The point is, these men were not marksmen.

From The Road to Guilford Courthouse by John Buchanan. Page 158.

They were savagely disciplined. The common punishment was flogging with a cat-o’-nine tails, giving rise to one of their nicknames—“bloody backs.”2 Three hundred, 500, 1,000 lashes were not uncommon. For receiving stolen goods Thomas MacMahan, a private in the 43rd Foot, received 1,000 lashes “on his bare back” and his wife, Isabella, “100 lashes on her bare back, at the Cart’s Tail, in Different portions and the most Conspicuous Parts of the Town, and to be imprisoned three months.” Men died under the lash. We are, of course, repelled by such measures, especially in a society in which the mere spanking of schoolchildren is not only unacceptable but in some states illegal. But the eighteenth-century was a brutal age, and the European method of warfare demanded unquestioning obedience.

The common weapon of the eighteenth-century European and American foot soldier was the single-shot, smoothbore, flintlock musket. It was loaded from the muzzle by pouring powder down the barrel followed by a lead ball, and ramming powder and ball down into the breech with a ramrod that fastened under the outside of the barrel when it was not in use. The soldier also poured a little powder into the pan, a small, scooped-out recess in the metal on top of the musket at the breech. This was the priming powder. The flint was held in the jaws of the cock (called a hammer on modern guns) and protruded so it could strike the frizzen, a piece of steel that also acted as the pan cover. When the soldier was ready to fire he drew back the cock to half cock, then raised the frizzen to the vertical, revealing the priming powder in the pan. He then drew back the cock to full cock. When the trigger was pulled the cock snapped forward and down and the protruding flint struck the frizzen. This sent a small shower of sparks into the pan, igniting the priming powder and creating a flash of flame that set off the charge inside the barrel. Those are the essential steps for preparing a musket for action and firing it. Misfiring could result from the priming powder blowing away in a strong wind or becoming drenched by rain. Faulty flints, common in the British army, also affected the performance of the flintlock musket, while common to the American army was an insufficient number of waterproof cartridge boxes.

The musket was a long, heavy, cumbersome weapon, running four and one half to five feet long and weighing eight to fourteen pounds, depending on the model. But we must keep two things uppermost in mind. First, although more sophisticated muskets existed, the flintlock musket was state of the art in the sense that it was the infantry weapon of choice for distribution to the troops. Second, it was very inaccurate. One reason for its inaccuracy was because the inside of the barrel was smooth instead of rifled and thus failed to give the ball the spinning motion required for accuracy as it was launched into flight. In addition, the black powder fouled the barrel quickly, but an infantryman in battle did not have time to clean his barrel and consequently the ball had a very loose fit. This also sacrificed accuracy but made for fast loading and firing.

A noted marksman and shooting authority of the day, Major George Hanger, who was Banastre Tarleton’s deputy commander of the British Legion in the southern campaign, wrote that “A soldier’s musket, if not exceedingly ill-bored (as many of them are), will strike the figure of a man at eighty yards; it may even at 100; but a soldier must be very unfortunate indeed who shall be wounded by a common musket at 150 yards, provided his antagonist aims at him; and as firing at a man at 200 yards with a common musket, you may just as well fire at the moon and have the same hopes of hitting your object. I do maintain and will prove, whenever called on, that no man was ever killed at 200 yards by a common soldier’s musket, by the person who aimed at him.”

This meant that to do real damage infantry had to get close to the opposing line—at least within seventy-five to eighty yards for any chance of hitting anyone—and aggressive officers attempted to close within thirty to fifty yards of an enemy line before firing by volleys. Soldiers were not allowed to fire at will, although in the real world as a battle raged on and death and confusion reigned, officers and sergeants were often unable to enforce this prohibition. The point is, these men were not marksmen. They were not trained to aim at “enemy soldiers but to point their weapons in the direction of the enemy line and pull the trigger on command. Speed in reloading and firing, not individual accuracy, was the aim. If the distance was right and not too many weapons misfired, terrible damage could be done to an enemy line. The British soldier’s musket required twelve separate motions for loading. Sergeants taught these motions by rote until they became automatic, and in action loading and firing was by command, provided the system did not break down in the heat of battle. Standing shoulder to shoulder in long lines three deep (gradually changed to double lines), infantry was trained to deliver volleys in a single explosion of flame and smoke, the eighteenth-century version of massive firepower. The average soldier could reload and fire, in theory always on command, two to three times per minute.

The lead balls were big, weighing about an ounce, and they could do frightful damage. They knocked men to the ground and tore up flesh and bone and muscle. Chest and stomach wounds almost invariably meant death, arm and leg wounds amputation in an age without anesthetics, which also often meant death following hours, even days, of agony. As lines of opposing infantry traded volleys, the shrieks and screams of the wounded and the shouted commands of officers and sergeants filled the air around the living as they reloaded and fired, reloaded and fired. File closers, men marching behind the lines, stepped over the dead and dying to take their places, and if there were not enough file closers the sergeants dressed the lines and men closed ranks. Battles were often decided by which side could take the most punishment. Advancing infantry hoped that a waiting foe would begin firing at too long a distance. If they could close fast, absorbing losses with stoicism, then deliver a volley or two at thirty or fifty yards, the issue might be decided. France lost Canada on the Plains of Abraham when James Wolfe’s thin red line took its losses and delivered close quarter volleys that shattered and routed the French regulars.