Small but Deadly: The Minié Ball

By Isaac Shoop ’21

minie ball
Minié balls (via Wikimedia Commons)

When Claude-E’tienne Minié perfected the minié ball in 1849, it is doubtful he knew of the carnage that it would cause in the American Civil War some twelve years later. However, this small and compact bullet can teach us far more than simply the horrific bloodletting it caused on the battlefield itself. A closer analysis of the bullet’s impact on the human body also reveals a deeper glimpse into Civil War hospitals, medicine, and an entirely new scale and scope of death with which Victorian Americans were forced to come to terms as the war’s long casualty lists poured in from both on and off the battlefield. Considered by many to be a significant technological advancement in the 1840s for its supposedly marked increase in range and accuracy, this bullet was initially expected to have a revolutionary impact on battle tactics; however, as recent scholarship has shown, the ball’s impacts were most significantly felt not in the number of men it felled on a battlefield, but in the severity of the wounds it inflicted on its targets.

The minié ball was primarily the invention of two French army captains, Claude-E’tienne Minié and Henri-Gustave Dolvigue, in 1849. To provide ease of use in combat situations, the minié ball was made slightly smaller than the intended gun bore so it could be pushed down the barrel with little resistance. The bullet was made out of soft lead, had a conical shape, and had anywhere from two to four rings at the base. These characteristics allowed the minié ball to expand and engage the rifling of the gun barrel when it was fired, keeping the bullet on a straighter path. Such innovations did help to improve accuracy and slightly increased the range of the rifle musket over that of smoothbores, but the parabolic trajectory of the minie ball, combined with soldiers’ deficient training and both preference as well as skill for short-range firing, ultimately prevented any significant increase in long-range use or accuracy on the battlefield.

In 1855, the United States Army, under the direction of Secretary of War Jefferson Davis, adopted the minié ball and the rifled musket. The effectiveness of the rifled musket and minié ball were proven in the Crimean War in the 1850s when French and British forces used them against Russia’s smoothbore muskets. In the United States, the two most popular rifled muskets were the .69 caliber Harpers Ferry and the .58 caliber Springfield. When the Civil War erupted in the Spring of 1861, both sides still relied on the older and outdated smoothbore muskets because of the time and money it took to produce the new weapons. However, as the war progressed, the new rifled musket and minié ball phased out the smoothbore muskets. In terms of production of this new weaponry, the North had the upper hand. By 1860, about 90% of the United States manufacturing output came from the North. During the war, the North produced 32 times the number of firearms as the South did; for every 100 firearms the South manufactured, the North produced 3,200. In addition to having superior manufacturing capabilities, the North also had the advantage of more efficient transportation. The North housed around 70% of the nation’s railroads, which meant that it could transport weapons and ammunition to the front lines faster than the South could. With superior manufacturing capabilities, the North was able to equip its men on the front lines with this new technology faster and quicker than the South, thus gaining a slight technological advantage over the South.

The evolution and expanded use of the minié ball made many military commanders believe it would be necessary to overhaul military tactics. The range of the rifled musket was 300 yards to a ½ mile, whereas the range of a smoothbore musket was only 50 to 200 yards. In reality, though, both weapons were most effective in the same range of about 100 yards. The rifled musket could not take full advantage of its increased range because of the arc the minié ball travelled on, which created two killing zones. The first killing zone occurred in the first 100 yards and the second from 240 to 350 yards. Soldiers were relatively safe from roughly 100 to 240 yards because the arc of the minié ball, which made the bullet travel over their heads. With intense training, soldiers could accommodate for this arc, but they rarely received that much training and thus they could not take full advantage of the improved range of the rifled musket. Additionally, attacking troops quickly learned how to more efficiently navigate their ways through these two killing zones, thus reducing the number of possible casualties. However, within those killing zones, the impact of the minie ball could be catastrophic, especially to long, thin lines of attacking soldiers. Although successful in numerous Civil War battles such as Gaines’ Mill and Kennesaw Mountain, frontal assaults, if not properly executed and coordinated, could become suicidal in the Civil War, as can be seen through General Burnside’s attack on Marye’s Heights, at the Battle of Fredericksburg, in December 1862, and Pickett’s Charge, at the Battle of Gettysburg, in July 1863. At Fredericksburg, attacking Union forces suffered 12,500 casualties and in Pickett’s Charge alone, Confederate forces suffered over 6,000 casualties.

The improved military technology also led to evolution in the care offered at Civil War hospitals in order to keep up with the thousands of casualties that resulted when the minie ball did indeed hit its target. The soft lead of the minié ball caused the ball to flatten out upon hitting its target, and when the target was a human body, the bullet shattered bones and destroyed tissue in catastrophic ways. The increasingly grisly damage of the minie ball led to the high number of amputations performed at Civil War hospitals. Also, when a minié ball entered the human body, it could carry with it any foreign matter it picked up from the uniform, which meant a greater risk of infection. Although, over the course of the war, doctors developed a greater sense for some of the underlying causes of the rampant diseases that claimed the majority of Civil War soldiers’ lives, gangrenous wounds often spelled a death sentence for many men. Thus, the minié ball was responsible for a majority of combat casualties, with minie ball-induced amputations responsible for 3 out of 4 operations performed at Civil War hospitals.

Although the minié ball did not change military tactics as much as anticipated, it would be hard to argue to soldiers that the ball did not have a tremendous impact on their lives. For the many soldiers who were hit by a minié ball, or who lost comrades to the small scrap of lead, their lives were forever changed. Wounds caused by the bullet were often severe and, in many cases, required amputations, which left Victorian Americans, both civilians and soldiers, with the difficult task of coping with horrific and disfiguring injuries and long casualty lists. When added to the seemingly endless deaths soldiers succumbed to through disease, torturous, minie ball-inflicted fatalities further challenged Victorians’ conceptions of “the Good Death” and their reckoning with the graphic suffering they were forced to endure for four long years on behalf of cause and country. Wounded soldiers also faced the difficult task of integrating back into a post-war society. The minié ball may seem small and insignificant, but it had many far-reaching impacts that extended well beyond the battlefield and that still fascinate scholars and the American public today.


Arrington, Benjamin T. “Industry and Economy during the Civil War.” National Park Service. U.S. Department of the Interior.

Hess, Earl J. The Rifle Musket in Civil War Combat: Reality and Myth. Lawrence, KS:
University Press of Kansas, 2008.

Howey, Allan W. “The Rifle-Musket and the Minié Ball.” HistoryNet. World History Group.
Oct. 1999.

Reimer, Terry. “Wounds, Ammunition, and Amputation.” National Museum of Civil War
Medicine. Nov. 9, 2007.

The Civil War in America: April 1862-November 1862.” Library of Congress.



The Camel Corps Experiment

By Abigail Major ’19

“Did you know there was a push to create a Camel Corps right before the beginning of the American Civil War?” This certainly seems like an interesting piece of trivia to share around the dinner table, but what was the Camel Corps and what insights can it provide on U.S. military thinking in the mid-19th century? I believe that the Camel Corps Experiment, regardless of whether it was deemed an utter failure or not, demonstrated progressive military thought and the desire of its advocates to explore advancements in both mobility and technology for military practices.

Continue reading “The Camel Corps Experiment”

A Radical Idea: Charles Ellet’s Rams

By Savannah Labbe ’19

Photo credit: Special Collections at Musselman Library.

The political cartoon above shows an engineer named Charles Ellet attempting to get a meeting with General George McClellan. Ellet contacted many government officials and important men to try to get his ideas recognized and implemented. Ellet was born in Pennsylvania in 1810 and was inspired to become an engineer when he watched the opening of the Erie Canal. At age 20, he went to Paris to learn his craft, attending lectures for civil engineers and examining bridges, railroads, and other structures. He returned to the United States afterwards and in 1835 went to work as an assistant engineer for the James River and Kanawha Canal Company. This company was working to connect the Virginia tidewater region to the Ohio River. In 1854, his family went on a vacation touring Europe. The Crimean War was going on at that time, and Ellet witnessed two warships collide accidentally, causing immense damage to one of the ships. This was when Ellet’s passion was born. Because of this event, he came up with the idea of building a steam-powered ship to be used specially for ramming. He would promote this idea to anyone who would listen, which is how he came to be knocking on McClellan’s door.

Ellet was fairly well known before the war, as he had done congressional surveys of the Mississippi and Ohio River Valleys and had built the first suspension bridges in the United States. At the beginning of the war, he wrote to President Abraham Lincoln to ask if he could raise a corps of civil engineers to make a survey of the terrain of the border states to help familiarize the army with them. Lincoln approved of the idea, but said it was ultimately up to McClellan, which is why Ellet sent dozens of requests for an interview with McClellan. They were all ignored, which angered Ellet, so he decided to publish a pamphlet criticizing McClellan, saying that he was too busy with parades to actually fight the war and that he never knew where the enemy was or what they were doing. The political cartoon above is about Ellet’s quest to get McClellan to listen to him.

One thing the cartoon portrays very accurately is Ellet’s persistence. In the pamphlet about McClellan’s leadership, he also took the chance to advertise his idea about steam rams, even though it was quite off topic. He sent letters to various members of Congress, the President, and Cabinet members to convince them to buy into his steam ram idea. No one really listened or took him seriously until March 9, 1862 when, for the first time, two ironclads faced off. The contest between the CSS Virginia and the USS Monitor showed Secretary of War Edwin Stanton that something needed to be done to stop the Confederate ironclads. While the Union also had ironclads, it was clear from the battle between the Virginia and the Monitor that ended in a draw that just one ironclad would not be able to defeat another. So, either a fleet of ironclads was needed to go up against one enemy ironclad, which would be expensive and time consuming to create, or a fleet of rams that could accomplish the same goal much quicker and by using less money. And, of course, right after this happened, Ellet sent another pamphlet on his steam rams to Stanton, which led Stanton to invite the eager engineer to his office. Stanton had Ellet go to Hampton Roads and figure out how to stop the Virginia. As it turned out, the Federal commander there, John Wool, had already figured out how to defeat the Virginia, and Ellet was not really needed there. Wool’s idea was much the same as Ellet’s. He commissioned a fleet of fast steamboats that could ram the Virginia. Instead, Stanton sent Ellet to the Mississippi River Valley to convert river steamers into rams.

Ellet left for the valley immediately and began working on his project. He was commissioned as a Colonel and given money to buy the necessary ships and equipment. He was also given the authority to recruit civilians and requisition local military units to help him and serve on his ships when they were completed. He ended up buying seven steamers. He reinforced the ships with extra timber but only put iron on the front of them to reinforce the ramming prow. He wanted the ship to be as lightweight as possible, so it could move fast enough to damage an enemy ship before the enemy could get too many shots off. He put no cannons on the ships, in the interest of keeping it light but also because he felt that naval cannons were useless and fast becoming obsolete because of iron plating and the fact that ships could now move much faster while it still took the cannons a long time to get off a shot. So, Ellet believed the future of naval warfare was in ramming.  In many ways he was right at the time, as the cannons took a long time to load and were not very accurate. However, future improvements in naval armament technology, such as rifled breech-loading cannons, proved Ellet’s prediction to be false.

Ellet’s steamers would see their first action on June 6, 1862. Five Federal ironclads were anchored in the Mississippi near Memphis, and some Confederate “cottonclad” ships, which were reinforced with extra timber, iron rails, and lined with cotton to protect from enemy fire, had spotted them and moved to engage them. As the first shot was fired at the First Battle of Memphis, Ellet and his steamers arrived. Ellet used his rams to disable a few of the Confederate ships and helped win the battle for the Union. When used correctly, rams would move fast against an enemy ship, hit it hard and do a lot of damage and then retreat into safety. Of course, sometimes the rams would get stuck or be equally damaged by the blow. However, this did not happen to Ellet.  Ellet’s son, who had been an assistant surgeon in the Union Army before the war and quickly transferred to his father’s unit when it was created,  then went into the city of Memphis, took down the Confederate flag and raised the stars and stripes. This was one of the first steps in an important campaign to take control of the Mississippi River and divide the Confederacy in two. Unfortunately for Ellet, this would be the only time he would see his steamers at work. During the battle, he went out to inspect the front of the ram that he was on, exposing himself to the enemy. He was shot just below the knee, and while this was not a grave injury, it was complicated by the fact that he had both dysentery and measles, which prevented him from recovering adequately. He died on June 21, 1862 and was later buried with full military honors.


While Ellet’s persistence is satirized in the cartoon, it was an important aspect of his character that helped him get his idea recognized. His persistence was much like that of Christopher Spencer, who worked tirelessly to get the Union to use Spencer repeating rifles. The persistence of these men was a good thing for the Union, because without it, the Union would have completely missed out on technology that could have helped win the war. Ironclads were a new technology introduced in the Civil War, and the Union Navy had to find a way to neutralize them. Ellet’s method was fit for the technology of the time. Ships could not really get off many shots before a ram could get close enough to disable them. The Mississippi River campaign was very important to the Union war effort, and Ellet helped that campaign succeed. Ellet’s story also serves as a greater lesson, which is that it is important to be open to new ideas and technologies, especially in times of war. These technologies can be decisive, and while they may seem unnecessary or too radical at the time, it is better to give them a chance than to dismiss them without even hearing them out.


Coley, Jeannette Cabell. “Charles Ellet Jr.’s Unique Fleet of Rams Helped the Union Gain Control of the Mississippi River.” America’s Civil War 16, no. 4 (September 2003): 16. Accessed April 1, 2018.

Milligan, John D. “Charles Ellet and His Naval Steam Ram.” no. 2 (2013): 121. Accessed April 1, 2018.

Stephens, H.L. December 28, 1861. GettDigital: Civil War Era Collection, Special Collections and College Archives, Gettysburg College, Gettysburg, Pennsylvania. Accessed April 1, 2018.

Inspirations of War: Innovations in Prosthetics after the Civil War

By Savannah Labbe ’19

In early 1861, a Confederate soldier named James Edward Hanger waited on the ground to die. Minutes before, his left leg had been shot off above the knee while he was sitting with his comrades in the loft of a barn in Philipi, Virginia. As soon as the cannonball burst through the barn, the rest of the men fled, leaving Hanger behind. He was found by enemy troops and brought to a doctor, who amputated his leg. Hanger became the first person to have a limb amputated during the Civil War. When one thinks of Civil War injuries, amputations often come to mind, and, to be sure, there was an unprecedented number of amputations performed during the Civil War. Surgeons on both sides performed at least 60,000 amputations during the war and 45,000 patients survived the surgery.

Soldier with an amputated arm. Photo via Wikimedia Commons.

This increasing number of amputees presented a new problem. Before the Civil War, peg legs and other prosthetics were not very common, but now there was a new demand for this kind of product. James Hanger, who had been sent to Camp Chase until he was exchanged two months later and sent home to Churchville, Virginia, was so frustrated with his peg leg that he stayed in his room for months, trying to build a better one. He was aided in this endeavor by his engineering education from Washington College in Lexington, Virginia, which he attended for two years until he dropped out to join the Churchville Calvary at the start of the Civil War. When he emerged from his room at Camp Chase, he had created a comfortable leg that had a foot and hinged at both the ankle and knee. He wanted to share his creation with other veterans, so he set up Hanger Inc., which is still one of the largest prosthetic manufacturers today.

Many others took up the call to create prosthetic limbs, and the industry blossomed after the war, especially as the government paid for Union veterans to buy replacement limbs. Since Confederates had rebelled against the government and were not considered to be veterans, they were not eligible for this program, although some states such as North Carolina and Virginia set up programs similar to the federal one. By 1870, the federal government had paid $500,000 for 7,000 veterans’ limbs. Of course, some probably did not actually get a limb since the federal government just gave the stipends to the soldiers and allowed them to spend it how they pleased. However, most of them likely did buy a limb in order to walk better or to feel normal and whole again. In addition, ideas of manhood and masculinity during this time period stressed self-sufficiency, and especially for veterans who had lost a leg, amputations made it much easier for them to walk around and fulfill a normal masculine role. However, many veterans did view their amputated limbs with pride, as they served as an outward mark of their bravery and sacrifice for their country.

The Civil War created a change in government policy regarding veterans. In the Revolutionary War, Congress struggled to pay the Continental Army, both during and after the war, and many veterans did not get nearly as much payment as they were promised. In addition, pensions for Revolutionary War veterans were rejected by the public because they believed it would diminish the patriotic nature of veterans’ service. The Civil War was the first time that the government really showed much concern for its veterans. The most vocal advocates for government recompense for veterans were the limb manufacturing companies themselves. Their campaign was so successful that they got the federal government to pay for research grants for innovations in prosthetics as well as limbs for any Union veteran that needed one. Civil War soldiers not only received limbs but also pensions and government hospital care, after much lobbying by the Grand Army of the Republic (GAR). The GAR was a political organization, which allowed it to accomplish so much in a way that veterans of the Revolutionary War could not, due to public fear that a strong military establishment would form an upper, aristocratic class and could possible use force to radically change the government or impose their will on the people. The Civil War was when the government, at the behest of groups like the GAR, began to assume responsibility for their veterans and felt like they had a debt to repay them.

Many parallels can be drawn between the Civil War and the present. Since 2003, soldiers in Iraq and Afghanistan have been losing limbs at twice the rate of previous wars, including the Civil War. Like in the Civil War, this has provoked innovation in the field of prosthetics. In the Civil War it was all about making the limb comfortable, but now the focus is on making the limb just like the one that was lost, making it realistic and able to move around and even grab things, in the case of prosthetic hands. Computer chips and wireless technology are being utilized to make “robot hands” that are mobile and able to pinch, grip, and flex. There have even been some limbs made with sensors that are able to pick up small signals from the brain and move  in response. This research is again being funded by government grants in order to meet the need of veterans, just like in the Civil War.

Throughout history, conflict has been the driving force for change, with war being the ultimate conflict. While war causes immense suffering, it also has the ability to create, to inspire. As the author Stephen Cushman puts it, war can be a “belligerent muse.” Not only does it provoke innovations in science and technology like prosthetics, it inspires works of literature and art. War creates specific needs, and those needs are often met by advancements in science. It can be the driving force of not only inherently harmful technology, such as the atomic bomb, but it can also be used to help. War also has the ability to transform, as one can see in the example of the change in the relationship between the government and veterans. The Civil War really established a precedent for repaying the debt owed to veterans who sacrificed so much to preserve the ideals that the republic was founded upon.


Brink, Tracy Vonder. “The Man Who Built a Better Leg.” Cricket 44, no. 9 (July 2017): 21. Accessed February 10, 2018.

Clarke, Frances M. War Stories: Suffering and Sacrifice in the Civil War North. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2011.

Cushman, Stephen. Belligerent Muse. Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 2014.

Daloz, Kate. “A Call to Arms (And Legs) in the Civil War and the Iraq War.” Huffington Post, n.d. Accessed February 11, 2018.

Gannon, Barbara A. “A Debt We Never Can Pay, A Debt We Refuse to Repay: Civil War Veterans in American Memory.” South Central Review 33, no. 1 (Spring2016 2016): 69. Accessed March 3, 2018.

Herschbach, Lisa. “Prosthetic Reconstructions: Making the Industry, Re-Making the Body, Modelling the Nation.” History Workshop Journal, no. 44 (1997): 22-57.

Science, Signals, and Service: The Smithsonian Institution’s Role During the Civil War

By Danielle Jones ’18

Today, the Smithsonian is known for its world-famous exhibits, massive collections of American and natural history artifacts, and its contributions to research around the world. But many people don’t know the role the Smithsonian played during the Civil War. The Smithsonian Castle was finished in 1855 and would become the first home of the research center, the library, and the US Museum. The government recognized the importance of the Institution and, after war was declared, the US Secretary of War ordered Joseph Henry, the Smithsonian Secretary, be issued twelve muskets and 240 rounds of ammunition “for the protection of the Institute against lawless attacks.” The building was in a vulnerable position because it was situated in between the Capitol Building and the White House, and cut off from the rest of the city by the Washington Canal . The Institution was witness to soldiers on parade, as well as to the thousands of wounded soldiers sent back to the city after the First Battle of Bull Run. It suffered no war damage, but suffered from financial woes because Congress was more focused on paying for the war than paying the interest on the Smithson bequest. The inflation and currency devaluation of the era also affected finances.

Image of the Smithsonian Castle in Washington DC, with the unfinished Capital Building in the Background. The hand-written caption, “Washington, D.C. April 1865” is incorrect because the castle was terribly damaged in a fire in January of 1865. Image courtesy of Smithsonian Institution Archives.

Continue reading “Science, Signals, and Service: The Smithsonian Institution’s Role During the Civil War”

Securing the High Ground: The Civil War Roots of Aerial Reconnaissance

By Kaylyn Sawyer ’17

In this era of rapidly advancing technology, debate about aerial surveillance abounds. In March of this year, the Pentagon released its 2015 Inspector General report entitled “Evaluation of DoD’s Use of Unmanned Aircraft Systems (UAS) for Support to Civil Authorities,” which revealed that the Pentagon had flown spy drones over the U.S. for non-military purposes.  Historically, the drone had been used primarily by the military in war zones, but with increased availability and applicability here at home, UAS use has expanded to include public agencies, commercial entities, and private citizens. Surveillance by air, however, is not a new concept. The strategy dates back to the French Revolution during which the French Army formed balloon companies to observe the enemy. Nearly 70 years later, during the Civil War, both Union and Confederate armies would experiment with tactical air power through the use of balloons for battlefield reconnaissance. The experiment found little support or practical utility, but the efforts of balloonists John La Mountain and Thaddeus Lowe were pioneering and spurred further innovations.

Lowe observing the battlefield from his balloon "Intrepid." Photo via the Library of Congress.
Lowe observing the battlefield from his balloon “Intrepid.” Photo via the Library of Congress.

Union General Benjamin Butler, commander at Fort Monroe, contacted ballooning pioneer John La Mountain on June 5, 1861 to discuss wartime use of balloons for determining the enemy’s position and strength.  La Mountain arrived in the Tidewater region of Virginia and made several ascents in his balloon, providing aerial reconnaissance of Confederate forces at Sewell’s Point, Norfolk, and Yorktown. His ascent on August 3, 1861 would be historic. On this date, he secured his balloon to the gunboat Fanny which then steamed out into the waters opposite Sewell’s Point. From an altitude of 2000 feet he observed Confederate positions. For a brief moment, the Fanny was an aircraft carrier, arguably the first in the United States and the predecessor to the imposing carriers ported today at Sewell’s Point, site of the current Naval Station Norfolk. La Mountain would make one more ascent from the deck of a ship in August 1861, after which he provided General Butler with a report and rough diagram of his observations.  He offered a proposal to Butler for continued aerial surveillance operations by balloon, which was forwarded to the War Department. No action was taken. Continue reading “Securing the High Ground: The Civil War Roots of Aerial Reconnaissance”

Jelly Beans, Sporks, Cowboy Hats, Oh My!: Patents and Inventions from the 1860s and 1870s

By Alex Andrioli ’18

What do jelly beans, printing presses, sporks, and cowboy hats have in common?

I know it kind of sounds like a joke, but I’m serious! The similarity among the four is that they were all invented or patented during the Civil War and Reconstruction eras. It is easy to forget that life went on while the United States was swept up in a horrific war, but  weapons were not the only things produced in the 1860s and 1870s.

In 1861, you might have seen advertisements from a Mr. William Schrafft, a Boston candy maker, who advised people to send his jelly beans to Union soldiers. You could send your Billy Yank some delicious jelly beans on the front because there was no better cure for dysentery than the sweet taste of candy from home. Though jelly beans surfaced in America in 1861, their origin is shrouded in a sugar-coated mystery. It is popularly believed that the jelly bean is the result of the tasty union between the centuries old Turkish Delight, a Middle Eastern treat made of soft jelly and confectioner’s powder, and the Jordan Almond, an almond covered in a hard, candy coating.

Where could you read this advertisement for Schrafft’s jelly beans, you might ask? A newspaper would be the most likely place, especially if you do not live in or near Boston. You could pick up a copy of your local newspaper to find an advertisement for Mr. Schrafft’s jelly beans, but then you start to wonder, “Where did this newspaper come from?” How was it printed, and how can there be so many similar papers like it? It seems like everyone has the same exact copy as you on this fine morning.

Though it’s not William Schrafft’s advertisement, this is an advertisement for Charles Copeland’s Confectionery in Boston, Massachusetts. This ad was in a guidebook for Boston in 1867 and could be similar to an ad that Schrafft might have put out for his jelly beans. Photo courtesy of Wikimedia Commons.
Though it’s not William Schrafft’s advertisement, this is an advertisement for Charles Copeland’s Confectionery in Boston, Massachusetts. This ad was in a guidebook for Boston in 1867 and could be similar to an ad that Schrafft might have put out for his jelly beans. Photo courtesy of Wikimedia Commons.

Continue reading “Jelly Beans, Sporks, Cowboy Hats, Oh My!: Patents and Inventions from the 1860s and 1870s”

A Prussian Observes the American Civil War

By Ryan Nadeau ’16

This post is the second part in a series on Captain Justus Scheibert and international observation of the American Civil War. Read Part 1 of the series here.

“Helmuth Karl Bernhard von Moltke.” Wikimedia Commons.

Helmuth von Moltke, the elder of the two notable Generals von Moltke and who made his fame in the Franco-Prussian War of 1870-1871, is noted for allegedly describing the American Civil War as nothing but “two armed-mobs” running around the countryside and beating each other up, from which very little of military utility could be learned. While a proper source for this quotation cannot be pinned down, and it may never have even been uttered at all, it serves as a rather succinct description of how Prussians would ultimately view the military legacy of the Civil War. In his official observations for the Prussian military commander, Captain Justus Scheibert makes an effort to impart what he viewed as the importance of the conflict to military thought and tactics, though he often focuses his writings on the ways in which American warfare was inferior to Prussian methods.

On a grand tactical scale, Scheibert divides the progression of the war into three phases. He characterizes the first phase of the opening days of the war as being disorderly and confused, defined by haphazard skirmishes lead by men who had not yet truly come to grips with warfare (a rather von Moltke-esque description). The second stage, from roughly 1862 to Gettysburg in 1863, represented a maturation of tactics, with special emphasis now being placed on learned battle formations such as the offensive column, giving a sort of linear character to the fighting. The third phase, from Gettysburg to the end of the war, was one focused upon defensive, at least from the Confederate point of view that Scheibert takes. Grand retreats and movements were a thing of the past as advances were, as Scheibert observes, now made inch by inch as each army fortified and refortified across the landscape. Continue reading “A Prussian Observes the American Civil War”