Chapter 1252 - The Bombardment of Zhongzuo
The Hall rifle's first volley came at 300 meters.
Because the Marines adhered to the spirit of "economy through revolution," their Hall rifles were simply converted Minié rifles, with no change in caliber. Authentic Hall rifles had a gas-leakage problem, so their muzzle energy and range were inferior to muzzle-loading rifled muskets. Despite the great advantage in rate of fire, they had been replaced by muzzle-loading rifles before the American Civil War due to range issues.
The Lingao-manufactured version had been somewhat improved: the breech tube was changed to a hinged design, with a brass tapered locking device at the junction. When pressed down and pushed forward, it locked into the rear of the barrel. When the propellant charge exploded, the tapered locking device expanded, sealing off the gas leaking from the breech. Therefore, the Lingao Hall rifle achieved a muzzle energy of 250 joules with an effective range of 500 meters—power only slightly reduced from the muzzle-loading Minié rifle, while maintaining rate of fire.
The 13mm lead bullets spun along the rifling and screamed 300 meters downrange, instantly shredding the bamboo bundles. These bamboo bundle shields could effectively stop arrows and smoothbore matchlock balls, but they were utterly useless against Minié balls fired from rifled muskets. As the bullets tore through one bamboo pole after another, the fibers split along their length into countless bamboo splinters, spraying outward like shrapnel from a fragmentation grenade. The soldiers behind the bamboo bundle shields, even if not hit directly by bullets, were pierced all over by these splinter fragments. One after another screamed and collapsed, rolling and wailing on the ground.
The Hall rifle's rate of fire was impressive—an average soldier could fire six rounds per minute, and since the First Expeditionary Force was an experimental unit that spared no ammunition in training, the standard was more than ten rounds per minute. Though Shi Zhiqi deliberately used the double-rank formation with alternating fire to control the rate and conserve ammunition, two companies still poured out 1,500 rounds in a single minute—bullets fell like rain.
One minute of sustained fire felled nearly half of Lin Cha's force. The formation collapsed completely. The front rank's bamboo bundle shields had been shattered to fragments, their bearers dead or wounded—the wounded especially ghastly, almost all victims of secondary splinter injuries. Some were covered from head to toe in wounds, drenched in blood, yet not immediately dying, rolling and screaming on the ground in agony.
The follow-on archers had long since scattered and fled. The rattan-shield swordsmen at the rear, however, were remarkably brave—known for "prizing righteousness over life"—and were Lin Cha's and Lin Sheng's personal "sons and brothers," trained troops. Now their waists were stuffed with silver, their courage at its peak. They didn't immediately collapse under the hail of fire.
The two Lins ran back and forth with their guards, shouting encouragement and promising rewards to urge their men forward. The rattan-shield soldiers kept their heads down, crouching behind their shields, charging forward recklessly—extremely fierce and bold. In another timeline, the rattan-shield troops earned the name "Mad Dogs" from the Dutch in their battles on Taiwan Island for their fearless bravery.
But the Hall rifles' fire density was nothing like the Dutch matchlocks. The rattan-shield troops held out for perhaps thirty seconds. The charging soldiers fell one after another, and shattered shields and sabers littered the ground—not one man managed to advance more than fifty meters.
The surviving soldiers couldn't endure such punishment. Heedless of the promised silver, they broke and fled, throwing down their swords. With the two Lins unable to hold them, they could only retreat with their guards.
"Defeated just like that?!"
The watching Zheng commanders' hearts sank. They hadn't held great expectations for Lin Cha's bamboo bundle shields, but for the barbarians to rout their silver-stuffed seven hundred brothers with barely a dozen volleys—this was absurd.
Worst of all, the enemy's muskets were far more lethal than rumored. At a range of over a hundred zhang, they took lives as easily as reaching into a pocket—not only far and accurate, but "repeating guns"! How could anyone fight that?
Zheng Zhilong's two guard units were equipped with Portuguese matchlocks purchased from Macau—considered first-rate firearms even by European standards—but their range was barely a hundred paces at best. Their rate of fire was pathetically slow—nothing compared to the barbarian rifles.
At this rate, the enemy only needed to advance steadily, firing volley after volley, to wear down his entire force!
Thinking this, he immediately summoned a messenger: "Order General Ma to open fire!"
General Ma was Mateus. At this moment, the Black Guard officer was on the walls of Zhongzuo, directing gunners as they aimed the cannons.
On the hastily constructed gun emplacement atop the gatehouse stood two naval cannons removed from Gang Hai Patrol 64. The Kirishitan Paul had won the Zheng consortium's heart precisely through the action that captured this patrol boat and its two guns. And of course, through several novelties he had brought with him.
Beside the guns were stacked the shells unloaded from the ship. The spherical projectiles looked unremarkable at first glance, but each ball was firmly fixed by iron straps to a wooden sabot, with a silk powder bag tied behind the sabot. The sabots were painted in different colors to distinguish solid shot from explosive shell. Most were solid shot.
At Mateus's command, a dozen-odd Portuguese and Black gunners bustled about. The position was more than three li from the beach where the Marines were advancing. Not long ago, the Kirishitan responsible for dismounting these two guns had demonstrated how to operate them right here.
The Kirishitan had seemed very familiar with the procedure. He demonstrated the firing technique to the gunners and conducted test firings—the range of these two guns could not only cover the beach but could reach out to sea as well.
To Mateus, there was nothing particularly special about these two guns—they were simply cast with exceptional precision. But their ammunition was indeed unique, especially the explosive shells. He had never seen the small copper discs that could be mounted on the projectile bodies. Supposedly, once this device was installed, fired explosive shells had a detonation rate of over ninety percent.
In this timeline, though explosive shells existed, they were mostly fired from mortars. They were seldom fired from cannon—let alone with ninety percent reliability. Contemporary shells had no reliable fuzes, relying entirely on burning fuses for detonation: either they failed to explode after firing, or they burst in the barrel before firing. Thus explosive shells were considered "unreliable" ammunition, with mediocre power—just a few fragments flying. Artillerists preferred the safe, reliable solid shot and canister.
Had the Kirishitan not personally demonstrated the use and repeatedly fired the guns, Mateus would have been highly skeptical of these "explosive shells." But after witnessing the demonstration, he was completely convinced. Not only was the detonation reliable, but the explosive power exceeded any shell he had ever seen—the barbarians were formidable indeed, and this Kirishitan artillerist was hardly inferior.
Mateus had heard rumors about how formidable the "Australians'" cannons were—that they could fire large quantities of immensely powerful explosive shells. It appeared this Kirishitan possessed the same technology, and he had even claimed he could build even more powerful, longer-ranged, more accurate cannons.
Whether the Kirishitan could actually build such guns remained to be seen. But clearly, today the only thing that could show the barbarians what was what were the guns and ammunition they themselves had manufactured.
Through his telescope, he could see the "barbarian" battle line steadily advancing toward the garrison. They were about to enter what the Kirishitan had described as effective range.
The Kirishitan had given them data: at five degrees elevation, these two guns could fire shells to half a league—2,000 meters. And a mere five degrees of elevation meant shooting accuracy far better than other cannon. Combined with workable explosive shells, they could cause significant casualties to infantry on the march.
"The Australians march beautifully!" Mateus watched through his telescope the Marines advancing in precise battle line under their regimental colors. He couldn't help but admire: this formation was the equal of Spanish veterans! He lowered the telescope and gave the order to prepare to fire.
The gunners methodically ranged, aimed, swabbed the bore, and prepared the ammunition. One gunner punched a hole in the copper disc according to range, then screwed it onto the shell. The shell was carefully loaded into the bore. Another gunner pierced the silk powder bag with an iron awl and poured priming powder from a horn into the touch hole.
"Fire!"
A gunner touched a match to the priming powder in the touch hole. The touch hole flashed, then the gun belched a thick gout of flame and white smoke. The heavy cannon recoiled backward, its carriage's four wheels creaking.
The dense smoke and flame from the wall immediately caught Shi Zhiqi's attention. He knew they were still two kilometers from Zhongzuo—no matter who the enemy was, no one would fire at this range.
Seconds later, the boom of the cannon reached them through the air. The first shell fired from Zhongzuo's wall landed on the beach a hundred meters ahead of the line, exploding with a tremendous blast. Sand and iron fragments sprayed in all directions. A palm-sized piece of scalding iron thudded into the sand less than five meters from the battle line, smoking faintly.
"Artillery!" The terrifying thought flashed through Shi Zhiqi's mind. Fear gripped his heart in an instant: the enemy had suddenly opened fire at a range that should have been completely beyond their reach—and with explosive shells!
Before he could gather his wits, the second shell was already screaming in. This one flew over the line's heads and landed on the beach behind them, raising a mixed column of water and sand. A soldier at the very edge of the line grunted, swayed, and fell.
Shi Zhiqi went pale. The thirty seconds between those two shells stretched like a century. He was completely unprepared for being subjected to artillery fire. With difficulty, he squeezed out words from his parched throat: "Maintain formation! Battalion guns, open fire! Target: Zhongzuo Garrison! Suppress enemy artillery—now!"
(End of Chapter)