The allure of the British gun

[canvasback]

OK, but it is one of the real improvements made to this forum, being able to post photos without a hosting service. Here's a photo I took with my little Canon Elph. Loaded the photo into this laptop, clicked on the icon, selected the photo, and uploaded. I'm also pre-metric, almost as old as dirt.
Not quite in the same league as the other British guns in this thread. It is a little E Bond single, made for the Hudson's Bay Company. Tombstone fox mark on the forward end of the lockplate. Hammer, nipple and hammer screw are replacements.
View attachment 965545

I just figured this out a few weeks ago and it is a HUGE, TREMENDOUS AND FANTASTIC, BEST EVER improvement to the site. Most likely making this the GREATEST GUN FORUM WEBSITE the world has ever seen.

 

[Pinfire]

There are so many obscure and semi-obscure names in British gunmaking. Boreham is not exactly a household name, like Purdey or Holland & Holland!

In Victorian times, London and Birmingham did not have a monopoly on talent and custom. Highly skilled provincial makers could put up fine work at a level substantially above most small-town gunmakers, even equalling the best from London. Shooting was a country pursuit, and local craftsmen were competing directly with their big-city peers, especially when owners of country estates where shoots could be held decided to order guns from a local maker instead of a London firm. Some names I’ve already mentioned, like Pape, Horsley, Dickson, Paton and Erskine, would acquire substantial reputations, while others hovered just on the edge of renown. One of the latter was Henry Adkin, whose business began in 1844 and closed in 1996 – a pretty good run. (His name is not to be confused with Henry Atkin of London, who had worked for many years for James Purdey.)

Since the Middle Ages, Bedford has been a market town. Located 74 km north of London and 105 km south of Birmingham, Bedford transformed itself in the 19th century into an important engineering hub. In 1832, gas lighting was introduced. The railway arrived in 1846, the first drains and sewers were dug in 1864, and piped water was provided in 1866, near the time the gun below was made. In the 1860s, Bedford had only one gunmaker, Henry Adkin, at 11 High Street. He had two daughters and three sons, and his sons eventually followed him into the business. In 1861, Henry Adkin employed one man and two apprentices, a reasonably typical provincial gunmaker.

While Adkin ran a small operation, he could put up fine work. There were enough great shooting estates nearby to provide regular custom, and commissions. This one, a 12-bore double-bite screw grip under-lever pin-fire game gun, has no serial number (Adkin probably made fewer than ten in a year). The 29 3/4" damascus barrels have London proofs, and the gun weighs a well-balanced 7 lb 2 oz. However, it is thoroughly well-made, with several artistic flourishes: the dolphin-headed hammers with flanged noses, a fitted under-lever, the sculpted horn fore-end tip, unusually fine chequering, and well-executed acanthus-leaf engraving (it would be decades before the full-coverage tiny rose-and-scroll motifs would appear on guns). It is a quality gun from the height of the pin-fire, which thankfully has survived relatively unscathed.

In 1872, Adkin moved to 54 High Street, having the existing building torn down and a new building purpose-made as a gun shop and workshop – one of only three purpose-built gun shops in Britain (the others being Charles Hellis of London and John Tisdall of Arundel). Business must have been good, as the design was by the noted architect John Usher, responsible for many outstanding buildings and mansions in and around Bedford. Adkin’s building was finished in the Venetian Gothic style, topped with two gun dogs holding pheasants, and Adkin's initials “HA” carved in stone on the front of the building. Adkin’s original shop now houses a McDonald's, and the 1872 purpose-built building still stands, an architectural landmark which is now a Subway. Henry Adkin died in 1914, aged 93.

The original Adkin shop site, where this gun was made: (image captures: May 2019 - 2020 Google)

The Usher-designed building, topped by sitting gun dogs holding pheasants:

 

[Cow Town Bill]

Over the years I have seen two Adkins shotguns, both were hammer guns. They were very well made.
It is easy to confuse Adkins with the better known Atkin (Henry Atkin).

 

[Pinfire]

Gunmaking was not a business conducted in isolation, so it is not surprising that gunmakers often knew each other and knew each other's work, and sometimes were related to each other. In my comment on Johnn’s attractive Boreham sidelock, I noted that the history of the Boreham family of gunmakers was repeatedly intertwined with the Bales family of gunmakers. This sort of thing was quite common in British gunmaking, where families could be wedded through blood, ideas, experience, and talent.

In the early years of the breech-loader, a prospective maker would learn a lot from examining another's work, and there was certainly a lot of copying in terms of designs and decorative features. In the late 1850s and even early 1860s, very few gunmakers had even handled a breech-loader, let alone built one. This is one of the reasons the breech-loader was slow to become popular – building a few guns a year does not an avalanche make. The practice of 7-year internships allowed families to build up experience and establish new connections. Someone who apprenticed under a master who built breech-loaders would go on and make them once they were on their own. Again, with years of lag time, it's not a fast way to flood the market! There were many reasons why so few breech-loaders were in circulation pre-1860, despite Joseph Lang’s pin-fire gun first appearing in late 1853 or early 1854.

Marriage was a potent connection in the gunmaking world. Joseph Lang married James Purdey's daughter Eliza, linking the two families. Another example: the gunmaker William Parker went into partnership with gunmaker John Field’s widow; then William's daughter married John Field Jr. When Parker died, John Field Junior and his sons John William Parker Field and William Shakespeare Field started trading as Parker, Field & Sons. There are so many instances where gunmaking lineages are linked through marriage.

Here’s one more. Jabez Bloxham Welch [great name!] was born in 1786 in Banbury, an Oxfordshire market town located between Birmingham and London, to the west of Bedford (where Henry Adkins from my last post would later take up his trade). Welch was recorded as a gunmaker in 1829 in Butchers Row, Banbury. By the 1851 census, he was a widower, living with his nephew Thomas Julian Watkins (born 1821 in Leighton Buzzard), also a gunmaker. Welch retired in 1852, and Watkins took over the business. He married Eliza Mortimer (a daughter of one of the famous Mortimer gunmaking families in London), and in 1856, they had a son named Thomas Mortimer Watkins. In 1857, the business moved to 75 High Street.

Here is a 12-bore double-bite screw grip rotary under-lever pin-fire sporting gun by Thomas Julian Watkins of Banbury, and, as was common with pin-fires, it has no serial number. The 29 7/8” damascus barrels have London proofs, the back-action locks are signed "T J Watkins” and are decorated with dogs, and the action bar has game scene engraving within ovals on each side (pheasants and curlews). The top rib is marked “T. J. Watkins 75 High Street Banbury.” The double-bite screw grip action, based on the Henry Jones patent, is unmarked, so it was made after 1862 when the patent expired. The fences have raised collars, the hammers are nicely rounded and have flanged noses, and the under-lever fully wraps around the trigger guard bow. It is difficult to date a gun without access to the maker's records, but it appears to be from the mid-to-late 1860s based on its various features. It is a quality if plain-actioned gun, a good offering from a small provincial maker known to the London gun-making community. The gun is quite worn. One hammer is a period replacement, and the gun weighs 7 lb 2 oz.

The 1861 census records Eliza Watkins and her son were visiting with the London gunmaker William Blanch, son of John Blanch, and his wife Madaline, at 29 Gracechurch Street, an address familiar to anyone who has a Blanch gun. The Blanch gunmaking family was also interconnected by marriage with the Mortimer gunmaking family, and, by extension, with the Watkins family. John Blanch was one of Britain's very first promoters of the pin-fire system, together with Lang and E. M. Reilly.

 

[Johnn Peterson]

Gunmaking was not a business conducted in isolation, so it is not surprising that gunmakers often knew each other and knew each other's work, and sometimes were related to each other. In my comment on Johnn’s attractive Boreham sidelock, I noted that the history of the Boreham family of gunmakers was repeatedly intertwined with the Bales family of gunmakers. This sort of thing was quite common in British gunmaking, where families could be wedded through blood, ideas, experience, and talent.

In the early years of the breech-loader, a prospective maker would learn a lot from examining another's work, and there was certainly a lot of copying in terms of designs and decorative features. In the late 1850s and even early 1860s, very few gunmakers had even handled a breech-loader, let alone built one. This is one of the reasons the breech-loader was slow to become popular – building a few guns a year does not an avalanche make. The practice of 7-year internships allowed families to build up experience and establish new connections. Someone who apprenticed under a master who built breech-loaders would go on and make them once they were on their own. Again, with years of lag time, it's not a fast way to flood the market! There were many reasons why so few breech-loaders were in circulation pre-1860, despite Joseph Lang’s pin-fire gun first appearing in late 1853 or early 1854.

Marriage was a potent connection in the gunmaking world. Joseph Lang married James Purdey's daughter Eliza, linking the two families. Another example: the gunmaker William Parker went into partnership with gunmaker John Field’s widow; then William's daughter married John Field Jr. When Parker died, John Field Junior and his sons John William Parker Field and William Shakespeare Field started trading as Parker, Field & Sons. There are so many instances where gunmaking lineages are linked through marriage.

Here’s one more. Jabez Bloxham Welch [great name!] was born in 1786 in Banbury, an Oxfordshire market town located between Birmingham and London, to the west of Bedford (where Henry Adkins from my last post would later take up his trade). Welch was recorded as a gunmaker in 1829 in Butchers Row, Banbury. By the 1851 census, he was a widower, living with his nephew Thomas Julian Watkins (born 1821 in Leighton Buzzard), also a gunmaker. Welch retired in 1852, and Watkins took over the business. He married Eliza Mortimer (a daughter of one of the famous Mortimer gunmaking families in London), and in 1856, they had a son named Thomas Mortimer Watkins. In 1857, the business moved to 75 High Street.

Here is a 12-bore double-bite screw grip rotary under-lever pin-fire sporting gun by Thomas Julian Watkins of Banbury, and, as was common with pin-fires, it has no serial number. The 29 7/8” damascus barrels have London proofs, the back-action locks are signed "T J Watkins” and are decorated with dogs, and the action bar has game scene engraving within ovals on each side (pheasants and curlews). The top rib is marked “T. J. Watkins 75 High Street Banbury.” The double-bite screw grip action, based on the Henry Jones patent, is unmarked, so it was made after 1862 when the patent expired. The fences have raised collars, the hammers are nicely rounded and have flanged noses, and the under-lever fully wraps around the trigger guard bow. It is difficult to date a gun without access to the maker's records, but it appears to be from the mid-to-late 1860s based on its various features. It is a quality if plain-actioned gun, a good offering from a small provincial maker known to the London gun-making community. The gun is quite worn. One hammer is a period replacement, and the gun weighs 7 lb 2 oz.

The 1861 census records Eliza Watkins and her son were visiting with the London gunmaker William Blanch, son of John Blanch, and his wife Madaline, at 29 Gracechurch Street, an address familiar to anyone who has a Blanch gun. The Blanch gunmaking family was also interconnected by marriage with the Mortimer gunmaking family, and, by extension, with the Watkins family. John Blanch was one of Britain's very first promoters of the pin-fire system, together with Lang and E. M. Reilly.

Very nice and great info. I mentioned earlier on, that when I acquired my Purdey, with it I also picked up two related items. An unused Purdey shotgun cleaning kit in a mahogany box and, a book titled PURDEY'S
The Guns And The Family
by Richard Beaumont

 

[Pinfire]

What a terrific array of guns on display at the 9th Annual Upper Canada Double Gun Classic last Saturday. Lots of well-known makers on show, and some not-so-well-known. British guns were well represented, from a Joseph Manton percussion gun, to the winning gun, a James Purdey bar-in-wood. There was a fantastic Holland & Holland Royal, another acme of gunmaking, and a Spanish copy that was very beautiful to my eye. There were some more recent guns, like a Webley & Scott and a Churchill XXV, tossed in for good measure. There were hammerless sidelocks and boxlocks, and a few of my favourites, hammer guns. Some of the hammer guns had non-rebounding locks, whereby the hammers are pulled back to a half detent for loading, a step that is all too easily forgotten when birds are flying fast. Rebounding locks, John Stanton’s invention of the late 1860s, where the hammers return to a safe position after firing, were a definite improvement and quickly became commonplace. Upgrading earlier locks to rebounding was a trifling matter, though not all did so. From the 1870s onwards, most hammer guns coalesced around a fairly standard design: Scott top-lever, Purdey double under-bolt, perhaps a third fastener for good measure, and rebounding locks incorporating Stanton's improvement. This pinnacle of gun design was a combination of many ideas, and most of these features carried on to the hammerless era and through to today. Throughout this time, tooling and methods have improved, and the number of craftsmen grew, as has the number of persons able to afford fine guns.

I am interested in what came before the ‘standard’ hammer gun, in the 1850s and 1860s when makers in Britain started building the first breech-loaders, when creativity flourished, and when, unlike today, any two guns picked up at random could look very different indeed. The pin-fire ruled in these early days, though Charles Lancaster's and George Daw’s proprietary central-fire guns and Needham's needle-fire were competitive contemporary options. Joseph Lang's forward-underlever hinge-action design, the early front-runner, was edged out by the lever-over-guard, masking a separate design battle between the French-origin single-bite fastener and Henry Jones's seminal double screw-grip (also a variation on a French design). Later would come the snap-actions, with every variation and placement of lever, button or catch. Some of these have stood the test of time, remaining popular to this day, but most stepped aside and let the Scott lever-Purdey underbolt combination dominate.

Here is an excellent example of the early single-bite lever-over-guard gun, which by its design avoided licensing or copying Jones's still-active patent, in the form of a 12-bore pin-fire game gun by Harris Holland. Even a big London name had to have started somewhere. Typically, a firm started small around the output of one gunmaker, a few workers, and perhaps an apprentice or two, gradually building a reputation for putting up fine guns. The barrels, locks and assorted furniture would come from elsewhere, usually Birmingham and the ‘black country’ ironworks, with the actioning, fitting and finishing done in the London premises or by skilled outworkers. Harris John Holland set up in business as a tobacconist in 1835 at 9 King Street, Holborn, London. During the 1840s, he became involved in dealing in guns as well, and by 1850 he was a full-time gunmaker. The business moved to 98 New Bond Street in 1858, and his nephew, Henry William Holland, was taken on as an apprentice in 1860 for the usual seven-year term (he became a partner in the business at the end of his apprenticeship in 1867). In 1876 the name of the firm was changed to Holland & Holland, and much has been written about the firm and the wonderful H&H guns since then. Far less is known about his early years.

Harris Holland advertised his breech-loading pin-fire gun (and Kufahl-type needle-fire rifles) in The Field newspaper starting on 20 September 1856:

Business was slow at first, as he only started making breech-loaders in 1857 when he made six of them. In 1858 he made 14, and in 1859 he doubled his output to 28 breech-loading guns. Production increased gradually after that, averaging some 30-40 breech-loading sporting guns a year. In 1865 he sold 66 breech-loaders and, by comparison, only 19 percussion-cap guns. All of his breech-loaders up to this point were pin-fires; Harris Holland made his first centre-fire gun in 1866.

So, any Harris Holland pin-fire is a rare find. Gun number 824 was built in 1861 for Alan James Gulston of Dirleton and Derwydd, Wales, who was one of Britain's largest landowners at the time, having inherited the family lands and estates. Previously a captain in the 47th Regiment of Foot, Gulston became a magistrate for County Carmarthen, and later Sheriff in 1860; perhaps he celebrated his appointment with the purchase of a new breech-loading gun! Here he is in 1877, and in a later photographic portrait. He died in Guernsey in 1886.

The gun is a double-barreled 12-bore with a single-bite screw-grip action, and the lever-over-guard (in the French style, with the gap in front of the trigger guard bow filled in). As is typical for early pin-fire breech-loaders, the fences are quite thin. The barrels are signed “H. Holland 98 New Bond St London” on the top rib and stamped “H.H” on the under rib. This latter marking suggests this was not a gun bought from 'the trade,' but built in-house. The gun has a mechanical grip safety, a hold-over from percussion guns. Unless the safety is released by gripping the gun, the hammers will not drop. The deeper acanthus-leaf engraving shows the beginning of what would become Holland's house engraving style, which would be carried over to his central-fire hammerless guns, like the Royal. The gun was very well cared for, it still has mirror bores, and weighs 7 lb 1 oz. It resides in its original mahogany gun-room case, with a set of loading tools and cleaning accessories.

 

[The_Gun_Boy]

Is the grip safety more common on Holland guns, or is a widely used patent in the period?

 

[Pinfire]

Is the grip safety more common on Holland guns, or is a widely used patent in the period?

That’s a good question about grip safeties, Gun Boy. These are a holdover from the days of percussion guns, yet another example of path dependency in gunmaking, that I described a while back in this thread. Long before the days of interrupted sears, guns had no safety measures beyond the quality of the bents, or notches, in the tumbler and the shape of the sear that engaged it. A loaded gun could go off if knocked about or jarred, or from the paws of an energetic dog brushing against a trigger. Reloading a muzzle-loader had its dangers, and many a gentleman lost fingers in the process, if nipples were capped and the hammers left in the firing position. One solution was a mechanical device that would block the triggers unless depressed, adding an extra layer of protection. These appeared on high-end percussion guns, and several patents were taken out by various gunmakers/inventors. Some early (1854-1861) British pin-fire game guns had them, but they were not common, and not limited to any maker. The following is an excerpt from John Henry Walsh’s book The Shot-Gun and Sporting Rifle, published under the pseudonym “Stonehenge” in 1859, describing the grip safety, or ‘safety guard’:

He alludes to two types, and the one he pictures in his book is of the type appearing on the Harris Holland gun no. 824. Walsh recommends a different configuration, to avoid a twig slipping in between the safety bar and the stock and preventing the shot. Here is an example of the second type he describes, found on a pin-fire gun converted from percussion:

One of the great advantages of the breech-loader was safety in loading and unloading the gun, via self-contained cartridges. The grip safety was no longer needed, and gunmakers stopped including them on breech-loaders by 1861 or so, unless a client insisted on it, for reasons of habit. Here is another one, on a pin-fire by Hugh Snowie of Inverness, Scotland, from around 1860:

I have not encountered grip safeties on pin-fire guns built after 1861, but in British gunmaking, anything is possible.

 

[Pinfire]

Can this thread reach 14,000 views? Let's see...

One thing that is clear, from the recent Annual Upper Canada Double Gun Classic, the contributions by many to this thread, and my own scribblings, is that fine guns provoke admiration and great pride of ownership. All guns do, to an extent, but well-crafted steel, fine wood, and the skilled decoration that exists on hand-crafted and hand-finished guns take pride of ownership to a higher level. This is not new, it has always been the case with sporting guns, which carry a finish and quality level that no military arm can match.

When the breech-loading sporting guns first appeared, they were met with uncertainty, hesitation, and at times outright derision and disdain. They couldn’t possibly be better than the reliable muzzle-loader, many claimed. The inroads made by cartridge guns were slow at first, though this increased throughout the 1860s, and by 1870, the centre-fire gun had wrested the mantle of ‘world’s best sporting gun’ away from the pin-fire. It took a brave soul to commit to purchasing a breech-loader in the beginning years from 1854 to 1860, when breech-loading was a radical step. I honestly can’t think of a modern comparison in gunmaking or shooting sports, probably because so little has changed in the past 155 years in our sport, and certainly nothing as earth-shaking as the switch from muzzle-loading to self-contained cartridges.

So it is not surprising that the early breech-loaders were treasured, for being cutting-edge and seriously expensive. But all things have a life, and even one's favourites get passed on. A pin-fire game gun might be given to a gamekeeper once its sheen had faded and it could no longer elicit envy and admiration. Once outside of its annual maintenance by its skilled maker, how much effort might be made to keep a gun in the shooting field, perhaps as a meat gun? The fact that so many pin-fires carry old and at times unsightly repairs suggests that the ‘bubba’ concept is nothing new, especially if the owner at the time could not afford a new stock or carefully fitted and matched parts.

Here is an example of a fine gun, once very handsome and the peak of modernity, seemingly relegated to a lesser role and kept going through repeated, less-than-perfect repairs.

Hugh Lumsden Snowie was born in 1806 in Aberdeen, Scotland. He was apprenticed to Charles Playfair from 1821 to 1827. He might have been Playfair's first apprentice, as that was the year Playfair first started his own gun-making business. After his apprenticeship, Snowie worked in London as a journeyman gun maker for about two years before moving in 1829 to Inverness to establish his own business. By 1851, he was recorded living at 89 Church Street, with his wife, daughter, and two sons (Thomas and William, who eventually apprenticed under their father). Hugh Snowie died in London in June 1879, and his sons continued the family firm.

This Snowie gun has been heavily used and has undergone significant repair and maintenance work throughout its operational life. It might even be a converted muzzle-loader, but I can't be entirely sure. Someone indeed went to great lengths to keep it in working order. It is a 14-bore, and my best guess is that it was probably made around 1860, so an early breech-loader. The 29” damascus barrels have London proofs and an unsigned top rib. The back-action locks are signed “H. Snowie.” The gun has a single-bite screw grip action with forward-facing under-lever and assisted-opening stud, similar to the type Joseph Lang began making in 1854, but with a mechanical complication copied from the Parisian Beatus Beringer. The actioner's initials are “S.B,” which I believe to be those of Samuel Breedon of Washwood Heath, a Birmingham gunmaker known to have been one of the first to produce breech-loading actions for the trade. Breedon might have built the gun entirely, or supplied a barrelled action or partly finished gun to Snowie, who did the rest. The under-lever swings out to the left instead of the right, marking this a gun for a left-handed shooter. The gun features early design elements, such as the mechanical safety grip described earlier, and a long butt plate upper tang. These additions soon disappeared in the breech-loading era. It is the appearance of these features and the very worn engraving that had me wondering if this was a percussion-to-pin-fire conversion. The gun has fences with raised collars, an attractive flourish. The hammers have extended flanges, and overall, the gun has slim, well-proportioned lines, weighing a light 6 lb 10 oz. It is a real shame that the 14-bore fell out of fashion.

The story I want to know is why it underwent so many repairs. Was the owner a parsimonious Scot of stereotypic lore? Several action screws have been replaced; the assisted-opening stud mechanism is missing; the under-lever looks crudely replaced, with incongruous engraving, and the right-hand lock plate has an extra drilled hole. Removing the lock shows that a new, shorter mainspring was fitted, which required a new hole for the spring's attachment pin. The smith looks to have used a spring salvaged from another gun instead of making a new one, but fitted it in a way whereby both hammers pulled with equal force. The gun has seen heavy use, the engraving is quite worn, and the bores are pitted. It was kept going long after someone else might have retired it from the shooting field, or returned it to the gunmaker to be scrapped for spare parts and iron.

 

[tiriaq]

Many years ago, I hunted with a grip safety equipped percussion double by Harkom owned by a friend. Fine gun.

 

[Pinfire]

Thank you to readers who have taken this thread beyond 14,000 views, proving there is an allure to British guns, and an interest in knowing more about them. I’m happy to keep things going, before interest eventually fades away.

The Snowie gun shows to what lengths shooters in the 19th century would go to keep a gun in the field. Old repairs on guns are a bit of a mystery for me. It is obvious from the remarkable lengths one would go to convert a muzzle-loader to a pin-fire or central-fire gun, that skilled workmanship was available at relatively little cost. The main qualities of a gun were found in its barrels and locks, and everything else was secondary. Maintenance of barrels, locks and even actions was a regular activity. On any pin-fire in my collection, the browning of the barrels ranges from non-existent to flawless, but I know it is unlikely that any of them has the original finish or remnants of finish they had when they first left the gunmaker’s shop. Re-browning barrels was part of general maintenance during a gun’s working life. Hammers break (especially if dry-fired), so it is also not unusual to find hammers that are ever so slightly mismatched, either through style or decorative engraving, the result of replacement. This begs the question, if costs were trifling, why didn’t the gunsmith change both hammers, in the name of symmetry? A similar question arises from damage to stocks, especially around the hand, where catastrophic breakage usually occurs. Why patch together a gun with unsightly metal bands, pins, or cross-bolts, when a replacement stock could be made? We’ve all seen cosmetic repairs to wood on old guns that is near impossible to detect, adding slivers or wedges carefully colour-matched to hide damage. Yet, when damage is serious, the 19th-century equivalent to duct tape is used… Vintage big-game rifles used in Africa and Asia are often seen with crude brass bands or wire-reinforced hands, indicating prior breakage or fear of breakage, from using heavily-recoiling charges. Perhaps all of these have something in common – repairs by competent smiths, but not gunmakers. Cost might have been a factor, but perhaps village and small-town gunmakers could only provide maintenance and small repairs, but not re-builds and re-stocking. Guns taken abroad to distant lands and colonies (including Canada) might be a consideration, where repairs were made far from Britain. Even this, I find hard to believe, considering the widespread nature of gunmaking craftsmanship, but the evidence of half-baked repair jobs abounds. Maybe I’m overthinking this, considering the number of Cooeys I’ve seen with fore-ends held on with hockey tape; maybe a sizeable number of folks just don’t care much about appearance, as long as the gun goes bang. A sad thought.

Here is a provincial gun with a clever/ugly repair, you choose. It is a 12-bore double-barrelled rotary-underlever pin-fire sporting gun marked Robert Ringer of Norwich. Born in 1821 in Tharston, Robert Ringer began making guns under his name in 1852 in Watton, near Thetford, in the rural county of Norfolk, in East Anglia (north-east of London). He appears to have taken over the premises of the gunmaker William Burton, who started the business in 1839. Prior to 1852, Ringer was a journeyman gunmaker in the market town of Swaffham, working for either William Parson or Abigail Sutton. Where he completed his apprenticeship is not recorded, but it may well have been with Burton, Parson, or James Sutton. Ringer must have been successful in Watton, as he was able to open new premises in Norwich in 1868, on Orford Street (also called Great Orford Street), closing the Watton premises shortly afterwards. Around this time, he employed one man and one boy, a fairly typical arrangement for a provincial gunmaker. In the 1891 census, Robert Ringer was living at 5 Oxford Hill, Norwich, with his daughter. He died in 1894.

Norwich is the county town of Norfolk, established as a city in the 10th century, and from the 11th century onwards, the second largest city after London. A thriving commercial centre in Victorian times, Norwich was built on the wool and textile trade, and as a gateway to mainland Europe (before the rail line was established in 1845, it was said to have been quicker to travel to Amsterdam than to London). The county was also very good shooting country, for partridge, and later for pheasant – many storied shooting estates were located in the county, where by the middle of the 19th century, over a hundred Norfolk families owned estates greater than 2,000 acres in size. Norwich was therefore a good location for a talented gunmaker, and in 1868, the pin-fire game gun still ruled. In that year, there were four other Norwich gunmakers in operation, with the best-known being George Jeffries (in business from 1841 to 1899, who had obtained in 1860 patent no. 1900 for a turnover tool which improved the performance of the pin-fire cartridge; this invention was overshadowed by James Purdey’s patent no. 302 of 1861, a better turnover tool). The other three Norwich gunmakers, Robert Norton Dale, Robert John Howard, and John Ottway, were short-lived, open only in that year. Like Jeffries, the Ringer business survived until around 1890, and would have turned out percussion guns, pin-fires, and central-fires, in due course.

Back to the gun. The top rib is marked “Robert Ringer Gt Orford St Norwich.” The 30” damascus barrels have London proofs and bore markings (13). I has a generic double-bite screw grip action, common to many pin-fires, and rather thin fences. The Great Orford Street address means its manufacture cannot be earlier than 1868, and a lack of records and surviving Ringer guns makes it difficult to date precisely, but I’m guessing 1868-1869. One of the more striking features is the underlever, which is ring-tipped. A number of makers uncommonly used this form, and it is most widely seen on guns by E. M. Reilly of London. Terry Wieland’s book, Vintage British Shotguns: A Shooting Sportsman Guide, tantalizingly illustrates a beautiful Robert Ringer pin-fire, a single-bite underlever 12-bore, made from the Watton address. I say tantalizingly, because the underlever is not fully visible, and I would have liked to see its distal end, to see if it has a ring-shaped knob. There is only so much that can be discerned from a single published photograph, which is frustrating to anyone doing research. You really have to have a gun in your hands to really appreciate it and notice all the relevant details.

It is a nicely made gun, featuring signed back-action locks, an elongated top strap, rounded dolphin-headed hammers, good foliate scroll engraving, and a raised clip on the trigger guard bow. The well-figured stock has worn chequering at the wrist, but the wrist is noticeable for having fitted metal straps to hold together a broken stock. Substantial work was performed to do this is as elegantly as possible, if anything like this can ever be considered elegant. It is a very trim and slim gun, light for a pin-fire 12-bore at 6 lb 13 oz. The stock escutcheon has the letters “LHS” in script, unfortunately, not enough to trace its ownership. And it has the enigmatic ring-tipped underlever. I can’t see a purpose for this design feature; it may be just for looks, or the maker was winking at a play on his own name. The repair probably kept the gun going for a few more seasons, until “LHS” moved on to a more fashionable central-fire double gun, or it was a repair by a later owner.

 

[sillymike]

Just thinking out loud...

Personally, I don't mind the repair all that much... But what bugs me is if someone is going to the trouble to do a clean inleting job. Why not add some scrolls to it and make it pretty ? (or prettier).

I guess we'll have to wait for Pinfire to start British shotgun repair thread.

Just about bought a nice British double with sleeved barrels, for no other reason than I was impressed by the quality of the work.

 

[Pinfire]

What can an old gun tell us? That brings us back to the mystical allure of guns that have had a lifetime, or several lifetimes, of use in the shooting field. How much game has the gun taken? Who has owned it? Where has it been? Whose hands built it?

It would be great if all old guns were in fine untouched condition, in their original cases with label and tools and accessories, and maybe the original bill of sale and a copy of the gunmaker’s ledger to top things off. We’re rarely that lucky or rich enough to take advantage of such rare opportunities. For a limited-budget collector focused on a theme, a period, or a specific maker, you have to make do with what is available and sometimes “interesting” and “condition” are opposites. While it is easy to walk away from an antique gun purchase, it could well be the only one you will see in your lifetime, and putting up with blemishes and damage might still be worth it in the end. Even the guns that have a whiff of hopelessness about them can still tell us a lot, and maybe teach us something about Victorian gunmaking. Today's featured gun is in dilapidated condition. As a pin-fire game gun, it was probably worked hard, then converted to central-fire and used for decades more, before being neglected and eventually stripped of its useful parts and relegated to the proverbial junk pile.

The gun is signed Theophilus Murcott of London, a peculiar name that any double gun fancier should nevertheless recognize. In April 1871 Murcott patented the first successful hammerless gun, an underlever-cocking bar-action sidelock, built with a single bolt engaging with the rear lump, or with a Purdey double-bite. The action was nicknamed “Murcott's Mousetrap” by one of his competitors, a name that stuck with some affection. Every hammerless hinge-action shotgun can trace its beginnings to the Mousetrap. Murcott advertised his gun in The Field newspaper and Field and Water magazine as “THE LAST GUN OUT- Theophilus Murcott, Gun-maker, 68 Haymarket, invites the attention of the nobility, gentry and the sporting world generally to the new GUN he has recently patented. The advantages offered by it are rapidity of action, perfect security, nonliability to accident, extreme simplicity of construction. The first is attained by the lever, which opens the barrels to receive the cartridge, also cocking the gun, the second is insured by the bolt on the top indicating whether or not the gun is ready for discharge, the third is exhibited in the entire absence of all external projections, while the fourth is shown at a glance at its mechanical principles. Its shooting powers are guaranteed to be second to none. An inspection of the gun is respectfully solicited by Theophilus Murcott, Patentee and Maker, 68 Haymarket.”

A Murcott Mousetrap, sadly not mine, but one sold a few years ago at Holt’s auction (Internet photo):

Murcott was born in 1816 in Birmingham. He moved to London around 1837 and managed a wholesale ironmongery (hardware) business on Oxford Street on behalf of his father. There is no record that he served any gunmaking apprenticeship, but as an ironmonger, he would have sold guns, wadding, powder and shot. Around 1851, Theophilus Murcott acted as a London agent for the Birmingham gunmakers Tipping & Lawden. I’ve already covered how London jewellers, pawn shops, hardware dealers, and even general merchants could act as London agents for Birmingham gunmakers. Tipping & Lawden was slightly different in that they had their own London shop at 26 Bartlett's Buildings, off Holborn Circus, an area frequented by lawyers. Murcott probably bought Tipping & Lawden guns for his shop and as part of his wholesale ironmongery business. In 1854, Murcott opened his gun shop at 16 Essex Street, Strand, and by 1861, he had moved to live and work at 68 Haymarket, under the business name Theophilus Murcott & Co. While the Strand was a good address, the Haymarket area was popular with gunmakers trying to attract a top clientele. The 1861 census records Theophilus and his wife Mary living at that address with his children Charles, Elizabeth, Mary and Theophilus Jr, and Charles and Sarah Hanson. Theophilus Murcott, his son Theophilus Jr, and Charles Hanson described themselves as gun makers; Hanson may have been a journeyman gunmaker working for Murcott, perhaps after finishing his apprenticeship with him. On 15 August 1861, Theophilus Murcott senior and Charles Hanson registered patent No. 2042 for a hinged and rising/falling chamber block operated by an under-lever. In 1866, Theophilus changed the name of the business back to Theophilus Murcott. By this time, he was known for his conversions of muzzle-loaders to breech-loaders, skilled work indeed. In 1878, the business was sold to WW Greener. Theophilus Murcott died on 19 May 1893, aged 75.

68 Haymarket Street, today, courtesy Google Maps:

The gun shown here is not one of Murcott's patent actions. It is a 12-bore double-bite screw grip rotary under-lever pin-fire sporting gun made around 1870, and later converted to central-fire. The 29 3/4" laminated barrels have London proofs, the barrel rib is signed “Theops Murcott 68 Haymarket London SW” within a scrolling banner, and the non-rebounding bar locks are signed “Theops Murcott,” also within decorative banners. The locks are internally signed for John Stanton of Wolverhampton, one of the best and most renowned lock makers who supplied the London gun trade. There are two raised clips on the trigger guard bow, and the serpentine fences are well-shaped, though now drilled and tapped for central-fire striker assemblies. It has the short top strap in keeping with its bar locks, and the starburst detailing at the breech ends where the pin holes were, now filled in and re-engraved, is particularly attractive, as is the general pleasing quality of the engraving. The initials ‘T&L’ on the barrel flats between the lugs suggest that Tipping & Lawden, Murcott's old employer, built the gun for Murcott to sell. The stock has a good figure, but the chequering of the stock and fore-end has long since been worn away. It was once a beautiful and glorious sporting gun, someone’s pride and joy. So far, it is an interesting gun from a significant maker not often found in collections. The original quality was high, with superb barrels and locks, possibly once a ‘best’ grade.

A one-piece extractor has been added and fitted to the barrel lugs, with corresponding grooves cut into the action bar, based on William S. Riley's patent of 1866. This was no minor alteration, and with the pin holes superbly filled in and disguised, the conversion was done with skill. William Sparks Riley (also written as William Spinks Riley) was born in Birmingham in 1825. In the 1851 census he was recorded as a gun finisher, living with his sister Sarah, his brother Frederick (a pistol maker), and his cousin Thomas Cole (an air gun maker). William opened his business in 1861 at 34 & 35 Lench Street, Birmingham, trading as a gun finisher and retail viewer. On 16 February 1866 he patented a firing pin, extractor and loading indicators (patent no. 491). The extractor design was similar to the Schneider design developed by George H. Daw, being double-legged with a short cylindrical guide. This is the extractor found on the Murcott gun:

So, a quality gun from an interesting maker, with a rarely encountered extractor mechanism. What else? The silver stock escutcheon indicates the gun was owned, and perhaps first ordered, by Captain Robert Burn Singer of the 28th (The North Gloucestershire) Regiment of Foot. While Singer joined after the Crimean War, the regiment had a storied history in that engagement, having fought at the battles of Alma, Balaclava (think Charge of the Light Brigade), Inkerman, and the Siege of Sevastopol. The regiment even had a distant Canadian connection in its history as well: it was created in 1694 and posted to Newfoundland; it took part in the Battle of Louisbourg (1758), the Battle of the Plains of Abraham (1759), and the American War of Independence (1776). It fought against Napoleon in Egypt, in Spain (Talavera, Vitoria), and at the Battle of Quatre Bras at Waterloo, earning praise from the Duke of Wellington. Being part of such a storied regiment would have been attractive to an ambitious young man.

Robert Burn Singer was born in 1842. He started as an Ensign in the 28th Regiment in September 1858 at the age of 16, purchased his first commission as Lieutenant in February 1864, got married in 1865, and purchased his second commission as Captain in October 1868, eventually serving 19 years in the regiment, notably in India and Gibraltar. In the 1871 census he was recorded at 123, High Street, Portsea Island, Portsmouth, Hampshire, with his wife, daughter, and two sons. He died in 1879. If bought new, a Murcott of London pin-fire with Stanton locks would have represented a significant financial investment on a Captain's pay, about a tenth or more of his annual income of £200. Perhaps the gun was to celebrate his captaincy, taking the trouble to have his initials and regiment engraved on the escutcheon. Or, he might have bought the gun second-hand, and had it engraved to make it his own.

The gun may be a sad wreck, but in more than 25 years of searching, I have never encountered another Murcott pin-fire, heard tell of one, or seen one mentioned or illustrated. I wasn't about to wait for another to come along. Huzza to Captain Singer and his prize Murcott!

 

[canvasback]

Just thinking out loud...

Personally, I don't mind the repair all that much... But what bugs me is if someone is going to the trouble to do a clean inleting job. Why not add some scrolls to it and make it pretty ? (or prettier).

I guess we'll have to wait for Pinfire to start British shotgun repair thread.

Just about bought a nice British double with sleeved barrels, for no other reason than I was impressed by the quality of the work.

I have quite a valuable German gun that had the same kind of inletted repair done to the stock decades ago. We think in the 1930 or 1940s. To my eye, it's ghastly in real life. The owners back then had this gun and a couple Francottes, so likely reasonably well heeled. I can't understand how they could have put up with this short cut. Unless the Depression had changed their financial situation. I bought the gun with the expectation of doing a restock and the gun is in the queue, waiting it's turn. It's a 20 gauge Lindner made Diamond Quality Charles Daly, so well worth spending the money on.

 

[sillymike]

The broken stock (and their repair) reminds me of an article I'd read a while back... About features that (untill then) I only thought of as cosmetic... But were initially brought about as a solution to a possible problem (which could be major issue if you were out hunting in Africa a century ago)

Like the elongated trigger strap and back strap (or whatever they are called) on English doubles and long lock plates... While they do look pretty and offer additional space for engraving... They were initially created to strengthen the wrist of the stock.