Chapter 601: ? Crawley's Fantasy Journey (IV)

The history of the mortar is long and storied — from the simple stone-throwing catapults of the 1st century to the German 450-caliber siege cannon of World War II.

Ancient or modern, all mortars share the same design philosophy: short range, high firing angle, and a steep parabolic trajectory, meant for bombarding city defense fortifications.

In a word: wherever there are city defenses, there are mortars.

What appeared at Hongji Fort was precisely such a super-large-caliber cannon. Though its range was a bit short at only 500 meters, Grond was immensely powerful, capable of continuously firing heavy shot exceeding 48-pound caliber to smash down upon the opposing fortress.

In the seventeenth century, a 170-millimeter mortar already exceeded 48-pound caliber, making it the largest caliber in the world without a doubt.

Although Europe at this point in time also had large-caliber cast cannons, its smelting and casting techniques were backward, fundamentally unable to meet the combat standards that a certain power base had set for artillery.

This "Grond," unveiled today, was originally an experimental product of the Dayuan Military Foundry.

Unfortunately, after verifying a series of casting and forging processes for large metal components, this finished cannon, along with several other experimental pieces of minor differences, was tossed into a warehouse to gather dust.

There was no helping it — though the quality of the experimental pieces fully met combat standards, the field transport environment of the seventeenth century was harsh, and the Army had absolutely no need for equipment weighing over five tons. By the time these behemoths crawled inch by inch to their firing positions, the front lines might well have already blasted open the city walls with explosive packs two days prior.

Yet the world is unpredictable. After signing the agreement with the Annamese, the Army suddenly discovered that, in order to help the Zheng Clan push southward according to the pact, the behemoths in the warehouse could indeed be put to use.

As for the behemoths' shortcomings, the Annamese certainly did not mind. In this era, any random siege could last months or even years, and the Annamese had ample time and manpower to haul the behemoths to the front lines and crack open the "rebels'" turtle shells.

The Army, for its part, only needed to send military instructors and gun crews.

And so, one behemoth was urgently loaded onto a ship. As for the sinister name on the cannon's body, it had been ordered stamped on back during casting by certain individuals nostalgic for the Old World.

Seeing this fierce, imposing, ruggedly majestic cannon, the many guests present today felt their thoughts descend into chaos.

Many of them had originally assumed that the military clauses in the treaty, those meant to help Annam "unify," were most likely a bluff to fool the Annamese: wouldn't maintaining a "north-south divide" in Annam be the best option for outsiders manipulating natives and preserving "long-term peace and stability"?

Yet today, this cannon shattered that fixed mindset.

Every faction keeps its own accounts. For the Transmigrators, whose fundamental purpose was entirely different, the colonizers' model of divide-and-coexist rule was completely unsuitable for them.

The Crossing Faction's goal was replacement, so rather than spending time and effort rooting out each separatist regime one by one, it was far easier to let them fight among themselves first to determine a victor, and then use means to pull a substitution.

In any case, the ones dying wouldn't be their own people. If the Annamese liked unifying the realm, let them go ahead.

Grumbling aside, after witnessing the cannon handover ceremony, the guests in attendance still adhered to proper etiquette (etiquette brought by the Transmigrators) and applauded in congratulations.

The two civil and military officials representing the Kingdom of Annam, who had come to Hongji Fort to assess the implementation of the military aid agreement, were likewise all smiles.

The Annamese truly had not expected the Ming People to be so trustworthy and faithful to their word, delivering such a nation-guarding weapon just like that.

Thereupon, the Annamese general in charge of receiving it announced on the spot: the troops surrounding Hongji Fort would all withdraw by tomorrow at the latest. Furthermore, the New Army would be formed at top speed, and the Ming instructors' team was welcome to come provide guidance.

And thus, the matter was settled.

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This moment marked the curtain falling on a series of military and political actions by a certain evil power base interfering in the Kingdom of Annam. As for the second phase to follow, that was slow, grinding work, and could be considered the opening of a new chapter.

Returning to the present. After the arms donation ceremony concluded, official business was considered done, and what followed was a relaxed banquet.

Soon, some servants dressed in clean short shirts reconfigured the venue. The square formation of chairs in the center scattered apart, arranged into circles of tea and wine reception style around round tables.

The guests dispersed, sitting together according to their national factions. Old William and Crawley, this pair, sat down at the Dutch table without a doubt.

While they were still finding their seats, a steady stream of fruit, tea, wine, coffee, tobacco leaves, and simple pastries were laid out on the tabletop.

Seeing the various tea drinks and snacks on the white cotton tablecloth, Crawley felt dazed for a moment, as if he had returned to his old home in Yorkshire.

Back then, every spring flower-viewing season, the nearby estate owners and Nobility would come to visit Crawley's home. The gentlemen and ladies, likewise seated on the sun-drenched lawn, attended by well-trained servants, would sip vanilla lemon juice and eat biscuits, the time leisurely and languid.

The next moment, Crawley's reverie was interrupted. A beautiful blue-and-white porcelain cup appeared before him: "Try it, Crawley. This is a unique Eastern beverage, called 'tea.'"

Taking the cup upon hearing this, Crawley examined the emerald tea and the leaves standing upright one by one, then took a gentle sip.

He quickly gave his assessment: "It has a botanical fragrance and bitterness, somewhat like coffee. It seems quite nice."

Old William laughed: "This is a unique Eastern beverage. Like coffee, Easterners use it to refresh themselves."

At this point, the other Dutchmen at the table joined the conversation. Yet, like all idle chat, the Dutchmen's topic quickly shifted from tea to silk and bleaching powder. Then it moved on to cannons, commerce, and navigation, and finally, without any surprise, turned to the situation in East Asia.

Throughout this process, although Old William and Crawley frequently participated in the discussion, the attention of both was secretly fixed on the main table not far away.

At last, after conversing with a group of Dutch merchants for a long while, Old William saw the scene he had been waiting for: the several waves of guests who had gone to pay their respects had all left the main table one after another, and those two Annamese officials had finally departed as well.

The next moment, Old William secretly signaled: the opportunity had come.

Crawley understood and rose, adjusted his attire, and together with Old William, strolled toward the main table.

The so-called main table was, without a doubt, the table occupied by the Transmigrators.

Since quite a few people had come to Annam this time, the main table was formed by joining three long tables together, and it was likewise piled high with all sorts of tea pastries, fruits, and drinks.

"Hahaha, dear friends, the living Old William sees you again!"

Putting on the appearance of reuniting after a long separation, Old William, before even reaching the table, preemptively struck with a mouthful of strangely accented, grammatically flawed Chinese.

Most of the Transmigrators at the main table knew Old William. Back when they had just seized the Dutch Trading Post on Dayuan Island, Old William, as an advanced captive, hobbled around everywhere on his crutch every day and had proper chats with quite a few Transmigrators.

The Transmigrators of that time had just run onto the island to play Great King and were still in their loser phase, so they were basically approachable, far from their current superior demeanor, and everyone could be considered "old friends."

Thus, upon seeing Old William, many people raised their wine glasses in greeting: "William, you've come to East Asia to sell crutches again!"

Seeing his popularity undiminished, Old William's large beard perked up even higher: "The crutch is a witness to our friendship, not for sale. I brought many Indian horses this time, all of them charming. They've already been unloaded from the ship."

"I saw the horses, Marwari Horses with curled ears, no mistake. They've all been received by the Army."

Li Hao, a former science and engineering master's graduate now working in the Ministry of Commerce, asked with his legs crossed: "But I recall the Ministry of Commerce also assigned you a task. Have you completed it?"

"Dear Li, never doubt Mr. William's credibility!"

At this, Old William tilted his head to signal Crawley, who then produced a stack of parchment from an Indian rhino leather bag at his waist.

This stack of parchment was extremely critical to the cargo — it was another project Old William had undertaken with the Transmigrators, besides the horses.

What project? Nitre. Indian nitre.

It must be said, although Old William had always been able to obtain sought-after goods from a certain power base, there was a price to pay in between, such as this time's horse transport.

The Army would not entrust an ordinary merchant to go to India to collect and transport breeding horses. The risks involved were too great; a moment's carelessness and the horses could suffer total annihilation due to plague or other reasons, causing the down payment from this side to be completely lost.

Furthermore, regarding supplies like breeding horses and nitre, since they touched upon strategic directions, the Crossing Faction usually did not make a big fanfare, only entrusting "strength-tested" "old friends" to do it.

Old William was precisely such an old friend.

The parchment he produced today was an investigative report on nitre-producing regions that he had previously spent several months writing in various coastal cities of India.

This report was very comprehensive. Old William had done his utmost to investigate the nitre-producing regions in parts of India. For this, he did not hesitate to venture deep into India's interior, personally visiting and recording the conditions of the nitre production sites.

The next moment, Li Hao reached out and picked up a sheet of parchment, scrutinizing it closely.

At the same time, several other hands reached over from beside him.

Nitre was an extremely important strategic resource. Information concerning nitre was of concern not only to the Ministry of Commerce, but also to the Agriculture Department, the military, the chemical industry, and other departments, and so that stack of parchment was quickly emptied.

"Not bad."

After glancing over it a few times, Li Hao was the first to express appreciation for the parchment's contents: beautiful English calligraphy, clear entries, and detailed records concerning nitre production in the princely states of India.

If the contents of this material proved true, it would have a significant impact on the "Government's" future plans for formulating nitre strategy.

"William, did you bring samples?"

Old William respectfully replied, "In the hold of the Jacob's Wife, there are four lasts of nitre. As per the Ministry of Commerce's instructions, they have been sorted by their place of origin."

"Very good, William. It seems you struck it rich on this trip! This report is very important!"

"Gentlemen, all of this is thanks to my British nephew, Crawley. As you know, Old William is a poor soul from the countryside of Luxembourg who never learned his letters."

Crawley, having been deftly pushed forward by Old William for introduction, could only forcibly suppress his astonishment at this moment to face the Eastern Nobility—he had already been staring dumbfounded, because the several people who had taken the parchments were all intently reading the English calligraphy he himself had written.

Crawley swore, they were not faking it!

Dear God, since when was English so well-received? And in the faraway East, no less?