder.

This swan-neck style also seemed to save labor and materials, with weight reduction in mind. Li Zicheng had heard that Wang Dou started out by robbing bandits, so he was probably accustomed to meticulous calculation and devised this system to save money and grain — but it was genuinely useful.

Yet on second thought, that could not be right, because if they were saving materials, the entire stock and body would not need to be made of fine walnut — a hardwood always regarded as excellent furniture timber, with straight grain and a fine, even structure, easy to carve, and taking on a fine luster after lacquering. Such wood was not cheap.

Not to mention that the buttplate was made of brass, secured with a bolt. Taking a blow from such a stock would be no small matter. Just imagining that stock smashing into his own face made Li Zicheng’s teeth ache.

Looking further at the lower part of the muzzle, one could see a copper band fastened tight; the middle section was the same. Both ends of the ramrod were sheathed in refined iron, locked with iron bolts. Ming army ramrods were often made of wood and frequently snapped; these Donglu firelocks clearly had no such flaw.

At the front and rear of the gun there was also a sling with metal buckles that could be freely lengthened or shortened, making it very convenient to carry on the back while marching. The bandits clicked their tongues in endless wonder, all saying that Wang Dou had truly put no small effort into these firearms.

What drew Li Zicheng’s notice was the priming pan mechanism on the lock. He slowly squeezed the trigger and watched as the pan cover gradually opened, the pan cover and the cock moving in linkage — so exquisitely coordinated that even in a strong gale when firing, there was no fear of the priming powder being blown away, no risk of a misfire in the face of the enemy, and it saved the step of manually opening the pan cover.

Gazing at the fine workmanship, every component polished smooth, the entire firelock beautiful to behold and yet so lethally effective in battle, Li Zicheng could not help but sigh. Compared to the firearms used in the army, these weapons before him were exactly as Wang Dou had once described — a phrase that had spread through the Great Ming without anyone quite noticing: high-end, imposing, top-class.

Tian Jianxiu, who managed logistics, could not resist picking up a firelock at that moment and examining it closely, even squeezing the trigger as Li Zicheng had done. He sighed, “Everything else is manageable, but this pan-cover-and-cock mechanism is hard to make. The cover opens, the cock strikes fire. I recall that back in the Wanli reign, Secretary Zhao already developed the Xuanyuan gun, which feared neither wind nor rain. Yet even now, many firelocks among the government troops lack such a mechanism. Once the pan is opened, if the wind is fierce, the priming powder is blown away, and in battle they often fail to fire. Most of what our righteous army has captured are those kinds of firelocks.”

An excited gleam appeared in his eyes. They had finally captured advanced weapons. With these Yama King guns, the righteous army was even more like a tiger that had grown wings.

He had reason to speak so. Although the pan-cover-and-cock mechanism had been created by Zhao Shizhen during the Wanli reign, it had always been controversial. The Binglu stated: “…Recently there have been bamboo-stocked arquebuses and self-closing pan arquebuses, which are marvels of the moment, but in the end they are troublesome…”

Troublesome and difficult to mass-produce — that was why self-closing pan arquebuses were hard to popularize in the north. Many officers preferred to use three-eyed guns, loading each barrel with two or three lead balls and firing them in volleys when the enemy was thirty or forty paces away. When enemy cavalry charged in, they would wield the gun as a cudgel — simple and convenient.

Used well, the three-eyed gun was not bad, but the arquebus was the trend of historical development — after all, range was the decisive factor.

They examined firelock after firelock at length; every one seemed like a twin brother of the next. The men of the roving camp clicked their tongues in ceaseless admiration. Even if there were craftsmen in the camp who could make a few firearms of this sort, some with a level of refinement not inferior to these, such scale, such mass production, was beyond anyone’s imagination.

That standardization in particular left a deep impression on everyone. Cartridge and powder were unified; one simply loaded them into the gun and it was ready to use — unlike in their own army or the Ming army, where each man’s lead balls were either too large or too small, often impossible to use interchangeably, posing a severe test for logistics.

Yet what looked easy was hard to achieve. Take this uniform caliber, for instance — to truly accomplish it, Li Zicheng felt, was beset with difficulties and not easily done.

The men of the Ge and Zuo Five Camps were also extremely excited. According to the agreement made afterward, of the captured firelocks, the Chuang Camp would take one thousand five hundred, and the remainder would be distributed among their own camps and men like Luo Rucai. Thinking of these spoils, even the earlier dead and wounded had been worth it.

Li Zicheng sighed with deep satisfaction and said with a smile to Yang Shaofan, who had remained silent beside him all the while, “The firearms of the New Army have always commanded Li’s admiration. Would Brother Yang be willing to give us brothers a demonstration, to broaden our horizons?”

The men of the roving camp all cast sidelong glances at Yang Shaofan. They did not know quite what to feel toward him — contempt, not really. In every camp, there were plenty of government troops who had surrendered, officers not few among them; they themselves had surrendered and rebelled again, and were often granted amnesty.

No one had any particular feeling about switching allegiances. It was just that someone as outstanding as Yang Shaofan, who had beaten them so badly, was the first of his kind.

Yet in the roving camp, strength was supreme. After that bitter battle, the moment Yang Shaofan surrendered, he immediately won a rather high status in the Chuang Army, ranking alongside men like Yuan Zongdi. Even the leaders of the Ge and Zuo Five Camps and the various divisions of the Cao Camp all treated Yang Shaofan with an attitude of cordiality.

As everyone’s gazes fell upon him, Yang Shaofan’s face betrayed no expression. He merely clasped his fists and declared in a loud voice, “This subordinate officer obeys!”

With a wave of his hand, about one hundred New Army musketeers came forward. Every one of them was silent. Under Yang Shaofan’s direction, they formed four ranks, twenty-five men per rank, each holding a firelock. Watching them form up, some roving camp officers grew wary, and the personal guards behind each leader also went on alert — only Li Zicheng acted as if nothing were amiss.

He noticed that the matchcords these firelocks used were somewhat different: they smoldered more slowly and produced less flame. He also noted the New Army soldiers’ paper cartridges, which seemed something that could be widely adopted in the army, since they appeared relatively simple. What Li Zicheng could not figure out was where Wang Dou got so much gunpowder, and so ferociously powerful at that.

Apart from capturing it from government troops, Li Zicheng and the others had not failed to consider making gunpowder themselves — only that at present, good saltpeter was scarce. To produce good saltpeter required egg whites, radishes, and a whole series of other things to absorb and remove the impurities within.

Those egg whites and the like — there was not even enough food in the army to eat, and they were supposed to use them to absorb impurities? So apart from small quantities of gunpowder, the roving camp could forget about manufacturing black powder on a large scale.

When asked about this, Yang Shaofan likewise did not understand. Back in Yutian, he too had wanted to manufacture gunpowder on a large scale. The formula for the Weijinzi cartridges was something every officer eyed with envy, yet looking across the Great Ming, it seemed only Wang Dou had that capability. The secret formula was classified as top secret by their military workshop; no spy could ferret it out.

The New Army began demonstrating their firearms — a layered volley-fire tactic. At Yang Shaofan’s first order, the first three ranks of musketeers knelt, and the rear rank raised their guns and took aim. At Yang Shaofan’s second shouted command, the fourth rank fired in unison. Amid a crackling roar and swirling smoke, the wooden placards serving as targets several dozen paces ahead were blasted to splinters.

Li Zicheng’s expression was grave. Tian Jianxiu wiped his hands, both delighted and fearful. He Yilong stuck out his tongue and muttered, “Good heavens…”

Only by experiencing it at close range could one understand the terror of Donglu firearms.

Li Dingguo clenched his fists, evidently recalling once more his adoptive father Zhang Xianzhong, who had died at Wang Dou’s hands. They had rampaged far and wide, running Yang Sichang in circles, never imagining that upon returning to Xiangyang they would fall into Wang Dou’s ambush. That scoundrel Wang’s tricks were endless — with lethal firearms in hand and fierce troops at his command, the man himself was even more uncannily strange.

Whenever Li Dingguo reflected on it afterward, a bone-chilling shudder always ran through him, as if Wang Dou could foretell the future. Other than that, Li Dingguo could not explain how Wang Dou had precisely laid an ambush in Xiangyang.

Volley after volley roared, acrid gunsmoke hanging thick. Under Yang Shaofan’s shouted orders, the New Army soldiers fired again and again. Many Chuang Camp soldiers stood watching from the sidelines; they looked at the demonstrating New Army musketeers, then at the targets over yonder, and on every face rose an expression of awe and fear. As for Li Zicheng and the others watching from behind, it was impossible to tell what expressions they wore anymore.

At last, Li Zicheng barked: “Halt!”

Yang Shaofan ordered the firing to stop, and only then did the men of the roving camp recover their wits.

Everyone still felt as if they had not quite recovered from the shock; each felt his heart pounding in alarm. This was a force that no mere mortal could withstand.

Li Zicheng let out a breath. Beyond the power of the firelocks, what impressed him deeply was the speed at which the New Army soldiers loaded their cartridges. In the time an ordinary Ming soldier fired one shot, they could fire several. Of course, the paper cartridge with its pre-measured charge deserved the credit for that.

Li Zicheng made up his mind: he must promote this throughout the army. Even though the varying calibers and barrel quality of different firelocks would surely create many difficulties, it had to be resolutely carried out.

And also…

Li Zicheng took the firelock from a musketeer’s hands. During the demonstration just now, they had fired four or five volleys in one burst, yet feeling the gun in his hands, it still seemed capable of firing many more rounds.

Tian Jianxiu had noticed this too. He said, “Among the arquebuses we’ve captured in the past, many became too hot to fire after just three shots and had to be wrapped in wet cloths. These firearms do not have that problem.”

He actually knew the reason: “It is because the bore is not smooth.”

Liu Zongmin gave a cold snort. “The government troops keep churning out shoddy firearms — how is our righteous army supposed to use them?”

Li Zicheng looked toward Yang Shaofan. He wanted to know how Wang Dou was able to mass-produce arquebuses — what the reason was. He now had more and more craftsmen in his army, yet all told, they could not produce many guns in a month. To say nothing else, just drilling the bore — it was hard to finish even one barrel in a month.

On these matters, what Yang Shaofan knew was in truth only half-understood. He said, “I have heard that the Donglu uses water-powered machinery. In ten days or half a month, they can drill one barrel. In particular, their drill bits and cutting tools are of hard steel and do not need frequent replacement, so the boring speed is fast.”

Among Ming army craftsmen, there were also manually powered drilling beds — quite common in the capital, for instance. It was not that no one had thought of water-powered drilling beds; the key problem was that the drill bits were made of low-carbon soft steel, insufficiently hard, and there was no way to dissipate heat from the drill rod. When using water power, the tool wear rate during mass production was extremely high, and it felt like the loss outweighed the gain. So gradually, everyone switched back to manual labor.

Moreover, at that time, firearms warfare was not centered on the arquebus; there was no need for such large-scale manufacture. Cao Bianjiao had also tried it in Yutian and in the end decided it was better to let the old master craftsmen take their time.

Yang Shaofan said, “This subordinate officer also feels that the Donglu firelock is made by the rolled-joint method, not the welded-joint method. Yet the Donglu guns simply do not burst their barrels easily. The secret within is truly beyond the knowledge of ordinary men.”

Generally, the welded-joint method produced finer pieces, because when forging the barrel, several short tubes had to be welded together into one long tube. No craftsman with less than ten years of experience in the trade could produce one.

The rolled-joint method was what Qi Jiguang advocated: directly rolling a double layer of wrought-iron plate into a tube. The advantage was that no welding was required and the skill demanded of the craftsman was not high. The drawback was that if not done well, the texture of the barrel could vary from front to back, making it prone to bursting. Many Ming army arquebuses were just like that.

But why, when Wang Dou used the same method, were his barrels relatively uniform, their thickness and solidity assured?

Everyone felt a headache coming on. Li Dingguo suddenly said, “May I ask General Yang, I have heard that Wang Dou’s troops now use a thunderbolt gun that can fire without a matchcord — is that true?”

Yang Shaofan watched him. This young commander in the roving camp drew much of his attention, because he felt Li Dingguo always carried a different kind of bearing.

He said, "Yes. The government troops call it the self-igniting fire lance. In the eighth year of Chongzhen, Censor Bi built firearms that needed no match cord and could be used in rain or snow. However, the spring-steel plate inside is difficult to make. Moreover, before the self-closing flash pan is widely adopted, it is still too early for the righteous army to use self-igniting fire lances."

He intended to speak more with the crowd. The knowledge he possessed would be what he relied on to settle down and make a living from now on — how could he easily give it away?

Still, he felt that the self-igniting fire lance invented by Bi Maokang was far more complex than what the Jingbian Army used. Yet he did not know that, because of the spring-steel plate problem, Bi Maokang's design was actually closer to a wheellock gun.

A flintlock relies on flint striking to ignite and fire. The striking steel is also the flash pan cover. When the flint strikes down, to ensure successful ignition, the steel plate acting as the spring requires great force — this places extraordinary demands on the steel material.

Also, because the hammer spring lacked strength, Bi Maokang had no choice but to add many internal parts, so in the end it resembled a wheellock gun and was still different from the Jingbian Army's flintlock.

Li Zicheng and the others listened with keen interest to the conversation between Li Dingguo and Yang Shaofan, but this topic was far removed from them. That so-called thunderbolt musket required a self-closing flash pan, yet at present the army had few even of the self-closing flash pan muskets. A flint-using thunderbolt musket was even more out of reach and could only be discussed later.

Li Zicheng was calculating further. At present the army had captured quite a few Donglu firearms, and with the addition of elite new troops, they should be able to establish a dedicated firearms battalion.

He had to collect more gunpowder to prevent the captured powerful cartridges from running out. When the time came to produce musket cartridges, even if the power fell short of Donglu gunpowder, with fine bird guns in hand, using second-rate cartridges would still be more than enough to deal with ordinary government troops.

Sun Kewang fiddled with the fire lance in his hands with great enthusiasm, calculating what he would do once it was distributed to him.

But he suddenly came to his senses. These firearms that they regarded as treasures were only a very, very small portion of Wang Dou's army. He also had cannons, sharper thunderbolt muskets, and all kinds of weapons they knew nothing about. So what if they had a few fire lances?

Cold sweat trickled down his back. He thought again: he had heard that Wang Dou was fighting the Mongols beyond the frontier — he wondered how that was going now? (To be continued. If you enjoy this work, welcome to Qidian to cast your votes and monthly tickets. Your support is my greatest motivation. Mobile users please go to m. to read.)

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