Chapter 326: Confidence and Adventure
As reserve forces, the Prussian cavalry, along with Major Hill's cavalry battalion tasked with covering the right-flank artillery, swiftly received orders. They immediately began forming up, preparing to annihilate the audacious French horse artillery that dared to advance to the front lines.
Meanwhile, the French horse artillery battalion had completed its firing preparations. The horses had been driven over a hundred meters away, and the cannons had been adjusted to their firing angles.
The artillery battalion's orderly sprinted across the temporary artillery position, shouting, "Solid shot! Prepare for ranging!"
The gunners skillfully loaded gunpowder into the cannon muzzles, rammed it down, and then inserted the six-pound iron balls.
Company commanders successively reported readiness, and the nearby command flag promptly dropped.
The igniter immediately pulled the lanyard, and the cannon's rear hammer struck the percussion cap with a heavy thud, igniting the powder within the barrel.
Indeed, all the cannons equipped by the Guards Corps horse artillery had been converted to percussion cap firing. In fact, after percussion cap muskets matured, percussion cap firing technology could be easily adapted to cannons. All it required was repeated adjustments to the vent's structural strength and the experimental production of slightly larger, specialized percussion caps. The Royal Armory had largely completed these tasks by the beginning of the year.
With a thundering roar, thick black smoke billowed from the muzzles, and twelve iron balls whistled towards the Southern Netherlands army nearly three hundred meters away.
Under such close-range bombardment, nearly a third of the cannonballs accurately pierced the infantry lines. Their immense impact, sweeping through human bodies, was like striking water-filled balloons, causing flesh and bone to explode with a sickening pop. Gruesome red and black viscera sprayed back seven or eight meters in a fan.
The cannonballs ripped four gaps in the infantry line, then bounced and rolled further after landing. Even then, a mere graze from the black iron balls would instantly shatter a limb.
One cannonball, due to a gunner elevating the firing angle slightly too high, even rolled into the second infantry line behind the Netherlands army, crushing a drummer's calf.
The company commanders of the Guards Corps horse artillery observed the firing effect through their telescopes, quickly instructing their gunners to adjust the firing angles.
After nearly half a minute, the horse artillery battalion commander's order came: "Canister shot!"
For neutralizing infantry, solid shot was merely a nuisance; canister shot was the true nightmare.
However, canister shot had a shorter range, making it difficult to use during artillery duels—it would be utterly suppressed by the enemy's longer-range solid shot. But now, the Guards Corps horse artillery had practically jammed itself into the Netherlands infantry's faces, making canister shot viable.
After the loaders rammed the gunpowder down, the ammunition handlers transferred a cylindrical "tin can" from the ammunition cart, carefully inserted it into the muzzle, and then rammed it down again.
As the firing order was given, the twelve six-pounder cannons again belched thick smoke, but this time, what flew towards the Netherlands infantry lines were not solid iron balls, but spinning cylindrical canisters.
Many films and TV shows depict "grapeshot" as simple scattershot, but in reality, there's a significant difference. Canister shot, while also relying on scattered projectiles for damage, isn't just a heap of small pellets stuffed into a cannon. Instead, a large number of small iron balls are bound together with rope or metal sheeting, often wrapped in multiple layers.
This treatment allows the cannonball to fly much farther due to its collective inertia—compared to simple scattershot—and once it nears the enemy, the fragile outer casing shatters from the impact, scattering the pellets within.
A hellish chorus of terrifying screams immediately erupted from the Southern Netherlands infantry line.
Thanks to the previous ranging, nearly a hundred walnut-sized projectiles swept through the ranks, like a colossal fly swatter, instantly pulverizing forty or fifty soldiers into bloody pulps.
The Netherlands officers frantically shouted, "It's canister shot! Get down! Don't scatter, maintain formation!"
The opposing French infantry line wasn't far. If they were to disperse now to evade the cannons, the Netherlands army might not be able to reform their lines by the time the French charged, so they could only grit their teeth and endure.
"Don't worry, at such close range, our cavalry will quickly deal with those cannons!"
"Once we've dealt with the French cannons, victory will be ours!"
The Netherlands soldiers turned their heads and indeed saw their cavalry had largely completed their formation, instantly boosting their confidence. They began busying themselves filling the gaps left by their fallen comrades.
Yet, less than twenty seconds later, the French horse artillery cannons roared once more.
Again, it was canister shot, flying with an eerie shriek unlike ordinary cannonballs, only to cut short mid-flight—that was the casing tearing apart, launching its contained projectiles.
Another mist of blood erupted, but because the Netherlands soldiers had deliberately crouched down under their officers' command, only a little over thirty were hit. Still, such heavy casualties were enough to trigger panic in the infantry line.
It's worth noting that in this era of smoothbore muskets and muzzle-loading cannons, even a close-range volley between infantry lines would at most cause dozens of casualties.
Few had witnessed such a bloody and tragic scene.
Major Hill could see the brutal spectacle on the Netherlands infantry line with a glance. Turning, he saw his cavalry had mostly formed up and, impatient, he immediately pointed forward with his riding crop, roaring, "Follow me and teach those suicidal French gunners a lesson!"
Immediately, over eight hundred warhorses trotted out—an action that already violated cavalry regulations. Typically, a trot would only commence when approaching within about 450 meters, and a charge was only permitted within 150 meters.
But Major Hill's cavalry battalion was at least over a kilometer away from the French horse artillery at this point. Doing this would severely drain the horses' stamina.
However, Hill couldn't care less at this moment. If those cannons weren't dealt with soon, the Netherlands forces would be blasted into collapse by the canister shot!
Moreover, at such close range, the cannons wouldn't have time to escape. He merely needed to charge in to effortlessly capture over a dozen cannons and their rich spoils. In comparison, the infantry losses earlier were insignificant.
Yet, almost as soon as his cavalry galloped out, the French artillerymen on the foremost battle line began gathering their firing equipment and "all in a fluster," hitched their cannons to the horses.
Seeing this, Hill sneered. These foolish Frenchmen dared to pull their cannons so far forward! Even the most skilled gunners would need at least five minutes or more to hitch the cannons to horses and begin retreating. And to withdraw within the range of their own infantry's fire would take several more minutes.
That amount of time was more than enough for him to cut down all these gunners, spike all the cannons' vents, and then leisurely light a pipe!
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