Towards a Revolution in Firepower? Logistics,Lethality,and the Lee-Metford

I. The Traditionalists

What differentiated traditionally minded officers from all the other relevant social groups connected with the selection of the LEME was the traditionalists’ attitude towards close order formation, command and control, and volley fire. At the more conservative end of the traditionalist spectrum were officers, such as the Duke of Cambridge, who could be caricatured by their dislike of the Cardwell reforms. ⁷ These reforms ended the officer purchase system and replaced the old regiments of the line with county regiments made up of short-service recruits. With one battalion from these new organizations posted overseas in defence of the empire and the other remaining in Britain, the system was designed to create an army reserve to be called out in emergency. Because the Cardwell reforms started the process of professionalizing the officer classes, those conservatives wedded to more time-honoured methods did not welcome the changes being introduced.

At the other end of the traditionalist range of views were the Europeans who believed that the army ought to measure itself against its potential French or German enemies. ⁸ Typified by men such as Captain C.B. Mayne, this progressive group was less distrustful of short service and the army reserve but more concerned by the problems caused by linking battalions for colonial service. Despite their differences, however, both factions viewed the battlefield implications posed by new technology in similar ways. ⁹ Their attitudes with regards to how to respond from a technical perspective were slightly different, but their tactical schemes were broadly aligned. In this respect what distinguished the progressive from the conservative was the fact that the Duke of Cambridge, as the commander-in-chief, was in a better position to effect organizational change. In what follows the nuances of the traditionalists’ point of view on small arms and minor tactics are examined in more detail.

After commanding the Guards Division during the Crimean War, where he displayed ‘personal courage but only mediocre military talent’, the Duke of Cambridge became the commander-in-chief in 1856. ¹⁰ As the Queen’s cousin the Duke often communicated with the royal household on military matters. However, following the War Office Act of 1870 the commander-in-chief had to accept subservience to Parliament and console himself with trying to prevent further reforms which might undermine an institution he clearly cherished. ¹¹ While Cambridge was most definitely conservative when it came to civil-military relations and questions concerning the army’s organization, his views, according to the adjutant general, Lord Wolseley, were at least driven by higher ideals. Indeed, whereas the Queen recognized in 1890 that he could be ‘retrograde and reactionary’, Wolseley commented: ‘Educated to believe in the army as he found it, because it had been made by the great Duke of Wellington, he honestly and firmly believed that what had been created by such a master of war must be the best for all time.’ ¹²

Heartfelt commitment to the army aside, Cambridge’s view of the battlefield was conditioned by the fact that he had been deskbound since the Crimean War. As he had no experience of the types of colonial campaigns being fought in the second half of the nineteenth century, his tactical views were concerned with rigidly implementing the textbook approach to fire discipline and fire control. ¹³ This did not mean that he was against the use of firepower but that, as official drill stated, ‘It cannot be left to individual initiation without the danger of its degeneration into a useless expenditure of ammunition.’ ¹⁴ There were a number of good reasons for this approach. At a practical level, discharging several rounds of black powder ammunition in a short period of time would obscure the enemy, making it hard for an officer to direct fire. This would make it difficult to determine what target was the most important, which in turn might prevent a unit from carrying out the instructions of higher authority. Accordingly, if order was to be maintained and generals were to be given the opportunity to achieve their objectives, fire had to be controlled. For the traditionalists the best way that troops could be kept in hand was if they were close together or better still in shoulder to shoulder formation. ¹⁵ This would keep officers and men in close proximity, allowing fire orders to be transmitted easily down the chain of command. At the same time, by firing in and taking pauses between volleys the smoke could clear from the front, which would make it easier to correct for elevation and direction while regulating the expenditure of ammunition. ¹⁶

By contrast, individual fire was to be avoided at all costs. ¹⁷ There were several reasons for this, all mainly derived from the doubt officers felt about the educational achievements of their men, whom they viewed as ‘helpless and careless … [and] to be treated like [children]’. ¹⁸ It was not clear whether the men would be capable of picking out the most valuable military targets, deciding on the range to engage the enemy, or ensuring that their activities complied with orders unless given explicit instruction. ¹⁹ Soldiers who used their weapon independently advanced the chances of a ragged and continuous fire which made it hard for instructions to be heard. The upshot of this was that officers did not believe that, in the heat of battle, the rank and file could control their emotions sufficiently to avoid wasting all their ammunition. Individual fire was consequently viewed as useful only if it could be ‘stopped and taken up again instantaneously at the will of the Commander’. ²⁰

The School of Musketry reinforced these messages in its curriculum. ²¹ To pass the school’s extra certificate, a course which was available only to officers, it was essential to have read various papers from C.B. Mayne’s Infantry Fire Tactics. ²² The central theme of this book, and indeed of the author’s writings in general, was the maintenance of fire discipline and control by officers over their men, preferably by the use of close order formation, volley fire, and the avoidance of unnecessary mixing of subordinate units. ²³ In this respect the Martini-Henry served only to physically underline the importance of these ideas to all members of the infantry company. For as a single-shot rifle the Martini-Henry required the soldier to load, fire, extract, and reload ammunition as he was engaging with the enemy. All these activities were extremely obvious to those in charge of infantrymen, especially if troops were in close order or ‘locked up’ formation. ²⁴ The rank and file could therefore be directed to fire in volleys at the most important targets as defined by a commanding officer.

Conversely, if a soldier were provided with a magazine rifle, the need to reload from a pouch was suppressed. ²⁵ This could potentially undermine the fine balance of relationships that existed between officers and the ranks, making it harder to maintain what one commentator has described as ‘restrictive control’. ²⁶ This was because it was difficult for officers to monitor how many rounds had been fired from the magazine, while it was made easier for soldiers to fire from this reserve without fear of disciplinary action. ²⁷ The result could be an unnecessary wastage of ammunition that undermined the ability of the officer to achieve his military objectives.

Such an attitude towards fire control helps to explain why the Duke of Cambridge was so reluctant to move from the Martini action. In October 1880 the director of artillery and stores asked the surveyor general of ordnance whether it was necessary to investigate adopting an improved version of the existing weapon. ²⁸ With the permission of the secretary of state and the support of the commander-in-chief, a new Special Committee on Small Arms was formed and presided over by Lieutenant General Campbell, the director of artillery and stores. ²⁹ This new body was neither sanguine about the magazine nor in favour of a bolt-action weapon. No doubt this was because of a desire to preserve existing command arrangements, but it was also noted by the traditionalists that experience in war had proved the Martini action to be both safe and reliable. ³⁰ As far as the Duke of Cambridge was concerned there was insufficient evidence to show that the falling-block action found in the Martini-Henry was redundant. ³¹

Consequently, between 1880 and 1885, despite the protestations from other parties who wanted more investigations into magazine arms, the War Office spent the vast majority of its time and energy investigating an improved Martini action rifle. The weapon the RSAF eventually came up with, known as the Enfield-Martini, utilized the same falling-block breech mechanism as the existing service rifle but had a smaller calibre of .402 inches compared with the Martini-Henry’s .450 inches. This was readily backed by the traditionalists, who were looking to maintain the existing organizational arrangements within the army.

In an effort to cement the relationship between the Martini action rifle and command and control arrangements, the Duke of Cambridge’s position on fire control became more robust. By November 1886 he directed in a memorandum that ‘Independent firing in the attack formation should be discontinued altogether, and that in future volley-firing should be employed during all stages of the attack.’ ³² The growing debate about magazine weapons clearly left the commander-in-chief believing it necessary to freeze problems associated with musketry fire at the point where an officer was necessary for the purposes of orchestrating, directing, and commanding an infantry unit’s shooting. In Cambridge’s view the officer was absolutely necessary both to the purposeful and successful performance of the infantryman’s activities and for fruitfully and absolutely carrying out the instructions of the commanding general. Any weapon that might give the soldier more opportunity to use his initiative in the wasteful expenditure of ammunition had to be resisted. As far as Cambridge and the traditionalists were concerned, magazine weapons might indeed have a role on the future battlefield but their pernicious tendencies needed to be limited.

II. The Royal Navy

Unlike the traditionalists, the Admiralty was considerably more enthusiastic about magazine rifles. ³³ This was because the Royal Navy had a perceived need for weapons with higher rates of fire but was not bound by the same limiting factors facing the army. Thus in October 1879 when the Lee Magazine Company presented a repeating rifle – which with some important modifications eventually became the LEME – to a naval committee on machine guns, the Admiralty embraced the opportunity to replace the Martini-Henry. ³⁴ The traditionalists might have preferred to ignore the idea, but, given the constitutional place of the navy, its requirements could not be overlooked.

The fact of the matter was that, if the Admiralty proceeded to purchase a rifle independently of the army, then embarrassing questions might be asked about why the two services used different weapons. This in turn might lead to further questions about the relative costs of the two systems, which would invite additional public scrutiny. At the same time, if the Admiralty wanted to secure access to cheaply manufactured, mass-produced, and high-quality firearms, then it had to work with the army. This was because, since the reforms following the Crimean War, the secretary of state for war was responsible for administering the RSAF, ³⁵ an establishment which had recently been refurnished with state-of-the-art machinery from the United States. ³⁶ There were therefore compelling reasons why the two services should cooperate over the development of small arms. This section explores these reasons and explains why cooperation was at first difficult to achieve.

In the absence of an interdepartmental organization or staff responsible for coordinating appropriate activities, the army and navy possessed very few ways for developing agreement. ³⁷ This was compounded by the fact that the official channel for correspondence between the two services was limited to the civilian posts of undersecretary of state for war and the secretary to the Admiralty. ³⁸ With both sides having little opportunity to develop a deeper understanding of their differing needs, the relationship invariably descended into a fight over the finite quantity of finance and resources. ³⁹ This was a situation that was not helped by the way in which weapons were procured. The problem was that the navy resented the way that the army administered the government manufactories, while the army was not happy with the fact that the cost for storing naval ordnance was being charged to its estimates. ⁴⁰ This led to a multitude of problems where the Admiralty would want to procure new equipment quickly while the War Office would be happy to drag its feet.

However, as the officer responsible for administering naval weapon purchases at the Admiralty, the director of naval ordnance had to venture into this less than auspicious political environment for a number of purposes. Apart from the desire to make use of the facilities at the RSAF, the underlying reason for this was that the navy’s small arms requirements could not be satisfied simply by accepting whatever the army decided. Whereas the traditionalists wanted to maintain fire control and fire discipline, the Royal Navy, without the problem of transporting ammunition, was more interested in maximizing the quantities of fire that could be generated. For at least a century one of the responsibilities of the Royal Marines had been to repel boarders and engage sharpshooters in the fighting tops of enemy ships. Engaging enemy shipboard infantry from a rolling ship required individual skill at arms, and this meant that marksmanship, training, and individual initiative took the place of volley fire, rigid drill, and close order formations. At the same time quick reloading might make all the difference in close quarter fighting. Consequently, while a single-shot rifle would maintain the navy’s ability to defend its ships, what the Admiralty was really interested in was a weapon that might generate higher volumes of fire.

But the Royal Navy’s requirements did not end simply with the provision of a firearm appropriate for the Royal Marines. The reason for this was that during the 1880s the nature of the threat faced by the fleet evolved. The change was stimulated by a group of French naval theorists, known as the jeune école, who were keen to resuscitate national pride following defeat by the Prussians in 1871. ⁴¹ A central plank in their approach to maritime strategy was the motor torpedo boat: a new class of vessel intended to engage capital ships. ⁴² These fast-moving craft were designed to dart in behind the slow traversing, muzzle-loading guns of the British fleet, thereby invalidating any advantages the Royal Navy might have possessed.

However, while the torpedo boat possessed a reasonable rate of speed, without adequate armoured protection the crew could be picked off by small arms fire. ⁴³ Machine guns provided the most effective way of delivering high rates of fire against traversing targets, and when placed on ships would not suffer the logistical penalties faced by the army. ⁴⁴ The trouble with these weapons was that they were notoriously unreliable. As the soldiers on campaign in the jungle and deserts of Africa repeatedly found out, getting the weapon to the battlefield was only half the problem. Of equal concern was how to keep it working. ⁴⁵ Nevertheless, while the army had difficulties, the navy arguably had a better track record in this area. This reflected the fact that it kept its weapons on board ship where they could be protected from the elements and maintained by a crew that included the ship’s engineer. ⁴⁶ Given the presence of these technicians, machine guns were consequently a lot more reliable when part of an onshore naval brigade. That did not mean that its weapons did not jam, but it would be fair to say that the navy had some notable successes when fighting alongside the army. The most famous of these resulted in a VC at the battle of El Teb in 1884 during the First Sudan War. ⁴⁷

Bearing in mind the effort required to keep the machine gun operational, both services understood the need either to make it more reliable or to find a more robust alternative. ⁴⁸ And it was while the navy was conducting further investigations into which machine gun was appropriate for defending the fleet that the question of the magazine rifle first surfaced. ⁴⁹ Magazine rifles represented an opportunity to have a more dependable weapon that could supplement the machine gun in times of emergency. While a machine gun clearly provided the main method for suppressing torpedo boats, there was no reason to assume that the magazine rifle might not perform the role in a complementary and more effective manner than the single-shot Martini-Henry. Consequently, despite the fact that the naval committee chaired by Captain P.H. Colomb RN was only meant to investigate machine guns, the members agreed to extend their brief and started investigations into magazine rifles. ⁵⁰ As a result they examined a further seven weapons, including the M1874 Kropatschek magazine rifle recently adopted by the French navy. ⁵¹ In October 1880 a new chairman, Vice Admiral Henry Boys, indicated that further experiments were ‘very desirable, and might lead to some advantageous results for both the Naval and Military Services’. ⁵²

The Admiralty took this message to heart and for the next two and a half years continuously made enquiries about magazine arms, despite the prevarications of the War Office. In February 1883 its persistence eventually led the War Office to create a small arms committee on magazine rifles subordinate to the main committee investigating the Enfield-Martini. ⁵³ At the same time, the Duke of Cambridge committed the army to an improved version of the existing rifle, which made the creation of this new committee almost redundant. Nevertheless what the navy had managed to do was to keep the issue alive. This might not have resulted in an immediate change in War Office policy, but when events in North Africa showed that the Martini action was not reliable in difficult environmental conditions, the navy had a platform from which to push for a magazine arm. To make the case for change, however, the adjutant general, Sir Garnet Wolseley, would have to be persuaded.

III. The British Imperialists

Like the traditionalists, the imperialists were concerned both with maintaining order on the battlefield and with preserving ammunition. Where their views differed was in their attitude towards close order formations and rigid fire-control. The imperialists had seen what was possible while on campaign, and in their opinion the official approach to tactics did not reflect the reality of combat. Confusion was a typical feature of an engagement as command and control broke down. Indeed, as units made their way to the objective, crossing difficult terrain or under fire, the commanding officer inevitably found it hard to keep his men under his direct control. As a result open order formation and independent fire were almost unavoidable. The question for the imperialists was how control might be maintained and military objectives achieved under such difficult circumstances.

All the same this was but one component of the infantry battle. Of equal importance was that equipment should work in extreme conditions and at the end of long logistical chains. In this respect the imperialists believed not only that the traditionalists favoured inappropriate drill but that their devotion to the Martini-Henry was also misplaced. However, it was only the Martini-Henry’s disastrous performance in the deserts during the Sudan campaign of 1884–5 that showed that there was reason to doubt the weapon’s reliability. Until that point the imperialists did not necessarily advocate a magazine arm like the Royal Navy. Rather they took a pragmatic approach to technological change. If a sufficiently robust rifle became available then their tactical views left them open to new solutions in a way that the traditionalists were not.

The central figure in the imperialist group was the adjutant general, Sir Garnet Wolseley (from 1885, Lord Wolseley), who, with a wealth of military victories to his name, was known as ‘our only general’. ⁵⁴ The defeat of the French in the Franco-Prussian War of 1870–1 led Wolseley and his entourage, like many others, to express an interest in the Prussian mode of military organization. ⁵⁵ However, his experience of colonial warfare led him to take an increasingly critical view of the European approach. Rather than accept continental thinking wholesale, Wolseley and the imperialists were happy to select those methods that they believed most appropriate to their needs and adapt them to the British context. The main reason for this was that as far as they were concerned, the army’s primary purpose was home defence and imperial policing.

Understandably, then, the imperialists were advocates of the Cardwell reforms. This was because short service enabled the army to create a reserve force ready for a national emergency such as an invasion, while linked battalions made it easier to rotate units between home and imperial defence. Given the unwillingness of successive governments to finance it, what the system could not cope with were the needs generated by active campaigning. As a result, in 1882 the secretary of state was forced to call out the first-class army reserve to enable Wolseley to scrape together a sufficient force appropriate for war in Egypt. ⁵⁶

Battling with the War Office and the government in an attempt to create a sufficiently well-organized army ready for home defence and colonial campaigning was only the start of the challenges faced by the imperialists. Some of the most difficult problems for Wolseley and his favoured acolytes, known by some as the ‘mutual admiration society’, occurred when actually on campaign. ⁵⁷ Colonial warfare provided Wolseley with an abundance of experience commanding British forces in defence of the empire, but it was not always, as some critics noted, the enemy that caused him the most trouble. ⁵⁸ In fact the biggest difficulty came from fighting in demanding geographical conditions at the end of a long supply chain that originated in Woolwich docks. ⁵⁹ As the 1870 Red River expedition in Canada proved, the greatest effort for Wolseley often came from portaging his men, equipment, and supplies from one location to another, only to find that his adversaries had long since departed. ⁶⁰

Consequently, given the exertions required to engage with the enemy, it could prove disastrous if equipment did not work and improvisation proved impracticable. And in this respect there can be little doubt that Wolseley’s interest in small arms was stimulated by his failure to relieve Gordon in the First Sudan War of 1884–5. For whereas the traditionalists generally felt that the Martini-Henry had performed well in battle – in 1879 at Rorke’s Drift for example – its reputation was being severely tarnished by Wolseley in his dispatches from North Africa. It could be argued that this was part of an attempt to obscure questions about his own failings as a commander. ⁶¹ However, the fact remained that the Martini-Henry did not appear to work very well in the desert. Under parliamentary and public pressure generated by Wolseley’s reports, W.H. Smith, the secretary of state for war, was forced into establishing in 1886 a royal commission to investigate the matter. ⁶² Sir James Stephen, the commission’s chairman, was directed to examine the system for adopting patterns of warlike stores, find who or what was responsible for the equipment failures, and make recommendations about how to improve procurement practices. ⁶³

Irrespective of the public pronouncements made in the Stephen Report, what the War Office’s own internal investigations found was that the Martini-style breech action was not as reliable as the traditionalists asserted, especially when used in conjunction with Mk III or Mk IV ammunition. ⁶⁴ This was because the rolled brass bottle-necked cartridge developed for the Martini-Henry was a particularly weak design originally recommended by the Fletcher committee in 1871. The case was made from a coil of thin brass wrapped in such a way as to create a cartridge that was then fixed to a disc that formed a rimmed priming cap. By contrast a fully drawn cartridge was more reliable but heavier and considerably more expensive to manufacture, given the need for specialized machine tools to hammer or draw out the case. Unfortunately, when several rounds had been fired, the chamber of the Martini-Henry became very hot, and this had the effect of weakening an already fragile ammunition case in such a way as to make it likely that the cartridge would jam in the breech. At this point either the extractor would be unable to remove the spent round or it would rip off the priming cap, leaving the coiled case in the firing chamber. Needless to say, in combination with hot and dusty conditions on campaign in Africa the weapon was prone to failure, usually at the most inconvenient time. ⁶⁵

But while the report substantiated Wolseley’s claims about the disastrous performance of the Martini-Henry in the desert, it was still possible for the traditionalists to blame the coiled ammunition rather than the weapon’s breech action. Consequently when Cambridge was looking at replacing the Martini-Henry with the Enfield-Martini, Wolseley was not at first opposed. ⁶⁶ However, as it became clear that the Enfield-Martini might suffer the same problems as the weapon it was to replace, Wolseley became more open to the possibility of a different breech action. ⁶⁷ This did not mean that he advocated a magazine arm. Just like the machine guns that had so regularly failed at critical times on the battlefield, such weapons might suffer even worse technical failings. Rather, his willingness to look at different technical solutions to the breech-loading problem was rooted in his tactical outlook. For unlike the traditionalists, the adjutant general was not wedded to close order formations and volley firing. As a result he could accept another form of rifle so long as it was sufficiently robust and did not compromise his views of combat. As far as Wolseley was concerned, ‘the great object of all military teaching is to develop the power of each breech-loading rifle, and the independent action of the soldier who carries it, to the fullest possible extent’. ⁶⁸

Essential to a programme focused on developing the firepower of each man and his rifle was the need to recognize that chaos in combat was the norm. Indeed, contrary to the ideas of C.B. Mayne, Wolseley affirmed that he had ‘never seen an instance of any position being assaulted in which companies and battalions were not mixed in a very curious way’. ⁶⁹ In real battle units always became intermingled, which made tactical control by officers extremely hard. Confusion was further compounded by the nature of the formations infantry had to take either as a result of enemy fire or because of the terrain being crossed. ⁷⁰

To Wolseley the evidence in support of open order tactics was therefore compelling. This is because it reflected both the reality of the empty battlefield, where the enemy had taken cover so that they could not be seen and troop dispersal increased survival chances, and the difficulty of manoeuvring units over broken ground. ⁷¹ In these circumstances the traditionalists’ approach to fire control was impossible. Open order formations effectively meant that the troops would be too distant to hear or to be in the control of their commanding officer. ⁷² Accordingly volley fire would be next to unattainable either on the attack or at close range. ⁷³ And this meant that individual skill at arms would be the most important factor in battle. Infantrymen would have to use their initiative and pick out their own targets while avoiding the unnecessary wastage of ammunition.

However, if open order tactics and the use of individual fire were to become the norm, then prior training would be needed to coach the men properly so that they understood under what conditions they would be expected to fight. The key to realizing this goal was through the effective use of drill based on actual battlefield conditions. Wolseley’s approach was not that of the traditionalist who insisted on the parade-ground manoeuvres so beloved of Cambridge. ⁷⁴ Rather, it was intended to allow an officer to ‘get at the enemy with as little loss as possible, and as quickly as it is possible to do so’. ⁷⁵ To establish what drills ought to be taught, Wolseley believed that it was essential to study the way actual battles were fought: ‘accept certain difficulties; work back from those … and try to take the sting out of the disorder which we know to be inevitable … deduce laws from it, and formulate your drill to suit them’. ⁷⁶

Because of his position relative to that of the commander-in-chief, Wolseley did not have the wherewithal to implement his views without the exertion of considerable effort on his part. Nonetheless, that did not stop him from developing his ideas with the help of others. Two officers in particular stand out for their contributions. The first was Colonel John Frederick Maurice, who spoke about drill on several occasions and in 1885 was appointed, by Wolseley, to the Staff College as professor of the military art and history. ⁷⁷ The second was Lieutenant Colonel (later Brigadier General) J.H.A. MacDonald, a volunteer, and Scotland’s lord advocate, who first lectured on the same issue in 1885 to the Royal United Service Institution and was to do so again, this time with Wolseley himself in the chair, in 1890. ⁷⁸ All three men were on good terms, regularly attended each other’s lectures, and believed that the substantive lesson of the Franco-Prussian War of 1870–1 was that ‘whereas under the old condition of fighting the General in command had to handle a machine, now he has to lead and guide a body which has become infused with a mind and spirit of its own’. ⁷⁹

The theme running through MacDonald’s and Maurice’s lectures was related to freeing the infantry from ‘cumbrous and roundabout movement’ in order to avoid unnecessary fatigue by approaching the enemy directly. If close order formation meant troops were locked up, shoulder to shoulder, then the objective of these new drills was to develop ‘accuracy of movement without touch over the fire-swept space, both as regards interval and direction, [on which] the chances of producing a solid, well put together organism for the deciding blow, for the shock of the charge, [will] depend’. ⁸⁰ And in this respect the imperialists remained true to their experience of battle which demonstrated that the infantry would still need to get up close to the enemy, push them off their ground and occupy their positions, sometimes at the point of the bayonet. ⁸¹

The organizational means by which MacDonald thought this possible was through a system of grouping soldiers together. ⁸² This was not a replacement for the existing organizational structures, i.e. by rank and file, company, battalion, etc., but rather a way of combining troops into what today some armed forces might call a ‘buddy’ system. ⁸³ The usual mode of organizing soldiers in the Victorian army was on the basis of what duties they might be expected to perform in the barracks, rather than on whether they were friends who could rely on each other in battle. Thus, one senior officer stated: ‘We always comrade the men the initials of whose names are in the first half of the alphabet, with those whose initials are in the second half … We do this so that both of them may not be detailed for duties at the same time.’ ⁸⁴ By contrast, MacDonald’s ambition was to group comrades together so that they were administered and trained by one set of officers and NCOs, rather than being passed around the battalion as dictated by training and garrison duties. To MacDonald such a grouping would encourage soldiers to develop, maintain, and retain their cohesion so that when they became intermingled on the battlefield they would more easily be able to re-form and put themselves at the command of their commanding officer. ⁸⁵

To old hands, however, such a change might undermine the command structure MacDonald was trying to improve. As far as some regimental authorities were concerned, one reason why the barracks were organized with garrison duties in mind was in order to keep the men from getting bored and resorting to drink and prostitutes. ⁸⁶ At the same time, encouraging too much familiarity between officers and other ranks could also breed contempt. Consequently, NCOs and officers were encouraged to keep distinct messes and ways of working so that they might more easily be able to sustain the formal hierarchy of command. ⁸⁷

Nevertheless, the evidence as far as Maurice, MacDonald and Wolseley were concerned was clear. Chaos and the intermingling of units was the battlefield norm. Open order tactics were essential to avoid unnecessary casualties, and fire control was harder to orchestrate by word of command. Troops would have to become adept skirmishers if they were to operate effectively on the dispersed battlefield. Discipline was of course a very necessary feature of army life but it was in the area of drill that a resolution to the various tactical problems could be found. The objective was to find a way to achieve ‘the preservation of order in disorder, and of system in confusion’. ⁸⁸ If this was to be successful then it was essential that training reflect and prepare troops for what they were paid to do: fight.

Wolseley’s views on tactics were primarily concerned with fostering greater individual responsibility in the use of a soldier’s personal weapon. Accordingly, he was a supporter neither of excessive fire-control nor of the overuse of drawing ammunition from the magazine. Instead he advocated an approach to training that showed soldiers how to use their weapons on the basis of their own initiative and logistical prudence. When it came to developing a weapon to replace the Martini-Henry, Wolseley still needed to be persuaded by others that the magazine arm was a viable alternative. The Sudan War had convinced him that a change from the falling-block breech action might be worthwhile, but it did not follow that he had to accept the introduction of a magazine as well. This was because colonial campaigning had shown the imperialists how difficult it was to sustain an army in the field, thousands of miles from the Woolwich docks. Complicating this by increasing the volumes of ammunition a soldier could fire might not necessarily aid a general in his attempts to achieve victory. At the same time if troops could be trained to use the reserve of cartridges in the magazine only when absolutely necessary, then the logistical and command and control implications of the weapon could be minimized. Nonetheless, there were at least two issues that needed to be resolved if Wolseley was to be brought around to the idea. These related to whether such a weapon could be both reliable and logistically viable when used at the end of a long supply chain.

IV. The Radicals

Unlike the imperialists and the traditionalists, the radicals were the only members of the army both in favour of increasing the quantity of firepower troops could generate and unafraid of the logistical implications that such an attitude implied. Where the radicals and imperialists were in alignment was in relation to their views on open order tactics and effective combat training. However, if the radicals were to convince Wolseley and others that the next weapon should include a magazine, then reliability and the question of the strain on the supply chain would have to be addressed. At the same time, contrary to the traditionalists who saw this as the thin end of the wedge, these progressives did not argue that this new technology would necessarily entail disruptive challenges to officer–man relations across the whole of the army. Instead, they preferred to downplay the organizational implications of the LEME and focused their attention on how the magazine rifle would improve the ability of the light infantry to fire at a rate comparable with the regiments of the line. That is not to say that the radicals were not great advocates for their particular style of warfare; they were just more politically astute about how to make a case for change than some might have given them credit for.

The main protagonist in the story of the LEME who took a radical perspective on firepower and logistics was Lieutenant Colonel C.G. Slade, commanding officer of the 2nd Battalion, the Rifle Brigade. Slade’s prominence was guaranteed following his appointment to the committee on magazine arms created at the insistence of the Royal Navy in February 1883. Coming from a regiment with a tradition of light infantry tactics made famous by the Peninsular War, Slade was well groomed in the virtues of the rifle. Traditionally, rifle regiments were employed as skirmishers, fighting in open order and using a rifle rather than a musket to pick off targets at range. When compared with a smooth-bore musket, the muzzle-loading rifle was difficult to reload quickly. The development of breech-loading technology and the Boxer self-contained cartridge was therefore extremely welcome to riflemen because, taken together, both inventions increased the speed at which a rifle could be fired. But welcome as they were, the weapon still needed to be reloaded by hand, and this meant that rifle regiments strung out in open order were unable to concentrate their fire in the same way as their close order, volley-firing, heavy infantry colleagues.

Nevertheless, it was not the rifle of and by itself that was important to these skirmishers but their approach to marksmanship and training and their progressive attitude towards discipline that created the right conditions upon which success on the battlefield could be achieved. ⁸⁹ The weapon may have been the physical representation of the rifle regiments’ philosophy but, while respected, this was a philosophy that caused a degree of wariness in the rest of the army. This was partly because many in the rifle regiments believed that the effectiveness of their weapon was determined by training light infantrymen to use their initiative rather than simply to obey orders in a parade-ground fashion. With the army famously described by the Duke of Wellington as being ‘composed of the scum of the earth’, such a novel approach did not sit well with those regiments that preferred to instil a more formal system of discipline and drill. ⁹⁰ One of the most obvious areas where this manifested itself was in relation to corporal punishment. For while the light infantry had avoided making excessive use of flogging since Sir John Moore’s time 100 years previously, the rest of the army only abolished it in 1881. ⁹¹ Thus, in many respects Slade’s appointment to the committee on magazine rifles was likely to cause a clash with those more conservative members who were wedded to more formal and traditional modes of military organization.

That Slade was fighting an uphill battle with his more conservative-minded colleagues is demonstrated by the fact that on a number of occasions he was compelled to append his minority views to the recommendations of the full committee. ⁹² Having examined 31 different firearms the small arms committee established by the Duke of Cambridge was prepared to put forward only 3 rifles for further consideration as a magazine arm. ⁹³ The first was the Owen Jones, which used the same breech action as the Enfield-Martini. The other two were bolt-action weapons based on the design submitted by the Lee Magazine Company to the naval committee on machine guns in 1879. However, despite this apparent willingness to recommend a magazine arm for future service, the more conservative-minded colleagues on the committee did so without any conviction as to the utility of the technology. ⁹⁴

As far as the magazine rifle committee was concerned, the most reliable breech-closing mechanism available was the falling block found in the Martini-Henry and reproduced in the Enfield-Martini. ⁹⁵ The North African experience had not invalidated this conclusion, as the War Office’s internal investigation had concluded that the ammunition was to blame for the weapon’s failures. ⁹⁶ The Lee Magazine Company’s firearm, by comparison, used a bolt system which the committee was reluctant to recommend, despite its repeated success in trials. ⁹⁷ Instead, if a magazine arm was to be insisted upon, then they preferred the Owen Jones, a weapon that utilized a falling-block breech mechanism.

While Slade did not criticize the Owen Jones directly, it is clear that he saw some very serious flaws in its proposal. The first was that members had made the recommendation after examining only one example of the weapon. ⁹⁸ Accordingly, the committee had no way of establishing the design’s reliability in relation to a number of rifles. The second and more serious concern was that, according to Slade, ‘The falling block of the Martini breech-action has … baffled every inventor who has attempted to adapt a magazine attachment to it.’ ⁹⁹ As a result he believed that it was almost a ‘mechanical impossibility’ to modify this type of breech mechanism for use with a magazine. The effort involved in making such a device work would result in a fragile mechanism that was unlikely to survive in the field once it had got into the hands of the soldiery and away from the careful nursing provided by engineering staff. As far as Slade was concerned, if the War Office went ahead with the Martini action, it would be out of the question to convert it into a magazine rifle. ¹⁰⁰ To go down the road of adopting a falling-block breech would either lock the army into a single-shot weapon for some years to come, or involve the War Office in even greater time delays and costs as it sought to change to a more robust magazine arm at a later date. ¹⁰¹

But reliability was not the only issue over which Slade was prepared to argue. When it came to logistics the committee members took the view that a magazine arm would not place undue stress on the supply chain. This was because they questioned the idea that a magazine, of and by itself, would produce a firepower revolution on the battlefield. Experiments conducted on behalf of the committee had shown that, over the course of a minute, the number of rounds that could be fired from a rifle with a magazine was not greater than the quantity that a single-shot Martini could produce in the same time. ¹⁰² This reflected the fact that no recharging devices were available for any of the weapons under examination, and thus each round had to be reloaded one at a time once the magazine was empty. That was not to say that the committee did not believe that a magazine arm might not be important at a critical moment when a very high volume of fire was required or, for that matter, that troops might not feel a boost in morale when armed with such a device. ¹⁰³ Such benefits were nonetheless dependent on both the magazine size (magazines examined by the committee contained between five and eight rounds) and the speed at which it could be reloaded. A consequence of this, according to the committee sceptics, was that, contrary to the opinions of many officers, soldiers would not need to carry more ammunition because they would be unable to fire it all at the crucial point.

However, the supply chain would only remain unaffected by a magazine attachment if the War Office accepted the specific suggestions of the committee. In particular this meant that troops ought not to be allowed the opportunity to replace a detachable empty magazine, which they might lose, with a fresh one. Thus as far as the majority of the members were concerned, a magazine ought to be non-detachable, fixed or integral to the rifle. ¹⁰⁴ Accordingly, they favoured the Owen Jones which, despite its fragility, had a fixed magazine, and recommended that the two rifles based on the Lee design be altered likewise. The first of these, known as the Improved Lee, had the detachable magazine from the 1879 version screwed to the receiver, which prevented it from being removed. The second, known as the Lee-Burton, utilized a fixed magazine to the side of the receiver in a similar fashion to the Owen Jones. The result of these modifications was that the soldier was forced to reload the weapon one round at a time from his ammunition pouch, which thereby slowed down his ability to fire all his ammunition at once. Fixing the magazine to the rifle was, therefore, a technical solution to the problem of enforcing fire control, demonstrating just how little the rank and file was trusted.

By contrast Slade was a strong proponent of detachable magazines. ¹⁰⁵ This was because the device would allow the men to fire all their ammunition and then reload quickly by replacing the spent with a fresh magazine. As a result troops would have more flexibility to use their weapons as the battle dictated. However, while this might increase the quantity of firepower generated, it also posed considerable challenges for those managing the supply chain. Unfortunately for Slade, if the War Office persisted in its decision to adopt .402 inch Enfield-Martini calibre ammunition, then his suggestions would be difficult to implement. This was because the .402 inch round was too large and would necessitate a clumsy magazine ¹⁰⁶ – but if a smaller alternative might be found, then the magazine might become handier. At the same time more rounds could be carried in the baggage train for the same weight as the larger ammunition, which in turn alleviated the logistical implications posed by an increase in firepower.

Similar views had been aired by Lieutenant Colonel T. Fraser of the Royal Engineers during the summer of 1884. At that time he had stated that smaller bore ammunition would be more appropriate for short-service recruits. ¹⁰⁷ In his view, a .38 or .39 inch calibre round with a cartridge case containing a propellant that produced high muzzle velocities would result in a rifle that could ‘shoot by itself’. ¹⁰⁸ A weapon that created minimal recoil would be easier to learn how to use because it would not be so uncomfortable to fire. At the same time a round with a flatter trajectory helped soldiers to hit their targets by minimizing ‘personal errors of aiming’. ¹⁰⁹ Fraser’s suggestions had been rejected by Wolseley and Cambridge on the basis that considerable effort had already been put into developing .402 inch ammunition. Nonetheless, Slade seized on the possibility, stating that, ‘The Service arm of the future will be a small bore, having a magazine or feeding apparatus of some sort.’ ¹¹⁰ The question was: could a technical solution be found that might realize Slade’s ambitions and assuage the concerns of the traditionalists and imperialists?

Bearing in mind that the radicals and imperialists had a shared outlook on certain problems of battle, Slade’s starting place in his efforts to persuade the sceptics as to the virtues of the Lee Magazine rifle was Lord Wolseley. During the winter of 1886–7 Slade produced a long memorandum on magazine arms which he submitted to the adjutant general for consideration. ¹¹¹ In it he stated that he believed the weapon of the future would be:

a small bore, probably .300”, the bullet steel-cased, and the charge compressed powder, or a smokeless chemical compound. The soldier will carry on his person from 120 to 150 rounds, the magazine will be detachable, and the soldier will carry two or three, ready loaded, each holding from 10 to 15 cartridges. ¹¹²

Given the trials conducted by the magazine rifle committee, the continued suspicions about the falling-block breech mechanism, and the demands of the Royal Navy, Slade argued that the Improved Lee’s bolt-action mechanism offered a level of reliability that other systems could not. But, if the question of reliability could be addressed, then the matter that would make or break Slade’s argument was related to the tactical implications posed by such weapons.

Slade understood this perfectly well. ¹¹³ However, in his attempts to convince Wolseley he chose to downplay the tactical concerns by arguing that fire discipline would remain of paramount importance. ¹¹⁴ Fire discipline held the key to ammunition wastage. If discipline could be maintained, then Wolseley’s logistical concerns would be alleviated. At the same time, according to Slade, choosing a magazine arm of and by itself had nothing to do with the weapon’s inherent superiority but was important in order ‘to keep abreast of one’s neighbours’. ¹¹⁵ The army ought therefore to consider it not because it would bring about revolutionary changes on the battlefield but because other nations were starting to take the weapon seriously. Clearly Slade believed that if the imperialists could be won over by his logistical arguments, then selecting a weapon because other nations were investigating it as well might be a line of reasoning that could be used in the future to win round the traditionalists.

Unafraid of the logistical implications posed by his firepower preferences, Slade sought out alternative technical solutions to the problems faced by the other actors. As a member of the Rifle Brigade, he recognized that there were some obvious advantages to be gained from a change in breech mechanism combined with a reduced calibre round and detachable magazine. In this respect Slade quite clearly took a more radical stance than those he was trying to convince. Building support for his position did not, therefore, come easily. From the Admiralty’s perspective Slade’s commitment to a magazine rifle was only useful if agreement could be reached on a breech mechanism. When this eventually happened in 1886, the scene was set for the radicals and the navy to align themselves.

Slade’s views on tactics, reliability, and logistics were more in common with those of the imperialists than they were with the traditionalists. Accordingly it could come as no surprise that he should try to appeal to the likes of Wolseley when trying to build his case for change. However, while agreement over tactics might keep Wolseley open to the possibility of a technical change, he still needed to be convinced by the reliability of the weapon suggested by Slade. With continuing questions being raised about the falling-block breech mechanism, the imperialists could no longer necessarily rely on the recommendation to adopt the Owen Jones. Consequently, armed with arguments furnished by Slade, Wolseley was prepared to consider the bolt-action breech mechanism and argue with the traditionalists about changing to a magazine arm. But it did not follow that he would be prepared to swallow Slade’s argument whole. A number of issues would need resolving before that might be achieved, the most important of which was related to whether a smaller round could be sufficiently lethal. Where Slade had been successful was in changing the way in which a key protagonist saw the magazine rifle question, and in this respect his importance stems from the fact that he managed to move the debate towards a more radical point of view.

V. Logistics, Lethality, and the Lee-Metford

In September 1887 the magazine rifle committee finally recommended the LEME for adoption by the British army. ¹¹⁶ By December the following year, with all the protagonists in agreement, the secretary of state for war, Edward Stanhope, accepted it into service. ¹¹⁷ This section outlines the three areas around which compromise over the LEME’s design was finally achieved. Of particular interest to all concerned was whether a reduced calibre round was either technically viable or sufficiently lethal. If it could be shown that it was, then making the change to a smaller, more deadly bullet was an attractive proposition. This in itself was not an argument for a magazine rifle, but, given the diminished logistical implications, it did make such a proposal harder to resist. What might undermine such moves, however, were matters relating to fire control. The question was how to limit the excessive wastage of ammunition. Finding agreement here meant reopening questions about the detachability of a magazine. At the same time it also led to the adoption of a cut-off, a device designed to shut off the ammunition in the magazine and make it easier for the soldier to load his rifle like a Martini-Henry single-shot weapon.

Slade’s argument with Wolseley had turned on whether the Enfield-Martini .402 inch round could be abandoned in favour of something smaller. In the spring of 1887 a technical solution that addressed this particular problem was presented to the magazine rifle committee and helped propel the case he had made. ¹¹⁸ During 1886 the Swiss army adopted a rifle known as the Rubini, whose main interest from the British point of view stemmed from the fact that it fired .298 inch ammunition. ¹¹⁹ Slade could now use a solid example to show his committee colleagues and just as importantly the wider interested community that changing to a reduced calibre bullet was a technical possibility.

A change in calibre now rested on how lethal such a round might be. The crucial test of lethality as far as the main figures were concerned was whether ammunition was effective against cavalry horses. Traditionally, cavalry were used for reconnaissance, in pursuit of a fleeing enemy or as a shock formation that used the weight of a massed rank of men on horseback armed with sword or lance to charge a fixed position. If cavalry were to be defeated, then it was important that the bullet that replaced the Martini-Henry’s .450 inch round be capable of stopping a charging horse. Accordingly, Lord Wolseley told the Duke of Cambridge that, in his opinion, an experiment was necessary to establish whether a calibre below .402 inches would be sufficiently destructive. ¹²⁰ The Duke agreed with the proposition and trials were organized to compare the effectiveness of the Enfield-Martini with the Rubini rifle. Clearly the benefits that could be derived from a smaller round could not simply be dismissed.

By May 1887, after extensive tests on dead horses by the veterinary surgeon, it was found that ‘the Rubini rifle and ammunition are more destructive to animal tissues than the Enfield-Martini’. ¹²¹ Consequently in June 1887 the president of the magazine rifle committee duly reported that its members ‘now unanimously record their conviction that the advantages offered by the small calibre are so great as to render a change in the calibre of the Service arm a matter of immediate and paramount importance’. ¹²² Bearing in mind the logistical concerns held by the imperialists, this evidence was difficult to argue with. This was because a greater quantity of more destructive ammunition could be carried in the baggage train when compared with that necessary for either the Martini-Henry or the Enfield-Martini. ¹²³ No wonder, then, that in September 1887 all the protagonists agreed on a .303 inch calibre. ¹²⁴ For they did so knowing that it weighed half as much as the Mk III Martini-Henry round and yet was more effective against horses. Slade’s argument in favour of a reduced calibre had won the day. However, without the timely developments in Switzerland it is possible that the British army might have missed the opportunity.

Nevertheless, just because the ammunition question had been settled in Slade’s favour it did not follow that the protagonists would agree to the rest of his agenda. For the fact of the matter was that the army did not have to adopt a magazine arm just because more ammunition could be carried in the supply chain. Certainly the imperialists found the prospect of a new, smaller-calibre magazine rifle to be attractive. After all, they would not have to compromise on logistical or reliability matters. The question was could the traditionalists accept such a weapon if it also meant troops could fire all their ammunition without regard to the intentions of their commanding officer.

In these circumstances, what might convince the traditionalists to accept such a weapon was whether a contrivance might be found that could enable the rifle to be used like a single-shot Martini-Henry. And in this respect the magazine cut-off developed by the assistant superintendent of the RSAF and patented in 1887 seemed to provide a tailor-made solution for this express purpose. ¹²⁵ With the magazine designed to be shut away from use when the device was engaged, troops had to load single rounds into the firing chamber one round at a time. Soldiers could then be instructed by the commanding officer to load, aim, and fire in the usual manner. Of course the men could disengage the cut-off device, but while in locked-up formation they were under close surveillance from their commanding officer and therefore vulnerable to reprimand. ¹²⁶

Accordingly, the cut-off addressed the concerns of both the traditionalists and the imperialists who all believed fire control was absolutely necessary if ammunition was to be properly conserved and appropriate military objectives achieved. More than this, the traditionalists were happy because the pernicious tendencies of the magazine could be limited. They could continue to employ fire tactics associated with the controlled use of volley fire made possible by the Martini-Henry. This in turn ensured the role of the officer relative to his men, making him essential in the act of setting targets, checking range, and giving instruction as to fall of shot. By contrast the imperialists could agree to the cut-off because the magazine was still available for use at critical moments in the attack or defence. Finally the radicals could accept it because they were free to keep the device permanently disengaged.

Whereas the cut-off might not prevent the radicals using the magazine arm in a way that accorded with their particular way of seeing the battlefield, the issue of a fixed magazine certainly did. The radicals wanted to increase the quantity of fire that they could generate. A smaller, more deadly bullet made this likely because it retained the advantages of the larger calibre round and at the same time made it possible to carry a greater quantity of cartridges in the supply chain. However, as far as the imperialists were concerned neither a smaller calibre nor a magazine cut-off could guarantee that troops might not waste ammunition. At the same time, if the issue of command and control was as important as the traditionalists were arguing, then as much as possible should be done to prevent troops from making excessive use of their magazine.

For a number of different reasons, then, both the imperialists and the traditionalists needed more reassurance if they were to agree to the Lee bolt action. Against this backdrop, the decision to adopt the Improved Lee with the magazine screwed into the bottom of the receiver makes sense, for it was a way of binding the imperialists and traditionalists together. ¹²⁷ By preventing the individual soldier from replacing his spent magazine with a fresh one, troops could still potentially fire off all the ammunition loaded into the rifle, but their overall rate of fire per minute, as the magazine rifle committee had shown, would be limited by the need to reload. ¹²⁸ The radicals may not have won the argument entirely, but they had already moved the debate a considerable way towards their point of view. After all, there was nothing to stop the army from choosing to unscrew the magazine at a later point.

Happily for the War Office, the Royal Navy was equally persuaded by the decision to adopt the LEME. By and large the army’s specifications were within the boundaries of what the Admiralty would tolerate. Clearly the navy was not bound by the same logistical constraints as the army and could have insisted on a unique calibre suitable to the tactical engagements it was likely to face when engaging torpedo boats. However, the navy had waited so long for the various protagonists to catch up with their views that it was better to get a magazine arm in place rather than cause further delays by insisting on a different round. No wonder, then, that in February 1887 the navy made it clear that the selection of a future calibre ought to be based on military grounds alone. ¹²⁹ The only condition added was that whatever was chosen ought to be interchangeable between the services and with machine guns. This would simplify the supply chain and make it easier for naval brigades to operate on land.

VI. Conclusion

This paper makes it clear that the ambition to produce greater volumes of fire was not by itself driving the adoption of the LEME. Instead, weapon selection was motivated by a range of factors related to the differing perspectives of four different social groups, each with their own distinct views of the battlefield. The traditionalists wanted to continue to fire shots in volleys by rank. The Royal Navy was interested in a weapon suitable for engaging motor torpedo boats as well as in enabling their marines to repel boarders and shoot at an enemy located in the fighting tops of ships. The imperialists were wary of the logistical implications that stemmed from a magazine rifle but recognized the need to adopt skirmishing tactics. At the same time the radicals wanted a rifle that would allow them to match the fire capabilities of the heavy infantry.

The touchstone issue for all concerned was related to the matter of fire discipline. This was important because controlling fire linked logistics to the existing state of officer–man relations. If the men were not kept under strict control when firing their weapons, then there was the chance that they might waste ammunition. For a number of reasons the radicals and the Royal Navy had a more relaxed attitude towards this question, but that did not mean that they could avoid addressing the anxieties of those traditionalists and imperialists who were worried by the problem. When it came to the technical characteristics of the LEME, the most obvious place where this issue manifested itself was in the form of the magazine cut-off.

For those who want to argue that weapon design is simply about smoothing out engineering problems so as to increase killing efficiency, the cut-off poses some challenging questions. At first glance, the device appears unnecessary. However, by placing it within its wider socio-technical context it becomes readily apparent that it provided the means by which the traditionalists could retain control of the infantry’s rate of fire and as a result maintain the existing state of officer–man relations. At the same time, the imperialists recognized that rapid fire could be extremely useful in emergencies so long as due consideration was paid to the supply constraints within which the army typically worked. The device could therefore help to limit the logistical implications posed by a magazine rifle. Finally, while the radicals and the Royal Navy understood the preferences of the traditionalists and imperialists, they could choose to use the rifle in a way that suited their tactical preferences. The success of the Lee-Metford can, therefore, be put down to the way in which it allowed each of the four groups to do what it wanted with the weapon without compelling any one party to adopt the techniques of the other. Far from simply demonstrating the increasing importance of firepower on the battlefield, the LEME is illustrative of a more complex story: one in which the rate of fire was but one and not necessarily the most important factor.