Winters can recruit militia, but there is no way to recruit militia around Gevaudan, because the civilians have taken refuge in the city.

Therefore, the Terdun people's trench-digging project was not progressing smoothly. After five days of digging, the front end of the trench was still more than 60 meters away from the city wall, and they did not have time to expand in a direction parallel to the city wall.

Perhaps they wanted to put more pressure on Gévaudan and lure the town of Saint-Quer to attack; or they might simply want to attack Gévaudan.

In any case, the Teltun people abandoned the strategy of using labor without any effort and launched a real attack on the city wall.

Four artillery pieces were lined up in a row, firing solid shells at the shooting tower behind the city wall and the Arrowhead Fort on the city wall.

Many militiamen had never seen artillery fired, and they stuck their heads half out from behind the city wall to watch the excitement.

Mason put his left hand on his knee and sat on the ground with his back against the city wall, listening carefully to the roar of his second-hand daughter.

The four cannons were fired one after another at fixed intervals, which means that the Teltuns knew how to group the cannons for use.

Moreover, the Teltown people were very lucky, and the second shot directly hit the shooting tower without calibrating the shot.

The arrow shield of the shooting tower was broken, and sharp wood chips flew in all directions with the sound of impact. The militiamen who had just been happily watching the cannon fire were frightened and hid behind the wall.

Mason was unmoved. He had already issued an order: no shooters were allowed to go up to the shooting tower before the enemy approached the city wall.

The third cannonball flew over the city wall, and the fourth shell directly hit the city wall. The cannonball penetrated deeply into the wall, and the loose soil on the surface of the city wall slid into the ditch.

"The angle is still not enough to deflect the shells - I didn't expect the Teltowns to have artillery." Mason counted in his mind and ordered the sergeant beside him: "Get up the shooting tower."

"Ah?" The sergeant looked confused, obviously the shelling just now left a big shadow on him.

"The Terton people's artillery is still loading. If you go up and down quickly, they won't be able to hit you." Mason helplessly explained to the sergeant who was on the battlefield for the first time: "I think the cannonball didn't hit the target. You go up and put the cannonball."

Bring it to me."

The sergeant was doubtful and went reluctantly.

Mason patiently counted the seconds to see how often the Tertons could fire.

Rather than accuracy, reloading speed better represents the skill of the gunner - of course, as long as the cannon doesn't blow up.

About six minutes later, there were four more thunders. One round of shooting took six minutes, and the reloading speed was a bit slow.

Regarding the performance of the six-pounder, Mason knew very well: it was normal to fire one round in three or four minutes, and it was not necessarily impossible for a skilled gun crew to fire in one round in two minutes.

In the second round of firing, the Tertons' artillery did not explode.

Another six or seven minutes passed, and four thunders sounded again in sequence, but there was still no explosion.

The city fortifications of Gévaudan were designed to withstand the impact of cavalry. Therefore, the facade of the city wall is relatively steep, and cannonballs can hit it hard.

The Terdun people did not attack randomly. Their twelve shots were always aimed at an arrowhead fort.

After being hit continuously by external forces, a corner of Arrowhead Fort was collapsed, and large pieces of soil collapsed into the trench.

Although the wall is still intact, Turton's artillery crew has proven that they are capable of threatening the city wall.

Mason sighed, took out his handkerchief, and wiped the dust from his face.

The sergeant picked up the cannonball and gave it to Mason as if he was taking credit: "Sir, don't mention how dangerous it was just now..."

Mason took the cannonball, weighed it, and smiled: "Iron cannonball."

The sergeant and the surrounding militiamen didn't know what happened.

"In the wilderness, iron is the same currency as gold and silver. Teltown calls iron 'black money'. The Teltown people are using money to beat us now." Mason patiently explained the secret to the militiamen beside him:

"If it is a stone cannonball, it means that the Telduun people are well prepared. But they are using iron cannonballs now - the Telduun people do not have the ability to cast iron cannonballs. These iron cannonballs should have been abandoned by the expeditionary force in the wilderness.

Use one shot and one shot less."

All the militiamen suddenly realized.

Mason turned over the cannonball to look for any markings such as inscriptions, but found none.

He threw the cannonballs on the ground casually: "I estimate that after a while, the Teltown people will use small stones as shotguns and switch to close-range shooting tactics."

The militiamen nodded in understanding and whispered among themselves.

"Then we can only endure bombardment?" A tall and thin young sergeant asked bravely: "Your Excellency?"

"Of course not." Mason smiled flatly: "We have to teach them a lesson."

How to teach the other party a lesson? Mason has a bold idea - to use concocted cannons.

A third-generation wooden cannon was pushed up the wall, and Mason patted the cannon body gently as if to encourage him.

This is the best-quality third-generation wooden cannon he has on hand, and it can fire solid shells weighing about four pounds.

The third generation wooden cannon is a wrought iron pipe wrapped with leather ropes and iron hoops for pre-tightening, and finally fixed with wood.

In terms of design, its function is to fire shotgun shells, but it is not incapable of shooting solid bullets.

Mason straightened his arms and tied his thumbs. According to his estimate, Teltown's artillery was about a hundred meters away from the city wall - that's why the artillery fire was so accurate and rarely missed.

Four artillery pieces were lined up in a row, and the artillery bunkers were built with thick wooden boards.

If Mason was the attacker, he would not push the artillery to such a close distance. One hundred meters away, he would have already entered the lethal range of the shotgun.

The thick wooden planks could withstand the fire of matchlock guns, and perhaps could withstand the storm of shotguns, but the opponent obviously did not consider the possibility of the defenders using cannons - it was more likely that they deliberately gave the defenders a chance.

Mason spent a long time adjusting the angle, and then came the loading process: gunpowder, wooden pads, cotton wool and linen batting were stuffed into the gun barrel in sequence.

After dispersing the onlookers' militiamen, Mason nodded to indicate to his men that they could put in the artillery shells.

The vicious man with a red birthmark on his face spat twice in his hand, picked up an iron spoon and took out a red-hot cannonball from the stove.

There were several exclamations from the crowd, and the militiamen finally understood why they were not allowed to stand close and watch.

The vaguely flaming four-pound iron bullet was put into the barrel. Mason lit the ignition powder with a long pole and quickly retreated into the distance.

With a "boom" sound, the cannon body shook violently and was pushed away from its original position.

The red fireball shot out of the muzzle and drew a beautiful arc in the air with the expectation of victory.

Then, under the watchful eyes of everyone, it flew over the heads of the Tertun people's artillery crew, landed slowly in the distance, bounced a few times, and finally fell silent - far away.

The huge gap made the militiamen unconsciously lament in disappointment.

Mason was unmoved. He first reset the gun, then adjusted the angle with the plumb line, loaded it again, and fired.

The second shot didn't hit, the shell hit the ground early, bounced a few times and then stopped moving - it was close.

Some militiamen couldn't help but whisper: "Can Mr. Mason do it?"

There are also veterans who confidently testified for the tribunes: "What the hell do you know? When we fought before, Captain Mason missed the first three shots, and the fourth shot hit directly! This is called gunnery! Test firing, you know

?”

Mason was busy adjusting the shooting angle with the plumb line and did not hear the other militiamen's comments. Even if he heard it, it would be difficult for him to explain to the other party.

He did shoot in school.

The first time he fired, he deliberately let the shell fall farther away;

The second time he fired, he instead let the shell fall closer;

Then the correct shooting angle can be calculated based on the impact points and shooting angles of the two shots.

Ballistics is a profound knowledge. Although there are only some empirical formulas that can be used at present, it is by no means something that the infantry and cavalry departments with well-developed limbs and simple-minded muscles can learn - Mason thought with a little pride.

.

Of course, theoretical calculations are one thing, but actual combat requires a little bit of luck...a little bit.

The third shot, which was the shot Mason hoped to take, according to the most accurate preset angle, still missed.

The shell screamed and flew out of the barrel, falling far away.

It's a little different from the calculation. In theory, even if the shot misses, it should land nearby.

Undeterred, Mason continued to make corrections.

The fourth shot, the fifth shot, the sixth shot, none of them hit.

Fine beads of sweat appeared on Mason's forehead. The onlookers' militiamen were already feeling a little bored, and the Telton people became even more numb.

When the defenders launched their first artillery attack, the Terdun people were startled. Qing Lingyu, who was supervising the battle, hurriedly ordered his troops to protect the artillery with thick wooden boards.

After receiving several rounds of shooting, Qing Lingyu, who was supervising the battle, found that the two-legged man's artillery skills were poor, and the shells were flying everywhere with no accuracy. They were not as accurate as his slave gunners.

Qing Lingyu simply ignored the harassment from the two-legged people and concentrated on bombarding Arrowhead Fort.

The defenders fired six artillery shells, but not even a hair on the horse's tail was hit.

During this process, Qing Lingyu's artillery fired three rounds, but most of them hit the wall of Arrowhead Fort.

"It's a problem with the artillery." After the seventh missed shot, Mason wiped the sweat from his forehead and said seriously to the old man with a red birthmark on his face: "These wooden cannons have not been drilled through the bore, the inner tube is too rough, and the shells are

There is no pattern to the trajectory.”

"That's right." The man with the red birthmark nodded expressionlessly - because the birthmark on his face was too scary, he usually had no expression: "The barrel of the gun is very hot, do you want to cool it down first?"

"Bring the oil and let it cool down." Mason looked around and accidentally met the complicated eyes of the militiamen. He couldn't help but sigh: "It's really a problem with the artillery."

"That's right." The man with the red birthmark nodded and left the gun position to get the cooling oil.

Mason took out a roll of papyrus and began to write and calculate again.
To be continued...