The Rifle Musket in Civil War Combat: Reality and Myth
Earl J. Hess's The Rifle Musket in Civil War Combat: Reality and Myth is the latest book from a historian whose work on trench warfare has provided some ground-breaking new studies of the fundamentals of Civil War close combat. Is this book, as advertised, "a completely new assessment of the rifle musket, contending that its impact was much more limited than previously supposed?" Well, to be perfectly frank, no, it isn’t. Hess’ core argument that the rifle musket did not live up to either its early promise or the assessment of generations of historians who assumed it was a weapon that fundamentally changed warfare is correct. However, this is hardly a novel theory these days, as a survey of the work of several historians, including myself, who have addressed the subject over the past two decades through extensive primary source research and empirical experiments on the rifle range will reveal. Although I like to think that my own books have made a contribution to this reassessment of conventional knowledge, credit for initiating the re-examination has to go to Paddy Griffith. He posited that he could find no evidence that the rifle musket was used at combat ranges in the Civil War that were significantly greater than those at which smoothbore muskets were fired during the Napoleonic Wars. Brent Nosworthy, who approached the subject exceptionally well- grounded in the tactics and weaponry of the 18th and early 19th centuries, expanded on Griffith’s thesis in his seminal work The Bloody Crucible of Courage. I addressed it initially in Civil War Firearms and went into considerably greater detail in A Revolution in Arms and Small Arms at Gettysburg. The potential of the rifle musket was one thing. Poor training, ballistic ignorance, terrain features and the fog of battle usually determined actual use in quite a different manner. On the publication of Hess’ The Rifle Musket in Civil War Combat: Reality and Myth, I received a number of e-mails from serious students of 19th-century weapons and tactics whose knowledge I respect. Most of this correspondence revolved around technical errors in the work, including the date of the first use of the Prussian Needle Gun in combat, use of the phrase “old flintlock hole” to define “vent hole,” an inaccurate description of the Thouvenin system of loading, as well as the initial Minie ball, the idea that buckshot could “damage” rifling (there was actually a .58 caliber rifle musket buckshot cartridge, although seldom used) and the assertion, based on testimony from unidentified relic hunters, that the Confederacy produced identifiable explosive bullets, among others. While these may seem minor mistakes to the general reader, my correspondents, a savvy lot steeped in 19th-century weapons literature as well as shooting, argued that they were evidence of a lack of the writer’s overall knowledge of not only the rifle musket, but firearms in general. Severe taskmasters of historical arms studies, they maintain, convincingly, that one should have some actual first-hand knowledge with the arms in question before writing about them. There is much to be said for conducting empirical research as a method for sifting through many of the dubious postwar stories spun by Civil War veterans regarding their weapons. The oft-told tale of massive recoil physically pitching soldiers onto their behinds fades quickly when one shoots an original musket with a service load. Did muskets foul, often after a few rounds, making them impossible to reload? Certainly they did on occasion, but usually as a result of loading improper ammunition. Using the proper diameter Minie-style bullets and an original lubricant mix of beeswax and tallow, a modern shooter can easily shoot more than 50 rounds without cleaning his gun. A period test of an Enfield rifle musket conducted at the Tower of London actually resulted in the gun being fired 20,000 times without cleaning There are other misconceptions in the book. For example, George Washington’s light infantry soldiers were not, despite Hess’ inference, invariably riflemen. In fact, during the Philadelphia Campaign, Washington’s riflemen were dispatched north to confront Gen. John Burgoyne’s Canadian invasion; and Gen. “Scotch Willie” Maxwell’s light infantry battalion, formed with “picked men” chosen from the army’s infantry brigades, confronted Gen. William Howe’s advance from Head of Elk. Thus we have a seemingly paradoxical confrontation on the road to Brandywine between rifle-armed German Jaegers and British riflemen of Capt. Patrick Ferguson’s company armed with advanced breech-loading flintlock rifles facing an American force armed with smoothbore muskets. Likewise, at Hubbardton, the only rifles on the field were in the hands of Jaegers on the British side. Hess’ analysis of trajectory, apparently based on a drawing in another work, seems somewhat flawed as well. It appears to rest on the premise of a soldier firing from the kneeling position with his rifle musket sight set at 300 yards, while the point blank sight on the Springfield is actually set for 100 yards. Additionally, the thesis does not take into account the stance of the shooter and the fluid movement of the battlefield, where people then, as now, did not stand at a specific distance to get shot at. There are other factors too complicated to delve into in a brief review. At any rate, by Hess’ own conclusions, with which I do agree, the trajectory argument is moot, as most engagements took place at short range. Civil war soldiers seldom shot at each other at the long range capabilities of their small arms. My estimation of engagement ranges at Gettysburg, using markers and a modern digital range finder, suggests that 200 yards was the usual distance that troops began to shoot at advancing opponents (actually a greater distance than Griffith’s original midwar estimates), and the available primary sources reinforce that conclusion. A “center hold” using the 100-yard sight setting on a man-sized target with a .58 caliber Springfield rifle musket will hit it somewhere at a range up to 200 yards. Even with the above weaknesses, Hess has made an important contribution to the literature of the ongoing reassessment of the role of the rifle musket in the Civil War. The error-free book, including my own, has not been written. Hess duly notes the creation of special skirmishing units, like the Army of Northern Virginia’s sharpshooter battalions detailed in Fred Ray’s excellent study, Shock Troops of the Confederacy, which were actually trained in the use of the rifle musket to its medium- to long-range capabilities, but speculates that more widespread skirmish training would have been useful to the rank and file. He is correct of course, and Gen. Patrick Cleburne did exactly that in his division of the Army of Tennessee. Should you add The Rifle Musket in Civil War Combat: Reality and Myth to the weapons and tactics shelf on your Civil War book case? Certainly. It will prove a valuable addition. Reviewer: Joseph Bilby is an historian and author of works on New Jersey units, outdoor subjects and firearms, most recently, Civil War Firearms, He is a past commander of the 69th New York, N-SSA. |
Illustrated, 288 pp., 2008. University of Kansas Press, 2502 Westbrooke Circle, Lawrence, KS 66045-4444, $29.95 plus shipping.