I was introduced to flintlock and percussion by the curator of a Natural History museum, where I spent hours afterschool, weekends & summers helping out, from about 5th grade until High School, when we moved. In a basement room, with his desk, was a fiber barrel of old guns, waiting to be cycled onto display. He knew the pedigree, care and use of all of them.
On July Fourth, he had a picnic for the volunteers, at his in-laws cottage on a back road hollow in the woods. They had an original bronze cannon mounted out front. (Reviewing the memory, it was probably a mountain howitzer).
Along with cranking the ice cream freezer, a high point was when it was fired at sundown.
m My first was a British flintlock officer's fusel. (That designation may not be strictly accurate; it's what I was told then and have believed since-allowing for faded memory).