To save content items to your account,
please confirm that you agree to abide by our usage policies.
If this is the first time you use this feature, you will be asked to authorise Cambridge Core to connect with your account.
Find out more about saving content to .
To save content items to your Kindle, first ensure no-reply@cambridge.org
is added to your Approved Personal Document E-mail List under your Personal Document Settings
on the Manage Your Content and Devices page of your Amazon account. Then enter the ‘name’ part
of your Kindle email address below.
Find out more about saving to your Kindle.
Note you can select to save to either the @free.kindle.com or @kindle.com variations.
‘@free.kindle.com’ emails are free but can only be saved to your device when it is connected to wi-fi.
‘@kindle.com’ emails can be delivered even when you are not connected to wi-fi, but note that service fees apply.
This book describes and analyses the creation and growth of a successful technological and strategically vital manufacturing community in Britain whose story runs counter to perceptions of the general relative decline in British scientific and technological industries during the later nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. The optical munitions industry has remained largely unnoticed by historians, not least because of assumptions that its products were essentially little different from those of the general optical manufacturing sector. In fact, the optical munitions industry produced a highly specialized, increasingly sophisticated and complex group of products in response to other advancing technologies that not only influenced military and naval weapons design, but also the strategy and tactics of their use. These devices were specially designed or deliberately adapted for use in warfare and were used for a multiplicity of tasks, from observation and sighting individual weapons to controlling gunnery on land and at sea. They ranged from derivatives of the simple terrestrial telescope to highly complex and sophisticated apparatus such as the naval rangefinder and the submarine periscope, creations without which the principal strategic weapons of the First World War could not have functioned at all. This relatively small but highly specialized manufacturing sector attained a crucial degree of importance within the armaments industries so that its story adds substantially to the understanding of the performance of specialized technological manufacturing in Britain between the late nineteenth century and the mid-1920s.
Before the start of the Second Boer War in 1899, the optical instruments employed by the British armed forces had yet to be used on active service in a major war. Although the British Army had been involved in fighting in colonial campaigns throughout the second half of the century, there had been no sustained experience of action to demonstrate the effectiveness of the equipment combined with the tactics into which they fitted or, equally importantly, the ability of the domestic industry to manufacture when faced with the increases in demand typified by large-scale and sustained warfare. By the end of 1906 the British Army had been able to digest how efficiently its optical munitions performed in the Boer War and the War Office had had the opportunity to consider how well its procurement processes had worked. The emergent optical munitions industry had also been given a taste of government contracting under the urgency and pressures of wartime conditions. The Royal Navy had seen no fighting at sea and thus had experienced none of the first-hand experiences of the Army, but it continued to be the industry's more important British service client, its demands increasingly driven by a combination of factors including evolving attitudes to gunnery, improvements in ordnance and the emergence of what amounted to entirely new weapon systems in the form of the submarine and the Dreadnought battleship.
For the optical munitions industry, the signing of the armistice on 11 November 1918 came unexpectedly and, in one sense, prematurely. The effect of the cessation of fighting on Sunday, 11 November had almost immediate repercussions for its business in the form of order cancellations on what amounted to a heroic scale. This had in no way been anticipated by the industry. Irrespective of the political desire to end hostilities and the sentiments being voiced in the press, it had been very much ‘business as usual’ right up to 10 November 1918. There had been no scaling down of contracts and no warnings from the Ministry of Munitions of any imminent likelihood of cancellations. Indeed, firms were still being exhorted to step up production and new contracts were still being issued.
All the country's optical instrument manufacturers were wholly employed in the war effort and none had even begun to consider in practical terms any policies for industrial demobilization and a return to peacetime trading. Furthermore, the efforts of the Ministry's Optical Munitions and Glass Department (OMGD) to set the optical industry on a better footing had not yet reached a stage where substantial improvements in organization or infrastructure had been achieved. The pre-war optical instruments industry had been conscripted and undergone a metamorphosis into the wartime optical munitions industry with some considerable success, but nothing had been done to cater for the inevitable end of large-scale government orders.
The second stage of the optical munitions industry's war was one of large-scale industrial mobilization, a process inextricably interwoven with the policies and attitudes of the Ministry of Munitions. Its creation in the late spring of 1915 and, in particular, the setting up of a department dedicated to optical output was responsible for increasing both the volume and diversity of production between then and the end of the war in 1918. To do so, the Ministry brought into being what can be best described as a ‘conscript’ optical munitions industry which largely submerged the identity of what had existed before the war and during its first ten months. The story of this mobilization is complicated by the existence within the Ministry's Optical Munitions and Glassware Department (OMGD) of parallel aims for short-term and long-term change within the whole of Britain's optical industries. The OMGD essentially looked to replace what it presented as an outmoded, inward looking, pre-war optical instruments industry with a reconstructed one that would not only meet wartime needs but be able to secure a dominant position in the foreign markets which were optimistically expected to emerge after the defeat of Germany removed its large and diverse optical industry from the international stage. These aims were sometimes in conflict with each other, and struggled to find adequate expression within a framework of problems that were grounded in shortages of materiel and an unsatisfactory technological infrastructure.
The story of optical munitions manufacture in Britain between 1888 and 1923 has shown the evolution of a peculiar, even idiosyncratic industry whose progress was often as much governed by the state's defence policies as by its technical and commercial abilities. Although sharing many of the characteristics of the optical instruments industry, such as the computation of lens systems and the finest standards of mechanical engineering, its evolution is best understood by seeing it in the perspective of the armaments industry which provided the stimulus for the creation of almost all of its products. The crucial division between civil instrument and munitions manufacture lay not just in the nature of the products but in the nature of their clients. Armies and navies, and their exchequers, were very different to surveyors, scientists and the man in the street requiring disparate marketing methods. But despite its differences, the optical munitions sector still drew on the private sector for many of its optical techniques, raw materials and skilled workers.
The British optical munitions makers functioned in a demand-led market which was driven by evolving weapons technologies and often heavily influenced by social factors exerted by those who formulated and influenced thinking within the armed forces. The War Office's protracted indecision in choosing an artillery rangefinder between the end of the Boer War and 1914 was caused at first by the service's adherence to the concept that the greatest potential accuracy in an instrument should take precedence over the need for speed and convenience of operation.
The story of the optical munitions industry embraces not only entrepreneurship and invention, but also aspects of military technology and international politics. Running counter to the general decline of technological industries in post-Victorian Britain, optical munitions provides an important, previously overlooked, study into the business of manufacturing.
By 1914 armies and navies had become dependent on optical devices for much, and sometimes all, of their ability to use their weaponry effectively. That was particularly true for the major naval powers whose battleships and submarines were practically impotent without their rangefinders, telescopic gun sights and periscopes. Land forces were not so totally reliant but, even so, all deployed optics on an increasing scale and would have been hard pressed to counter an enemy in their absence. The seven years running up to the start of the First World War saw optical munitions production grow at an increasing rate and by 1914 a clearly identifiable sector of industry was engaged permanently in the production of such instruments which, with few exceptions, had no civil applications.
Only a small part of the optical instruments trade was engaged in this work, reflecting not just the specialized nature of what was being made but also the contemporary scale of demand for military and naval optics. That demand grew after 1907 partly because advances in optical technology permitted the creation of new instruments but even more because developments in weapons technologies and increasing political instability created a climate that encouraged European states in particular to increase their expenditure on armaments and take up equipment which increasingly depended on optical instrumentation for its effectiveness. For the first time, the British War Office became a systematic buyer of optical munitions, greatly increasing its spending in the last two years of peace.
The Second World War brought a major watershed for the jute industry and for Dundee. For Britain generally the war created a new economic and social settlement, characterized above all by a state commitment to a much more active role in securing economic welfare, and especially ‘high and stable’ employment. More narrowly, the imposition of Jute Control in 1939 gave protection to the Dundee industry for the first time. As a result of these two factors, in the decades following the war, jute's position would be negotiated with the government in a context in which protectionism was an established fact, and the removal of that protection fundamentally constrained by the political impact of any consequential unemployment in Dundee.
A New World
The new social settlement derived from the character of ‘total war’, and its impact in generating both full employment and a shift in the balance of political forces which underpinned commitments to a much greater role for government in securing popular economic and social well being. Integral to this settlement was expanded welfare provision, especially major social security expansion based on the Beveridge social insurance model, coupled with the foundation of the NHS, and the provision of free secondary education to all. Alongside that provision was a recognition that full employment was central to popular welfare, leading to the 1944 Employment Policy White Paper and policies designed to fulfil its promises.
The story of the emergence of the optical munitions industry from 1888 to 1899 is largely about the growing importance of one instrument – the rangefinder – and the influence which the state had on the emergence of an industry for the manufacture of such specialized optical devices for use in war. The state's influence was transmitted through the activities of the War Office and the Admiralty, both of whom showed a common commitment to the idea of using optical aids but differed significantly in how they organized their acquisition and deployment. These differences changed over time and were based on a number of sometimes complex issues which included technological and tactical considerations, along with other, social, factors – reflecting particular aspects of what were really two very different military societies. That assortment of disparities meant that they proceeded along very different lines in taking up optical munitions and in the way they related to the industry on which they would increasingly come to rely. The War Office, although the first mover in taking steps that might stimulate the growth of a new industry, proved to be less inclined to seek innovation and often reluctant to move forward in the adoption of new types of optical devices.
Even if the term optical munitions would have been unfamiliar to the armed forces in the 1880s, optical instruments intended to give soldiers and sailors some form of tactical advantage in warfare had been used regularly on a small scale since the seventeenth century.
Logbooks and sea charts may appear rather straightforward evidence to present at a naval court martial. However, their introduction into proceedings in the early nineteenth century reveals an important shift. Measuring the depth of water soon became a problem both of navigation and of discipline. Indeed, Captain Newcomb's knowledge of the soundings taken at the Battle of the Basque Roads proved crucial at Lord Gambier's court martial in June 1809. Through a case study of Edward Massey's sounding machine, this paper reveals the close connection between disciplinary practices on land and at sea. The Board of Longitude acted as a key intermediary in this respect. By studying land and sea together, this paper better explains the changing make-up of the British scientific instrument trade in this period. Massey is just one example of a range of new entrants, many of whom had little previous experience of the maritime world. More broadly, this paper emphasizes the role of both environmental history and material culture in the study of scientific instruments.