Gun Engraving

[Pinfire]

I can say upfront this thread has been prompted by Canvasback’s teasing pictures of his Lindner Daly Diamond Quality Model 275 20 gauge, Londonshooter’s Henry Adkin and Merkel, and so many others that have been pictured of late. It’s time to start a thread on gun engraving.

Decorating one’s hunting weapons is amongst the oldest expressions of human art. Colouration is believed to be the oldest, but engraving is perhaps the next-oldest form of decoration on arms and can be found on weapons and hunting tools dating as far back as the Stone and Bronze Ages. From the fifteenth century onwards, it has been (and continues to be) the favoured means of decorating sporting firearms. I’ve been studying early British breech-loaders, so most of my thoughts and observations revolve around these. However, the subject and discussion of ‘gun art’ are not limited to such guns.

The breech-loader offered a larger potential surface area for metal engraving than the muzzle-loader. British tastes generally did not go for the chiselled relief engraving, flashy precious metal, bone and ivory inlays, carved stocks, and other visual distractions popular on French, German, and other Continental sporting guns. British gunmakers often used the engraving to pleasing effect within the relatively constrained and conservative boundaries of sporting tastes. The typical British gun decoration of the day was exemplified with the subtle application of scrolls of acanthus leaf, border patterns, and occasional bucolic hunting scenes. Early American-made sporting guns, at least in the higher grades, tended to follow the British example.

The acanthus-leaf scroll engraving was a forerunner of the fine rose-and-scroll or bouquet-and-scroll patterns prevalent on later Victorian and Edwardian guns and familiar on fine sporting guns today. Acanthus is a group of flowering plants common in the Mediterranean basin. The Romans and the Greeks extensively used the acanthus leaf motif in architectural decoration. Artists, carvers, engravers and sculptors continued the motif in Byzantine architecture, Medieval sculpture and wood carving, illuminated manuscripts, and Renaissance works. One can see acanthus leaf patterns almost everywhere in Victorian-era decoration. So, it is not surprising that the starting point for decorative engraving on early British breech-loaders was the acanthus leaf. Often disguised as repetitive scrolls, the more open designs show the leaves very well. When appropriately done, the effect is subtle and discreet, placing the early British breech-loaders apart from more ostentatious decoration on Continental guns.

Time for a quick sidebar on scroll terminology. In a typical scroll, the stems do not overlap. When the stems repeatedly cross over each other, the term ‘arabesque’ applies. Little scrolls along an edge are termed ‘running scrolls.’ Scrolls of just leaves are referred to as ‘foliate scroll,’ and ones with flowers are more appropriately termed ‘floriated’ scrolls. Scrollwork can be plain or have a stippled background or cross-hatched shading. Variations on scroll exist, such as German floral (‘blackleaf'’ patterns, where leaves and stems swirl or spiral instead of repetitive scrolls.

Some engraving motifs are bolder than others, with deftly hidden fantastical designs that only appear upon close inspection. The amount of surface area covered by engraving has been used as a means to judge gun quality, and in many instances, that would be an error. A lot of lesser-quality engraving is not better than a small amount of engraving by a master engraver. Some ‘Best'’guns have little to no engraving to not hide the quality of the metalwork joining and finishing. In all cases, it pays to look closely, and it is worth appreciating the skill that goes into working in an unforgiving medium, where every flaw and error is permanent.

I’m starting this thread with a look at foliate scroll. In the pictures to come, sharp eyes will see examples of running scroll, arabesques, and blackleaf, too. I will follow up at some point with game-scene engraving, a good subject on its own. And I’m hoping this will prompt the posting of innumerable examples of gun engraving of every kind, past and present. If enough folks join in the fun, it might even become a sticky.

To start, here is a John Blanch & Son of London, made around 1864. The gun has fine quality foliate scroll with some shading, with typical partial coverage on the lockplates and fuller coverage on the top strap (which has an intricate pattern). In addition to the scrollwork, the hammer noses have an attractive swan- or goose-head design, and the fences have an acanthus spray.

Below is an earlier and simpler example of foliate scroll, quite open in design and with well-defined and shaded leaves, on a Barnett pinfire, possibly from the late 1850s.

 

[skwerl]

Hey pin , your beauties always impress me , as well
as your knowledge .
thnkz.. skwerl

 

[canvasback]

Great idea for a thread Steve. Will be interested to learn more. Tomorrow I’ll post some pics of some of the engraving on a few of my guns that I find very interesting.

 

[Pinfire]

Looking forward to the pictures to come!

Here's continuing the discussion on foliate scroll.

Sporting guns have always been built to a price point, and purchasing a gun has always been a significant investment. While the amount of decoration and engraving is not always a reliable measure of cost, the engraving quality usually is. The price range between the lowest and the highest grades of sporting guns has always been considerable. When looking at very old guns, finding prices can be difficult. For the mid-1860s, we can turn to Charles Dickens, who wrote in his weekly literary journal, All The Year Round, in July 1864:

“A muzzle-loading double gun by a first-class London maker costs forty guineas; or, with its cases and all its fittings, fifty guineas. The leading provincial makers, and those of Scotland and Ireland, charge from thirty to forty pounds complete; most of their guns are, however, in reality manufactured in Birmingham, where the price of a double gun varies from twenty pounds to two pounds five shillings, or even less, according to quality. The second class London makers charge from twenty-five to thirty-five pounds, but most of their work is made at Birmingham, and only “finished” in London. … The price of breech-loading guns of best quality is five guineas more than muzzle-loaders; they are sold in Birmingham at from eight pounds to thirty pounds.”

Considering £8 as the lowest cost of a breechloader in 1864, how does that compare to wages? An engineer might make £110 a year, an army officer £200. Even at the lowest cost, that is a massive chunk out of one’s income and might take years to save towards one. A £50-£60 sporting gun is well out of reach. Shooting the early breechloaders was a rich man’s game.

So what does the engraving on an £8 gun look like? The foliate scrolls will be minimal, lacking detail, shading, and distinction. Overall, details and flourishes will be somewhat crude and artless. An example is this lockplate signed ‘Jeffrey London.’ There is no known gunmaker with this name (though several famous makers have very similar names). Adding ‘London’ to fool the unwary was a common ploy at the time. Lockplates rarely have an address as well as a name (in case you’re wondering, there were no ‘J. London’s, either).

It is not fair to compare engraving with the true London makers; it is more appropriate to compare the Jeffrey engraving with Robert Ringer of Norwich below. This gun is not a ‘Best’ by any means, though it is a quality provincial gun. The foliate scrolls are tight and even, there is a bit of shading, the border work is excellent and consistent. The pattern is evenly spaced across the lockplate surface. I particularly like the spiral detail around the rear crosspin. The Ringer is more like a £20 gun and enough of an investment that the owner had the cracked hand braced with brass strapping.

Just looking at the top straps, the comparison is again stark (even with the grubby nature of the Ringer gun, which I’ve recently acquired and not had time to clean):

The differences with the hammer decorations and shaping are also obvious.

 

[Pinfire]

There are so many famous names in gunmaking, ones that will always be associated with shooting sports. The company name ‘W & C Scott & Son’ is a case in point. Not only did they produce guns under their own name, but they also built guns for the most prominent makers, such as Purdey and Holland, and many others. They were relatively late to the breechloader party, making their first in 1865.

Like so many gun firms, it was a family business. William and Charles Scott were brothers, and they started their gun business in Birmingham in 1840. William’s sons, William Middleditch and James Charles, joined the firm early. In the 1851 census William M. (age 15) is listed as a gun finisher, and James C. (age 14) is listed as a gun engraver. In 1858 the elder son was made a partner, hence the ‘& Son.’ William M. gained fame with his invention, the Scott Spindle. Matched with James Purdey’s sliding under-bolt, it is found on most hinge-action guns today. James C. continued as a gun engraver.

The firm made W & C Scott & Son pinfire sporting guns in three qualities, A (fine), B (medium) and C (plain). Guns were graded as to the quality of materials and workmanship. The engraving was used as an indicator of the quality level:

• ‘A’ guns had full-coverage engraving.
• ‘B’ guns had 50 to 75% engraving, often with game scenes.
• ‘C’ guns had less than 50% engraving coverage.

Here is an example of a ‘C’ gun, made in 1866. I like to imagine William Charles Scott himself engraved it.

Compare the Scott ‘C’ with a lower-grade Birmingham gun by Philip Webley & Son. It dates from the late 1860s when breechloaders were dropping in price and becoming within the economic reach of the middle-class sportsman. The Webley has minimal, though artful, foliate engraving, and line borders. By contrast, the Scott has a denser, more attractive pattern, a running scroll border (line border on the top strap), and house-style hammers. And this was the Scott ‘entry-level’ gun!

In the twists of fate so common in the gun business, Philip Webley bought W & C Scott & Son in 1897, combining Birmingham’s largest producer of revolvers with its largest producer of shotguns.

Following soon will be examples of foliate scroll by the big London names, as they inched towards house engraving styles.

 

[Ashcroft]

Pinfire, that W&C Scott may not have full coverage but the quality of the engraving is exceptional for a C quality gun. I love those beautifully engraved elongated top straps on these early ( by my standards) guns. I don't have any very early examples like you have but I'll chip in later as you get into the 1870's. I can see where I'm going to need to hone my photographic skills. J.

 

[Pinfire]

The earliest breechloaders were expensive pieces, finished to a high level of workmanship. The engraving was no exception, and the London makers had access to the best engravers. Some firms developed long-standing relationships; Boss & Co. always turned to the Sumner family for engraving their Best guns – four generations worth, from the 1830s to 1939. Over time makers developed house styles of engraving. In the 1870s, James Purdey began the ‘rose and scroll’ pattern, incorporating bouquets of roses and tiny foliate scrolls, and Boss & Co. had a signature ‘five-bouquet rose and scroll’ after 1891. Holland and Holland would become known for deep foliate engraving. Some makers preferred game scenes, and several engravers became famous for such work. A few firms, such as Purdey, had in-house engravers, while the rest hired engravers as outworkers.

As perfect as scrollwork can be, here is the work of John Sumner on two different 1863-dated Boss guns. Note the lack of tiny tendrils on the outer scroll edges seen on the previous Blanch, Ringer and Scott examples. Also absent are the rosettes around the pins, an otherwise commonly employed motif, as seen on the Blanch, Barnett, 'Jeffrey,' Ringer and Webley lockplates above. The Boss lockplates are attached at the rear not by a crosspin but by a hidden inner hook, which leaves the surface clean for engraving.

Here is an 1861 Harris Holland gun from before his nephew became a partner in the firm. Already we can see the style of deep full-coverage foliate engraving for which the firm would become known. Note the twist border work and the twist pattern on the tail of the top strap.

 

[Cow Town Bill]

This is a lock plate from a Lyon & Lyon 20 ga sidelock ejector, probably made before WW1. The engraving pattern is sometimes referred to as fruiting vine. Personally, this style appeals to me.
Lyon & Lyon did not make guns and, instead, relied upon the trade. Many of their guns were marketed in India where they had an office for many years.

 

[Londonshooter]

Lovely examples, gentlemen.
Game scenes are more of a Birmingham thing vs. London. This gun is a 10 gauge from the mid-1860's, no maker on rib or side plates.

 

[Londonshooter]

This Basque gun is 100 years newer.

 

[Pinfire]

That ‘fruiting vine’ is lovely, Cow Town Bill. Londonshooter, that’s a nice contrast between typical Birmingham game scene engraving and the Continental equivalent. The Brits were very reserved in their gun decoration, while the rest put in that extra bit.

Game scenes require a good artistic touch, with no room for mistakes! I suppose we see the result of many hours of repeated experience, but still… Long ago, I used to do bird illustration work in pen-and-ink, another unforgiving medium; I can’t imagine how difficult it would be with a mallet and graver. Some high-grade vintage American shotguns have superb game scene engraving, while the cheaper grades have more cartoonish renderings – the flying turnips.

British game scenes seem to be favoured by some makers. While it is true that these scenes tend to appear on provincial guns, some prominent London makers decorated their game guns in this way, such as John Blissett, seen here on an early breechloader from @1860. Note the very fine border work.

Generally, though, few pinfire game guns were decorated in this way, with open scroll predominating in terms of engraving. Here are some attractive game scenes by provincial makers, matched with good scrollwork:

Benjamin Woodward of Birmingham, @1865-69 (Very open scroll, with Pheasant?)

Thomas Julian Watkins of Banbury, @1865-69. The lockplates have dogs, while the game birds (Godwits?) are within an oval cartouche.

Robert Watmough of Manchester, @1865-69 (Pheasant and Curlew?)

The engravers combined the use and layout of scrolls and animals differently and used attractive border patterns.

 

[Pinfire]

I shall continue my musings on gun engraving. So far, I’ve only pictured back-action locks, looking at the quality and designs of acanthus leaf scrolls, the latter of the more open type. Not surprisingly, engraving on the early breechloaders reflects a continuation of the styles developed on percussion guns. Bar locks were used on percussion guns, inlet into the wood, like the back-action locks. Using bar locks on breechloaders usually meant inletting the mainspring part into the steel action bar, a complicated process with the tools and equipment at hand. Some tasks were more straightforward with the bar lock; for instance, the lockplates on these were usually flat, unlike the subtle convex cross-section of the back-lock lockplate.

Engraving styles were at times different between the lock types. Here are three bar lock guns, with scroll engraving that seems to include everything but the kitchen sink, with open scrolls, tight scrolls, rosettes, lines, and various border patterns. The lockplates abut metal, and the joining is partly hidden (or the eye is distracted) by the engraving patterns as a result.

James Erskine of Newton Stewart, Scotland

Joseph Braddell & Son of Dublin, Ireland

William Wellington Greener of Birmingham

For comparison, the bar lock on a bar-in-wood breechloader by Thomas Horsley of York displays a more subtle running scroll as might have been found on a muzzle-loader. No metal join to hide.

 

[canvasback]

I'll leave it to others to describe and assess the quality and style of some of the engraving I'm posting here. I'm still at the stage of "I know what I like". And these are some of the engraving I have liked the best on my guns.

An early 1890's Army & Navy. Doesn't look quite as worn in real life.



A higher grade Pieper that I never should have sold. Wonderful gun.



My Manufrance Ideal 6R EE





More to come.

 

[Pinfire]

Beautiful examples, Canvasback. Excellent fine scroll on the Army & Navy, and I like the subtle shaping of the fences. The Pieper and the Idéal appear to have versions of blackleaf, also known as ‘German floral’. The Pieper is gorgeous, no error, but the Idéal is in a class of its own. The floral pattern is stunning, and the superb dogs and game are the proverbial icing on the cake. Having seen it in person, I can say it is hard for any picture to capture that particular gun’s mechanical and artistic brilliance.

Here is an early version of high relief blackleaf on a gun by Jean-Baptiste Rongé et Fils of Liège, Belgium.

Some European engravers tried to find a middle ground between European and British tastes, such as this Masu Brothers gun (@1865- 1869) built in Liège for sale in London. It is not blackleaf, nor is it a typical open scroll, but something in between.

Here is a blackleaf and game pattern on an early breechloader signed August Gottlieb Schüler of Suhl, Germany, but made by Maximilien Nicolas Colleye of Liège. A Liège gun built for the German market. The animals are crude and cartoonish compared to the flowing realism on Canvasback’s Idéal.

 

[canvasback]

Steve, I have seen other Piepers with similar levels and style of engraving. A couple near identical, as you might see with graded American guns. But none of them have come close to matching the execution of the one I had. I kick myself for selling it but the funds went towards the purchase of my Lindner Daly 12 gauge. So some good came of sending that one down the road.

The Army & Navy was a better gun than I gave it credit for. Mark Dube, a regular at the SxS Classic, was kind enough to sell it to me. And he also set me on the path of acquiring that Ideal. First by trying to sell me another, lower grade Ideal. It was just too different for me to wrap my head around at the time. But it started my fascination with them. Then, about 5 years later, he called me. “I think I have a gun you may be interested in.” I certainly was!

And the Pieper was the catalyst for the opportunity to meet Claudio. So all three guns were very important for me in my developing vintage gun journey.

 

[sillymike]

I'll leave it to others to describe and assess the quality and style of some of the engraving I'm posting here. I'm still at the stage of "I know what I like". And these are some of the engraving I have liked the best on my guns.

A higher grade Pieper that I never should have sold. Wonderful gun.



My Manufrance Ideal 6R EE


More to come.

Wow, never mind the engravings. Some very nice/interesting actions

Pinfire
- I'm always impress to see older guns that have survived this long without getting their screw-heads buggered up.


A Russian I got to thinker on this spring...

 

[Pinfire]

A Russian trigger plate action? How very intriguing. Like Belgian guns, most Russian guns encountered this side of the Atlantic are low-cost workhorses. Yet high-quality Belgian and Russian guns are second to none in workmanship and materials. Please tell us more about your gun. The engraving is attractive, I like oak leaf designs.

As to screw heads on pinfires, damage is usually due to recent attempts at cleaning, or clumsy curiosity. It was the usual habit back then to bring the guns back to the maker after a season’s shooting, for cleaning and maintenance. If there was a screw that was meant to be turned by the gun’s owner, the maker would provide the appropriate tool in the gun’s case - otherwise everything would be in the care of the maker or competent smith!

I do take great pleasure at seeing a perfectly timed screw head, well engraved. The quality of finishing can be breathtaking, and that is what we can see now, after 150+ years of wear and tear. I would dearly love to go back in time and see these guns in a ‘new’ state!

 

[canvasback]

Wow, never mind the engravings. Some very nice/interesting actions

Not sure if you realize it from the photo but the Pieper has a bite/lock up that is based on the top rib. The top rib ends slightly before the breech end of the barrels, leaving a little slot. A rib extension, attached to the top lever, slides into the slot when the gun is closed and is pulled back when the top lever is pushed to the right to open the gun.

Pieper was an inventive guy. Among his patents he’s probably best known for inventing the mono bloc. He was also the founding managing director of FN.

 

[Pinfire]

Here's a look at the engraving on conversions.

Conversions are nothing new in the history of sporting guns. Many flint-lock muzzleloaders were converted to the percussion system, and gunmakers and smiths converted many breechloading guns originally built as pinfires to the centre-fire cartridge. The amount of skilled work required to undertake such conversions is considerable. But muzzleloader-to-muzzleloader and breechloader-to-breechloader conversions are not the only ones to have been performed. In the 1850s and 1860s, efforts were made to prolong the lives of muzzleloading guns through conversion to the new breechloading system.

There were several ways to accomplish this, depending on how much of the original gun could be salvaged. One approach involved cutting the barrels at the breech plugs, chambering them for cartridges, and fitting them with fastening lumps; locks were fitted with new hammers, stocks and some stock furniture were retained, and a new action and removable fore-end fitted. In this way, much of the conversion cost would be manpower, and some gunmakers specialized in such work. Another approach used by some makers was to build new guns using returned and unsold stock as source material. All of these approaches offered savings over an entirely new breechloader, the cost of which could be prohibitive to many sportsmen.

One way to spot these conversions is to look at the engraving. If you start with a lock from a muzzleloader, you will likely have to trim the lockplate to fit it to a new action. The original engraving might not match up with the action if part of the lockplate is cut off. Or, the newer engraving style might not match with the older one. Here are some examples.

George Fuller made this muzzleloader in London in the 1840s, and someone, perhaps Fuller himself, converted it to pinfire. It might have been Fuller himself or someone with considerable skill. The artisan left behind a few clues in the engraving. You can see where the lockplate was trimmed and the rolling scroll partly obliterated (the red arrow). Also, the scrollwork on the hammer does not match the glorious foliate engraving on the lockplate.

(You can see from this Internet capture of a similarly shaped lockplate what the front edge angle would have looked like before cutting; interestingly, both Fuller and the maker of this percussion lock were once apprenticed to Joseph Manton)

In this unmarked bar-lock example below, the simple engraving appears to have been added or modified after the conversion from muzzleloading to pinfire. Fitting the locks to the breechloading action meant relocating the cross-pin (screw), to which the smith fitted a plug to the original hole to hide the change and had the border pattern engraved over it. On one side, it is nearly undetectable, while on this one, the plug has fallen out and revealed the secret. Again, the styles of engraving on the lock and the hammers do not match.

Much of this 10-bore gun started out as a pellet-lock or tube-lock gun, using the fore-runners to the copper cap. It was built by Charles Moore, a London gunmaker who is credited for inventing the ‘isolated’ or ‘bar-in-wood’ lock. In 1843 Moore went into business with his once-apprentice, James Woodward, and retired soon after. Woodward made a name for himself amongst the top London makers, and at some point converted the Moore muzzleloader to the pinfire system. The isolated locks were fitted into the breechloading action and part of the lockplates were trimmed as a result. This is shown by the break in the foliate engraving (shown by the arrow).

On the subject of conversions of pinfires to centre-fire, here is an example of where engraving helps cover up the modification work. Early breechloaders were copied from the French, and one recurring weakness in early designs is the use of very flimsy, thin breeches, seen in the form of fences that are very narrow in side-view. Have a look at the thin breech/fences on this sliding barrel action by Bastin Frères of Hermalle-sous-Argenteau, Liège, on a gun retailed by Gustave Masu in London:

With improvements in cartridges and cartridge strength, the breech areas had to be thickened and strengthened, and this happened during the 1860s so that most new pinfires were built with substantially stronger breeches. Fences took on the rounder, bulbous appearance they still have today. I will leave the subject of engraved fences for another day but look at this gun by Thomas Horsley of York. He famously did all his metalwork, including barrels, in-house. When converting the gun to centre-fire, he added a layer of steel to the breech face to strengthen it. Horsley then had the foliate scroll engraving cut over it to distract the eye from the addition.

 

[Pinfire]

Engraving on a gun is a form of decoration, and not everyone has the same tastes. Engraving is also not essential. You won’t see much decoration on a modern military weapon. In hunting guns, the standard, at least until the 20th century, has been some form of embellishment. Similar guns often have similar engraving patterns; this is not so much a personalization but a statement about the gun’s purpose and origins. I find the presence of hand engraving reassuring in some way, a reminder that competent artisans made these fine guns to a high aesthetic standard. Even a tiny amount of hand engraving warms my soul. I can’t get attached to a die-embossed generic image of the kind found on most mass-produced guns today.

But that reveals my personal preference. Many of the finest sporting guns have little hand engraving, out of choice – an interesting way to personalize one’s hunting gun! I can understand choosing not to opt for additional expense, but such costs would be negligible considering the overall purchase price. In Victorian and Edwardian times, when manpower costs were low, engraving was standard and insisting on less engraving on a fine gun would have been a special request.

An example of this less-is-more preference is this bar-in-wood sporting gun by Westley Richards of Birmingham, made as a pinfire in 1866 and later converted to centre-fire. Hardly an entry-level gun, being from a prominent maker favoured by the Prince of Wales and retailed from their prestigious London shop. It is not without some engraving, though it is minimal, and the lockplates, hammers and toplever have simple line borders.

Another example is this fine breechloader by E. M. Reilly & Co. of London, made in 1867. A well-made gun by a prominent London proponent of the pinfire system, but with almost no decoration save the simplest line border; even the hammers are left plain.

Towards the close of the 1860s, the cost of breechloaders diminished as Birmingham produced them in greater numbers. Basic guns were often marked and retailed by hardware shops and general merchants – the ‘JC Higgins’ of the day. In such entry-level guns, the lack of engraving might have been cost-related, making them even more affordable. These were not guns on which reputations were defended or maintained! An example is this gun, carrying the name of Fidele Primavesi & Sons, a high-end china, earthenware and hardware merchant operating from the Cardiff docks in Wales. The lockplates have a line border and simple rosettes, and the name of the firm is misprinted.