Thirty-eight Frankish cannons

As Wei Guangde busied himself packing his belongings, a conversation was underway between the key figures in the Zhang family study not far away.

"Whatever weaponry you need, feel free to ask here. As long as it is in the garrison armory, I can find a way to get it for you." Zhang Qing, the Assistant Regional Commander, sat behind the desk and scanned the few men in the room—all trusted confidants—before addressing Wu Zhankui and Wei Meng.

The request was blunt, prompting Wu and Wei to exchange a glance.

They had privately discussed what equipment they might need during their downtime over the past two days. In truth, in this era, there were few effective weapons against nomadic cavalry from the steppes. Infantry against cavalry was already at a severe disadvantage, and for garrison troops lacking tactical training, the situation was even more dire.

"Father-in-law, when we were in Zhenjiang last time, we saw the 'mother-and-son' cannons used by the Capital Garrison. Is it possible to acquire those? If we could equip them in large numbers, we could maintain a continuous barrage against the enemy, making it easy to repel the Tartar cavalry."

Wei Meng knew it wouldn't be appropriate for him to speak up in this setting; it was better for his brother-in-law to take the lead. Thus, he signaled Wu Zhankui with his eyes to speak. This was a strategy they had spent days deliberating—a way to effectively counter the Tartar horsemen using the artillery they had seen operated by the Capital Garrison. Each cannon came with several breech-loading cartridges, allowing for ammunition to be prepared in advance.

They had observed the Capital Garrison gunners from a distance, watching them extract a cartridge from the rear of the barrel. When they approached, they realized how it worked: the rear half of the barrel was open, exposing the breech in a way completely different from the traditional cannons they were accustomed to. To fire, one simply placed the cartridge into the breech, secured it, and ignited the fuse. The unique feature of this gun was its breech-loading mechanism, unlike the muzzle-loading firearms they were used to.

"You want… you want Frankish cannons?" Upon hearing Wu mention "mother-and-son" cannons, Zhang Qing immediately understood what they were referring to. He had heard of them—they were capable of firing multiple rounds in rapid succession and were indeed a weapon of great strategic importance. However, knowing that his son-in-law and his brother-in-law were asking for such lethal ordnance made him frown; it was clearly a difficult request.

"Father-in-law, are these cannons that hard to come by?" Wu Zhankui asked, sensing the hesitation in his father-in-law's reaction.

Before Zhang could answer, Zhang Shigui, who was standing to the side, spoke up: "The cannons you speak of are called Frankish cannons. They were obtained from the Franks during the Zhengde era, and they are indeed formidable."

Hearing that these weapons came from the foreigners, both Wu and Wei felt their hearts sink. If they had to be bought from the barbarians, the price would be exorbitant, especially for weapons of such power. It was obvious that the Ming army could not afford to equip many of them, and certainly not the Jiujiang Garrison. Any surplus would naturally be prioritized for the Capital Garrison and the border defense forces.

However, Zhang Shigui’s next words offered a glimmer of hope. "The Beijing and Nanjing Armories have long begun to produce imitations of these weapons. The ones you saw the Nanjing Capital Garrison using were likely manufactured by the Nanjing Armory."

"Brother Shigui, then is it possible for us to obtain these cannons?" Wei Meng asked, his excitement growing.

"Alas," Zhang Shigui sighed. "The production volume for those cannons is low. They are prioritized for the border regions and Beijing. In the south, only the Nanjing Capital Garrison and a few coastal garrisons have small numbers for trial use. I inquired about them myself when I visited the Duke’s mansion in Nanjing, and it was simply impossible to secure any."

The hope was extinguished; it was clear that the Frankish cannons were out of reach.

"Besides," Zhang Shigui continued, "I heard at the Duke’s mansion that while the firing speed of the Frankish cannon is high—with each gun paired with five or six breech-loading cartridges that can be pre-loaded—the drawbacks are also significant. Specifically, they have a short range, barely two hundred paces, which is about the same as a heavy bow. The Armory has tried to modify them, but with little success. Even if the Tartar cavalry entered range, they might reach our lines before the gunners could finish firing their cartridges."

Zhang Shigui added, "However, if one were defending from within a city, that would be a different story; you could maintain a continuous barrage against the Tartars."

Despite hearing the flaws, Wei Meng remained unconvinced. He believed that with rapid reloading and sufficient numbers, several rounds of continuous fire would be enough to break the charge of the Tartar cavalry. He understood that it wasn't just Ming soldiers who feared death; anyone facing the prospect of their comrades falling one by one would eventually succumb to terror.

But it seemed impossible now. The cannons were too precious. Even if the Jiajing Emperor truly intended to launch a northern expedition for revenge, such weapons would only be issued to the front-line border troops, not to transport units like theirs. Furthermore, as they had theorized, a small number of cannons would be little more than noise. Their plan had relied on the principle that there is strength in numbers—that a massive concentration of artillery could shatter the enemy charge. While this aligned with the modern concept of concentrated artillery fire, it was useless without the necessary conditions. It was absurd to think the Emperor would equip transport troops with front-line weaponry.

"If it were only a few, I might be able to expend my old reputation to secure them from Nanjing," Zhang Qing said, his clouded eyes fixed on the two men. "But since you are asking for a significant number, it is simply not possible."

"Uncle, is there any definitive news from Duke Xu? Are we, the Jiujiang Garrison, definitely heading north?" Wei Meng asked, pivoting to his most pressing concern.

"The plan set by the Ministry of War dictates that we must escort the grain and supplies from Huguang and Jiangxi directly to the front lines. Our only hope is that the court fails to gather the necessary military funding and troops, which might force His Majesty to cancel this northern expedition."

As he spoke, Zhang Qing’s mood darkened. The risks of going north to fight were immense; otherwise, he wouldn't have been in such a hurry to gather his trusted men to discuss this.

"The Duke and the Duke of Dingguo’s mansion have already sounded out the court, but there is no way around it. It has been personally decreed by the Emperor."

Zhang Qing’s final words sealed their fate. There was no retreat now; they would have to find other ways to improve the combat effectiveness of their troops. There was no other choice.