Chapter 294: Who is Helping Hale?
The Tokugawa Shogunate’s isolationist policy had cut off the supply of sulfur from Japan, leaving Manila to depend on the small supply from Northern Taiwan. However, the business of purchasing processed sulfur from the local aboriginals in Tamsui had always been handled by Chinese merchants, which the Spanish considered economically disadvantageous. Furthermore, ever since the Australians established a trading post in the southern part of Taiwan, they had also begun to purchase sulfur in large quantities. The Chinese merchants were quickly drawn to Kaohsiung, which had a much better reputation for fair trade and could offer a wider variety of goods. This caused the Spanish procurement situation to deteriorate daily.
Although Governor Salamanca had already sent a messenger ordering the colonial troops stationed in Keelung and Tamsui to seize the sulfur production areas by force and control the sulfur trade, for which he had sent reinforcements and a large quantity of new firearms and ammunition, it was a distant solution to an immediate problem. Hale could only try to open up new sources and economize. The former involved attempting to produce sulfur by roasting pyrite with charcoal. As for economizing, besides the finely ground No. 1 black powder used for firearm priming and detonator trains, all other black powder would use a sulfur-free formula of eight parts saltpeter to two parts charcoal.
“Allocate the entire stock of No. 1 powder for filling fuzes and cannon primers. We must guarantee the supply for the artillery. You’ve already heard what I said to His Excellency the Marquis,” Hale continued, instructing his sailor-assistant. “Until the new mixing cylinders are installed and operational, suspend the supply of gunpowder for firearms.”
“But so many rifles have already been made. The Spanish will…”
“Marcos, you need to continue to strengthen your professional knowledge. First, by my standards, those are just smoothbores, not rifles. Second, we didn’t ‘make’ them. We merely modified old matchlocks that the Spanish dug out of their armories, changing the firing mechanism and re-boring the barrels.”
“Captain Pilar has been pestering me to design a new cavalry pistol for him. But those are all insignificant little toys, incapable of becoming the deciding factor that changes the course of a war. Compared to cannons, they are nothing. The cannon is the true god of war.”
Leaving the gunpowder production workshop, Marcos tried to persuade his benefactor to inspect the starch factory again.
“I went yesterday,” Hale said dismissively. “I see no need to go again today.”
“Those Chinese workers either have no idea what they’re doing, or they’re deliberately stealing raw materials. I think the former is more likely. They’ve wasted our entire stock of corn, producing heaps of garbage only fit for fertilizer, and in the end, they’ve only made a tiny bit of starch, not even enough to feed a mouse. Now they’re starting on our sweet potatoes…”
“Enough. I know those Hoklo fellows used to make kudzu powder. What, never heard of it? Marcos, you’re a poor soul who’s never even eaten Japanese sweets. My point is, their old trade included using sweet potatoes to make starch to pass off as kudzu powder. The job I’ve given them is their specialty. Of course, with my guidance and your supervision. And I have some good news for you,” Hale said with a mysterious smile. “I’ve found a new source, from a place you would absolutely never expect. Ready-made, high-quality starch, enough for me to make explosives to level an entire city.”
“Yes, sir,” Marcos swallowed. Coming from the 21st century, he felt no mystery about what this Japanese man was doing, but the burning fanaticism in the man often frightened him.
“Also, your fiancée inquired yesterday about when you might go to see her,” Marcos hesitated. “I feel she misses you very much…” He took out a letter wrapped in a Chinese silk handkerchief. “She asked me to give this to you.”
“I don’t have time.” Hale frowned, not taking the handkerchief-wrapped package. His hands were black with grime.
“But, sir…”
Hale knew what his assistant wanted to say: a “fiancée” could not be neglected.
This was the noble illegitimate daughter the Spanish intended to place in his bed. He had no need for her, spiritually or physically, but the “fiancée” was of high birth. She not only symbolized his acceptance by the Spanish gentry of the Philippines, a sign he was considered “one of them,” but also represented the approval of the nobility from New Spain and even the Peninsula. To be too dismissive would indeed be inappropriate.
“Alright, my dear Marcos. In any time and space, women are always sentimental. We have things to do. Why does she want to see me? Does she expect me to play the mandolin for her under her boudoir window? I don’t have time for that.” He thought for a moment. “Come to my office tomorrow morning. I will have a reply letter ready.”
“Very well, sir. I suggest you also prepare a small gift.”
“Marcos, you are absolutely right. You must have Spanish blood in your veins.”
“At your service!”
“Let’s not talk about women. Are the arrangements I told you to make ready?”
“They are all ready.”
“Are you sure no one knows?”
“I guarantee it. I went personally with your students and servants. They are the most reliable.”
Hale’s “students and servants” were a group he had personally selected and trained. There were Japanese, Chinese, local natives, and people of mixed race. They formed Hale’s inner circle.
Hale nodded. The Spanish dignitaries in the Philippines had a pathological sense of crisis, constantly feeling that the Chinese, Dutch, and English were trying to seize their colony. The person he was to meet tomorrow was no longer as prestigious as before, but if the Spanish found out he had secretly come to Manila, it would undoubtedly arouse endless suspicion, and their cooperation would be completely ruined.
“It seems we’ve underestimated this Japanese kid. To be able to pull together a group of people single-handedly and stir up such a commotion in the Philippines while we weren’t paying attention.”
In the External Intelligence Bureau’s secure conference room, modeled after the Political Security General Bureau’s style, the windows were high up near the ceiling and were all tightly shut. The temperature in the room was sweltering, but the representatives from various departments attending the joint meeting silently flipped through their folders, reading the recent intelligence summaries on Manila. Even when someone made a comment or a joke, it quickly died down for lack of response, and the atmosphere in the room felt like it was approaching freezing point.
“This material can’t be trusted,” Wang Ruixiang snapped his folder shut and tossed it onto the table in front of him. “For one thing, the numbers don’t add up. The so-called factory’s monthly output of products, the monthly production figures for shells, fuzes, and gunpowder—several different figures have appeared, and no two are the same.”
“Correct, because the numbers each have their own source. Some are what Hale verbally reported to Spanish officials, some come from the colonial government’s records of receiving and allocating munitions, and some are estimated based on reports of raw material consumption by the Manila factory. The notes after the report list them all out. Their accuracy is worth discussing, but you can’t just dismiss them all,” said Jiang Shan. His life spent in an office had made his face gaunt and his eyes sunken, which only made his gaze seem sharper and more aggressive. “Comparing these numbers, it’s clear that Hale’s boasted production figures to the Spanish are greatly inflated. But even after squeezing out the water, by 17th-century standards, the output of this semi-mechanized arsenal already surpasses those handicraft workshops in Europe. We must take it seriously. After all, the Philippines is much closer to us than Europe is.”
“Production isn’t the most important issue,” someone else offered. “If all Hale is making for the Spanish are solid spherical cannonballs, it wouldn’t matter if he produced several thousand a month. But since this kid can rifle smoothbore cannons, make explosive shells with contact fuzes, and has even built a submarine—in short, he has brought a qualitative leap to the armaments of the white skins—then it’s a completely different matter.”
“A leap? At best, he’s just jumped a couple of times,” Wang Ruixiang scoffed. “I don’t believe this kid can create any kind of modern weaponry and ammunition from scratch. He doesn’t even have the necessary instruments. It’s impossible. Without conical and angle gauges, how can he machine qualified conical projectiles? Without thermometers and hygrometers to measure and control temperature and humidity, how can he synthesize mercury fulminate? Isn’t he afraid of blowing himself up?”
“He has all of those. Or rather, Hale can get them all.”
“Get them from where? Who would provide him with precision instruments?”
“The Spanish, or let’s say, the Europeans. And, of course, us.” Wu Mu’s tone was calm, yet it immediately drew the gazes of everyone present, gazes filled with curiosity, astonishment, and perhaps a trace of fear.
Wu Mu was clearly prepared. He calmly pulled a few sheets of paper from his file. “The Political Security General Bureau and the Navy recently worked together to uncover a criminal gang hidden within the Southeast Asia Company, targeting the property of the Senate. According to the initial interrogations, the organizers of the gang are all former members of the Zheng Cai pirate gang who later surrendered to us, and several naturalized citizen cadres are also involved. At first, we thought the gang’s main crime was the theft and sale of South Seas-style rifles, pistols, typewriters, and percussion caps and ammunition allocated for the self-defense of merchant ships. Later, we discovered that various instruments and tools were also their targets, including magnetic compasses, thermometers, hygrometers, barometers, sextants, nautical slide rules, and drafting tools. They didn’t even spare screwdrivers. These stolen goods were generally written off from the equipment registers under the pretext of being damaged or lost in storms or pirate attacks, or stolen by locals in port. The buyers of the weapons included pirates and officials of some Southeast Asian dynasties. As for the instruments, the interested customers were basically European merchants and ship captains.”
“Coincidentally, records show that during two separate stops in Manila, the Southeast Asia Company’s ships, the Meifu, Lishun, and Tunan, were all unfortunately visited by thieves, and all lost navigational instruments. Is this merely a coincidence?”