Chapter 60: Blast Them to Hell!

On the small slope where the Yongwei Camp formed its battle line, dozens of red barbarian cannons stood in a row, shells flying like locusts in a frenzy toward the Qing army.

The Qing infantry formation was simply too dense—it was harder to miss than to hit, and the killing power of the red barbarian cannons was devastating!

The drawback was that they were too heavy to transport easily; a six-pound red barbarian cannon already weighed a thousand jin, and on the walls of Beijing there were even several Divine Might Grand General cannons weighing five thousand jin each.

Over the past two days, Zhu Cilang had sent men back to Beijing to transfer all the Yongwei Camp's artillery here. Ten six-pound red barbarian cannons, fifteen three-pound red barbarian cannons, ten large Franchi cannons, forty medium Franchi cannons, and some divine-mechanism rockets.

According to theory, they should first fire a wave of artillery, then wait for the enemy to charge within a hundred paces before striking with muskets.

However, Zhu Cilang worried that a volley of cannon fire might scare these Jianzhou barbarians into fleeing, so he waited until they launched their full-scale assault before using the artillery.

Zhu Cilang's goal was not to drive off the Qing soldiers, but to annihilate the Qing army's effective strength!

There was another reason, and it was the primary one: the cannon-casting craftsmanship of this era was inferior to later generations, and the cannons could not fire continuously.

After several rounds of firing, the cannons needed to pause to dissipate heat and clean the bore, otherwise they risked bursting.

Especially the red barbarian cannons—they could not fire more than three times in succession, and after every forty rounds they had to stop for the better part of an hour to allow the barrel to cool. The operational requirements in every respect were simply too demanding.

The distance between the two battle lines was beyond the range of most cannons, and even those that could reach were not within effective killing distance. Zhu Cilang wanted to maximize the cannons' damage, so he waited until the Qing army massed together in their great assault before ordering the guns to open fire.

The Yongwei Camp's several hundred gunners calmly and unhurriedly fired and reloaded, and under their barrage, swaths of Qing soldiers were blown apart—flesh and blood flying everywhere, a ghastly sight.

These gunners had been carefully trained by the Yongwei Camp. As the Capital Camps with the best conditions, and with special care from Zhu Cilang as crown prince, they were provided with large quantities of shells for training on ordinary days.

It could be said that the Yongwei Camp's artillerymen were the most elite in the entire Great Ming.

"Fire!"

At the artillery commander's order, dozens of Franchi cannons in the Yongwei Camp's artillery position erupted in a series of thunderous roars, a great mass of shells flying out, slaughtering large numbers of Qing soldiers.

Several cannons had deliberately lowered their muzzles, giving special attention to the Qing shield-bearers at the very front.

After a thunderous volley, a whole swath of the Qing shield wall at the front toppled over, and behind the shields, many Qing soldiers in heavy armor were pierced through by shot, screaming and rolling on the ground.

The Yongwei Camp's fierce artillery fire stirred waves of commotion in the attacking Qing ranks; some Qing soldiers screamed wildly and fled in all directions, running back and forth in confusion, not knowing what to do.

A few clever ones lay flat on the ground, not daring to move, dodging the rain of shot, and when the Qing soldiers behind saw that the clever ones' tactic worked, they followed suit and obediently lay flat on the ground.

Instantly a large stretch of Qing soldiers lay there playing dead, drawing a burst of laughter from the Yongwei Camp's front-line troops.

The Yongwei Camp's cannon fire had given Yangguri a great fright, and he had long since retreated under the protection of his personal guards to a high point in the rear, avoiding the rolling shells.

At this moment, Yangguri looked at the Qing soldiers lying all over the ground, his face turning green with rage, and he gnashed his teeth and said: "The mighty Great Qing army, beaten like this by southern barbarians!"

The Qing army had marched a long distance and had not brought cannons with them; the few cannons they had captured from the Ming army had also been transferred by Ajige to the front lines for siege operations. Thus Yangguri's force could only passively absorb the shelling, helpless to do anything about it.

A jala janggin beside Yangguri, watching the tragic battle before them, could not help but say: "Imperial Son-in-law, our warriors' losses are too heavy—order a retreat!"

By now, under several rounds of bombardment from the Yongwei Camp's artillery, the Qing army had already lost over two thousand men, leaving fewer than six thousand. If they kept fighting, the outcome would be uncertain.

Yangguri said with reddened eyes: "No! The Prince of Obedient Submission once said that cannons cannot fire continuously. The moment they stop their bombardment, immediately order all the cavalry of the Bordered White Banner to charge in from both flanks, prioritizing the destruction of their front-line musketeers. Then the infantry follows to sweep forward and completely wipe out this Ming force!"

The Prince of Obedient Submission he spoke of was Kong Youde, the Ming general who had defected during the Denglai Incident. After Hong Taiji proclaimed himself emperor, Kong Youde was enfeoffed as the Prince of Obedient Submission. Kong Youde had taken away most of Sun Yuanhua's firearm troops, and he had particularly deep knowledge of cannons.

Before long, the Yongwei Camp's dozens of cannons indeed stopped firing. The artillerymen immediately cleaned the gunpowder residue from the bores, then covered the cannons with thin cotton quilts soaked in ice water to cool them down, so as to let the barrels cool as quickly as possible.

Seeing the Ming cannons stop, Yangguri immediately ordered all the cavalry of the Bordered White Banner and the Eight Banner Mongols to charge out, racing from both flanks straight toward the Yongwei Camp's musket square formations.

Once they closed to melee range, the Ming cannons would naturally be useless. Moreover, Yangguri planned to completely finish off these several thousand Yongwei Camp troops during the cannons' cooling period—he was full of confidence in the Eight Banners' close-combat prowess.

The cannons' cessation of fire gave the Qing infantry a chance to catch their breath and feel safe again. Upon hearing the assault bugle, they rose one after another and charged forward.

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In the city of Liangxiang, a few li from the battlefield, a large cluster of residential buildings was packed full of Great Ming commoners—tens of thousands of people. These commoners were all people the Qing army had abducted from the Changping area.

In the city there were also great quantities of grain, livestock, silver, and supplies—so much that even the Qing army itself did not know exactly how much they had looted along the way.

Fearing that the abducted commoners might escape or steal these valuables, the Qing soldiers confined them in one place and posted patrols; anyone who left the area would be killed on the spot.

The Qing army selected a group of craftsmen from among the commoners and held them separately, requiring them to repair and manufacture weapons and equipment. Those who refused were killed outright.

The Qing army also selected several thousand young women from among the commoners and concentrated them in one place, where they were responsible for chores like washing clothes and cooking. Every day, many Qing soldiers would also come here to seek pleasure and vent their bestial desires.

The abducted Great Ming commoners lived in miserable conditions—the space was small and crowded, and every day they ate only leftover scraps, with many people not even getting that much.

Thus, every mealtime, fierce fights would break out here. Those who grabbed food would stuff it into their mouths frantically, terrified that someone might snatch it away.

The Qing soldiers patrolling outside laughed loudly as they watched the people fight over food, occasionally muttering some bird-like language, as if they were wagering money on who would get the food.

Here, human life was worth nothing. Every day, people died from fighting over food, while the old, weak, sick, and disabled could not grab any food at all and could only starve to death day by day.

The Qing army had only one niru of three hundred men guarding the city, so they selected some people from among the abducted commoners to serve as their claws and teeth, helping them manage and organize the captive population.

Some people immediately volunteered eagerly, willing to be running dogs. Such people were called traitors to the Han in later ages, and in the Great Ming they were called second-rank Tartars.

Facts proved that second-rank Tartars were often worse than real Tartars. On ordinary days they would bow and scrape to please the Tartars, then turn around and act arrogant and overbearing before their own countrymen, borrowing the Qing army's influence to bully others like a fox using the tiger's might.

At mealtimes, the food had to be picked over by them first, and then distributed to the other commoners according to their mood. Some women who had managed to escape being ravaged by the Qing soldiers would be forcibly raped by them if discovered.

At the gathering point of the abducted commoners, some sharp-eared people heard a series of cannon booms coming from afar, and as they listened carefully, they found more and more cannon fire sounding.

"What is that sound?"

"It's the sound of cannons! Have the government troops come?"

"Those dog officials only harm us—why would they come to save us?"

"If it's not the government troops, who else would fire cannons at the Tartars? It must be the government troops coming to save us!"

"We're saved!"

Countless people grew excited, looking at each other with tears streaming down their faces.

The Tartars and second-rank Tartars guarding the city all rushed to the city walls and looked into the distance. There, on a slope in the distance, they saw a dense mass of Ming troops neatly arrayed, and facing them, countless Eight Banner soldiers were furiously launching an assault.

The Tartars' expressions turned grim. They were all battle-hardened soldiers and could read something of the distant battle—their Eight Banner army seemed to be in serious trouble.

Those second-rank Tartars who ordinarily served as accomplices to evil saw the Tartars' expressions and immediately felt their hearts sink, calculating their escape routes.