The Double Gun Classic is many things, including a friendly get-together of fellow enthusiasts, good-natured rounds of skeet with vintage guns, and, hopefully, a day out in the breeze and sunshine. But the big attraction is getting to see a myriad of fine double guns in one place, usually representing the entirety of the 19th and 20th centuries to the present, from flint to newly made.
The double gun, whether you prefer your barrels stacked or horizontal, is, in my opinion, the pinnacle of gunmaking. Few hunting scenarios require an immediate third shot, and anyway, since the central-fire cartridge dominated the scene, double guns are quick to reload. While pumps and autoloaders satisfy the craving for more firepower, the double gun has never left the field, owing to its simplicity and performance. The relative rarity and exclusivity of fine double guns, often associated with high craftsmanship and history, make them a coveted choice for collectors. It is ironic that side-by-sides are deemed old-fashioned (perhaps Elmer Fudd cartoons have something to do with this), considering they are still being made, and ‘modern’ pumps and autoloaders can be over 100 years old. I prefer to think of double guns as being the best design that gunmaking reached before guns were merged with farm machinery.
There is very little extra metal or wood on a good double. William Wellington Greener maintained a gun should weigh 96 times its shot charge to best absorb the recoil and, as a double is generally intended to be carried, combine that formula with the least weight one wishes to heft around all day. Extra weight, outside of the duck blind or competition shooting, runs counter to the qualities of the double gun. The centre of balance should be close to the hinge pin, placing what feels like the weight of the gun ‘between the hands’ and giving the double gun that nimble feel, ready to point. A 12-gauge game gun should be about seven pounds in weight or a touch less. Without space-age alloys, getting to this target is quite a feat.
Some makers toyed with various means to manage weight and balance. Metal was removed where it didn’t show; barrel tubes were thinned as much as safety allowed, and ribs were lightened, sometimes swamped, or sometimes done away with altogether (pick up a Darne and have a look). Stocks could be drilled out for lightness, and barrels shortened (there was a time when 25” barrels were in vogue, for snap-style shooting). But among the more extreme efforts to reduce action weights were the bar-in-wood guns (also called bar-in-the-wood). In these, the action bar (or action flats, or water table) is much reduced to the minimum strength required, and the wood of the stock hid much or all of the action bar and sometimes the hinge itself. This invariably shows off the skill of the stocker, which must be extreme, and gives the gun the looks of a fine muzzle-loader. Not surprisingly, the bar-in-wood gun appeared during the transition between the muzzle-loading and cartridge-loading systems, when (1) muzzle-loaders were considered better-looking guns, and (2) the idea of a hinge was suspect if not heretical. Everyone was coming up with their own ideas on how to make them, decades before the industry settled on the strongest, most reliable and cost-friendly designs for larger-scale production, like the hammerless sidelock and boxlock.
Several gunmakers built their reputation on bar-in-wood guns, like Westley Richards, Thomas Horsley, and James Purdey. Wesley Richards moved on to their proprietary boxlock, and Purdey continued making bar-in-wood guns for some time; unsurprisingly, bar-in-woods were ‘best’ guns, from the extra effort and skill in making them. As far as I know, the most recent bar-in-wood guns were the James MacNaughton “skeleton” guns built on a trigger-plate action (I don’t have one; Google ‘MacNaughton’ and ‘skeleton’ and feast your eyes). The likelihood of anyone bringing back the bar-in-wood design is slim, at least at a price of less than six figures. So, we’re left to appreciate the ones that have been made.
For this year’s Double Gun Classic, I’m bringing a selection of bar-in-wood double guns from my pin-fire collection. There will be two Joseph Needham side-levers, one by John Blissett of London and one by John Rigby of Dublin; a Crofts top-lever by Reuben Hambling of Manchester; two pull-levers by Thomas Horsley of York; a Parker Field & Sons of London patent underlever; a top-lifter by William Powell of Birmingham; and two Westley Richards top-levers to top off the list. Drop by and have a look at the insane engineering and skill that went into making them.
For a taste, here is the Rigby, made around 1868. Yes, it’s a hinge gun.