War clouds had been gathering in the United States for decades, when on December 26, 1860, Major Robert Anderson of the 1st U.S. Field Artillery, informed his superiors in Washington, D.C. that he had decided to withdraw the garrison of Fort Moultrie, South Carolina under the cover of darkness. Anderson and approximately seventy men relocated to nearby Fort Sumter, just a mile away in Charleston harbor. Civilian representatives from South Carolina told federal officials that they viewed this as a hostile act.
The Major’s superior, Virginia-born Secretary of War John B. Floyd, soon sent an angry telegram to his subordinate: “Intelligence has reached here this morning that you have abandoned Fort Moultrie, spiked your guns, burned the carriages, and gone to Fort Sumter…. Explain the meaning of this report.”
Simply out, the long simmering caldron of sectional differences between the North and South was about to boil over. On April 10, 1861, Anderson received an ultimatum to vacate Sumter, which by that point had been surrounded by South Carolinian earthen gun emplacements. Two days later, at 4:30 am, an opening salvo from a 10-inch mortar struck the parade ground of Fort Sumter. The American Civil War had begun.
The five sided Fort Sumter did not respond for three hours. Even then, only twenty-one of its cannon were in a position to answer the enemy, these being protected to a certain degree by their placement in the second tier of the fort’s casemates. The twenty seven guns atop the fort on the rampart en barbette, however, were too exposed to be safely manned. This fact, the small size of the Union garrison (just eighty-five officers, non-commissioned officers, and men), and a limited supply of ammunition, meant only a half-dozen pieces fought back against the Confederate positions. In addition, expected reinforcements did not arrive.
The next day, the situation worsened. Rebel artillerymen poured hot shot (heated rounds intended to set fire to buildings, ships, and the like) into the besieged fortress. These incendiaries ignited wooded structures, which began to blaze fiercely. Finally, the defenders were forced to surrender. Anderson and his command evacuated the battered bastion at noon on April 14th, after some 4,000 enemy rounds had pummeled Sumter over a 34-hour period.
The intensity of the shelling demonstrated the firepower and hence the devastation that Yankee and Rebel gunners would wield over the nest four years. In fact, soon after the outbreak of hostilities, the Regular Army expanded with the addition of the 5th U.S. Field Artillery Regiment, which joined the other four existing regiments.
Regardless of the regiment, the backbone of the Union field artillery was the 12-pounder smoothbore howitzer, commonly referred to as the “Napoleon.” Of lesser importance, although a significant technological achievement of the time, was the 3-inch rifled ordnance gun. Both of these pieces were muzzle-loaders, as were the other standard field artillery guns of the time: the 6 and 12-pounder guns; the mobile 12-pounder mountain howitzer; the 12, 24, and 32-pound howitzers; and the 10 and 20-pound Parrott rifles. The Parrots and ordnance rifles were iron or steel and rifled; the remaining weapons were all bronze smoothbores. Taken together, these ten basic types supposedly fired 90% of the battlefield rounds of the war.
If this figure rings true, the other 10% would have been from several “non-standard” guns, ranging from the 12 and 24-pound cast bronze James, to the 6 and 12-pound coast-steel Wiard. There also were 6 and 12-pound Whitworths, and a muzzle-loading 12-pound model of the same make. Two versions of 3-inch Armstrongs were also on hand, once again as muzzle-loader and breech-loader models. Other options were the 12-pound Wakley, the 3.67 Small Sawyer, and Coehorn mortars, the brass 24-pounder, which weighted 296 pounds if mounted on an oak bed. There were even a few multiple-fire weapons, such as the Gatling gun, in the inventory, but these were really of little consequence.
The light, horse, and field artillerymen drew on a wide range of ordnance, yet their maximum effective range was about the same for most weapons, smoothbores reaching around 1,500 yards and rifles about 2,500 yards, all depending on the type of round fired. These included solid shot, canister, grape, shell, chain, and bar shot.
The heavy artillerymen, who defended the forts of conducted sieges, manned 8 and 10-inch barrette-mounted seacoast howitzers, as well as 8, 10, and 12-inch Columbiads. There were also 32 and 42-pound seacoast guns; and a variety of Armstrong, Blakely, Dahlgren, Parrott, Rodman, and Whitworth models, too. Such pieces might send a 45 or 90-pound projectile some 2,000 yards. One of the huge Parrotts, and 8-incher weighing in at 16,300 pounds, was even given a name – “The Swamp Angel” – because it was transported over marshlands by Union forces to hurl 175-pound shells into Charleston, South Carolina. In addition, 13-inch mortars were available. Among these was “The Dictator,” which at Petersburg, Virginia sent its projectiles for more than a mile to land in the besieged Rebel city. Although not mobile like the field guns, such payloads rained devastation in the hands of properly trained and experienced crews.
Indeed, many a Confederate fell to death dealing Union “redlegs” during the course of the war. After that bloody conflict ended, some military leaders began to consider the terrible lessons that were to be learned in the aftermath of the fighting. For one thing, the so-called “third-system” brick forts such as Sumter had been rendered obsolete. Dispersed earthen berms with protected magazines and other innovations were seen as replacements for defensive works around key waterways and harbors. Breech-loading guns, including steel models, began to be considered as replacements for the old bronze smoothbores. Innovative carriages were introduced, such as “disappearing” models that allowed a piece to remain hidden from enemy view until heavy weights were released and the gun swung into position to fire, when it retracted once more out of sight from enemy warships. Further, improved propellants sent larger rounds further than ever, sometimes up to several miles. Even a pneumatic-air “dynamite” gun that fired charges of that lethal new explosive was considered. So, too, was reinforced concrete, which was introduced to build coastal batteries towards the end of the 19th century. Many of these advancements took place during the administration of Secretary of War William Endicott, thereby giving rise to references to the “Endicott” era of coastal defenses. With Endicott, U.S. coastal defenses had entered a new period.
Although the heavy artillery underwent tremendous transformation, field artillery innovation did not more as rapidly. Although 1-inch, as well as .45 and .50 caliber Gatling guns were issued, the 12-pound mountain howitzer, along with the 12-pound Napoleon and an occasional small mortar, remained standard for several decades after the Civil War. This rather static situation for the field artillery partially stemmed from the lack of a conventional enemy against which such weapons could be deployed in the decades following Robert E. Lee’s surrender. From the late 1860s until the early 1890s, a major mission of the army was the pursuit of various American Indian groups across the Trans-Mississippi West.
Only on rare occasions did an elusive adversary stand and fight. A notable exception to this occurred in the wake of an event that began in September 1872. At that time, a U.S. Army officer, Major John Green, attempted to speak to one of the leaders of the Modocs, and Indian people who made their home in northern California and southern Oregon. Major Green wanted their leaders to discuss accusations made against the Modocs, but efforts to parlay with one of their headmen, known as Captain Jack, proved fruitless.
Within weeks Green’s superior, Brigadier General E.R.S. Canby, decided to press the issue. He sent orders for the arrest of Captain Jack and two others, Black Jim and Scarface Charley. After entering the Modoc camp, an exchange of fire took place, leaving causalities on both sides. The Modocs fled. A war had begun.
In the confusion, Jack escaped, as did many others of the band. The Modocs eventually regrouped in the region south of Tule Lake, which some had called “hell with the fire burnt out.” Here in the black lava beds that nature had formed into natural fortifications, the Modocs made their stand.
Weeks passed before the U.S. government’s forces arrived on the scene, allowing the Modocs to prepare for the siege which ensued. Regulars and volunteers eventually surrounded them. After their first attack on January 17, 1873, the troops found the Modocs to be tenacious fighters. The opening engagement ended in a clear victory for the lava bed’s defenders, despite the fact that they were outnumbered by an estimated seven to one.
The Modocs continued to hold their own against cavalry, infantry, and militiamen from Oregon and California. Mortars and mountain howitzers, along with crews from the 4th U.S. Field Artillery stationed at the Presidio of San Francisco, joined the attack, but their guns did not dislodge the inflexible Modocs. Determined to remain free, the Modocs successfully fought from their entrenched positions.
For most of the conflict, public opinion was in the Modocs’ favor. Then, on Good Friday, April 11, 1873, Canby and a small party of commissioners went to speak with Captain Jack. In the midst of the talks, Captain Jack pulled out a concealed weapon and fired point blank into Canby’s face, signaling a general attack on the U.S. representatives. When the slaughter stopped, Canby and two of his fellow negotiators were dead.
Sympathy towards the Modocs ceased as Canby’s successor redoubled efforts to dislodge the enemy. After considerable bloodshed, fighting, and the roar of artillery, the ill-fated Modoc survivors capitulated on June 1, 1873. A trial followed, and Captain Jack and three others were sentenced to execution. The remaining 153 Modocs suffered a different fate: relocation to the Quapaw Indian Agency in today’s Oklahoma. After that, there were few other noteworthy instances of artillery’s use against native peoples.
A brief experiment, starting in 1878, presaged future developments, however, when a platoon made up of black enlisted men from the 24th U.S. Infantry, were formed on an experimental basis to man Gatling guns. These foot soldiers were attached to Battery F, 2nd U.S. Field Artillery, where they responded well to training. The unit impressed some high-ranking officers who succeeded in having the organization posted in 1881 to the newly established Cavalry and Infantry School at Fort Leavenworth, Kansas. A half dozen years later, the Cavalry and Light Artillery School was founded at Fort Riley, Kansas.
These schools and the Gatling battery were clear efforts to improve the state of the field artillery, and ready it for a battle against a conventional foe. In the meantime, U.S. artillerymen were to play a role in the tragic clash that took place in the winter of 1890 at Wounded Knee, South Dakota. There a weary, cold band of Minneconjou Lakotas (Sioux) encamped after being brought to bay by troopers of the 7th U.S. Cavalry. Besides the men from George Custer’s old regiment, Battery E, 1st U.S. Field Artillery kept watch over the village.
Tensions ran high. Both sides were on edge. On December 29th, the soldiers attempted to disarm the men of the village. A rifle shot triggered a brief, costly fight. Battery E opened up its 1.65-inch rapid-fire breech-loading Hotchkiss guns, bringing deadly fire to bear. When the firing stopped, half of the village lay dead on the frozen ground, an estimated 153 in all, and many were wounded, some lingering before they too perished. Twenty-five soldiers were killed in the exchange and another thirty-nine were wounded. The “wagon-guns” had contributes to the death not only of a people, but also of a dream. The Ghost Dance that had set in motion the course of events that ended at Wounded Knee was to be the last great resistance of the Sioux nation.
The Hotchkiss guns at Wounded Knee weighted 241 pounds and could launch their 2-pound fused projectile up to 3,500 yards. This relatively light piece, along with 3.2-inch “bag guns,” were among the field artillery breech-loaders that were introduced in the 1880s as the American military attempted to keep pace with technology. The “bag gun” was an improvement over previous arms in that it was a breech-loader. Neither weapon had a recoil system, however. Additionally, the puff of black powder gave away the gun’s position to the enemy.
This was particularly a drawback when facing a foe that had smokeless powder guns. In 1898 that was just the situation when war with Spain caused the United States to send troops to Cuba, Puerto Rico, and the Philippines. On March 8, 1898, as a prelude to conflict, Congress authorized two new regiments of artillery, the 6th and 7th U.S. Field Artillery. These units and the five existing regiments, had to contend with Spanish gunners who had a number of smokeless powder pieces, although their ordnance inventory ran the gamut from antiquated 18th century bronze cannon, to up-to-date breech-loaders made by Krupp. In all, four field artillery batteries, a Gatling gun battery, and two siege artillery batteries went to Cuba.
As one example of the light artillery’s role in the Cuban campaign, they were called upon to support an assault against some 500 Spanish troops who held a strong defensive point with barbed wire protection at El Canney. At first, the American artillery was badly deployed, so they proved ineffective. Later, with the guns relocated to a more forward position, the shelling was highly successful, and helped bring about the fall of Santiago’s outer defenses.
Previously, the Gatling gun detachment, under Lieutenant John Parker, had realized the importance of close support in the assault at San Juan. The firepower of these weapons aided the offensive momentum that eventually carried the day. In the end, American military might prevailed, and Madrid capitulated. The United States had won its “splendid little war.”
The peace after this victory proved short lived in that the people of Spain’s former possession, the Philippines, balked at replacing one foreign master with another. Intent on independence, on February 4, 1899, Filipinos began a determined struggle to drive the newcomers away. Fighting both offensive and defensive battles, the Filipino military kept the United States Army occupied in many parts of the islands. In one instance the Sultan of Bayan commanded a formidable Moro army who held out in their cottas, or forts, armed with small cannon known locally as lentakas. Captain William Sharp McNair’s mountain battery had a hot time when, along with elements of the 10th and 17th Infantry and 15th Cavalry, they attempted to dislodge Moros.
Captain McNair’s oleague, Captain Victor H. Bridgeman, found the Philippines a challenge as well. His Battery G, 6th U.S. Light Artillery, came into the country with a half dozen 3.2-inchers. Eventually, four Hotchkiss 1.65-inch guns were added. The larger guns required draft animals, which were in short supply at first. Small local ponies were pressed into service, but when they were found wanting, Brahma bulls had to be used as replacements until mules could be obtained.
Finding stock was only part of the challenge. They eight guns were divided and sent with two columns on operations that took the artillerymen over 400 miles. Along the way these gunners participated in some thirty engagements against the Filipinos.
By this time, the United States was a major military power. In keeping with its new stature, coastal artillery advances continued, including increased use of electricity, torpedoes, and mines. New, improved weapons were also obtained.
Additionally, the Artillery School at Fort Monroe, Virginia, formed
part of a developing army wide system of military education. Institutions
such as the School of Submarine Defense at Fort Totten, New York, and the
School of Application for Cavalry and Field Artillery at Fort Riley were
established. The Field Artillery School that evolved from a practical
course of conduct of fire was set up at Fort Sill, Oklahoma, early in the
20th century. At the new century dawned, the American artillerymen
was well established, but some of his greatest challenges were yet to come.