That Manton is gorgeous, Londonshooter. I look forward to seeing it. Anything from Joseph Manton deserves to be looked at in detail, and reverently admired. All hail the Master!
I was in a Cabela’s today, picking up a carrying case. I glanced at the display of guns as I made my way through the huge store, and it made me think about how buying guns has evolved. Nowadays, you buy from a big-box store or chain, or online from an e-store or importer. Local gun shops might have a few second-hand guns to peruse in person, but again, online transactions dominate the second-hand market, from the CGN Equipment Exchange to unnamed external sites.
Turning back the clock some 165 years, how different was the act of purchasing a gun? The picture of someone ordering a bespoke gun directly from the maker is practically a cliché. But is it accurate?
One way to order and buy a gun was indeed to visit a gunmaker’s shop, be measured or provide measurements, specify features, agree on a price, and several months later, pick it up. What was also common was to try the gun first, especially if the gunmaker had a testing range. With a fixed shooting season and several months’ lead time in which to build a gun, there were bottlenecks when orders would accumulate for delivery in time for the next season. Many sportsmen leased shooting grounds, and these leases were expensive, to say nothing of other associated costs, so not having your new gun ready in time would be a major problem. From the gunmaker’s point of view, building a gun required the up-front costs of the materials, payments to in-house workers (usually daily) and outworkers (usually by the piece of work), to say nothing of rent and other operating costs. A few might try building guns on spec, hoping someone might buy them ‘off the rack.’ While logical to our modern eyes, this involved investing time and money with uncertain return, hoping for clients with generic requirements. With profit margins very tight, building up stock in this way was risky business. A gunmaker who had no orders to fill still had to pay workers, so they often built guns or made parts for other gunmakers as a side business. This is one of the reasons the name engraved on the rib only identifies the retailer, and not necessarily the builder of the gun —that, and the fact that a gun and all of its parts went through many specialized hands before being handed to the client.
Aside from gun makers were gun dealers and gun agents. Consider these the middlemen in the shooting world. They could provide a coveted London address to Birmingham and provincial makers, without the investment in bricks and mortar. This provided access to well-heeled London clients, who could choose from a selection of gunmakers’ wares in one location, at any time of year. This could include new guns built on spec, but especially second-hand guns, for which there was a thriving market. Used guns could be had at a lesser cost; while many society gentlemen would not want to be seen penny-pinching, complaining about the cost of guns, ammunition and shooting access were dominant concerns voiced in letters and the shooting press. No one likes to pay more than they have to, and everybody loves a bargain, then as now.
Second-hand guns could be had directly from gunmakers, who might take back one of their own when selling a new gun, or could be a gun from another maker taken as a trade-in. Pawn brokers did a good amount of business, and they often took in guns as collateral or payment. Jewellers frequently had a similar client list to a top gunmaker, so many jewellers also traded in guns, new and used.
When gunmakers went out of business, through debt or the passage of time, unsold stock found its way to resale, bought up by gunmakers, gun dealers, or directly to sportsmen looking for a deal, as auctions of such stock were announced in newspapers. Here is an advertisement for the sale of a stock of guns that appeared in the 15 April 1854 issue of
The Field:
I mentioned earlier that Benjamin Cogswell started as a pawnbroker (later advertising himself as a “gun and pistol warehouse”, before declaring himself as a gunmaker). Westley Richards’s London agent was William Bishop, aka
“The Bishop of Bond Street”, who was a jeweller. Then there was Edward Whistler, a silversmith, pawnbroker, and dealer in guns and pistols at 11 Strand, London, who operated from 1844 to 1875. In 1867, his business was advertised as
“Edward Whistler, Gun and Pistol Repository,” offering new and second-hand guns from
“the most approved London makers.” Whistler was one of two London agents used by the Birmingham maker William Wellington Greener.
Whistler's advertisement in the 21 May 1853 issue of
The Field:
WW Greener gun, with the address of Edward Whistler (11 Strand):
The gunmaker of greatest interest to me is Joseph Lang, because of his importance to the pin-fire story. Lang started his apprenticeship in 1812 when he was 14 years old, to William Henry Wilson or Alexander Wilson, at Wilson's Gun and Pistol Warehouse at 1 Vigo Lane, London. Lang became manager of William Henry Wilson's gun dealing business at some time, probably in about 1820, when he would have been 21 years old. By 1823, Lang started to trade as
“Joseph Lang, Gun and Pistol Repository” at 7 Haymarket. In May 1826, Lang bought the bankrupt stock of Joseph Manton, and in September 1826, he again advertised the fact that he was the only gun dealer in London who did not deal in “Birmingham and other Country-made guns”, an interesting insight into the London trade at the time. In 1828, Joseph Lang married James Purdey's daughter Eliza, further cementing his links with the top gunmaking world; at that time Lang finally described himself as a gun maker, and in 1852 the firm moved to 22 Cockspur Street, Charing Cross, one year (possibly two) before he started making his pin-fire gun.
William Westley Richards was born in 1788. He was the son of Theophilus Richards, a gunmaker and silver gun furniture maker, formerly of High Street and John Street, Birmingham, who himself was descended from a large and wealthy family of gunmakers, silversmiths, jewellers, cutlers, and merchants. In 1815, Richards appointed William Bishop, of 170 New Bond Street, as his London agent. Bishop had done gold and silver inlay work for several London gunmakers and, from about 1800, gold and platinum lined touch holes for John and Joseph Manton. From 1823 to 1825 William Bishop was in partnership with John Wicks, trading as Wicks & Bishop, jewellers, goldsmiths and sword cutlers, also gun and pistol warehousemen. Richards probably gave him guns to work on and Bishop probably sold some of them and thus became William Westley's London agent. From 1826, street directories recorded the firm of Westley Richards as the occupant of 170 New Bond Street. William Bishop died in 1871; for the next two years a sign in the window of the shop at 170 New Bond Street stated
“Westley Richards (Minus Agent).”
Early Westley Richards, note William Bishop named on the label:
Guns could also be bought from hardware stores and general merchants. Guns might be built at a nameless Birmingham work bench, to be sold by a hardware shop (known then as ironmongers). Such guns were usually the lowest-cost ones, and often had spurious names and addresses, such as this fake Jeffery (marked
“Jeffrey London”):
General merchants included outfitters one might find at the docks, selling to those shipping out, as well as more ‘department store’ merchants. I just covered one of the latter, Scholefield, Goodman & Sons, few days ago. Of the former, a good example is Fidele Primavesi of Cardiff, Wales, a general china, hardware and leatherware merchant. An immigrant born in Italy in 1839, he settled in Cardiff around 1850 and built up his business there and eventually to Swansea, Newport, and London. The business was initially named Primavesi & Son, changing to Primavesi & Sons, and it was active until 1915. He sold anything a person might need, from nautical instruments to Welsh and Staffordshire pottery, carriages and serviceable arms, and much more. As a well-to-do merchant and high-society personage, he did not live in a cramped gunmaker's shop, but rather in a grand mansion, Pen-y-Lan House, which cost £5000 to build, a considerable sum in those days. The coal trade was the primary source of commercial prosperity for Cardiff, and in 1881 the 250-ft cargo steamship named the SS Fidele Primavesi was launched to carry coal – a pretty good indication of the influence and regard the man held in the business community. Here is one of his guns, a 16-bore.The top rib is signed
“F. Primavisi & Sons Cardiff” (note the different spelling of the family name), and the back-action locks are signed
“F. Primavisi & Sons.” While some trade goods marked Primavisi are known, what is unclear is whether this is an alternate spelling, or an engraver's misprint not worth the time and money to correct.
Here is a more common example of his wares, his stamp on some pottery: