The allure of the British gun
- Thread starter Pinfire
- Start date
Londonshooter
CGN frequent flyer
- Location
- SW Ontario
An English gun by W. Richards may be real, just not Westley but rather another gunmaker with surname Richards. A Belgian Richards is a different story. Also "J. Manton & Co" (Pieper, Belgium) although "Manton and Co." without the 'J' was a genuine company based in Calcutta, originally operated by a Manton nephew (but they were retailers, not makers - along the lines of Army and Navy CSL)
Londonshooter, the name Westley Richards always raises red flags for me, so I focus on details, especially details that would NOT be reproduced on a spurious gun. More red flags: higher-end WR's had island locks, and WR's name on the lock plate was usually near the upper edge, and not the lower edge. The wood looks slightly refinished, though not overly so. There might also be some shrinkage, so probably not a 'best.' Drop points on the stock are not typical for a WR, but not unheard of.
Now, to the positives. The engraving style looks correct. The scroll-ended trigger guard is a nice 'extra', and fakes usually don't have extras. The same goes for the cheek piece. The slightly shorter front trigger is absolutely correct, as are the flat-sided hammers that WR favoured. The hammers are also nicely and correctly shaped, the kind of trouble counterfeiters don't do. The name in gothic script is not typical, but not unheard of in WR guns. I quite like it, and again, not something that would appear on a fake. It is indeed Westley (I had to convert your picture to a negative to see it clearly). Flat-topped chequering is correct. My guess? It is a real Westley Richards (huzzah!), mid-grade as it has some extra features, and much of the gun might have been outsourced, hence the slightly different stock work, engraving etc. Once in the hand, I would race to remove the barrels and look under them for the initials w.r., which I believe went on all his guns, and the proofs should be Birmingham, not London, if I'm not mistaken. WR had two separate serial numbering systems, so the serial number for a 1840s gun should either be in the 800-1500 range or so, or 4500-6900; the highest number for WR muzzle-loaders was 3030 or 6920, depending on the numbering system used (up until 1860 or so). You probably have a copy of Nigel Brown's book; if not, let me know the number to get a better date. No serial number, or something wildly out of sequence with these numbers, would not be a good sign!
I think you lucked on a good find, probably overlooked by many.
Londonshooter
CGN frequent flyer
- Location
- SW Ontario
So you heard about this guy before?
Londonshooter
CGN frequent flyer
- Location
- SW Ontario
There may not be a serial #. At least that is what the ad description said - and little else other than brief condition report of P/F. Bore diameter close to 16 bore, pits, 30" barrels. No mention of proofs. No photo of the barrel undersides.
The waiting is part of the fun I guess. Temporarily a mystery but I will be surprised if there is truly no serial #. Just can't know yet.
Thanks to Pinfire for the guide above to help identify the real article.
The waiting is part of the fun I guess. Temporarily a mystery but I will be surprised if there is truly no serial #. Just can't know yet.
Thanks to Pinfire for the guide above to help identify the real article.
My purpose in starting this rambling thread is not to convince anyone about the superiority of British guns and gunmaking. If I praise them above others, it is because of ‘ownership bias’; I have more British guns than anything else. I’ve also been researching British gunmaking for close to three decades, so I know more about how they were made and how designs came about than for any other country’s guns. While I try to read all I can, there is only so much to be found on other European sporting gun makers, and American gunmaking is more a study in factory production and streamlined assembly, rather than artisanal craftsmanship (with exceptions). I've stuck to British guns.
What I’m trying to pin down is the allure of British guns – why and how. French guns have always been more clever, German guns, stronger, and both of these are known for outside-the-box thinking (think sliding breeches and trigger-plate actions). Where other countries have excelled, it is often by copying British designs (think hammerless sidelocks and boxlocks). I suppose British gunmakers have taken the best parts of everyone’s ideas, added a few blistering insights and game-changing developments, and come up with sporting-gun perfection – at least until the repeating gun evened the score, mostly by being more affordable and cheaper to make. A factory-built repeater will always be cheaper to buy/produce than a regulated double gun that requires more time, materials, and inspection/input to finish. Simple economics means there will be a greater demand for cheaper guns than expensive ones, more so when it comes to extremely expensive ones. Repeaters will always outnumber good-quality doubles.
As the thread moves along (11,700 views as of today!), I hope I’m shedding some light on some of the factors that make British guns desirable. Yes, Britain once ruled the world in commerce and might, dominating trade whether you liked it or not. The weird symbiosis of rich moneyed classes obsessed with blood sports, and skilled tradesmen/craftsmen who worked at their benches, resulted in game guns of stunning beauty and perfection. The styles and innovations evolved, eventually trickling down to affordable, everyday guns, which is good news for us. The guns can show great decoration, attention to detail, obsessiveness about weight and balance, and perhaps best of all, give us cracking good stories. Sporting guns are social objects, and reflect a lot about social norms, standards, etiquette, working conditions, social stratification, land management, and conservation thinking. Georgian guns differ from Victorian guns, which in turn differ from Edwardian guns, and these are distinct from pre- and post-WW2 guns. Not just in technology, but in their use, purpose, and ownership.
I admit, the guns I picture here are old, beyond-outdated, and probably not likely to ever go back into the field (oops, did I just describe myself?). To some of you who have recently joined CGN or just found this subforum, you might have never seen a pin-fire game gun; so many gun books devote fewer than two sentences to the pin-fire, if mentioned at all. An evolutionary blip lasting a few years, now long forgotten.
But let’s not kid ourselves. 21st-century shooting is not all phasers and blasters. Using chemicals to detonate gunpowder started in 1805, as we said good-bye to flint. Primers started about 1818, leading to the percussion cap. The hinge-action cartridge gun has remained little changed since 1835. Guns using centre-fire cartridges first appeared in 1853 (I shoot one of these). Smokeless nitro powder was first mentioned as used in sporting guns in 1856. If you ignore Pauly’s gun of 1812 and Needham’s needle gun (1852), the first hammerless double was Murcott’s of 1871. Joseph Needham patented the first split extractor, ejector and barrel cocking action in 1874, paving the way for the hammerless sidelock ejector, the acme of sporting guns. In 1875, Anson & Deeley patented the boxlock, so every boxlock today is a clone. Christopher Spencer invented the pump shotgun in 1881, and the pump was made infinitely better with John Browning’s 1893 design. Browning’s Auto-5 long-recoil repeater was designed in 1898. Boss & Co. introduced the over/under in 1909 (and just about every Beretta over/under is a clone of the Boss fastening system). The first gas auto-loader was put on the market in 1953, which is still before I was born. Much of what we shoot today was refined and improved over time, while remaining largely faithful to its distant roots.
Some call me a Fudd because I use and enjoy old guns; however, the designs in your gun cabinets are not exactly new, are they?
No posts without pictures! Here is a pin-fire game gun from a British maker specializing in martial arms on contract to the War Department, but who also dabbled in sporting guns, Benjamin Woodward. Woodward began as a gunmaker in 1838, and in 1840 he relocated his business to 10 Whittall Street in Birmingham's Gun Quarter, an address he maintained until 1883. In the 1841 census, Benjamin was described as a gunmaker, and two of his sons, Frederick and Benjamin, then both 15, were listed as gunmakers' apprentices. The younger Benjamin quit his apprenticeship, and another son, Henry, was taken into the business. In 1842, the firm became Benjamin Woodward & Sons. The firm is best known for producing military arms, notably the .577 three-band 1853 Enfield rifle-musket. Benjamin Woodward was also one of the Birmingham Small Arms Co. (BSA) founders in 1861, “a company to make guns by machinery,” an effort to compete with Enfield in the production of military arms. In addition to the main business of government contracts, Benjamin Woodward & Sons continued to make a small number of hand-made sporting guns. I should point out that there is no family connection to the more famous James Woodward of the London gun trade.
The gun shown here is a 12-bore double-bite screw grip rotary-underlever pin-fire sporting gun, serial number 134, made some time after 1863. The 29 13/16" damascus barrels have Birmingham proofs and barrel maker's marks “C.H.,” for the Birmingham barrel maker Charles Hawkesford of Court, 2 Summer Lane. Other marks include “B.W.” for Benjamin Woodward, suggesting he worked on the gun himself. The upper rib is signed “B. Woodward & Sons Makers to the War Department No. 134,” reflecting the firm's main area of business, and the low serial number is in keeping with the very small number of sporting arms the firm produced (I recently obtained gun no. 152, also a pin-fire, but in relic condition). The back-action locks are signed “B. Woodward & Sons” and have game scenes on both lock plates. The foliate scroll engraving on the action body is quite pleasant, with attractive starburst patterns around the pin holes. The game scenes on the lock plates are particularly well-executed. The gun still has mirror bores and weighs 6 lb 12 oz.
As long as the viewership creeps along, I will keep hitting the keyboard and posting. When interest wanes, I'll call it a day.
What I’m trying to pin down is the allure of British guns – why and how. French guns have always been more clever, German guns, stronger, and both of these are known for outside-the-box thinking (think sliding breeches and trigger-plate actions). Where other countries have excelled, it is often by copying British designs (think hammerless sidelocks and boxlocks). I suppose British gunmakers have taken the best parts of everyone’s ideas, added a few blistering insights and game-changing developments, and come up with sporting-gun perfection – at least until the repeating gun evened the score, mostly by being more affordable and cheaper to make. A factory-built repeater will always be cheaper to buy/produce than a regulated double gun that requires more time, materials, and inspection/input to finish. Simple economics means there will be a greater demand for cheaper guns than expensive ones, more so when it comes to extremely expensive ones. Repeaters will always outnumber good-quality doubles.
As the thread moves along (11,700 views as of today!), I hope I’m shedding some light on some of the factors that make British guns desirable. Yes, Britain once ruled the world in commerce and might, dominating trade whether you liked it or not. The weird symbiosis of rich moneyed classes obsessed with blood sports, and skilled tradesmen/craftsmen who worked at their benches, resulted in game guns of stunning beauty and perfection. The styles and innovations evolved, eventually trickling down to affordable, everyday guns, which is good news for us. The guns can show great decoration, attention to detail, obsessiveness about weight and balance, and perhaps best of all, give us cracking good stories. Sporting guns are social objects, and reflect a lot about social norms, standards, etiquette, working conditions, social stratification, land management, and conservation thinking. Georgian guns differ from Victorian guns, which in turn differ from Edwardian guns, and these are distinct from pre- and post-WW2 guns. Not just in technology, but in their use, purpose, and ownership.
I admit, the guns I picture here are old, beyond-outdated, and probably not likely to ever go back into the field (oops, did I just describe myself?). To some of you who have recently joined CGN or just found this subforum, you might have never seen a pin-fire game gun; so many gun books devote fewer than two sentences to the pin-fire, if mentioned at all. An evolutionary blip lasting a few years, now long forgotten.
But let’s not kid ourselves. 21st-century shooting is not all phasers and blasters. Using chemicals to detonate gunpowder started in 1805, as we said good-bye to flint. Primers started about 1818, leading to the percussion cap. The hinge-action cartridge gun has remained little changed since 1835. Guns using centre-fire cartridges first appeared in 1853 (I shoot one of these). Smokeless nitro powder was first mentioned as used in sporting guns in 1856. If you ignore Pauly’s gun of 1812 and Needham’s needle gun (1852), the first hammerless double was Murcott’s of 1871. Joseph Needham patented the first split extractor, ejector and barrel cocking action in 1874, paving the way for the hammerless sidelock ejector, the acme of sporting guns. In 1875, Anson & Deeley patented the boxlock, so every boxlock today is a clone. Christopher Spencer invented the pump shotgun in 1881, and the pump was made infinitely better with John Browning’s 1893 design. Browning’s Auto-5 long-recoil repeater was designed in 1898. Boss & Co. introduced the over/under in 1909 (and just about every Beretta over/under is a clone of the Boss fastening system). The first gas auto-loader was put on the market in 1953, which is still before I was born. Much of what we shoot today was refined and improved over time, while remaining largely faithful to its distant roots.
Some call me a Fudd because I use and enjoy old guns; however, the designs in your gun cabinets are not exactly new, are they?
No posts without pictures! Here is a pin-fire game gun from a British maker specializing in martial arms on contract to the War Department, but who also dabbled in sporting guns, Benjamin Woodward. Woodward began as a gunmaker in 1838, and in 1840 he relocated his business to 10 Whittall Street in Birmingham's Gun Quarter, an address he maintained until 1883. In the 1841 census, Benjamin was described as a gunmaker, and two of his sons, Frederick and Benjamin, then both 15, were listed as gunmakers' apprentices. The younger Benjamin quit his apprenticeship, and another son, Henry, was taken into the business. In 1842, the firm became Benjamin Woodward & Sons. The firm is best known for producing military arms, notably the .577 three-band 1853 Enfield rifle-musket. Benjamin Woodward was also one of the Birmingham Small Arms Co. (BSA) founders in 1861, “a company to make guns by machinery,” an effort to compete with Enfield in the production of military arms. In addition to the main business of government contracts, Benjamin Woodward & Sons continued to make a small number of hand-made sporting guns. I should point out that there is no family connection to the more famous James Woodward of the London gun trade.
The gun shown here is a 12-bore double-bite screw grip rotary-underlever pin-fire sporting gun, serial number 134, made some time after 1863. The 29 13/16" damascus barrels have Birmingham proofs and barrel maker's marks “C.H.,” for the Birmingham barrel maker Charles Hawkesford of Court, 2 Summer Lane. Other marks include “B.W.” for Benjamin Woodward, suggesting he worked on the gun himself. The upper rib is signed “B. Woodward & Sons Makers to the War Department No. 134,” reflecting the firm's main area of business, and the low serial number is in keeping with the very small number of sporting arms the firm produced (I recently obtained gun no. 152, also a pin-fire, but in relic condition). The back-action locks are signed “B. Woodward & Sons” and have game scenes on both lock plates. The foliate scroll engraving on the action body is quite pleasant, with attractive starburst patterns around the pin holes. The game scenes on the lock plates are particularly well-executed. The gun still has mirror bores and weighs 6 lb 12 oz.
As long as the viewership creeps along, I will keep hitting the keyboard and posting. When interest wanes, I'll call it a day.
Well, dang. I've just caught my second bout of Lyme Disease. F%&@ing ticks. And just when I was getting back to normal. All praise to antibiotics, is all I can say. As I take a break from facing the diabolical little critters outside, I might as well continue this thread, and the subject of how military and sporting-gun making could be linked.
Britain in the 19th century was a great military and colonial power, and the gunmaking world wanted in on the lucrative business this created, for military and trade guns. The government’s gunmaking facility at Enfield was insufficient to supply all needs, leaving a significant amount of contract work for parts and whole guns, built to government specifications. From a business standpoint, what is going to be more lucrative, building 10,000 muskets or 10 sporting guns? Of course, for a single company to build up the physical capacity to perform volume work required a large number of daily-paid skilled workers, powered machinery (usually water- or steam-powered), and sufficient floor space, all of which represented a significant investment and high operating costs. These were usually well beyond the means or capacity of most gunmaking firms, who, in mid-Victorian times, still built sporting guns with hand tools. The dispersed nature of the industry meant that a lot of work could be done by individual Birmingham workshops, at least for parts, locks, etc., which could keep small operators going during the times of year when sporting guns were not in demand. The Brits did not conceive of assembly lines for making guns; the Americans were first to do so, and would eventually export this manufacturing advance to the rest of the world. Instead, it was a lot of small workbenches making a lot of parts and individual assembly, adding up to big numbers. Just about everyone in a town like Birmingham was involved in some way, sort of like how China makes iPhones today.
Some gunmakers banded together to form cooperatives, combining their forces, talent, and capacity to meet government needs. I’ve already given the example of John Dent Goodman and BSA, and Benjamin Woodward, whose first priority was fulfilling War Department contracts and who put together the occasional sporting gun. Another large-scale military provider who inexplicably built a small number of sporting guns was John Edward Barnett. He established his firm in London in 1796, and by 1842 it was recorded as John Edward Barnett & Sons. Barnett's guns were usually marked “Barnett,” and flint and percussion trade guns were supplied to the North American fur trade (notably to the Hudson's Bay Company and the North West Company). Barnett was the most prolific of English manufacturers associated with the American Confederacy, having made and sold thousands of Pattern 1853 Enfield Rifle-Muskets and P-1856 cavalry carbines, as well as refurbishing some 30,000 earlier P-1839 and P-1842 muskets and P-1851 rifles for their use. With such a profitable business in martial and trade arms, you wouldn't think Barnett would bother with the tiny sporting gun market – but they did, though their sporting guns are rarely recorded. Perhaps with the emergence of the pin-fire breech-loader in the 1850s, the firm saw an opportunity to expand its trade? In practice, it never did go in that direction.
The gun pictured here is a 12-bore signed ‘Barnett,’ featuring a single-bite forward under-lever action and a rising stud, which was directly copied from the Parisian gunmaker Beatus Beringer. The action bar is signed “Joseph Brazier.” Joseph Brazier was a gunlock maker and gun and pistol maker at The Ashes, Brickkiln Street, Wolverhampton, from at least 1827, and in the 1861 census he was listed as a master gunmaker employing 70 men and 20 boys. His firm might have provided Barnett the barrelled action and the locks, or Brazier might have made the entire gun to Barnett’s wishes. The gun has seen hard use, but is in generally good order for what may be an 1850s-dated pin-fire. I still can’t quite comprehend why this gun even exists, why one of the largest military and trade-gun suppliers would bother making, or commission to make, a sporting gun at the very beginning of breech-loaders in Britain. And if you’re going to make just a few of these (as to my knowledge this is the only known Barnett pin-fire), it will be in competition with makers who have excellent, hard-earned reputations in the sporting community. Why even bother? No answers to these questions, yet.
Later, once gunmakers had their own factories, they could be called upon by the government in times of war. A notable example is Holland & Holland, which refined Enfield-built Lee-Enfield rifles into sniper versions and manufactured sights and telescopic sight mounts for the war effort.
Britain in the 19th century was a great military and colonial power, and the gunmaking world wanted in on the lucrative business this created, for military and trade guns. The government’s gunmaking facility at Enfield was insufficient to supply all needs, leaving a significant amount of contract work for parts and whole guns, built to government specifications. From a business standpoint, what is going to be more lucrative, building 10,000 muskets or 10 sporting guns? Of course, for a single company to build up the physical capacity to perform volume work required a large number of daily-paid skilled workers, powered machinery (usually water- or steam-powered), and sufficient floor space, all of which represented a significant investment and high operating costs. These were usually well beyond the means or capacity of most gunmaking firms, who, in mid-Victorian times, still built sporting guns with hand tools. The dispersed nature of the industry meant that a lot of work could be done by individual Birmingham workshops, at least for parts, locks, etc., which could keep small operators going during the times of year when sporting guns were not in demand. The Brits did not conceive of assembly lines for making guns; the Americans were first to do so, and would eventually export this manufacturing advance to the rest of the world. Instead, it was a lot of small workbenches making a lot of parts and individual assembly, adding up to big numbers. Just about everyone in a town like Birmingham was involved in some way, sort of like how China makes iPhones today.
Some gunmakers banded together to form cooperatives, combining their forces, talent, and capacity to meet government needs. I’ve already given the example of John Dent Goodman and BSA, and Benjamin Woodward, whose first priority was fulfilling War Department contracts and who put together the occasional sporting gun. Another large-scale military provider who inexplicably built a small number of sporting guns was John Edward Barnett. He established his firm in London in 1796, and by 1842 it was recorded as John Edward Barnett & Sons. Barnett's guns were usually marked “Barnett,” and flint and percussion trade guns were supplied to the North American fur trade (notably to the Hudson's Bay Company and the North West Company). Barnett was the most prolific of English manufacturers associated with the American Confederacy, having made and sold thousands of Pattern 1853 Enfield Rifle-Muskets and P-1856 cavalry carbines, as well as refurbishing some 30,000 earlier P-1839 and P-1842 muskets and P-1851 rifles for their use. With such a profitable business in martial and trade arms, you wouldn't think Barnett would bother with the tiny sporting gun market – but they did, though their sporting guns are rarely recorded. Perhaps with the emergence of the pin-fire breech-loader in the 1850s, the firm saw an opportunity to expand its trade? In practice, it never did go in that direction.
The gun pictured here is a 12-bore signed ‘Barnett,’ featuring a single-bite forward under-lever action and a rising stud, which was directly copied from the Parisian gunmaker Beatus Beringer. The action bar is signed “Joseph Brazier.” Joseph Brazier was a gunlock maker and gun and pistol maker at The Ashes, Brickkiln Street, Wolverhampton, from at least 1827, and in the 1861 census he was listed as a master gunmaker employing 70 men and 20 boys. His firm might have provided Barnett the barrelled action and the locks, or Brazier might have made the entire gun to Barnett’s wishes. The gun has seen hard use, but is in generally good order for what may be an 1850s-dated pin-fire. I still can’t quite comprehend why this gun even exists, why one of the largest military and trade-gun suppliers would bother making, or commission to make, a sporting gun at the very beginning of breech-loaders in Britain. And if you’re going to make just a few of these (as to my knowledge this is the only known Barnett pin-fire), it will be in competition with makers who have excellent, hard-earned reputations in the sporting community. Why even bother? No answers to these questions, yet.
Later, once gunmakers had their own factories, they could be called upon by the government in times of war. A notable example is Holland & Holland, which refined Enfield-built Lee-Enfield rifles into sniper versions and manufactured sights and telescopic sight mounts for the war effort.
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Despite the best intentions, hunting is never without risk to person and canine collaborators. Between mosquitos and ticks carrying all manner of pathogens, one has to be careful lest the hunter become the hunted. I hope your recovery is total and quick. I'll say no more, lest it serves to distract from the subject of this superb thread.
Hey, Straightshooter, I welcome distractions, questions, disagreements, and even the occasional troll, if it means input to keep things interesting to CGN readers (they can’t all be dropping in by mistake). Otherwise, I risk meandering on my merry way, going this way and that on the keyboard, as I explore what makes British guns interesting to me, and hopefully others. I just don’t want to outlast my welcome in a subforum not devoted to older guns.
Firstly, though, I should finish up my thoughts on the overlap between military production and sporting guns, or rather, the reason it was so rare with British sporting gun makers. I put it down to a difference in ethos. I admit, military production and building game guns are both commercial activities, motivated by currency. No one was in it for higher principles, or art. Just like William Shakespeare was motivated to write his works for the money and putting food on the table, not to create future university course material. Military production was aimed at producing the best gun for the absolutely cheapest price, robust enough to withstand constant abuse, and simple enough to be used by unskilled and uneducated soldiery. And built in the tens of thousands of units. Weight considerations, balance, and line flow were discarded in favour of ease of production, and other factors. Some trade guns could be well built, and some were destined to be local gifts and decorated accordingly, all taken into account by bean counters measuring investment against return. To the makers, there was no competition of ideas, as patterns and jigs were to be closely followed. It didn’t mean interchangeability of parts between guns, at least not at first, though it was close.
Sporting guns were built to a different philosophy. Built one at a time, to varying levels of cost according to different classes of clients. Each was a one-off, even if closely resembling others by the same hands. A cognitive dissonance-inducing approach of minimum strength and maximum fragility delivering strongish-yet-lightweight, perfectly balanced bird killing machines; two shots were the standard, even. Seriously, the military wasn’t entrusted with more than single-shots until 1889, with the Lee-Metford rifle. And sporting guns were decorated with fine chequering, engraved steel, carved flourishes, and finished with discreet silver, gold, and horn accents. Being delicate and complex, they required care and maintenance. Just like car dealerships today make substantial profits with post-sale repairs and service, gunmakers and gunsmiths in the 19th century regularly serviced their clients’ guns. There was a reason a gun case might only include at most one turnscrew (a more genteel and accurate term than screwdriver), sized for a specific screw and no other, to allow for only limited self-maintenance; the rest required a professional’s hand. By the way, one uses a turnscrew to turn pins. Ah, the illogicism of British gun terminology...
Change of subject. It might be possible to build an iPhone by oneself, with time, tools and determination. But you wouldn’t do it at the same cost as Apple, which employs the equivalent of a small city of specialized workers to build them in quantity. In the same vein, a small gunmaker might be able to build a few guns from raw materials, but couldn’t compete monetarily with the combined hundreds of Birmingham workshops making parts and building guns, and the importation of barrel tubes by the thousands. For a small village maker/smith, it made more sense to buy from Birmingham partly-built or even finished guns complete with their name on them, for the sake of their relatively small clientele, and make their money on repairs and seasonal maintenance, and selling powder, cartridges etc as a regular mainstay -- we all know that feeding a gun can end up being more costly than the purchase price! Many London-based makers also did the same. This explains why so many ‘gunmakers’ have been recorded (like the 900+ names on my list of potential pin-fire makers).
Which, in turn, begs the question, recorded by whom? We are fortunate to have remarkable directories of gunmakers and gun-related workers. Nigel Brown’s three-volume British Gunmakers is perhaps the best, a substantial step up from his earlier London Gunmakers. Geoffrey Boothroyd’s Boothroyd’s Revised Directory of British Gunmakers is essential. De Witt Bailey and Douglas A. Nie’s English Gunmakers is a bit dated but nevertheless worthy, as is the list in Richard Akehurst's Game Guns and Rifles, Percussion to Hammerless Ejector in Britain. Douglas Tate’s Birmingham Gunmakers offers additional detail. For slightly earlier histories, Howard L. Blackmore’s Gunmakers of London 1350-1850 is also valuable. I’m not counting here the individual written histories of specific gunmakers, like the marvellous books by Donald Dallas, but these are also important references and sources of information. Then, there is The Internet Gun Club Database, a wonderful online resource. Also available online is the UK Census information, covering the period from 1841 to 1911, a remarkable tool for identifying anyone who worked in gunmaking in some capacity. Most towns had commercial directories, another source of date and address information. Yet despite all these impressive resources, some gunmakers fell through the cracks and remained unnoticed by later researchers and historians, with new addresses and histories turning up from time to time. I previously mentioned George Fuller’s unrecorded address, which appeared on one of his guns. Here is an account of one unnoticed gunmaker, who might have remained unrecorded as a Manchester maker had it not been for his premises blowing up (!), newspapers to cover it, and the gun below.
This is a curious one, a 12-bore bar-in-wood (!) with machine-made damascus barrels (?), with a most obscure action design from a little-known Birmingham maker (??), and built/retailed by the least-known brother of a large multi-generational gunmaking family, all of which operated from the other end of the country (???). The first breech-loaders were all experimental in their way, some more than others. This one is unusual in having a top lever action which isn’t the W&C Scott design. It fastens the barrel with a small rotating cam bolt engaging a single bite, which is not very strong compared with later formulations. The top lever is quite long and, while effective, it does not feel as solid as other top-lever guns of the period, such as those by Westley Richards. It is the design of the Birmingham gunmaker John Crofts, who received a patent for it on 11 April 1866. Very little is known about this maker, and John Crofts went out of business in 1868, so the action was likely to have been made at some time between these dates. This is one of a number of obscure snap-actions that appeared in the 1860s and quickly disappeared, as most were variations on the same designs, or they simply didn't catch on and gain popular use. Whether the gun was entirely made by Crofts, or the action sold in the white, remains unknown.
Crofts is not the name inscribed on the rib and locks. The rib carries the address “27 New Bailey St. Salford Manchester,” and the locks the name “Hambling.” This is confusing, as the name “Hambling” does not appear in any of the gunmaker references for Manchester. The Hambling gunmakers in Blackawton, Devon, include the father, William Bartlett Hambling, and his seven sons: William Baker, James, John, Charles George, Hiram Bartlett, Henry, and Reuben. Reuben Hambling is known to have been in business on his own in 1858 in Brighton, and at some point he moved to the North of England; from genealogical information, Reuben Hambling was in Manchester in the period when this gun passed through his hands, as his daughter, Fanny, was born there in 1869. Reuben was the only member of the Hambling family known to have made guns in Manchester.
We know he made guns there, as on 14 Oct 1865, the local newspaper The Bury Times published a small article titled “Gunpowder Explosion in Salford.” The article went on: “On Saturday evening, about half-past seven o'clock, two lads went into the shop of Mr. R. Hambling, gunsmith, Bexley-street, near the Salford Town Hall, to buy a pennyworth of gunpowder. An old man, named Cadden, was serving them out of a small canister, when by a mishap the gaslight from a bracket near the counter ignited the powder, which exploded. The canister contained about one and a half pound. The effect of the explosion was signally destructive. The contents of the shop window, guns and powder flasks, with the window frame and shutters, were all swept into the street. The lads and shopman were burned on the face and hands, but their injuries were not serious.” As there are both a New Bailey Street and a New Bexley Street in Salford, there is no way of knowing if the newspaper made an error or if Reuben Hambling moved from one location to another. He didn’t stay long in Manchester and later worked for the large firm of E. M. Reilly & Co. in London, finally moving to Ashford, in Kent. Reuben Hambling died in 1891.
The gun has 30-inch Birmingham-proofed barrels. The barrels also carry the mark "Roses Patent.” The Rose Brothers (of Hales-Owen Mills & Forge) were barrel makers located in Halesowen, Worcestershire, operating between 1860 and 1892, and well-known for making barrel tubes using a patented method for machine-production of damascus barrels, a subject worthy of a separate discussion. The action flats are signed “Crofts Patent,” the top-lever return spring is now weak, and the gun weighs 7 lb 11 oz.
Firstly, though, I should finish up my thoughts on the overlap between military production and sporting guns, or rather, the reason it was so rare with British sporting gun makers. I put it down to a difference in ethos. I admit, military production and building game guns are both commercial activities, motivated by currency. No one was in it for higher principles, or art. Just like William Shakespeare was motivated to write his works for the money and putting food on the table, not to create future university course material. Military production was aimed at producing the best gun for the absolutely cheapest price, robust enough to withstand constant abuse, and simple enough to be used by unskilled and uneducated soldiery. And built in the tens of thousands of units. Weight considerations, balance, and line flow were discarded in favour of ease of production, and other factors. Some trade guns could be well built, and some were destined to be local gifts and decorated accordingly, all taken into account by bean counters measuring investment against return. To the makers, there was no competition of ideas, as patterns and jigs were to be closely followed. It didn’t mean interchangeability of parts between guns, at least not at first, though it was close.
Sporting guns were built to a different philosophy. Built one at a time, to varying levels of cost according to different classes of clients. Each was a one-off, even if closely resembling others by the same hands. A cognitive dissonance-inducing approach of minimum strength and maximum fragility delivering strongish-yet-lightweight, perfectly balanced bird killing machines; two shots were the standard, even. Seriously, the military wasn’t entrusted with more than single-shots until 1889, with the Lee-Metford rifle. And sporting guns were decorated with fine chequering, engraved steel, carved flourishes, and finished with discreet silver, gold, and horn accents. Being delicate and complex, they required care and maintenance. Just like car dealerships today make substantial profits with post-sale repairs and service, gunmakers and gunsmiths in the 19th century regularly serviced their clients’ guns. There was a reason a gun case might only include at most one turnscrew (a more genteel and accurate term than screwdriver), sized for a specific screw and no other, to allow for only limited self-maintenance; the rest required a professional’s hand. By the way, one uses a turnscrew to turn pins. Ah, the illogicism of British gun terminology...
Change of subject. It might be possible to build an iPhone by oneself, with time, tools and determination. But you wouldn’t do it at the same cost as Apple, which employs the equivalent of a small city of specialized workers to build them in quantity. In the same vein, a small gunmaker might be able to build a few guns from raw materials, but couldn’t compete monetarily with the combined hundreds of Birmingham workshops making parts and building guns, and the importation of barrel tubes by the thousands. For a small village maker/smith, it made more sense to buy from Birmingham partly-built or even finished guns complete with their name on them, for the sake of their relatively small clientele, and make their money on repairs and seasonal maintenance, and selling powder, cartridges etc as a regular mainstay -- we all know that feeding a gun can end up being more costly than the purchase price! Many London-based makers also did the same. This explains why so many ‘gunmakers’ have been recorded (like the 900+ names on my list of potential pin-fire makers).
Which, in turn, begs the question, recorded by whom? We are fortunate to have remarkable directories of gunmakers and gun-related workers. Nigel Brown’s three-volume British Gunmakers is perhaps the best, a substantial step up from his earlier London Gunmakers. Geoffrey Boothroyd’s Boothroyd’s Revised Directory of British Gunmakers is essential. De Witt Bailey and Douglas A. Nie’s English Gunmakers is a bit dated but nevertheless worthy, as is the list in Richard Akehurst's Game Guns and Rifles, Percussion to Hammerless Ejector in Britain. Douglas Tate’s Birmingham Gunmakers offers additional detail. For slightly earlier histories, Howard L. Blackmore’s Gunmakers of London 1350-1850 is also valuable. I’m not counting here the individual written histories of specific gunmakers, like the marvellous books by Donald Dallas, but these are also important references and sources of information. Then, there is The Internet Gun Club Database, a wonderful online resource. Also available online is the UK Census information, covering the period from 1841 to 1911, a remarkable tool for identifying anyone who worked in gunmaking in some capacity. Most towns had commercial directories, another source of date and address information. Yet despite all these impressive resources, some gunmakers fell through the cracks and remained unnoticed by later researchers and historians, with new addresses and histories turning up from time to time. I previously mentioned George Fuller’s unrecorded address, which appeared on one of his guns. Here is an account of one unnoticed gunmaker, who might have remained unrecorded as a Manchester maker had it not been for his premises blowing up (!), newspapers to cover it, and the gun below.
This is a curious one, a 12-bore bar-in-wood (!) with machine-made damascus barrels (?), with a most obscure action design from a little-known Birmingham maker (??), and built/retailed by the least-known brother of a large multi-generational gunmaking family, all of which operated from the other end of the country (???). The first breech-loaders were all experimental in their way, some more than others. This one is unusual in having a top lever action which isn’t the W&C Scott design. It fastens the barrel with a small rotating cam bolt engaging a single bite, which is not very strong compared with later formulations. The top lever is quite long and, while effective, it does not feel as solid as other top-lever guns of the period, such as those by Westley Richards. It is the design of the Birmingham gunmaker John Crofts, who received a patent for it on 11 April 1866. Very little is known about this maker, and John Crofts went out of business in 1868, so the action was likely to have been made at some time between these dates. This is one of a number of obscure snap-actions that appeared in the 1860s and quickly disappeared, as most were variations on the same designs, or they simply didn't catch on and gain popular use. Whether the gun was entirely made by Crofts, or the action sold in the white, remains unknown.
Crofts is not the name inscribed on the rib and locks. The rib carries the address “27 New Bailey St. Salford Manchester,” and the locks the name “Hambling.” This is confusing, as the name “Hambling” does not appear in any of the gunmaker references for Manchester. The Hambling gunmakers in Blackawton, Devon, include the father, William Bartlett Hambling, and his seven sons: William Baker, James, John, Charles George, Hiram Bartlett, Henry, and Reuben. Reuben Hambling is known to have been in business on his own in 1858 in Brighton, and at some point he moved to the North of England; from genealogical information, Reuben Hambling was in Manchester in the period when this gun passed through his hands, as his daughter, Fanny, was born there in 1869. Reuben was the only member of the Hambling family known to have made guns in Manchester.
We know he made guns there, as on 14 Oct 1865, the local newspaper The Bury Times published a small article titled “Gunpowder Explosion in Salford.” The article went on: “On Saturday evening, about half-past seven o'clock, two lads went into the shop of Mr. R. Hambling, gunsmith, Bexley-street, near the Salford Town Hall, to buy a pennyworth of gunpowder. An old man, named Cadden, was serving them out of a small canister, when by a mishap the gaslight from a bracket near the counter ignited the powder, which exploded. The canister contained about one and a half pound. The effect of the explosion was signally destructive. The contents of the shop window, guns and powder flasks, with the window frame and shutters, were all swept into the street. The lads and shopman were burned on the face and hands, but their injuries were not serious.” As there are both a New Bailey Street and a New Bexley Street in Salford, there is no way of knowing if the newspaper made an error or if Reuben Hambling moved from one location to another. He didn’t stay long in Manchester and later worked for the large firm of E. M. Reilly & Co. in London, finally moving to Ashford, in Kent. Reuben Hambling died in 1891.
The gun has 30-inch Birmingham-proofed barrels. The barrels also carry the mark "Roses Patent.” The Rose Brothers (of Hales-Owen Mills & Forge) were barrel makers located in Halesowen, Worcestershire, operating between 1860 and 1892, and well-known for making barrel tubes using a patented method for machine-production of damascus barrels, a subject worthy of a separate discussion. The action flats are signed “Crofts Patent,” the top-lever return spring is now weak, and the gun weighs 7 lb 11 oz.
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Johnn Peterson
CGN Ultra frequent flyer
- Location
- Chemainus B.C.
Years ago I purchased an English 12ga sidelock, straight stock SxS at a small shop in nearby Naniamo. I was looking for something to use primarly on Ruff and Blue Grouse here on the island. From their used gun rack, I set aside a few that 'caught' my eye and the final choice was made to go with the J.S. Boreham. Still have and use it. Recently acquired a second English SxS. A good friend, in very poor health, called me and explained his poor health and asked if I was interested in any of his firearms. Long story short, I agreed to purchase his Purdey 12ga straight stock sidelock SxS. In addition, I picked up a Purdey cleaning kit and a book of Purdey history and details. Oh, also a few flats of 2 1/2" ammo.
Ah, I have a special fondness for East Anglian gunmakers (including Colchester, which is kind of EA), as it used to be my neck of the woods for a while. So, I would love to see pictures of your JS (John Squire) Boreham sidelock. And a Purdey, no less. Very nice collection! Tell us more, Johnn.
