Our artillerists have paid more attention of late years to the destructive properties of various forms of cannon than to the question of range. It was different when first the rifling of cannon was under discussion. Then the subject which was most attentively considered (after accuracy of fire) was the range which might possibly be attained by various improvements in the structure of rifled cannon. Many of my readers will remember how, soon after the construction of Armstrong guns had been commenced in the Government factories, a story was spread abroad of the wonderful practice which had been made with this gun at a range of seven miles. At that tremendous range, a shot had been fired into the middle of a flock of geese, according to one version of the story; but this was presently improved upon, and we were told that a bird had been singled out of the flock by the artillerists and successfully ‘potted.’ Many believed this little narrative; though some few, influenced perhaps by the consideration that a flock of geese would not be visible at a distance of seven miles, were obstinately incredulous. Presently it turned out that the Armstrong gun was incapable of throwing a shot to a distance of seven miles; so that a certain air of improbability has since attached to the narrative. Still there were not wanting those who referred to ‘Queen Anne’s pocket-pistol’—the cannon which was able to throw shot across the Straits of Dover; and in the fulness of their faith in that mythical piece of ordnance, they refused to believe that the skill of modern artillerists was unequal to the construction of cannon even more effective.

If there are any who still believe in the powers ascribed to the far-famed ‘pocket-pistol,’ they will find their confidence in modern artillery largely shaken by the announcement that it is considered a great matter that one of Whitworth’s cannon should have thrown a shot to a distance of very nearly six miles and a half. Not only is this so, however, but it is well known that no piece of ordnance has ever flung a projectile to so great a distance since first fire-arms were invented; and it may be safely predicted that men will never be able to construct a cannon which—as far as range is concerned—will do much better than this one of Mr. Whitworth’s. The greatest range which had ever before been attained fell somewhat short of six miles. The 7-inch steel gun contrived by Mr. Lynall Thomas had flung a projectile weighing 175 lbs. to a distance of 10,075 yards; and, according to General Lefroy’s ‘Handbook of Artillery,’ that was the greatest range ever recorded. But Mr. Whitworth’s cannon has thrown a shot more than 1,000 yards farther.

Very few have any idea of the difficulties which oppose themselves to the attainment of a great range in artillery practice. It may seem, at first sight, the simplest possible matter to obtain an increase of range. Let the gun be made but strong enough to bear a sufficient charge, and range seems to be merely a question of the quantity of powder made use of. But in reality the matter is much more complicated. The artillerist has to contrive that the whole of the powder made use of shall be burned before the shot leaves the cannon, and yet that the charge shall not explode so rapidly as to burst the cannon. If he used some forms of powder, very useful for special purposes, half the charge would be blown out without doing its share of work. On the other hand, there are some combustibles (as gun-cotton and the nitrates) which burn so fast that the gun would be likely to burst before the shot could be expelled. Then, again, the shot must fit so closely that there shall be no windage, and yet not so closely as to resist too much the action of the exploding powder. Again, there is the form of the shot to be considered. A sphere is not the solid which passes most readily through a resisting medium like the air; and yet, other projectiles, which are best so long as they maintain a certain position, meet with a greater resistance when once they begin to move unsteadily. The conoid used in ordinary rifle practice, for example, passes much more freely through the air, point first, than an ordinary spherical bullet; but if the point did not travel first, as would happen but for the rifling, or even if the conoidal bullet ‘swayed about’ on its course, it would meet with more resistance than a spherical bullet. Hence the question of ‘fast or slow rifling’ has to be considered. ‘Fast rifling’ gives the greater spin, but causes more resistance to the exit of the shot from the barrel; with ‘slow-rifling,’ these conditions are reversed.

And then the common notion is that a cannon-ball travels in the curve called a parabola, and that artillerists have nothing to do but to calculate all about this parabola, and to deduce the range from the initial velocity according to some simple principles depending on the properties of the curve. All this is founded on a complete misapprehension of the true difficulties in the way of the problem. Only projectiles thrown with small velocity from the earth travel in parabolic paths. A cannon-ball follows a wholly different kind of curve. The resistance of the air, which seems to most persons a wholly insignificant item in the inquiry, is so enormous in the case of a cannon-ball as to become by far the most important difficulty in the way of the practical artillerist. When a 250-lb. shot is hurled with such force from a gun as to cover a range of six miles, the resistance of the air is about forty times the weight of the ball—that is, is equivalent to a weight of upwards of four tons. The range in such a case as this is but a small fraction of that which would be given by the ordinary parabolic theory.

As regards artillery practice in war, there are other difficulties in the attainment of a very extended range. Cannon meant for battering down forts cannot possibly be used in the same way that Whitworth’s was used at Shoeburyness. If the shot flung from this gun at an elevation of thirty-three degrees could have been watched, it would have been found that it fell to the earth at a much greater angle—that is, much more nearly in a perpendicular direction. On the ordinary parabolic theory, of course, the angle of fall would be the same as the angle of elevation, but under actual circumstances there is an important difference. If forts are to be battered down, however, it will not serve that they should be struck from above; our artillerists must perforce keep to the old method of pounding away at the face of the forts they attack. Therefore, an elevation which is all very well for mortars—that is, when the question merely is of flinging a bomb into a town or fortress—is utterly unsuited for ordinary artillery. With an elevation of ten degrees, Whitworth’s cannon scarcely projected the 250-lb. shot to a distance of three miles.

The progress of the modern science of gunnery certainly tends to increase the distance at which armies will engage each other. With field artillery flinging shot to a distance of two or three miles, and riflemen able to make tolerably sure practice at a distance of three-quarters of a mile, we are not likely often to hear of hand-to-hand conflicts in future warfare. The use of breech-loaders will also tend to the same effect. Hitherto we have scarcely had experience of the results which these changes are to produce on modern warfare. At Sadowa breech-loaders did not encounter breech-loaders, and it was easy for the victors in that battle to come to close quarters with their enemies. But in a battle where both sides are armed with breech-loaders, we shall probably see another sort of affair altogether. The bayonet will be an almost useless addition to the soldier’s arms; a charge of cavalry upon well-armed infantry will be almost as hopeless as the famous Balaclava charge; and the artillery on either side will have to play a game at long bowls. I venture to anticipate that the first great European war will introduce a total change into the whole system of warlike manoeuvres.14

(From the Daily News, November 1868.)