Forty Matchlocks Versus Cavalry

"Barbarians among the wokou?"

Wu Zhankui asked, somewhat surprised. "Weren't they all said to be Japanese and Han Chinese pirates?"

At that time, ordinary folk lumped all sea-borne bandits and raiders under the single label of wokou, unable to distinguish their true origins. However, for men in the military, intelligence was far more precise. Therefore, whether it was Zhang Qing, Wu Zhankui, or Wei Meng, they were well aware of who the so-called wokou actually were.

In truth, the maritime pirates of the Ming dynasty had originally been formed primarily by the remnant forces of Zhang Shicheng, with only a small number of actual Japanese. Thus, the vast majority of the so-called wokou were actually Han Chinese, with only a minority being Japanese.

Yet today, upon hearing that barbarians had also appeared among the wokou, Wu Zhankui found it somewhat unexpected.

"Barbarians are greedy for wealth and goods. It's hardly surprising that they'd join the wokou to share in the loot. They're all overseas savages anyway, untainted by Confucian education," Zhang Qing remarked dismissively, though his assessment happened to hit close to reality.

"By the way, nephew, if a batch of matchlocks were to be allocated to you, how much of a boost would it give to your hundred-man company's combat effectiveness?"

Zhang Qing directed this question straight to Wei Meng, because throughout the entire Jiujiang Garrison, only the Mountain-Crushing Company had taken away ten matchlocks, a decision made by the Ministry of War even before this batch of firearms was officially issued.

"Uncle, I'm not entirely clear on the matter of these matchlocks myself. Back home, only my two good-for-nothing sons tinker with them when they have the time. From what I hear them say, these matchlocks are indeed quite good. I'd say it should work out," Wei Meng replied after a brief moment of thought.

"I see."

Zhang Qing furrowed his graying eyebrows behind the desk. "Then you two should confer as soon as possible. If it's feasible, I'll have that batch of matchlocks released from the armory after the New Year."

"Father-in-law, how many matchlocks are in that batch?" Wu Zhankui interjected.

"Since it's only a trial issue, there are only two hundred of them. Ten have already been allocated to you, leaving one hundred and ninety matchlocks handed over by the Directorate of Ordnance," Zhang Qing paused to muse for a moment. "Upon their return, they were sent straight into the armory without being distributed. If they truly prove effective, I'll have Shigui go and pull those matchlocks out first in a couple of days, so others don't set their sights on them.

"Additionally, the hundred-man companies under your command must drill diligently after the New Year. Ensure you are thoroughly prepared for every eventuality and do not rely on luck. Even if the northern expedition is ultimately called off, the necessary preparations must still be made. This time, the garrison will reorganize ten hundred-man companies for training, and all provisions and pay will be issued at seventy percent, so you needn't worry about logistics, funds, or grain."

"Seventy percent of the pay and provisions—there shouldn't be any issues with that, right?"

As Zhang Shigui escorted Wu Zhankui and Wei Meng out of the study toward the residential courtyard, he asked the question casually.

Upon hearing this, Wu Zhankui and Wei Meng felt a sudden drop in their chests, and the good mood brought by the earlier mention of seventy percent pay vanished by more than half.

The three men came to a halt. Wu Zhankui looked at Wei Meng; when it came to troop command, he was a thousand-man commander separated by an administrative layer, so he had little to say on the matter.

"For those common soldiers, if they receive thirty or forty percent of their pay, their families can still manage to get by," Wei Meng said after a slight hesitation. In reality, the provisions and pay he actually distributed—when converted into silver—amounted to less than thirty percent of a standard soldier's income, yet the military households in the fortified stronghold still managed to scrape by.

"Very well."

Having obtained his answer, Zhang Shigui resumed walking, leading Wu Zhankui and Wei Meng toward the small courtyard. However, after passing through a corridor, he slowed his pace slightly. Waiting until Wu Zhankui and Wei Meng had drawn closer, he spoke: "Then let's distribute forty percent. The three of us will split the rest."

With that, Zhang Shigui turned to Wu Zhankui. "You'll be in charge of this matter. I'll smooth things over with the garrison, and as for the troop training, I'll leave that to Old Wei."

"Brother-in-law, what is this business about ten hundred-man companies?" Wu Zhankui asked while nodding.

"Those fellows are scared out of their wits at the prospect of heading north again this year. After putting their heads together, they decided that each of the five thousand-man garrisons should train two hundred-man companies to serve as the main combat force for this expedition. Old Wei's company is already set up, and don't you have a trusted company under your command as well? That makes two, which will form the core striking force of your Right Army Thousand-Man Garrison."

Zhang Shigui strolled forward as he spoke. "And about those matchlocks—discuss it among yourselves when you get back. Since Wencai and the others are quite familiar with them, listen closely to their opinions. We'll confer again tomorrow; it's simply too late tonight."

Having escorted them back to their residential courtyard, Zhang Shigui returned to his own quarters.

Nominally a single courtyard, it was actually divided into an eastern and a western compound, styled as two small subsidiary yards. Both the Wu and Wei families had their own private spaces prepared by the Zhang family for relatives and guests. The furnishings and amenities were complete and of good quality.

Neither Wu Zhankui nor Wei Meng retired to their rooms to rest, however. Although they had traveled by boat and cart all the way from Zepeng to Jiujiang since early morning, they still found an empty room, summoned the servants to fetch the brothers Wei Wencai and Wei Guangde, and also called Wu Dong along to listen in—after all, he would sooner or later have to deal with such military matters.

Fortunately, none of them had gone to sleep yet, and they soon arrived at the empty room.

"Put any thoughts of mother-and-child cannons out of your heads. Those cannons are precious; only the Capital Garrison and the frontier towns are equipped with them, and our Jiujiang Garrison can't get our hands on them."

Once everyone was gathered, Wu Zhankui bluntly brought up the matter of the breech-loading cannons they had discussed earlier.

Hearing that they were only equipped by the Capital Garrison and the frontier towns, Wei Guangde and the others understood the situation. When they had previously heard their father mention this type of artillery, the youngsters had all thought it formidable—capable of swapping auxiliary ammunition for continuous fire, far superior to current firearms.

"That cannon is actually called a Fulangji—a Frankish breech-loader invented by barbarians. The number manufactured by our Ming dynasty's northern and southern directorates of ordnance is still limited," Wu Zhankui continued.

"Then why did uncle call us here? Is there some other task?" Wei Guangde wondered inwardly. Since they couldn't get them, they couldn't get them—what was the point of calling them here?

The night before in Zepeng, they had discussed it for hours, and it was only because he recalled his old man mentioning breech-loaders seen in Zhenjiang—saying they fired extremely fast—that he had made the suggestion in the first place.

Now that it had been shot down, he had no other ideas.

"Guangde, tell me, can those matchlocks hold their own against Tatar cavalry?"

At that moment, Old Man Wei posed his question.

"Matchlocks? Not a chance."

Hearing his father address him, Wei Guangde shook his head without a moment's hesitation.

It was a joke—though he had never been a soldier, the information explosion of later generations meant he had seen plenty of things on television and the internet, and he knew a fair amount.

To put an end to cavalry, one needed the invention of the machine gun; only under continuous firepower suppression could a cavalry charge possibly be checked.