Sunday, 5 February 2012

Contextual thoughts: Significance of the French Army and British Army Reforms

The French Army and British Army reform.

The French army had long been viewed by the reform-minded elements of the British army as being superior and the means to measure the supposed inefficiency of the British army. The French army was considered professional compared to the ‘amateurishness’ of the British.[1] The British army was viewed at home with ‘frustrated indifference’, especially compared to the Navy, and the ‘belief in the incompetence of the British army died hard’.[2] The British army had notably failed in America (1776-1781) and in the Low Countries (1794-1795), but saw considerable reform under the Duke of York as Commander-in-Chief, the fruits of which were felt as early as 1801 with victory in Egypt, the British army entering what was termed by the anglophile Baron Antoine-Henri Jomini as ‘l’époque de sa régénération’ (the period of its renewal).[3] This may also be attributable to the ‘degradation’ of the French army and navy during the Revolution rather than any ‘regeneration’ of the British army.[4] The overall, effect, however, was an upsurge in the morale of the British army and how the government and society perceived it. In the period 1815-1854 the British army was gradually becoming more reconciled with the country at large, especially with growing territorial ties for recruitment and the publication of the first regimental histories in 1836.[5] The army, however, was still viewed with deep suspicion by radical and conservative politicians alike which slowed or prevented reform: the former championed by Richard Cobden and John Bright of the ‘Manchester School’, arguing for army reduction on the grounds of economy, but more importantly, because of a deep-seated mistrust of a standing army. This distrust was also the key argument used by the conservatives for a small army with a divided command and maintaining the status quo. The only impetus for army reform was recurrent Imperial disputes and war-hysteria in Europe.[6]

Prussian Influences: Frederick’s legacy

The minority of army reformers viewed continental armies such as the Prussian or French as being superior to their own and a measure of ‘professionalism’ against the ‘amateurishness’ of their own system.[7] This was due to direct contact between British and Prussian armies during the Seven Years’ War (1756-1763); Prussian military methods being considered superior to the British especially after experiences in America coupled with those who had fought alongside the Prussians, contrasted the ‘professional’ controlled lines of the Prussians against the open-ordered ‘amateur’ British units in North America (1756-1763 and 1775-1781).[8] Admiration of Prussian and ‘German’ thinking was also linked to the dual nature of the British Crown, for example Hanoverian officers serving with their British counterparts in the Quarter Master General’s Department in the 1790s or Francis de Rottenburg developing Light Infantry at Shorncliffe.[9] The British 1764 Regulations were based upon the current Prussian system, which formed the basis of British tactical thinking, especially for infantry, for the next 60 or so years. In 1792 David Dundas in Rules and Regulations for infantry and cavalry (revised 1824 and 1832) emulated the methods of Frederick the Great. James Fawcett, the Adjutant-General, in 1786 and 1795 merely translated the Prussian infantry and cavalry manuals for use in Britain. These regulations were all considered far too complicated to learn or to survive the battlefield –somewhat ironic, as their introduction was intended to provide the army with a standardised set of movements and tactics.[10] Admiration of Prussian thinking continued after the Napoleonic Wars with the translation of major German writers such as Bismarck into English in the 1820s, and indeed Bismarck’s thinking on cavalry still influenced writers after the Crimea war.[11]  With the strong Russophobia in Britain from the Napoleonic Wars onwards, the Prussian army was seen as the ‘last bulwark of civilisation’ against the Russians, especially after the Russo-Turkish War of 1827-1828. The Prussian army was considered perhaps the most underrated army in Europe, but that underestimation of the Prussian army was very much misplaced, a conclusion drawn by a study of the Prussian army made in 1828.[12]  In 1829 it was proposed to replace the traditional British redcoat with one in Prussian blue and also adopt the current Prussian infantry drill manual, measures defeated through an outcry in the military press and at court.[13] Colonel John Mitchell in the 1840s was a vocal supporter of ‘German’ military thought and was an early champion of Clausewitz (which had been partially translated by a polish officer in French service) and Scharnhorst, utterly dismissing French thinkers of the same period. This support of ‘German’ thinkers came from Mitchell’s long-standing admiration of Frederick the Great.[14] Indeed, Frederick’s principles were at the basis of both French and British military thinking and he was well respected in both countries; Général L. J. Trochu in 1867 considered that Frederick still held an undue influence over European armies.[15] The French, unlike the British, however, had gone some way to modify Frederick and introduce greater flexibility, for example the work of the Comte de Guibert, something that was perhaps criticised in Britain since Guibert had modified Frederick’s principles.[16] Prussian influences were also felt in the design of British army uniforms: tight-fitting tunics with stiff ‘Prussian collars’; the bell-topped shako worn between 1816 and 1844 was described as being ‘closely copied’ from the Prussian model; its successor was reputedly designed by Prince Albert from best-practice in ‘Germany’, and following the Chobham Camp of 1853 it was even proposed to adopt the Prussian spiked-helmet.[17]

Enter Napoléon

The French army came to be admired in Britain during the Revolutionary and Napoleonic Wars because of its glittering string of victories. Despite this admiration, however, there was no attempt at direct emulation of the French, other than a short dalliance with French-inspired uniforms for some units. In the Peninsular War the British cavalry, staff and wagon train drew unfavourable comparisons with the French.[18] The French army was believed to be better organised – especially with regards to staff work and logistics – than the British, whilst the Austrians had the ‘best cavalry in Europe’ and the Prussians, infantry.[19] French and Prussian armies were cited in examples given by army reformers, especially with regards to staff work and education.[20] It was French writers, such as Paul Thiébault who were considered ‘authorities’ on staff duties and Baron Dominique Larrey, and later his son Félix, were considered pre-eminent in battlefield medicine and Jean-Bapstiste de Gribeauval one of the foremost artillery officers in Europe.[21]

It was also French rather than British writers who were the basis for much military thought in Britain in the first half of the 19th century: Napoléon I and Jomini were the central figures. Jomini’s Traité des grande opérations militaires (1809) and Précis de l’art de guerre (1838), despite never being fully translated into English nor critically studied, were considered the standard text on strategy if not largely applicable to the British army, into the 1850s and indeed was taught at Sandhurst as late as the 1860s.[22] William Napier and Sir John Burgoyne were both early readers of Jomini – Napier had reviewed his Traité in 1826 for example, calling it ‘unquestionably one of the most profound, original, and interesting [books] that has appeared in our day’.[23] Patrick MacDougal’s The Theory of War (1856) was largely based on Jomini; though he cited Napoléon I, MacDougal studied nothing of him after 1796, focusing much more heavily on Frederick and Marlborough, as more relevant to the British experience and understanding of war. E. B. Hamley went further, condemning the Napoleonic system as it ultimately had not been successful.[24]

This apparent admiration of the French military system during the 1830s- 1850s was set, contrarily, against a backdrop of deteriorating Anglo-French relations, peaking with the 1859 invasion hysteria on both sides of the channel. Whilst Britain had been in close alliance with France from 1832 over the status of Belgium, and had signed the quadruple alliance with France, Portugal and Spain in 1834, international events in 1840 came close to a European conflict between Britain, Prussia and Austria against an isolated France.[25] French revolution in 1848 once more roused alarmist concerns of invasion in the British domestic press.[26] Anglo-French relations took a further downturn following – Louis-Napoléon’s coup d’état in 1851 and the declaration of the Second Empire in December 1852.[27] It was only with the triple alliance of Britain, France and Turkey in the Crimean War that Anglo-French relations improved, and the perception of French soldiers as ‘baby eating monsters’ began to be laid to rest, when British troops met their French counterparts for the first time on a large scale and in an atmosphere of peaceful cooperation.[28] This direct contact enabled old prejudices and ‘ghosts from the past’ to be put to rest.[29] Despite the high-hopes of future cooperation with France, there was still a feeling of mistrust directed towards the French. Queen Victoria in her diary in February 1854 noted misgivings with the alliance and even thought there still could be a French invasion.[30] Direct contact would, again, influence perceptions. Following the triumphal state visit of Napoléon III and Eugénie in April 1855, Victoria felt compelled to write ‘That he is a very extraordinary man with the greatest qualities there can be no doubt…’[31] The return visit of Victoria and Albert to Paris and birth of the Prince Impériale marked the high-water mark of Anglo-French relations.[32] The close relationship between the two royal families and countries would not last, however; the jingoistic storm whipped up by the press in both countries over the Orsini assassination attempt in 1858 after it was found that the bombs used by the plotters had been made in Britain, and Britain refused to let France extradite the surviving plotters. The launch of the French iron-clad steam frigate La Gloire and the French campaign in Italy against the Austrians in 1859 led to renewed alarmist invasion fever in Britain. [33]  Peaceful Anglo-French relations were only resumed in 1860 following the brokering of a very favourable trade agreement by Cobden and Bright, and the success of Anglo-French forces in China (1856-1860) and in Syria (1859-1860), ostensibly to protect the rights of Christians.[34] Following the death of Prince Albert, Victoria, despite her close friendship with Eugénie,[35] decided to tow the diplomatic line of her late consort, of proclaiming ‘German virtue’ and ‘French indolence’ which would have far-reaching consequences for the future direction of British army reform.[36]

Reforms in the British army tended to be reactions prompted by developments in France, resulting in what could be described as an ‘arms race’. For example in 1838 the French introduced the revolutionary Delvigne rifle for use by the newly created Bataillons des Chasseurs à Pied. The British army was so alarmed by this that it ordered the replacement of the ageing Baker rifle with the rather unsuccessful Brunswick rifle in 1840, at the height of the war-scare.[37] Two years later the French converted their flintlocks to percussion firing; Britain almost immediately followed suit and when the French introduced the rifled Carabine à Tige in 1848 the British press was awash with invasion scares, leading to calls for army reform and improvement of Britain’s national defences.[38] The rifle invented by Claude Etienne Minié and Francois Tamisier 1849-1850, although rejected by the French army in 1851, was rapidly adopted in Britain. Similarly the new French infantry drill manual of 1831- actually inspired by the British 1824 Field Exercises - resulted in a reform of the British infantry drill in 1833.[39] The British army reforms in the period 1851-1854 have to be seen as a reaction to the invasion scare of those years rather than any real desire for reform. The invasion scare was prompted by the domestic and military press, fed by paranoia of a strong France under a Bonaparte and the anti-French hysteria generated by the re-establishment of the French Empire led to Britain’s armed forces being scrutinised and generally found lacking, leading to reform.[40] Re-arming of the infantry, barrack building, the Chobham Camp, and concerns about the education and professionalism of British officers compared to the French were all part of the response to the deteriorating Anglo-French political situation. Furthermore, war and invasion scares released money to the army in order to improve the national defences, most of the money being myopically spent on emergency repairs to south coast forts and on the Royal Arsenal at Woolwich, to counteract the perceived threat from France and her supposed naval building programme.[41]

Therefore, the study of the French army during the Crimean War was part of a long-standing trend for British army reforms, especially during periods of international tension with France; what was new, however, was the emulation of the French in the Crimean War reforms. Also long-standing was the belief that other continental armies  - especially those of France and Prussia - were superior in several respects, making the suggestions in the British press that the British army was inferior to the French not only more readily believed but part of a pre-existing trend. Finally, British army reformers used continental practices as evidence to support their case, but reform usually occurred when Parliament released the money to do so, often at periods of national strife, whether real or perceived.

‘From our Special Correspondent’

The biggest maker of opinion in mid-century Victorian Britain was the metropolitan and provincial domestic press, both undergoing a considerable increase in readership during the course of the Crimean War.[42] The British domestic press tended to be more jingoistic than its military counterpart; whereas the British military press viewed developments in France with suspicion, the domestic press could build itself up into a patriotic frenzy. For example, the 1848 Revolution in France lead to widespread fears of imminent invasion.[43] Most liberals, however, considered all the fears of invasion as ‘humbug’ and Punch Magazine poked fun at the ‘invasionists’ much to the chagrin of The Times.[44]

The French army was viewed with interest during its campaigns in North Africa because it was Britain’s main rival, winning a string of victories under Maréchal Bugeaud. French soldiers such as the elite and glamorous Zouaves or Chasseurs à Pied caught the popular imagination across Europe, in what was described as ‘Zouave Mania’.[45] The Zouaves appeared in cheap, often saccharine, commercial prints[46] and cardboard toy soldiers,[47] and was even used in advertising.[48]  The popular press enjoyed describing the exaggerated individual merits, acts of bravery and uniforms of the French army.[49] The Zouaves themselves produced several notable memoirs, either as a result of their popularity or as one of the driving forces of the craze.[50] French soldiers in North Africa were seen as romantic adventurers, with a glint in their eye and an eye for both the enemy and a good-looking lady, by direct contrast to the straight-laced ‘pipeclay and steel polish’ of the British soldier.[51]

Criticism of the conduct of the Crimean War and the British army was led by The Times, principally by its editor, John Thadeus Delane, and special correspondents William Howard Russell in the Crimea and Thomas Chenery in Constantinope. Russell, supported by Delane (despite his previous anti-French and anti-Napoleonic sentiment) was unfailing in his criticism of the British army and unquestioning in his praise of the French army.[52] Fierce criticism of the conduct of the war came from two other major metropolitan titles, the Daily News and the Morning Chronicle (considered to be the only major rival of The Times), both of which were liberal in politics, the latter being described in the 1840s as a ‘dissenters organ’. Both the Daily News and the Morning Chronicle were edited by Unitarians who were Radical in politics: John Lalor, the editor of the Morning Chronicle, also edited the Unitarian denomination’s principal newspaper, The Inquirer.[53] The Daily News had been founded in 1846 by social commentator and author Charles Dickens, and amongst those who wrote for the Daily News was Harriet Martineau (sister of the Unitarian minister and theologian Rev. James Martineau and a friend of Florence Nightingale), who would write her own damning book on the conduct of the Crimean War,[54] for which Colonel Sir George Bell (1st Royals) said she should have been awarded the Legion d’Honneur.[55] Dickens would later launch his own literary campaign against the perceived corruption and miss-management of the British army through his Household Words.[56] The ‘special correspondent’ in the Crimea for the Daily News was the Radical Edwin Lawrence Godkin, who like W. H. Russell, would later report on the American Civil War. He would also found the newspaper The Nation.[57]

The response of the army to the presence of the special correspondents and the letters published in the newspaper can be categorised by social status rather than military rank. The higher the social standing of an officer – irrespective of rank – the less likely they were to welcome the presence of Russell et al or believe their reports, and more likely to believe gossip and negative criticisms of the French army. [58]  Conversely, professional or middle class officers applauded the reporting of Russell et al, as did the common soldier, who now found he had a voice which was listened to.[59]  Thus, the newspapers revealed to the general public the common humanity of the British soldier, something only recognised by the few reformers in the pre-war period.  Patriotic fever of the early months of the war combined with the emotional groundswell created by the letters home revealing apparent chaos at the front mobilised the middle class and churches, galvanising them into calls for army reform.[60]  Soldiers were increasingly seen not as the ‘scum of the earth’ as Wellington had dubbed them but had ‘become human by their suffering’ and ‘recognised by their acts of bravery’. No longer was the officer and the class they represented the war-hero, but now it was the every day soldier who won Britain’s wars in spite of the blunders of its generals – a narrative which would run through British military history to the Second World War and beyond, but may have indeed held back serious reform.[61] Letters from ordinary soldiers and the despatches of the various ‘Special Correspondents’ combined with leaders of prominent metropolitan newspapers such as The Times and the Daily News contrasted greatly with the official despatches of Lord Raglan, revealing to those at home a perceived incompetence of the British army, its aristocratic officers, and above all, showing the old-enemy, France, to have a more efficient, professional army.[62] The newspapers from their focus on the winter 1854-1855 and reporting the various committees of inquiry (which also focused on winter 1854-1855) created the erroneous impression – later to become the central theme or myth of the war – that the British army was in rags and sick for the duration of the two-year campaign, and certainly worse off than the French, which was not the case.[63] Furthermore, focusing on the suffering of the soldiers in the Crimea diverted attention away from allied successes in the Baltic, reducing them to a mere footnote of history.[64] The official British dispatches and the lengthy articles by Russell were also printed in French newspapers as were letters sent home by French soldiers. Despite French press censorship, Russell’s despatches were printed because of their unstinting praise of the French army and condemnation of the British army. Letters sent home by French troops were more closely scrutinised – especially in Paris – so as to always portray the French army in a positive light, something noted by several British commentators.[65] As in Britain these letters home, combined with the dispatches of Russell et al, created an emotional groundswell in support of the common soldier with many major towns and cities in France establishing philanthropic committees to bring succour to the allied troops.[66] Acceptance of the truth of Russell’s despatches and letters home which often contrast the French and British armies during winter 1854-1855 were a major contributing factor to the naïve belief in the superiority of the French army.  This belief was held by both the French public and the French army, and stifled any desire for reform: despite its failings the Intendance Militaire obviously worked better than the British commissariat, because it was acclaimed in the British and French press.

Criticism of the British army and conduct of the war also came from literary sources, from the pens of social commentators and satirists such as Anthony Trollope, the aforementioned Dickens and William Makepeace Thackery. Both Thackery and Trollope highlighted the snobbish ‘heavy swells’ of the British officer class, who were more interested in the social cachet a commission would bring them rather than doing any real soldiering, such as Trollope’s Sir Felix Carbury.[67] Dickens and Thackery – both members of the Administrative Reform Association – lampooned the old age of British generals, their eccentricities and incompetence through figures like the grotesque General Sir George Granby Tufto in Vanity Fair.[68] The Crimean War period also represented the burgeoning middle and professional classes ‘flexing their muscles’ becoming more political and trying to claim a proper position in society, through organisations such as the Administrative Reform Association. Thus the French army, which promoted based on merit and not birth and was perceived to be well educated, appealed to the middle class of Britain as fulfilling many of their mid-century aspirations and philanthropy. During and after the war Elizabeth Gaskell used her own novels to highlight the plight of the ordinary solider and in particular army wives.[69] The United Service Magazine thought Dickens’ work to be ‘amusing’ and designed to ‘disgust the professional men’ who were his core readers into arguing for army reform, but concluded that the attacks were unfair and damaging, as they made the British army look weak ‘before foreigners’. It therefore called for censure upon Dickens.[70]  Criticism of the conduct of the war also came through various middle-class domestic journals such as the Quarterly Review or the Edinburgh Review. Thus, to the middle class readers of newspapers such as The Times or Household Words, the notion of the incompetence of the British army during the Crimean war would already have been sown through works of popular literature. This would make those readers more likely to believe the damning dispatches of Russell et al, and therefore accept the perceived superiority of the French, who to the middle-class readership were perceived as being more ‘professional’ and egalitarian than their ‘amateur’ aristocratic British counterparts.

État Major and military education

Rather like the Intendance, the État Major was not popular amongst French officers, who perceived, rather as the British did in their own staff, the product of elitism and favouritism. Whilst in theory, the Corps d’État Major was devoid of both of these, the fact that entry in to the Special Staff School was restricted to the best candidates meant invariably those candidates were from a well to do background and could afford a good education. Furthermore, given that a staff officer as part of his training was to be seconded to an infantry and then cavalry regiment, he would have to provide, at his own expense, no fewer than three complete sets of uniform (one staff uniform, one infantry, one cavalry) as well as pay for his own horse(s).[71] Thus the claim made by British army reformers that the État Major was not the ‘sole reserve’ of the social élite is misplaced, though they were correct in ascribing to the État Major the highest level of education and military training in France (perhaps Europe) – one that was comparatively higher than in Britain.[72] By comparison, British observers thought Infantry and Cavalry officers the ‘drop-outs’ from the État Major. Study of the French État Major by Major-General Knollys et al was part of a long-standing trend of studying French military education, which was invariably contrasted favourably with the British system. Emphasis on education and ‘professionalism’ from the 1830s onwards was part of a national trend of campaigns to improve levels of literacy amongst the working classes and also due to agitation from the increasingly politically active middle classes, coupled to an increasingly middle class officer corps, who had succeeded in the professional world of business, and perceived the aristocratic world of the army officer as anathema.[73] The reorganisation of the Royal Military Academy at Sandhurst and the establishment of a Staff College, whilst perhaps being influenced by reformers citing French and Prussian examples, were instigated by Lord Hardinge 1852-1854 in response to a perceived threat from France, and whilst affected by the notions of French military ‘professionalism’, it was a pre-war, not Crimean War, perception. Perception of the French Crimean War officer, however, did lead reformers such as De Lacy Evans to further their calls for abolition of promotion by purchase and, finally, a Select Committee was established to examine promotion and military education, which ultimately concluded in maintaining the status quo.[74]

Supply and Transport:  The Intendance Militaire and Train des Équipages

To mid-Victorian military and domestic reformers, such as the influential Administrative Reform Association, the idea of centralisation was linked to perceptions of ‘efficiency’: centralised, united organisations were deemed to be efficient because of the simplification of structure, thus centralisation was the ‘remedy for all evils’. Centralisation also represented economies, through elimination of costly duplication, and was therefore appealing to the penny-pinching House of Commons.[75] Centralisation had been a feature of the French army from Louis XIV, especially so under Napoléon I and the later ‘July Monarchy’, with control of the army united under a single Minister of War (who was often a senior General or Maréchal and de-facto commander-in-chief) in Paris responsible directly to the head of state and the Parlement, with each arm of service controlled by its own ‘Central Committee’ under the aegis of an ‘Inspector General’.[76]  As a result, the French military system was suggested as a better working model than the British because it fulfilled this mid-Victorian ideal of centralisation.[77]

The Intendance Militaire was a prime example of this trend towards increasing centralisation: whilst it united the civil branches of the army into one organisation, it was far too large and unwieldy and controlled areas such as the Medical Services in which many French officers – and the Medical Service itself – thought it had no business.[78] Despite this, British reformers such as Sir Charles Trevalyan or Edward de Fonblanque believed the Intendance to be superior to the British commissariat because it was centralised and, from experiences in the Crimea, was believed to work, despite overwhelming French evidence to the contrary.[79] De Fonblanque dubbed centralisation ‘sound common sense’ and argued for centralising the British commissariat and train further than the French.[80] Calls for the British commissariat to be transferred from the Treasury to the War Department and to take control of the military train were part of this trend of centralisation, the militarisation of the commissariat being proposed early in 1854. Transfer from the Treasury to War Department was completed by December 1854 and therefore not the result of the ‘emotional outburst’ that characterised the first nine months of the Crimean War and the ensuing clamour for reform.[81] The perceived failure of the British commissariat and transport arrangements compared with the apparent success of the French encouraged study of continental practices: Commissary-General George Maclean studied the Austrian commissariat system and a commission had been sent to France to study the Intendance under Major-General Knollys early in 1855, but had no direct effect on the re-organisation of the commissariat nor the formation of the Land Transport Corps (LTC). The commission, however, did influence the re-organisation of the LTC in 1856 under Lieutenant-Colonel Wetherall. The exhaustive study on French military administration by Captain Thomas Thackeray, was published too late (1856) and considered too impenetrable and Francophile to have much immediate impact on the post-Crimean reform debate.[82] The French practice of appointing commissariat officers from serving army officers, however, was adopted in Britain in 1858, but unlike in French practice where captains were appointed, who tended toward middle-age, British commissariat officers were to be chosen from younger subalterns.[83]  The overall impression created through official reports into the commissariat and transport arrangements, combined with studies of the French system and the emotional groundswell of favourable opinion toward the French from the letters written home, was of French success and professionalism compared to the incompetence of the British system – in spite of the known deficiencies of the Intendance Militaire – a belief that would last until the collapse of the French military machine in 1870-1871.

Service de Santé

The French medical services were the one area in which the British believed the French failed: both in terms of the organisation of the Service de Santé, through it being subservient to the Intendance, and the high rate of sickness and mortality that accompanied the army, caused largely by preventable diseases.[84] The Lancet and other medical journals rejected the popular claims of the domestic press that the British hospitals in the Crimea were worse than the French, citing both French casualty figures and Wellington’s campaign in the Peninsular. The Lancet estimated that in 1811 there were 15,000 men sick and during 1813 there were some 22,000 sick in the hospital in Lisbon, with an average rate of sickness of 22%, only marginally lower than the 26% for the Crimea. There was, however, a higher percentage of mortality for the Crimean army compared to the Peninsular army, but in general the high rate of sickness was not unusual and nor had Wellington’s army been as perfect as the domestic press suggested.[85] Despite these failings of the Service de Santé, its system of Infirmiers was greatly admired and considered so superior to the British system that it warranted emulation via the Medical Staff Corps formed in 1855. The Medical Staff Corps, however, did not prove ‘of the highest merit’ and had to be re-organised in 1859 as the Army Hospital Corps.[86] Similarly, the French ambulance mules – although part of the Train des Équipages and not the Medical Services – were also considered worthy of emulation from their success in the Crimea compared to the perceived shambles of the British army’s own wheeled ambulances.[87]

The Significance of the French Army in British Army Reform

Continental armies were the standard by which the perceived inefficiencies and amateurishness of the British army had long been measured. The influence of the French army in the Crimea and the perception of its superiority in terms of commissariat, transport and medical services compared to the British system gave added impetus to the pre-existing reform debate. Perception of the superiority of the French and the emotional groundswell created by the domestic press reinforced the existing notion of the inferiority of the British army compared to its continental ally. However, as Sweetman has indicated, the most significant reforms, such as the militarisation of the commissariat and breaking-up of the Board of Ordnance were pre-Crimean War in origin and thus ultimately little affected by the perception or official study of the French army in the Crimean War.[88] Whilst producing very little in the way of long-term reform of the British army other than a variety of French-style ephemeral ‘Corps’ units (the LTC, Army Work Corps and Hospital Staff Corps, for example), these units were the first occurrence of direct emulation of the French, as opposed to the Prussian army, in Britain. Further emulation of the French army was manifest in new dress regulations of 1856, introducing a single-breasted tunic, French-inspired shako, a version of the képi and even an elaborate Zouave-style uniform for the Royal West Indian Regiment in 1858; the latter at the behest of Queen Victoria.

Improved conditions, or at least fewer complaints, during the winter 1855-1856 with its apparent reversal in fortunes for the allied armies, combined with the Treaty of Paris and the ensuing reduction of the army curbed the enthusiasm and potential for reform.[89] Furthermore, the Indian Mutiny (1857-1859) distracted from the misery of the Crimea and any ensuing reform, and the domestic press heaped unstinting and lavish praise upon the army, focusing on the ‘exaggerated comparisons between the army’s exploits in India and the Crimea’.[90] Similarly, the French campaign against the Austrians in 1859 reinforced the fighting prowess of the French to British observers, but also revealed the failings of the Intendance and Service de Santé for the first time.[91]  Failure of the French support services in Italy and the success of the Prussians in 1862 and 1866 encouraged study of the Prussian commissariat and medical services – such as the report by Surgeon Bostock of the Scots Fusilier Guards on the Prussian medical and hospital establishments – concluding them to be superior to the British and French, and therefore worthy of emulation.[92] The influential Florence Nightingale also favoured the Prussian medical and commissariat arrangements over the British and French.[93] Furthermore, the controversial Général Trochu in 1867 highlighted criticisms of the French army compared to that of Prussia, conclusions which were reinforced by the collapse of the French army in the summer of 1870.[94] Thus, after the fall of France in spring 1871, British military reformers and theoreticians came full-circle in their study of the Prussian army, particularly with the reforms of Edward Cardwell between 1868-1874 who was encouraged to ‘make a full and careful study’ of the Prussian system.[95]  Admiration of the Prussian system also found support from the traditional officer class who preferred the hierarchical nature of the Prussian army to the egalitarian nature of French promotion. It also allowed the old ‘national prejudices’ against the French to re-surface as it was felt that admiration and emulation of the French army was somehow ‘unnatural’.[96]

In conclusion, admiration and importantly emulation of the French army was ultimately short-lived and based upon direct contact with the French army in the Crimean War and perceived success of the French compared to the British army. This comparison centred on the period autumn 1854 to spring 1855 rather than a sustained and critical examination of the performance of the French army during the entire war. It was a perception based on an emotional groundswell and acclaim that was not affected by serious claims that the French army in the Crimea was less than satisfactory, with some reformers such as Sir Charles Trevelyan believing the French Intendance to be worthy of emulation into the 1870s. The emotional outrage at the conditions suffered by the British army and the apparent success of the old enemy, the French, degenerated into personal and vindictive attacks, which were easy to be refuted. The emotional groundswell was defused by the establishment of the Roebuck Committee and lost all momentum, and thus ultimately had little effect on British Army reform.

[1] R. Glover, Peninsular Preparation (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1963), p. 27.
[2] Ibid, pp. 2-5.
[3] A-H de Jomini, Histoire Critique et Militaires des Guerres de la Revolution, nouvelle edition (Paris: Anselin et Pochard, 1820), Tome 1, p. 251; Glover, Peninsular Preparation, p. 3; P. Mackesy, British Victory in Egypt (London: Tauris, 2010), p. 235.
[4] A. Hugo, France Militaire 1793-1837 (Paris: Delloye, 1838), Tome III, p. 303.
[5] K. Linch, Britain and Wellington’s Army. Recruitment, Society and Tradition, 1807-1815 (New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2011), chapter 7.
[6] J. Sweetman, War and Administration. The significance of the Crimean War for the British Army (Edinburgh: Scottish Academic Press, 1983), passim.
[7] Glover, Peninsular Preparation, p. 27.
[8] A. J. Guy, ‘The Army of the Georges 1714-1783’, in  D. G. Chandler & I. Becket, eds, The Oxford History of the British Army (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2003), pp.106-108.
[9] Glover, Peninsular Preparation, pp. 128-129 and pp. 197-199.
[10] Glover, Peninsular Preparation, chapter 5; T. Hayter, ‘The army and the British Empire 1714-1783’, D.G. Chandler and I. Beckett, eds, The Oxford History of the British Army (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2003).
[11] Lieutenant-Colonel N. L. Beamish, On the Use and Application of Cavalry in War (London: T. & W. Boone, 1855). Beamish continued the British armies’ adulation of German armies by translating and considerably enlarging F. W. Bismarck Lectures on the Tactics of Cavalry (London: William H. Ainsworth, 1827). See also ‘The Uses and Application of Cavalry in War’, The United Service Magazine for 1855, part 2 (1855), pp. 583-585.
[12] ‘Memoir on the Military Resources of Prussia’, United Service Magazine for 1829, part 1 (1829), pp. 17-25.
[13] S. H. Myerly, British Military Spectacle from the Napoleonic Wars through the Crimea (Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1996), p. 36.
[14] Strachan, Waterloo to Balaklava, pp. 7-10.
[15] Général L. J.  Trochu, L’Arméée Française en 1867 (Paris: Amyot, 1867), pp. 12-15 and pp. 207-230.
[16] Strachan, Waterloo to Balaklava, p.6.

[17] Myerly, Military Spectacle, pp. 35-36; J. Mollo, Military fashion: a comparative history of the uniforms of the great armies from the 17th century to the First World War  (London: Putnam, 1972), pp. 154-156; ‘The Indian Army’, The United Service Magazine for 1857, part III (1857), pp.367-369.

[18] ‘British Cavalry’, The United Service Journal and Naval and Military Magazine for 1831, part 2, (1831), p.60; Vindex, ‘The British Cavalry’, Colburn’s United Service Magazine for 1831, part 3 (1831), pp. 473-476; Major J. H. Leslie RA, The Dickson Manuscripts (Cambridge: Ken Trotman, 1991), p. 1099; Major-General Sir W. F. P. Napier, History of the War in the Peninsula and in the South of France (New York: W. J. Middleton, 1864), vol. IV, pp. 105–106; ‘Military and Naval Matters: Thiebualt’s ‘An explanation of the duties of several État-Majors in the French Army’’, The Monthly Review, or, Literary Journal, vol. 38 (1802), pp. 104-105.
[19] ‘The French and German Armies at the commencement of the Revolution War and at the Present Moment’, The United Service Journal and Naval and Military Magazine for 1832, part 3 (1832), pp. 435-441; ‘Sketches of the Military and Statistical Position of Prussia’, The United Service Journal and Naval and Military Magazine for 1832, part 3 (1832), pp. 442-448; ‘Sketches from the Austrian Cavalry Service by a Ci-Devant Huszar Officer’, The United Service Magazine and Naval and Military Journal for 1842, part 1(1842), pp. 495- 508.
[20] Strachan, Wellington’s Legacy, pp. 134-135.
[21] ‘Military and Naval Matters’, p. 104; ‘Memoire of M. de Gribeauval’, The European magazine, and London review; containing the literature, history, politics, arts, manners and amusements of the age, vol. 16 (1789), pp. 373-375; ‘The Remarks upon the improvements proposed to be introduced in Artillery Carriages’, The British Military Library, vol. II, no. xxvi (November 1800), p. 451.
[22] H. F. A. Strachan, European Armies and the Conduct of War, chapter 5; H. F. A. Strachan, From Waterloo to Balaklava: tactics, technology and the British Army 1815-1854 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1985), pp. 1-4; ‘Military Education’, The United Service Magazine no. 217(December 1846), pp. 494 – 496.
[23] Strachan, Waterloo to Balaklava, pp. 6- 7.
[24] H.F.A. Strachan, European Armies and the Conduct of War (London: Routledge, 2006), pp. 66-67. MacDougal’s book was later translated into French.
[25] M. Price, The Perilous Crown: France between Revolutions (London:Macmillan, 2007), pp. 299-335.
[26] ‘The Earl of Ellesmere on our National Defences’, The Examiner (1 January 1848); ‘National Defences’, The Manchester Times and Gazette (1 January 1848); The New Monthly Magazine, vol. 94 (1852), pp. 175-176; ‘Our National Defences’, The Times (11 January 1848); ‘Editorial’, Daily News (5 January 1848); ‘London Taken by the French’, Daily News (6 January 1848).
[27] J. M. Thompson, Louis Napoleon and the Second Empire (Oxford: Basil Blackwell, 1965), pp. 138-140; Sweetman, War and Administration, pp. 32-35; ‘The French Revolution’, The Times (3 December 1851); ‘The French Republic’, The Times (3 December 1851); ‘The anniversary of the day which extinguished Liberties in France’, The Times  (2 December 1852).
[28] ‘The Anglo-French Alliance’, Blackburn Standard (19 July 1854). See also ‘French Soldiers in English Ships’, The Bradford Observer (20 July 1854) and ‘Embarkation of the French Expeditionary Army for the Baltic’, The Standard (17 July 1854).
[29]‘The French Expeditionary Force for the Baltic’, Morning Chronicle (17 July 1854); F. Robinson, Diary of the Crimean War (London: Richard Bentley & Co., 1856), p 105; P.  Warner, ed, A Cavalryman in the Crimea. The Letters of Temple Godman, 5th Dragoon Guards (Barnsley: Pen & Sword, 2009), p. 22.
[30] J. Sweetman, Raglan. From the Peninsula to the Crimea (Barnsley: Pen & Sword, 2010), p.174.
[31] R. Sencourt, Napoleon III. The Modern Emperor (London: Ernest Benn Ltd, 1933), p. 157.
[32] Ibid, pp. 155-164; F. Bresler, Napoleon III. A Life (London: Harper Collins, 2000), pp. 282-285.
[33] Thompson, Louis-Napoleon, chapter VI and pp. 196-205; T. A. B. Corley, Democratic Despot. A life of Napoleon III (London: Barrie & Rockliffe, 1961), pp.223-227; A. Blumberg, A carefully planned accident: The Italian War of 1859 (Cranbury: Associated Universities Press, 1990), pp. 18-22.
[34] Corley, Democratic Despot, pp. 221-224; Thompson, Louis-Napoleon, pp.212-214.
[35] D. Seward, Eugénie. The Empress and her Empire (Stroud: Sutton Publishing Ltd, 2004), pp. 76-81
[36] Corley, Democratic Despot, chapter 23.
[37] A. L. Dawson, French Infantry of the Crimean War (Nottingham: Partizan Press, 2011), pp. 305-308; Strachan, Waterloo to Balaklava, pp. 34-38.
[38] ‘The Earl of Ellesmere on our National Defences’, The Examiner (1 January 1848); ‘National Defences’, The Manchester Times and Gazette (1 January 1848); The New Monthly Magazine, vol. 94 (1852), pp. 175-176; ‘The French Carbine’, The Manchester Times (7 January 1850); ‘Our National Defences’, The Times (11 January 1848); ‘Editorial’, Daily News (5 January 1848).
[39] Strachan, Waterloo to Balaklava, pp.16-17.
[40] Sweetman, War and Administration, pp. 32-40
[41] Ibid, pp. 32-35. It is particularly ironic that in the years 1850-1854 the French army was actually reduced in size. This was due to political pressure from the French Parlement (who, mistrustful of the new President, cut the military budget) and Napoléon III’s wish to appear the ‘Napoléon of Peace’: reduction in the size of the army fulfilled his promise that ‘The Empire is Peace’.
[42] H. Barker, Newspapers, Politics and English Society, 1695-1855 (London: Longman, 2000), p. 222; O. Anderson, A Liberal State at War: English Politics and Economy during the Crimean War (New York: Macmillan, 1967), chapter 2.
[43] ‘The Earl of Ellesmere on our National Defences’, The Examiner (1 January 1848); ‘National Defences’, The Manchester Times and Gazette (1 January 1848); The New Monthly Magazine, vol. 94 (1852), pp. 175-176; ‘The French Carbine’, The Manchester Times (7 January 1850).
[44] ‘Public Meeting in Leeds’, The Times (28 February 1848); ‘London Taken by the French’, Daily News (6 January 1848).
[45] L. Delpérier, L’Epopée des Zouaves’, Napoléon III Magazine, no. 1 (2008), p. 61. See also L. Delpérier, ‘Second Empire: Les Zouaves’ Tradition Magazine, no. 46 (November 1990), pp. 10 – 14.
[46]These are often idealised images of a soldier and his family, dubbed ‘images d’epinal’. The most popular were those produced by Lalaisse or Dumarescq of Paris. Of the prints by Lalaisse, 13 showed the Zouaves of the Imperial Guard and 12 the Zouaves of the Line. Dumarescq depicted five Guard Zouaves and two Line. For a complete list of iconography of the Second Empire army see: Commandant Sauzey, Iconographie du Costume Militaire (Tome III) Deuxieme République et Napoléon III (Paris: R. Chapelot et Compagnie, 1903).
[47] Musée de l’Armée (Md’A), Paris, Acc. 53.86.4290D , Popular Art,  Zouave puppet. Md’A, Acc. 53.86.1789C , Popular Art,  cardboard toy soldiers. The most prodigious manufacturer of cardboard toy soldiers were Messrs. Pellerin of Paris.
[48] Delpérier, ‘L’Epopée’, p. 64. One of the best-known uses of a Zouave to advertise tobacco was by Braunstein Frères of Paris.
[49] ‘Extracts from Soldiers’ Letters’, Daily News (7 August 1854).
[50] For example, J. J. G. Cler, Souvenirs d’un Officer du 2eme de Zouaves (Paris: Michel Lévy et Frères, 1859); F. Maynard, Souvenirs d’un Zouave devant Sebastopol (Paris: Librairie Nouvelle, 1856); A-E-A-E Masquelez, Journal d’un Officier des Zouaves  (Paris: J. Corréard, 1858); L. Noir, Souvenirs d’Un Zouave sous la tente (Paris: Librairie Achille-Fauré et Co., 1868).
[51] The most colourful depictions of Zouaves appear in popular magazines aimed at women, such as A Lady’s Newspaper. For example: ‘A Zouave and his cat’, 25/11/1854; ‘A Zouave’, 28/12/1854; ‘The Zouave’, 31/3/1855.
[52] T. Coates, Delane’s War. How front-line reports from the Crimean War brought down the British Government (London: Biteback, Publishing Ltd., 2009), passim.
[53] R. V. Holt, The Unitiarian Contribution to Social Progress in England (London: The Lindsey Press, 1952), second edition pp. 19-20.
[54] H. Martineau, England and her Soldiers (London: Smith, Elder & Co, 1856).
[55]B. Stuart, ed, Soldier’s Glory. Being ‘Rough notes of an Old Soldier’ (Tunbridge Wells: Spellmount, 1991), p. 268.
[56] ‘The modern “Officer’s” Progress’, Household Words, vol. 1 (March – September 1850), pp. 304-307, pp. 317 -320, pp. 353-356.
[57] W.M. Armstrong, The Gilded Age: The life and Letters of E. L. Godkin (New York: University of New York Press, 1974), passim.
[58] National Army Museum (NAM), London, Acc. 1973-11-170, N. Kingscote, Mss., Kingscote to father, 18 November 1854; NAM Acc. 1962-10-94, General R. Airey, Mss., Airey to General Sir G. Brown, 29 January 1855 and General Sir G. Brown to General G. A. Wetherall, 9 February 1856, and Brown to Wetherall 10 March 1856; F. Powell, ed, At Home and on the Battlefield. Letters from the Crimea, China & Egypt, 1854-1888 (London: John Murray, 1915), p. 121; H. Addington, ‘The Crimean and Indian Mutiny Letters of the Hon. Charles John Addington, 36th Regiment’, Journal for the Society of Army Historical Research, vol. 46 (1968), p. 170.
[59] Anon. Letters from India and the Crimea selected from the correspondence of the late Deputy-Surgeon General Bostock, CB (London: George Bell & Sons, 1896), p. 227; Colonel R. H. Vetch, Life, Letters and Diary of Lieutenant-General Sir Gerald Graham VC, GCB, RE (London: William Blackwood & Sons, 1901), p. 72; Stuart, Soldier’s Glory, p. 264
[60] H. Streets, Martial Races: The Military, Race and Masculinity in British Imperial Culture (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 2004), pp. 21-21; M. Hudson & J. Stanier, War and the Media (Stroud: Sutton Publishing, 1999), pp. 19-20.
[61] Streets, Martial Races, pp. 23-24; O. Figes, Crimea: The Last Crusade (London: Allen Lane, 2010), pp. 467-469; D. Russell, ‘‘We carved our way to Glory’ the British soldier in music-hall song and sketch’ in J. M. McKenzie, ed, Popular Imperialism and the Military 1850-1950 (Manchester: University of Manchester Press, 1992), pp. 59-60.
[62] Hudson & Stanier, War and the Media, pp. 12-14; I. Stewart & S. L. Carruthers, War, Culture and the Media (Trowbridge: Flicks Books, 1996) pp. 148-151.
[63] J. Sweetman, Raglan, from the Peninsula to the Crimea (Barnsley: Pen  & Sword, 2010), pp. 270-302.
[64] A. D. Lambert, The Crimean War. British grand strategy against Russia 1853-1856 (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 2011), pp. 2-5.
[65] ‘Affaires d’Orient’, Journal de Toulouse (6 Octobre 1854); ‘Dépêche Télégraphique Electrique’, Journal de Toulouse (15 Novembre 1854); ‘Affaires d’Orient’, Journal de Toulouse (15 Novembre 1854); ‘Affaires d’Orient’, Journal de Toulouse (2 Fevrier 1855); C. Dickens, ‘A lesson lost upon us’, Household Words, vol. 17 (December 1857 – June 1858), p. 74.
[66] Colonel C. Duban, Souvenirs Militaires d’un Officier Français 1848-1887 (Paris: Plon, Nourrit et Co., 1896), p. 124; ‘Souscription de la Mairie de Toulouse en favour de nos braves soldats de l’armée d’orient’, Journal de Toulouse (30 Décembre 1854); ‘Souscription aux Soldats des armées alliees en orient’, Journal de Toulouse (30 Décembre 1854);  ‘Affaires d’Orient’, Journal de Toulouse (3 Février 1855).
[67] L. James, Crimea 1854-1856. The War with Russia from Contemporary Photographs (London: Hayes Kennedy, 1981), pp. 35-37.
[68] Ibid; W. M. Thackery, Vanity Fair: A novel without a hero (Leipzig: Bernhard Tauchnitz, 1848), part 3.
[69] S. Markovits, ‘North and South, East and West: Elizabeth Gaskell, the Crimean War, and the Condition of England’, Nineteenth-Century Literature, Vol. 59, no. 4 (2005), pp. 463-493.
[70] ‘Editorial: The Modern Officers Progress’, United Service Magazine for 1850, part III (1850), pp. 206-209.
[71] R. Holmes, The Road to Sedan: The French Army 1866-1870 (London: Royal Historical Society, 1984), pp. 38-39 and pp. 68-74; ‘The French Army as it is: Etat Major’, Colburn’s United Service Magazine for 1850, part III (1850), pp. 99-102; Sir F. Head, A Faggot of French Sticks: or Paris in 1851 (New York: George Putnam, 1852), p.401.
[72] ‘Military Education’, Frazer’s Magazine for Town and Country, vol. 61 (January – June 1860), pp. 554-555; ‘Remarks on the Composition of the Staff’, The United Service Magazine for 1855, part I, (1855), pp. 231-232.
[73] Strachan, Wellington’s Legacy, pp. 139-140.
[74] E.M. Spiers, Radical General: Sir George de Lacy Evans 1787-1870 (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 1983), pp. 190-192.
[75] Sweetman, War and Administration, p. 13 and pp. 35-36.
[76] P. Griffith, Military Thought in the French Army 1815-1852 (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 1988), pp. 89-91 and pp. 156-164.
[77] ‘Abuses in the Government of the Army’, The Spectator (28 January 1837).
[78] Ibid, p. 95
[79] ‘Army Intendance’, The Saturday Review of Politics, vol. XXIII (1867), pp. 167-169; ‘The Administration of the Army’, The Quarterly Review, vol. CXXIX (July–October 1870), pp. 146-149.
[80] ‘Military Organisation’, The Saturday Review of Politics, Literature, Science, and Art, vol. vii (1859), pp. 130-131; ‘Our Military Reforms’, The United Service Magazine for 1860, part III (1860), pp. 476-477.
[81] Sweetman, War and Administration, pp. 50-51.
[82] Captain T. J. Thackeray, The military organization and administration of France (London: T. C. Newby, 1856); Sweetman, War and Administration, pp. 52-53; ‘The Military Organisation and Administration of France by Captain Thomas Thackeray’, The Spectator (22 March 1856).
[83] Sweetman, War and Administration, p.132.
[84] ‘The Campaign in the Crimea in a Sanitary Point of View’, New Monthly Magazine, vol. 113 (1858), pp. 419-420; ‘Remarks on the Treatment of the Sick and Wounded in War’, British Medical Journal for 1870,vol. II (July-December 1870), p. 375.
[85] ‘Surgery of the War’, The Lancet for 1855, part 1(1855), pp. 32-303; ‘Mr Guthrie on Military Surgery’, The Lancet for 1855, part 1 (1855), pp. 413-417; ‘Medical News’, The Lancet for 1855, part 1(1855), pp. 569-570; ‘A report to the Secretary of War of the operations of the Sanitary Commission, and upon the Sanitary Condition of the volunteer army, its medical staff, hospitals and hospital supplies, December 1861’, American Medical Times, vol. IV (January-July 1862), pp. 14-16.
[86] Sweetman, War and Administration, p. 132.
[87] ‘News and Topics of the Day: the Army before Sebastopol’, Association Medical Journal for 1855, part III (1855), pp. 400-409; J. S. Haller, Battlefield Medicine: A history of the Military Ambulances from the Napoleonic Wars through World War 1 (Carbondale: Southern Illinois University Press, 2011), pp. 40-44.
[88] Sweetman, War and Administration, pp. 128-132.
[89] Ibid.
[90] Ibid; P. Burroughs, ‘An unreformed army?’, D. G. Chandler & I. Beckett, eds, Oxford History of the British Army (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2003), pp.184-186
[91] ‘The Italian Campaign of 1859’, The Edinburgh Review, vol. CX (July-October 1859), pp. 454-457; ‘Dr Bird on Military and Naval Hygiene’, Journal of the United Services Institution, vol. II (1859), pp. 255-258; Anon, The War in Italy (London: Day & Son, 1859), p. 51.
[92]  ‘Report on the Medical and Sanitary Services of the Prussian Army during the Campaign in Bohemia, 1866’, Army Medical Department: Statistical, Sanitary and Medical Reports, vol. vii (1865), pp. 357-387; ‘A Surgeon of the Guards estimation of the Prussian Troops’, The Lancet for 1867, part 2 (1867), p. 527; ‘The Sisterhoods of Germany and Female Nursing’, The Lancet for 1867, part 2, (1867) pp. 491-492; ‘Prussian Military Surgeons’, The Medical News and Library, vol. xxiii (1865), p. 228.
[93] L. McDonald, ed, Florence Nightingale on Public Health Care (Ontario: Wilfrid Laurier University Press, 2008), pp. 444-4445; Sir E.T. Cook, The Life of Florence Nightingale (London: MacMillan & Co, 1862), vol. II, pp. 118-119.
[94] Trochu, L’Armée Francaise, passim;  ‘The Military Institutions of France’, The Edinburgh Review, vol. cclvii (July 1867), pp. 138-152.

[95] E. M. Spiers, The Late Victorian Army 1868-1902 (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 1992), pp. 13-15; S. Bardsey, Doctrine and reform in the British cavalry 1880-1918 (Aldershot: Ashgate Publishing Ltd., 1988), pp. 35-37; Colonel G. Paulett Cameron, ‘The Ministerial Army Bill’, The United Service Magazine for 1871, part 2 (1871), pp. 317-323.

[96] ‘National Armies and Modern Warfare’, Fraser’s Magazine for 1870, part 1 (January- June 1870), pp. 543-560.

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