The allure of the British gun

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One of the great pleasures of owning British guns is recognizing the effort that has gone into their production. This can be remarking on the cleverness of a design or the flowing lines of a game gun; appreciating the quality of materials, be they fine steels or select walnut; feeling wonder at the skill in fitting and finishing the various parts; or admiring the aesthetic appeal of hand-cut engraving and chequering. One thing that is often lost in the large-scale production of sporting guns, and in this I include Birmingham factories of yesteryear as well as modern Turkish production lines, is flair. Individuality. Artistic expression. Instead, we get production output that is generic, aimed at bottom-line profits and not exhibiting craftsmanship. The way a modern gun company increases market share today is by manipulating prices, not putting out a better product. As consumers we are also at fault, looking for deals instead of criticizing cut corners and demanding better products.

I’ve always maintained that the way to appreciate a British gun is to look at it very carefully, as well as make good use of it in the field. Nothing wrong about having a good sit-down with a gun, polishing its metal and giving the wood a good rub, disassembling fore-end and barrels and marvelling at each. Seeing curves and shapes and flourishes you hadn’t noticed before. Maybe with a wee dram, or a flavourful coffee, whatever your choice. I do NOT have the same relationship with other sporting or hobby equipment, or my toaster or drill. I refuse to consider a well-made gun to be the same as any other sort of kit or tool, and I choose a gun as carefully as I choose a friendship.

I’m a bit busy leading up to this long weekend, so no time for a lengthy dissertation, and apologies if you’ve seen my thoughts on hammers before. Hopefully, there are enough new readers who won’t notice I’ve written on the subject before, and enough old readers who just like hammers...

Hammer guns still have a certain charm, even if they are “from another age.” Although successful for over 200 years, flintlocks were complicated, finicky contraptions. The later percussion locks had hammers throwing a tighter arc, meant to focus the strike on the cap and keep it in place, while deflecting any flying bits of copper away from the shooter. These hammers followed a specific form and are attractive, to be sure. With the appearance of the pin-fire system, the least well-known of the hammer guns, the role of the hammer was to drive down a vertical pin to strike the internal cap in the cartridge, a somewhat different arc. The pin had to be driven in, but not too much, to allow the extraction of the case by the still-extruding pin. Thumb-pieces tended to be high and upright in the “hare's ears” configuration, and because of the different arc, hammer noses were generally longer and flatter than those on percussion locks. Later central-fire guns could have more vertically compressed profiles as the noses struck angled or horizontal strikers and did not push down vertical pins. As the central-fire system displaced the pin-fire and gradually went through its own evolution, low-profile central-fire hammers could disappear from the sight plane when cocked, whereas the tall pin-fire hammers were always in sight.

While hammers in a set were mirror images of each other, often no two sets were wholly identical, even from the same maker. Hammers were made from forgings or castings and shaped by hand with files before being individually fitted to the gun. However, just because all pin-fire hammers do the same job doesn't mean they have to be the same form and shape. Combined with differences in engraving styles and decorative flourishes, there is considerable variation in hammers when you stop to look. Here are forty-eight pin-fire hammers from more than thirty different makers, offering a clearer picture of this variation. Forty-five are from British makers, one is French, and two are of Belgian origin; almost all are from the 1860s.

All have high thumbpieces and an under-stop under the nose that prevents the hammer from hitting the pin flat on the surface of the barrel. Some retain a design holdover from percussion days, a raised ‘shield’ or extended lip meant to deflect pieces of copper caps, now reduced to a stylized flourish. Most are rounded, others have flat sides, and some with both. Some are decorated with ‘dolphin-fish’ features, a common Victorian motif. Others are plain, plain, plain. And while examining the hammers, take a moment to appreciate the wide variation in the width and shape of the fences, another area where the filers and chisellers could express themselves and give character to their creations.

 

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Well now, this thread has topped 20,000 views on CGN, so either British guns DO have an allure, or I’m keeping Internet bots busy.

Here is a gun I’ve briefly shown earlier, in a post on bar-in-wood guns, without saying much about its maker. Even as an ardent (if not obsessed) collector for the past 40-some years, I can’t say I’ve come across many that touch this one. The backstory of the maker is the icing on the cake. I just wish I knew who owned it, back in the day.

Two of the most highly valued points of reference in British gunmaking are name and address. While a little-known maker operating in a distant town could, and did, produce guns of the highest order when commissioned, most of the top-tier makers in mid-Victorian Britain, with names known to all the keen sportsmen of the day, had London addresses. The name Purdey is now synonymous with the finest guns, but in the 1860s, James Purdey was just one of several London makers with equally well-earned reputations. These included James Woodward, Thomas Boss, Harris Holland, William Moore, John Blanch, George Fuller, and Joseph Lang, but there were others as well.

At the very beginning of the pin-fire era in the 1850s and early 1860s, simply offering high-quality breech-loading guns placed gunmakers in the forefront of their field. After some time, this distinction would have lost its novelty, and gunmakers needed other means to remain competitive. Inventing and building proprietary patents attracted the attention of sportsmen and raised the estimation of the maker's wares above others, at least until something better came along. A long and storied history would also be helpful in terms of reputation, and a prestigious London address would provide access to well-heeled patrons. Claiming the custom of important persons was (and still is) one of the most powerful tools in advertising, better still if there was a royal connection. One would think that a firm encompassing all of these traits would be among the best known today, yet, surprisingly, little is known or written about Parker, Field & Sons. The few surviving pieces show off the high quality of their flint and percussion pistols and sporting guns, but much less is known of their pin-fire game guns.

The origins of the business started with John Field, who had been a goldsmith, sword cutler and gun maker at 233 High Holborn, London, from 1783 to 1791. He traded under his name and also as Field & Co and Field & Clarke. When John died in 1791, William Parker went into partnership with his widow, and they traded as Field & Parker. In about 1814, William's daughter, Mary, married John Field Junior, cementing the two families by blood. William Parker became gun maker to Prince Edward, Duke of Kent and Strathearn (the future Queen Victoria's father), then to King William IV.

When William Parker died in 1841, John Field Junior and his sons John William Parker Field and William Shakespeare Field started trading as Parker, Field & Sons. In 1850, John Field Junior died, and his sons took over the business. John William Parker Field was an accomplished rifle shooter; he was Instructor to the Honourable Artillery Company from 1866 to 1879, and Captain of the English Twenty shooting team. At some point, Parker, Field & Sons received the greatest accolade, becoming gunmaker to Her Majesty Queen Victoria, a recognition the firm made good use of in their case labels and advertisements. William Shakespeare Field died in 1875, and John William Parker Field continued running the firm until he died in 1879. The firm ceased business in 1886 after just over 100 years in the trade. As to the address, High Holborn street was central and very well located: Charles Dickens lived on High Holborn for a while, as did William Morris, the influential designer and promoter of the Arts and Crafts movement.

Though it produced martial, trade, and sporting arms, the firm of Parker, Field & Sons is probably best known for its military contracts. It supplied arms to the Honourable East India Company, trade guns to the Hudson's Bay and North West Companies, and military Enfield muskets to both sides in the American Civil War. It was the agent for the commercial sales of the Snider Enfield rifle. The firm sold officers’ swords, and also provided police forces with pistols, truncheons, tipstaffs, cutlasses, handcuffs, wrist shackles and leg irons, and “all articles used by police.” Parker, Field & Sons exhibited their guns and assorted wares at the Great Exhibition in London in 1851, where Casimir Lefaucheux first demonstrated his pin-fire invention to the British public.

At least three types of pin-fire game guns are known to have been made by Parker, Field & Sons: the Joseph Lang-type forward-underlever with a single bite and a rising stud for assisted opening; a similar single-bite action but with a rear-facing underlever; and a proprietary bar-in-wood partial snap-action gun. The latter is shown here, an elegant gun that was amongst the first to exhibit the bar-in-wood construction in an attempt to hide the hinge, or at least minimize the visual differences between muzzle-loaders and the early breech-loaders. It is a 12-bore, with the serial number 10567. The top rib is signed ‘Parker Field & Sons Makers to her Majesty 233 Holborn London’ in cursive and ‘Field's Patent’ within a decorative scroll. The same ‘Field's Patent’ marking is present on the sculpted underlever. The 30” damascus barrels have London proofs and bear the Field stamp and the barrel maker's mark ‘R.W.,’ possibly Robert Wall of 9 Little Compton St., Soho (1864-65). The single-bite partial snap-action rotary underlever action is John William Parker Field's patent No. 3485 of December 1862. It is only a partial snap-action; the underlever is only partially under spring tension, and it has to be closed by hand.

The slender bar action locks are signed ‘Parker Field & Sons.’ The rounded hammers have dolphinfish-headed noses, and the thin percussion fences are decorated with acanthus spray engraving. The figured stock has drop points, a feature not commonly found at the time. The foliate scroll engraving is typical, and the vacant monogram escutcheon on the top wrist is gold, not the usual silver. The gun weighs a tidy 6 lb 15 oz., and the bores are still mirror-bright. The gun still has its original leather-covered case, though it is in poor condition, and the label is darkly stained.

Records from Parker, Field & Sons have not survived, so it is impossible to date the gun precisely, nor is it possible to know who commissioned it or how many of this patent were made. One was briefly examined by I. M. Crudgington and D. J. Baker for their book, The British Shotgun Volume One 1850-1870, the only one they’d ever seen, and it might be this gun for all I know. Still, from known serial numbers, the patent date, and the barrel maker's mark, one can reasonably assume a build date of about 1865. From surviving guns, it seems that the firm of Parker, Field & Sons was still making percussion guns and even flintlocks at that time, as well as factory-made Snider Enfield rifles, confirming that a maker would make anything a client desired.

If only the case label was in the same fine condition as the gun!

 

[straightshooter]

This gun is in incredible condition! I don't recall ever seeing another with the barrel flats hollowed out to accommodate the pin on the water table like this. Perhaps I wasn't paying close enough attention when viewing images of other underlever guns.

 

[Pinfire]

This gun is in incredible condition! I don't recall ever seeing another with the barrel flats hollowed out to accommodate the pin on the water table like this. Perhaps I wasn't paying close enough attention when viewing images of other underlever guns.

Straightshooter, you're right; it's always the details and choices that matter. A squared-off pin would have been easier to make, with a matching socket cut into the barrel flats; instead, the maker chose a rounded and engraved pin and matching recess. Why have a protruding pin to start with? A countersunk pin fitted flush with the water table would have been like any other underlever gun, but it would have removed more metal from the action bar. Considering that every possible bit of metal had already been stripped to allow for the bar-in-wood construction, the maker must have decided that removing any more would have dangerously weakened the bar further, and it had to survive proof and sustained use. I believe John William Parker Field’s patent No. 3485 of December 1862, which is demonstrated on this gun, was one of the first bar-in-wood designs. There were others in due course, adopted by the bravest gunmakers to good effect.

As to the barrel flats, they are flat only in part, with the stock forming curved edges abutting the curves of the barrel tubes. That stock work around the action bar is all the more impressive considering the inletting of the lockplates and the mainsprings attached to them. That is not a lot of material to work with! Not many makers went this far, with Westley Richards being another one to do so. After seeing and handling a lot of hinge-action guns, I can say this Parker Field is a veritable tour de force of gunmaking.

Another minor, unnecessary detail-- the flower engraving on the bottom of the barrel lug. Unlike many hinge actions, the barrel lug on this gun does not penetrate the bottom of the action, which is covered in wood. Engraving the barrel lug is like engraving hidden pins on a fore-end, pretty, but almost certainly unnoticed.

 

[Pinfire]

Time for some weekend reading…

Some names in British gunmaking have taken on an almost mythical quality, and Holland is one of them. Part of the pantheon of the London gunmaking elite, the firm nonetheless began with humble beginnings. Harris John Holland set up as a tobacconist in 1835 at 9 King Street, Holborn, London. During the 1840s, he also became involved in dealing in guns, and by 1850, he had become 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. Henry William subsequently became a partner in the business at the end of his apprenticeship in 1867. In 1876, the firm's name was changed to Holland & Holland. In 1893, the factory at Harrow Road was opened, employing over 100 men. Up to that point, the firm was mainly retailing guns made for it by other gunmakers, though some would have been made in-house or finished in-house. I’m interested in Harris Holland’s early years, when he would have had a direct hand in gunmaking and guided the firm towards a very high level of quality. Harris Holland first advertised breech-loading guns at the end of 1856, and in 1857, he made six. Like all makers of the new breech-loaders, it was a slow start. Production and sales increased gradually after that, eventually averaging some 30-40 breech-loading sporting guns a year, both shotguns and rifles. In 1865, he sold 66 pin-fire breech-loaders, the year he made his first central-fire gun.

Holland advertisement in The Field, October 1856. Kufahl rifles were needle-fires.

Shown here is Holland gun number 963-A, made in 1863. Holland took quick advantage of the Birmingham inventor Henry Jones not renewing the patent on his double-bite screw grip action design, which had expired only months earlier in September 1862. Many gunmakers started building this design, which was strong and relatively straightforward to make with hand tools. The gun is a 12-bore with an unmarked Jones-type action, and the top rib is signed “H. Holland 98 New Bond St London.” The under-rib of the 29 3/4" damascus barrels is stamped ‘H.H.’, so I'm satisfied Harris Holland made this gun instead of buying it in from the trade. The engraving is particularly well done; even the border work is very detailed. In the well-shaded acanthus fronds, one can see the origins of the later firm's signature engraving style. His nephew Henry William Holland would have been in the third year of his apprenticeship when this gun was built, so he might have participated in its construction. There is much original colour on the trigger guard bow, heel plate and other parts, and it weighs 6 lb 15 oz. It was found in its original oak and leather two-layer travelling case, with label and loading and cleaning tools. Unsurprisingly, Holland pin-fire game guns in their original configuration are scarce today, as so few were made, and they would have been tempting candidates for conversion to centre-fire. It would be a sufficiently wealthy person who could afford to retire such a gun to a back shelf of the gun room, leaving it untouched!

It is uncommon to find a pin-fire cased with its loading tools. The tools, and an explanation of them, are probably worth a post of their own.

 

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Who might the original owner of this fine gun be? There are a few clues on the gun and the case. The silver escutcheon has a Ward family crest (out of a ducal coronet, a wolf’s head couped), and the case has the initials ‘J.P.W.’ printed on the leather lid. Together, I believe these identify the owner as the Hon. John Petty Ward, of Saxonbury Lodge, Ryde, Isle of Wight. He died not that long after receiving the gun, in 1869, perhaps explaining why the gun and its implements have remained in a little-used condition. JP Ward was the grandson of Bernard Ward, 1st Viscount Bangor, and the brother of Edward Southwell Ward, 3rd Viscount Bangor. JP Ward spent his career as a civil servant in India, where he was postmaster; on his return to Britain, he settled on the Isle of Wight. He was also active in London society and a member of the Royal Victoria Yacht Club. (One of the advantages of researching the ownership of early pin-fire game guns is that if you were wealthy enough to afford one, the chances were good your name was known in high society, in peerage and military records, or from scandal—sometimes all of these.)

The Hon. John Petty Ward

Saxonbury Lodge

 

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Oops, I forgot to include this one, showing the two tiers of the travelling case, with spaces for prepared pin-fire cartridges.

 

[Pinfire]

New readers, and I hope there are some, might be wondering why, as an admirer of the pin-fire, I choose to blabber away in this forum, instead of in Blackpowder and Antiques. There are several reasons. The audience in this forum has consistently shown a greater interest in the history of the ‘modern’ shotgun, in which the pin-fire played an important, if under-appreciated, part. This is not just in cartridge development, but also in the mechanical and decorative aspects. As to the black powder side of things, that is actually more complicated than it sounds, and the rule of thumb that is “black powder = old, and smokeless/nitro = new,” is well off the mark. Ask Google AI when smokeless gunpowder was invented, and you get the following:

“Smokeless gunpowder was invented by French chemist Paul Vieille in 1884, who developed the first practical formulation, called Poudre B. This revolutionary propellant, a stabilized form of nitrocellulose, was first adopted by the French military for the Lebel rifle in 1886 and significantly changed firearms technology by producing much less smoke and allowing for faster, farther-shooting bullets.” ​

Yeahh… No. The facts are correct regarding Monsieur Vieille and his Poudre B (‘poudre blanche,’ to differentiate it from black powder), but they hardly tell the whole story as far as nitrocellulose propellants are concerned. As you’ve come to expect from me, I’m here to tell you that the pin-fire game gun was very much at the forefront of the development of smokeless powders. We tend to think of the state of mid-Victorian Britain’s shooting sports only in terms of the great battle for supremacy between the perfected muzzle-loader and the nascent breech-loader, but this isn’t the whole story. The British pin-fire game gun, first appearing around 1854, coincided with the beginning of gun-cotton and other smokeless (nitrocellulose) powders. As early as 1856, and during the short time the pin-fire game gun was popular, ending around 1870, quite a few sportsmen were experimenting with the new powders. Surprisingly, very little has been published on this subject.

First, some background. Gunpowder, also known as black powder, is the oldest known explosive, having been in use since about 1350. It is composed of potassium nitrate, carbon, and sulphur, in proportions that have remained relatively constant over the centuries. Anything using gunpowder as a propellant had to be up to the task, and in 1637, the gunmakers of London obtained a royal charter to protect the gunmaking profession and the safety of those who bought guns. The Charter marked the beginning of the London Proof House, later expanded in 1813 to add the Birmingham Proof House. All gun barrels needed to be tested to ensure their safety from defects and soundness under the pressure developed by the burning powder. With the adoption of the Gun Barrel Proof Act of 1855, both Proof Houses were brought under common Proof Scale Rules and Regulations. New rules have been adopted ever since to keep pace with advances in gunmaking practices, metallurgy, and powder development.

The history of smokeless powders began in 1832, when the French chemist Henri Braconnot mixed nitric acid and wood fibres to produce a very explosive material. In 1838, French chemist Theophile-Jules Pelouze produced explosive materials by treating paper and cardboard with nitric acid. However, both these resulting compounds were unstable and unpredictable, a polite way of saying crazy-dangerous. The Swiss chemist Christian Schönbein discovered a more practical solution in 1845, anecdotally by accident. Schönbein immersed cotton fibres in a mixture of nitric and sulfuric acids and then washed out all traces of the acid. The washed, nitrated cellulose was dried, resulting in the compound known as nitrocellulose or gun-cotton. This new material provided less heat and smoke and up to six times the explosive force of the same volume of black powder. An Austrian officer, Nikolaus Wilhelm Freiherr Lenk von Wolfsberg, came up with a method to produce gun-cotton efficiently and in large quantities, which led to the adoption of gun-cotton by the Austrian military. However, gun-cotton was still unstable, which caused many accidents in its manufacture and use.

The first commercially produced smokeless powder was invented by a Prussian artillery officer, Captain Johann Edward Schultze, in 1860; his formula consisted of wood fibre cut into grains, purified, nitrated and finally impregnated with potassium nitrate or barium nitrate (as it included a component of black powder, this was more appropriately a ‘semi-smokeless’ powder). The British company, Thomas Prentice & Co. of Stowmarket, began manufacturing gun-cotton in 1863. This was followed by Sir Frederick Abel, who produced nitrocellulose at the Royal Gunpowder Mills at Waltham Abbey. Both were based on Von Lenk’s process, but with improved purification. However, the Austrian, British, French, and Prussian governments stopped using and developing nitrocellulose propellants due to frequent accidents. The manufacturing of Schultze’s powder began in 1864, and it gained a good reputation in Britain among sportsmen, aided by an energetic promotion of the new powder by the Scottish gunmaker James Dalziel Dougall in 1865.

Schultze’s factory burned down in 1868, and in the same year, Schultze’s Granulated Wood Gunpowder Company Ltd was established at 9 Northumberland Street, Charing Cross, London, with a factory at Fritham, New Forest, by a consortium licencing Schultze’s process and name. Abel continued experimenting with his pulped and purified gun-cotton, which he could compress into various shapes. In 1867 and 1868, he got some promising results when used with field artillery. However, the British military was still very wary of gun-cotton and was more concerned about safety issues than the advantages smokeless powder might bring. The Thomas Prentice & Co. factory blew up in 1871, prompting another reason why the British military discontinued further research in gun-cotton for artillery and small arms for about twenty years. Instead, compressed gun-cotton was used exclusively in naval mines and torpedoes, and the entire gun-cotton production at the Waltham Abbey factories went towards these uses for the next couple of decades.

The creation of nitrocellulose led to the discovery that certain solvents could soften the material, resulting in a mouldable mass. Advances fell primarily into making the manufacturing process safe and repeatable, developing ways to shape nitrocellulose into granules, and adding chemical treatments to control the energy release rate. Two types of solvents were used: an alcohol/ether mixture produced “single-base” propellants, where the solvents contributed very little energy, and those where nitro-glycerine was the chemical solvent, producing “double-base” propellants, where the solvent contributed significant energy to the reaction (nitro-glycerine was discovered in 1847 by the Italian chemist Ascagne Sobrero, but it was not applied as an explosive until 1864).

While the history of gun-cotton and smokeless powders is fascinating, I am most interested in their use in pin-fire game guns, hitherto known only as black-powder guns. To anyone keeping track of the above dates, it is remarkable that the first mention of using gun-cotton cartridges in pin-fire game guns appeared in a letter published in the Dec. 27, 1856, issue of the London-based sporting weekly newspaper The Field. The correspondent was Captain John Norton, an expert in military projectiles, and he wrote of “the advantage of gun-cotton cartridges over any gunpowder that I am acquainted with.” Norton wrote again to The Field, and in the Sept. 5, 1857, issue, he recommended his gun-cotton cartridge for the American-made Sharps carbine. In the Sept. 12 issue, the frequent correspondent “A Soldier,” a proponent of the pin-fire system, asked of Norton’s cartridges: “If they would not suit the now common breech-loading shot gun, and if so, where can I procure them?” Norton replied in a letter appearing in the Sept. 26 issue, “I have the pleasure to inform him that my cartridge is adapted to every description of breech-loading arms; and, that one or two respectable gunmakers in London will supply the cartridges on receiving an order describing the nature of the breech-loader for which they are required.” Unfortunately, Norton never provided details, leaving the subject entirely open to speculation as to the source of the gun-cotton, its formulation and strength, who among London gunmakers were supplying gun-cotton in prepared cartridges, and who were using them.

 

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Sportsmen could purchase ready-made cartridges, though it was more common to make up their own (or to have a footman/butler do it), with personal preferences as to shot and size/brand of powder. The Scottish gunmaker James Erskine designed a ‘machine’ that could load 100 cartridges at a go, but mostly cartridges were made one at a time with hand tools. Here are three tools used in the loading process. If primed cartridge cases were used, then powder, wadding, shot would be added and tamped down with the tamping tool. An over-card would be placed on top, and the cartridge inserted in the turnover tool. Tightening the screw handle would form the cardboard cartridge tube over the card, providing the rollover seal. If the cartridge case had already been fired (they could be re-used), then they needed to be re-capped, re-shaped and a new pin inserted, using the recapping tool, before starting the loading process. Similar tools were developed for central-fire cartridges (minus the slots for the pins). While most used black powder, some loaded their cartridges with the new gun-cotton.

Erskine's loading machine (photo credit Aaron Newcomer)

Typical pin-fire hand tools

(Much) more to follow on this story...

 

[Pinfire]

Gun-cotton and pin-fires, Part Two.

The subject of loading and re-loading pin-fire cartridges was a common one in the pages of The Field, usually focusing on cost, loading formulas, and the procurement of cases. While there was no specific mention of gun-cotton, one correspondent writing to the newspaper in the Nov. 3, 1860, issue provided the editor with a spent case supporting his argument on the reloadability of casings. The empty case was manufactured at the Fabrique Gevelot in Paris and sold by the London gunmaker Benjamin Cogswell. The lack of black powder residue in the intact, twice-fired case prompted the editor, John Henry Walsh, to comment: “We should very much like to possess a large stock of powder which would leave as little residuum as there is in the case sent us.” While this may have involved gun-cotton, Walsh was already aware of the effect of the more powerful propellant based on potassium chloride and sulphur, writing in the 15 December issue: “The objection to all these quickly-exploding powders is, that they burst the gun. Gun-cotton is, on this score, too dangerous to be used except in very small charges.” In the following issue of 22 December 1860, Walsh addressed the matter in more detail in a column titled New Gunpowders, noting:

“From time to time the public have been tantalised by announcements of various new explosive compounds, which were said to be superior to the black and dirty-looking powder with which we are all familiar. But, when put to the proof of practical experiment, each has been found wanting in the exact amount of propelling force suited to the kind of work which is to be accomplished. Fulminating silver and mercury, chlorate of potass mixed with sulphur, gun-cotton, and a host of chemical preparations similar in their nature to the above, all produce an enormous amount of gas on explosion, and give it off more quickly than ordinary gunpowder; but, in proportion to the perfection of the decomposition is each of these objectionable, because the strain upon the metal confining them is relatively far greater than that produced by gunpowder.”​

It was not before Feb. 14, 1863, that the subject came up again, with Walsh noting: “…several asserted improvements in the explosive compounds used with guns have lately been published. In this country gun-cotton has never found favour with our gunmakers and experimentalists, but in Austria it has held its own ever since its invention by Schonbein, and Baron Lenk has now given to the world an improvement in its manufacture…”

The view on gun-cotton changed with the improved product. In the Jun. 4, 1864, issue of The Field, Walsh wrote a column on the re-introduction of gun-cotton, noting: “Within the last few months, the proposed re-introduction of gun-cotton, as a substitute for gunpowder, has been attracting great attention amongst scientific and practical men, both in this country and on the Continent; and recently a large factory has been established in England for its manufacture.” This was a reference to the Thomas Prentice & Co. factory. Walsh finished by saying: “We shall watch the progress of the re-introduction of gun-cotton with interest, and shall not fail to lay the practical results before our readers as soon as they are ascertained.”

This statement started a lengthy discussion on using Prentice’s gun-cotton, coinciding with the peak years of manufacturing pin-fire game guns. Prentice & Co. began advertising their gun-cotton cartridges in The Field in September 1865. They promised uniform power, greater penetration, little recoil, lack of fouling, and the assurance that cartridges would not “injure the gun.” Positive comments from sportsmen began appearing in the newspaper in October, mostly repeating the claims of the manufacturer. In the 21 October issue, Walsh reported on his own tests with the new gun-cotton pin-fire cartridges in comparison with regular cartridges, finding a ten percent improvement in penetration, diminished recoil, and reduced fouling and smoke. Walsh did find that the pin-fire cases split when used with gun-cotton, while the cases fired with gunpowder could be re-used. Despite their single use, Walsh recommended the use of Prentice & Co. gun-cotton cartridges. At least one correspondent repeated Walsh’s test, achieving the same results.

An 1865-era pin-fire gun by Joseph Braddell & Son of Belfast, Ireland:

 

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Gun-cotton and pin-fires, Last Part.

It was not before the Jan. 6, 1866, issue of The Field that a correspondent, recognizing the increasingly widespread use of Prentice & Co. gun-cotton cartridges, pointed out the inherent danger of using these in guns proofed for the use of gunpowder only, having just lost a top-quality gun that had burst at the chamber, and having heard of similar results from others. The correspondent also pointed out that gun-cotton had just been prohibited in Austria, and that a prominent Belgian gunmaker had concluded that gun-cotton was too powerful for the metals in use. This, in turn, led to a veritable flood of responses in defence of gun-cotton cartridges used in pin-fire game guns, with some pointing out that even muzzle-loaders occasionally burst at the breech, using ordinary powder. From these letters, it can be deduced that the use of gun-cotton cartridges in pin-fire guns had become common for many sportsmen. Surprisingly, the subject of guns not being proofed for the new powders never came up again.

The Field announced in its Jan. 27, 1866, issue that a new public field trial would be conducted to test the varieties of breech-loading actions, pin- and central-fire cartridges, and gun-cotton versus gunpowder (including the new Schultze powder). In the Feb. 10, 1866 issue, the manufacturers, Prentice & Co., responded to the many letters published in support of their product, adding that they had fired several thousands of their cartridges from the same gun without ill effect, thousands of cartridges had been ordered by H.R.H. the Prince of Wales, and that their formulation of gun-cotton for sporting purposes was different in composition to that used for military ends. The Field gun trial was held in May (I’ve written a post on that trial some weeks ago, if you are new to this thread), but Prentice & Co. could not provide sufficient gun-cotton cartridges for the trial, and neither could a fresh supply of Capt. Schultze’s powder be obtained. As a result, the trial did not test the new powders.

In the Jul. 28, 1866, issue, The Field published a comparison of gunpowder, Schultze’s semi-smokeless powder, and gun-cotton (in this case, Dixon’s gun-cloth as supplied by Bussey & Co. of London). The experiment showed a slight advantage of gunpowder in penetration, equality in patterning, and demonstrated benefits of the new powders regarding cleanliness, recoil and smoke. Both central-fire and pin-fire cartridges were put to the test, as both were in common use at this time, though the agent for Captain Schultze’s powder claimed this test was the first occasion their powder had been used in a central-fire cartridge.

Subsequent correspondence in The Field suggested that gun-cotton would be widely used in the upcoming shooting season. In the Aug. 11 1866 issue, one correspondent assured readers that: “Gun-cotton in all probability will be largely used this season; and judging from last year’s experience, as well as from trials which you have made and from the information that anyone can get from the manufacturers as to the perfect control which is obtained over the combustion, I have no doubt whatsoever that it may be used with entire safety.” In the shooting press at this time, no distinction was being made between pin-fire and central-fire guns, both being considered equal. However, The Field began to doubt the safety of gun-cotton cartridges. In reaction to several accounts of accidents using gun-cotton cartridges, Walsh wrote in the 20 October 1866 issue:

“As to the application of gun-cotton for sporting purposes, we regret to say that no substantial progress appears to have been made in the construction of a good cartridge. Nothing can more clearly illustrate the truth of our remark than the fact that a manufacturing firm, supposed to be well advised on the subject , have, in rapid succession, altered the construction of their cartridge several times during the present season; and we fear that there is too much truth in Mr Révy’s observation that “we are at the mercy of manufacturers whose experience dates but from yesterday, and who are virtually experimenting at the expense and risk of the public.” Should our Government continue to neglect the subject so clearly brought before us by Mr. Révy’s, we see no hope of any progress being made except by the formation of a committee of scientific men, who should carefully test the various new cartridges and explosive compounds now offered to the public. At present we have no hesitation in coming to the conclusion that the path of safety lies in the direction of the use of the old-fashioned powder.” ​

Julian John Révy was an engineer, originally from Vienna, Austria, who was well-versed in the science of gun-cotton. He had advised Prentice & Co. on the establishment of their operation and had obtained a patent in 1865 from the US Patent Office for an improvement in the manufacture of gun-cotton. As a result, his views and concerns over the use of gun-cotton in sporting arms were taken seriously. The Field and its editor, Walsh, held the view that while it would not state that gun-cotton cartridges were dangerous, not enough was known to declare them safe. This prompted much more correspondence, mostly in favour of the new cartridges.

The Nov. 10, 1866, issue saw the return of the correspondent “A Soldier,” whose letters were part of the original discussion in 1856. He described how Prentice’s gun-cotton cartridges were much improved over previous seasons, stating: “I venture to hazard a prediction with as much confidence as I did when I first, in 1856, took to breech-loaders—namely, that in a few years gunpowder will be as little thought of as muzzle-loading guns are now.” He then added: “Mr. Horsley, the gunmaker at York, told me the other day, respecting the gun-cotton cartridges, that some of his customers, shooting thousands of cartridges in the season, told him they would just as soon taking up a muzzle-loader again as give up gun-cotton and return to gunpowder.”

The debate ran on at length, often with a touch of acrimony. By this time, Schultze’s powder was on the market (supplied by the well-known gunmaker James Dalziel Dougall), competing with Prentice & Co. cartridges and other gun-cotton cartridge makers. The back-and-forth in the letters columns of The Field continued well beyond 1870, the point at which demand for the pin-fire game gun was in decline, and my research on the subject ends. Undoubtedly, the supply of gun-cotton cartridges was much reduced after the explosion of the Prentice & Co. factory in 1871. Despite the popularity of the cartridges, it took until 1896 for the Proof House regulations to finally catch up with the use of gun-cotton and smokeless (nitrocellulose) powders in sporting guns. While pin-fire game guns were never proofed for these powders, many saw a steady diet of them, a fact that I had not fully appreciated before delving into The Field’s first two decades in print. It just goes to show that new information can be learned from reading contemporary accounts.

A Thomas Horsley of York pin-fire gun from 1866, converted to central-fire. How many gun-cotton cartridges did it consume?

 

[Mike Webb]

Wow. That Holland gun is a stunning example. Condition is remarkable. And case and all the fixings. What a find.

 

[reddog]

As per usual Pinfire I find your musings fascinating to read and look forward to each of them .I do have an issue though this constant barrage of British gun design and engineering has weakened me to the point that I found myself perusing the SXS sections for sale. Not wanting to buy something too common I was searching for something perhaps a little different while being the same if you read my drift. I settled on a H Ludlow SXS 12 bore hammer gun. I cannot find much on this at all except that Midlands gun co. was owned by a H.Ludlow as was Holloway and Naughton.The gun is in transit and I look forward to receiving it . It does look like a Midland with a Prince of Wales grip instead of the standard English stock ,,but we will see ,thank you again for all of your research and interesting facts, I have a Dougall as well so was quite impressed with his contribution to increasing the viability of new and improved powders.

 

[Pinfire]

As per usual Pinfire I find your musings fascinating to read and look forward to each of them .I do have an issue though this constant barrage of British gun design and engineering has weakened me to the point that I found myself perusing the SXS sections for sale. Not wanting to buy something too common I was searching for something perhaps a little different while being the same if you read my drift. I settled on a H Ludlow SXS 12 bore hammer gun. I cannot find much on this at all except that Midlands gun co. was owned by a H.Ludlow as was Holloway and Naughton.The gun is in transit and I look forward to receiving it . It does look like a Midland with a Prince of Wales grip instead of the standard English stock ,,but we will see ,thank you again for all of your research and interesting facts, I have a Dougall as well so was quite impressed with his contribution to increasing the viability of new and improved powders.

Thanks, Reddog. It's an addiction, what can I say? Post pictures and details when you can!

 

[Pinfire]

How many British shotguns have you handled? Many, I hope. There is something reassuring about the quality and ergonomics of a British shotgun. Nothing unnecessary, and everything thought out, refined, and perfected over several centuries of trial and experience. 20th-century British shotguns are often a bargain these days, provided you’re willing to forego some of the bells and whistles.

How many pin-fire shotguns have you handled? I’m guessing not too many, as finding these guns is a rare occurrence in Canada. What began in France in the 1830s spread into continental Europe, remaining popular there until the beginning of the 20th century. A number of cheap trade pin-fire guns made it across the Atlantic, along with a few fine pieces, some even by its inventor, Casimir Lefaucheux of Paris. The manufacture of British pin-fire guns, on the other hand, had a much narrower span, appearing sporadically in the late 1850s and all but disappearing from workshop benches by 1870, though they remained in use, if outdated and unfashionable, through the 1870s. The chance of British pin-fires making it across to our shores is much smaller, from the relatively few made, their short period of dominance, and their reliance on a British/European cartridge supply. North America, for the most part, transitioned directly from muzzle-loading to central-fire cartridges, bypassing the pin-fire altogether.

So when pin-fire game guns do show up here, I’m always curious as to how that may have happened. Immigration is the likely answer, with people bringing their favourite hunting gun with them. There were a few importers in Quebec City, Montreal and Toronto who sold guns and cartridges, though these would have been more novelties for the rich, rather than serious hunting guns. In the pages of The Field, as early as 1855, subscribers could read accounts of ‘sporting’ in Canada, describing the shooting of grouse, snipe, woodcock, plovers, curlews, and waterfowl, all of which would have enticed visitors to bring a game gun on their trans-Atlantic sojourn, or immigrants on their resettlement. Another source was military personnel stationed in Canada.

It was the latter that brought a magnificent Horsley into my possession. I haven’t been able to pin down every part of its travels, but I have a good picture. The story begins with a Gentleman who was the distant sixth in line to the family title, and therefore had to find an alternative direction. A life in the military was a good career prospect, and Papa could afford to buy a good commission. This appears to have been the case for Henry Stephen Walker, son of Sir James Walker of Sand Hutton, Ryedale District, North Yorkshire. Sir James held various posts as High Sheriff of Yorkshire, Deputy Lieutenant, and Justice of the Peace, and would later become 1st Baronet of Sand Hutton. Henry would have to make his own way in the world, albeit with a helping start. Choosing a regiment would have been carefully thought out, and Henry and Sir James chose the 13th Hussars, purchasing in November 1863 the rank of Cornet. Cornet was the lowest grade of commissioned officer in a British cavalry troop, the modern equivalent being a second lieutenant.

Officers of the 13th Hussars in 1865, by the great military artist Orlando Norie:

The 13th Hussars had a glorious history. As the 13th Light Dragoons, the regiment performed well in the Peninsular War and later at the Battle of Waterloo. During the Crimean War, the regiment was part of the Light Brigade under the command of Major General the Earl of Cardigan, first at the Battle of Alma, and then as the first line of cavalry on the right flank during the Charge of the Light Brigade at the Battle of Balaclava. Not entirely done with that campaign, the regiment also took part in the Battle of Inkerman and the Siege of Sevastopol. In 1861, the regiment was renamed the 13th Hussars, and after the Crimean War, the regiment moved around Ireland, Scotland and England. In 1866, the regiment happened to be stationed in York, about 5 kilometres from the Sand Hutton estate.

This year is important, as it was in 1866 that Henry purchased a best-quality 12-bore bar-in-wood pin-fire game gun from the esteemed gunmaker Thomas Horsley, of 10 Coney Street, York. The gun is signed “Thomas Horsley Maker York, Patent 2410” on the top rib, the 30 1/16” damascus barrels have London proofs, and the action bar has an unnumbered “Horsley's Patent No.” cartouche (from what I can tell, Horsley likely only numbered the patent actions he made for other gunmakers). The non-rebounding bar locks are marked “Thos Horsley Patent,” and the pull-top-lever snap-action is Thomas Horsley's patent No. 2410 of October 1863. There is fine foliate scroll engraving throughout, a well-figured walnut stock, and the silver stock escutcheon is tellingly marked “HSW XIII Husr” in Old English script. The gun has been improperly ‘restored,’ with the barrels blued instead of rebrowned, and the locks overly burnished.

Whether Henry had a chance to use his new gun on Yorkshire pheasants is unknown, as the regiment was ordered to embark for Canada to defend the country from a Fenian uprising, sailing from Liverpool on three steamships on the 11th and 12th of September 1866. Henry was in one of the two troops posted to Montreal, and the rest of the regiment went to Toronto. The 13th Hussars' time in Canada was mainly spent establishing a cavalry school to instruct Canadian Mounted Volunteers. Moving up in rank, Henry purchased his Lieutenancy on the 12th of October, 1867. The regiment returned to England in 1869, and Henry retired from the army and sold his commission in June 1870. He returned to Canada, settling down in the town of Cobourg along the shores of Lake Ontario, raising his family there. Whether the gun remained in Canada when Henry returned to England or whether he took it back and forth is not clear, but his prized gun is now part of my collection.

Henry Stephen Walker, photographed in Montreal in 1869, before his return to England:

 

[Pinfire]

As a follow-up, a few words should be said about Thomas Horsley, as his guns are greatly admired. Thomas Horsley was born on 17 July 1810 in Doncaster, the son of a cheese and bacon factor. His father appears to have known Richard Brunton, a gunmaker recorded in High Street, Doncaster, from 1817 to 1820, and from 1821 to 1830 at an additional location in Stonegate, York. Thomas Horsley worked for Brunton from about 1825 to 1830. Brunton retired or died in 1830, and the business in Doncaster was sold to Horsley. In 1834, Horsley opened a shop at 48 Coney Street, York, and in 1851, Horsley moved to 10 Coney Street, living above the workshop. By the way, Coney Street was originally named Cuningestrete in 1150, derived from the Old Danish for King Street, and was York’s main business venue from Medieval times.

10 Coney Street today

In the 1861 census Horsley was recorded as employing 8 men and 3 boys. In February 1862, he patented a sliding bolt single bite snap action with a push lever within the trigger guard, with the bolt apparently inspired by the Schneider/Daw snap-action. Fewer than 60 guns were built on this patent, many of which were single-barrel guns.

Thomas Horsley 1st patent, on a single barrel gun (not mine, sadly, photo from a friend)

In October 1863, Horsley patented a second version of the action, but with a pull-back top lever or slide, operating the bolt in reverse to his first patent. This patent, No. 2410, became the one most associated with the Horsley name, being built well into the central-fire era. Horsley built these ‘2nd patent’ guns as bar-in-wood, giving them a very sleek look.

Horsley, 2nd patent (converted to central-fire, fore-end missing):

In the 1871 census, Horsley was recorded as employing 22 men and 4 boys, making the firm one of the largest provincial gun makers in the country. Thomas Horsley died in 1882, with his sons and descendants continuing the business, until 1959. Unlike most provincial gun makers, who bought Birmingham-made parts, Horsley probably only bought barrel tubes “in the rough,” and employed his own barrel borers, action makers, stockers, engravers, and finishers.

 

[Pinfire]

A new week, and opening day of the grouse season!

In my latest posts, I covered the Thomas Horsley action patents, wonderful examples of British gunmaking, which came out in relatively short succession, about 19 months apart. In the proverbial search for a better mousetrap, once you come up with a better idea, you generally stop making the first one and concentrate on the new one. In the case of Horsley, this meant fewer than 60 of his first patent actions were built before he concentrated on making his second design. This scenario is not unusual in British gunmaking, where an inventor comes up with a good idea, makes a few, and then figures out how to improve the idea and obtain a new patent, or improve on its manufacture. The intense pressure on gunmakers in the early 1860s to capture a share of the very small but lucrative breech-loading market led to some remarkable ideas, and some admittedly creative outside-the-box thinking. We see the cumulative result today, in the common top-lever hinge action with a sliding under-bolt, the most common form of double gun.

In my next posts, I’ll cover two examples of a quick jump between a maker’s competing patents, which led to few examples of the first patent being made, before the ‘better’ idea took over. The first example is one of the first snap-actions, a top-lever by Westley Richards. On this action, the top lever does not pivot; it is pulled straight back with the thumb, disengaging a doll’s head rib extension on the barrels. This would have been great news for left-handers, but there is only so much leverage that can be applied in this way against a strong spring. The lever is finely chequered for grip, but it takes considerable force to operate what is effectively a sliding bolt. The Westley Richards pull-lever was given patent Number 2506 in September 1862, a good year before Thomas Horsley's patent No. 2410 of October 1863, covered in my last post, which employed a superficially similar pull slide. However, in the Horsley action, the pull lever is articulated with a substantial horizontal sliding bolt that engages the barrel under-lug for a solid mating of the barrels and action. In the Westley Richards action, the pull lever retracts from a slight indent in the doll’s head rib extension, giving it a very small contact point with the barrels. Engineers could certainly argue over the benefits of one versus the other, but suffice to say here that both were adequate in keeping the action closed for firing; perhaps this is more the result of a very careful fitting of the contact surfaces, rather than mechanical efficiency.

Perhaps as a result of the physical limitations of using the thumb as an actuator, the Horsley design typically ended with a sharp upright lip, giving the thumb something to pull against, like a hook, while the Westley Richards design required strong downward pressure to maintain contact while pulling back. A Westley Richards pin-fire gun with the pull-lever was built in 1863 for HRH Prince Albert Edward, the Prince of Wales, for his 22nd birthday. Earlier in 1862, the house at Sandringham and approximately 8,000 acres of surrounding land were purchased for Albert Edward and his future wife, Princess Alexandra of Denmark, so he had a new estate on which to shoot his new pin-fire gun. The Prince, later King Edward VII, developed Sandringham into one of the finest shoots in England. Fun fact, unlike Buckingham Palace and Windsor Castle, which are owned by the Crown, Sandringham is privately owned by the monarch (now by Charles III).

The Prince of Wales, with his pull-lever Westley Richards (reproduced from Crudgington & Baker, Volume One)

The gun here is a 12-bore with the 1862-patent pull-top-lever snap-action, still in its original pin-fire configuration, made in 1865. So many Westley Richards pin-fires were converted to central-fire (often by WR themselves), that it is unusual to find one unchanged. As was Westley Richards’s habit, the doll’s head rib extension is the only fastening point. The doll’s head has appeared as a second or third fastener on many guns, but only in guns of its originator does it function on its own. While intuitively this seems a weak arrangement, placing the single attachment point as far away from the hinge is an excellent response to the physical forces acting on the action, and it was good enough for shotguns put to heavy use. The gun has 30” damascus barrels with tubes stamped ‘WR’ for Westley Richards, and the rib displays the London address (170 New Bond Street). The barrels still have mirror bores, and the gun weighs 6 lb 12 oz.

Note the lack of barrel 'flats,' and think of the extra filing and fitting work to make this work. And, for that matter, the insane shaping of the stock and fore-end in this 'crab-knuckle' bar-in-wood arrangement.

How many were made is anyone’s guess, but it would not have been a high number; I’ve never seen or heard of another one. In October 1864, Westley Richards obtained a patent for a new action, patent Number 2623, with a top-lever that pivoted to one side. This is the configuration we are used to seeing on Westley Richards guns. The maker had decided, unsurprisingly, that a laterally pivoting lever could do the same job as the sliding lever, with less effort or strain. The pivoting top-lever is so prevalent today it is hard to grasp that it had to be first invented by someone, and furthermore, it was as an improvement to an existing design rather than a blinding revelation on its own. Of course, the top lever is only the part we see-- mechanically it is very different to the Scott top-lever and spindle mechanism that is the commonplace top-lever seen today, usually married with the Purdey sliding under-bolt. With a newer, and arguably better design, Westley Richards would have promoted the lateral top-lever, meaning that few pull-lever guns would have been made after the new patent emerged, other than to clear partially-finished stock or as special requests for clients who preferred the pull-lever.

Here is one of the lateral top-lever guns, made in 1866, and later converted to central-fire. The top rib is marked “Patent” and “Westley Richards 170 New Bond St London.” The conversion was accomplished by inletting central-fire strikers into the breech face, and fitting an extractor mechanism under the barrel breeches. Additionally, the bar locks were converted to rebounding locks. According to Westley Richards' records, this gun was ordered by W. H. Todd on June 27, 1866, and delivered on September 17; the maker's records do not note the conversion. The fore-end is not chequered, and action engraving is mostly limited to border line engraving, and acanthus scrolls on the furniture. The gun has mirror bores, and weighs 7 lb 4 oz. This gun is worth a close look on its own, on another day.

The next example is a Purdey.

 

[sillymike]

We really need to rename this thread "Pinfire academy"

 

[Pinfire]

Pinfire Academy? OK, I can live with that. The final 11 years of my career were spent explaining and teaching matters involving endless detail and minutiae, so I guess I just can’t help myself anymore. My admiration of British guns is such that I can’t avoid pointing out what makes them interesting to anyone who’ll listen, especially concerning the early years of cartridge guns. To those who do have an interest in acquiring a broader knowledge of the tools of our hobby, welcome to this thread! To those who really have no interest in the history behind the guns we enjoy, well, I don’t suppose they’ve stuck around long enough to read this… My plan was to bore trolls to death with endless blabber, and it seems to have worked. It is just us now.

Gun evolution never happened in a straight line, because creativity occurred in jumps and starts. Good ideas led to better ones, and since gunmaking is a lengthy process, there was never enough time to build many off of one idea before the next idea landed. In my last post, I covered the short interval between Westley Richards’ pull-lever and pivoting-lever designs. Another example of rapid turnaround is between Purdey’s thumb-hole actions. I described the history of the Purdey family and the London business in this thread two years ago, if anyone is scrolling that far back. For those new to these pages, I’ll summarize it here.

James Purdey (the Elder) was born in 1784 to a gunmaking father, who had learned the trade from his father, having moved from Scotland around 1690. In 1798, James apprenticed to the London gunmaker Thomas Keck Hutchinson. In 1805, Purdey began work as a stocker for Joseph Manton, and in 1808, he worked as a stocker and lock filer for the Forsyth Patent Gun Co. In 1816, James Purdey opened a shop at 4 Princes Street, Leicester Square, where he made guns under his name and for other gunmakers, notably Joseph Lang and Charles Lancaster. He also sold second-hand guns. In 1826, the business moved to Oxford Street. In 1843, James Purdey took on his son, James, as an apprentice. In 1853, James (the Elder) retired, and his son, age 29 (the Younger), took over the business. In 1857 or possibly 1858, the firm built its first pin-fire gun. It and others would have been made according to Joseph Lang's design (who was, after all, James the Elder's son-in-law), with a short forward-facing underlever and a single-bite attachment. In 1860, James (the Younger) became a Freeman of the Gunmakers Company and bought the business outright. In 1861, the firm made 41 pin-fires, all built on sliding-barrel actions from the Bastin Brothers of Hermalle-sous-Argenteau, Liège, Belgium (I’ve covered this action before). I believe the actions were purchased in-the-white and made into guns at the Oxford Street premises.

While the Bastin action was effective, the user had to manually operate the lever to close the action, as was the case with all other pin-fire actions at the time. The Frenchman François Eugène Schneider developed the first snap underlever, patented in October 1860. The design was purchased by George H. Daw of London in 1861 and immediately improved for Daw’s central-fire breech-loader, which first appeared in late 1861. The advantage of a spring-assisted action that secured the barrels upon closing was quickly appreciated, and a flurry of snap-action patents began to appear. Thomas Horsley brought out an action with a spring-tensioned trigger-guard lever in February 1862; Joseph Needham patented his snap side-lever in May 1862; the first top-lever snap action was Westley Richards' pull-lever of September 1862; and J.W.P. Field's snap underlever was patented in December 1862 (all of these have appeared in this thread). James Purdey followed suit, obtaining a patent for his double-bite snap action in May 1863, with a sliding under-bolt linked to a funny-looking thumb-operated lever in the trigger guard. It looks awkward, but it is actually very easy and smooth to use.

In Purdey's patent No. 1104 of 1863, the bolt is operated by a long under-lever hinged at the front, which is grasped through a wide bifurcated trigger guard; both the bolt and lever are separately spring tensioned. This is the version correctly known as the first-pattern thumb-hole under-lever. In February 1865, Purdey improved the design, with the lever hinged immediately in front of the trigger guard, and a single spring to tension both the lever and bolt; that is the second-pattern thumb-hole under-lever. As the design was quickly improved, few examples of the first pattern were built between mid-1863 and early 1865, in the same way as few Westley Richards pull-levers were made before he came up with the better pivoting top-lever. The second-pattern thumb-hole action was manufactured in much larger numbers, where it survived well into the central-fire era. Purdey also licensed the thumb-hole action to be built by other gunmakers, so various names turn up on thumb-hole action guns.

How many best-quality first-pattern thumb-hole guns were made by Purdey in the 18 or so months between the first gun and the appearance of the second pattern? I don't know; it couldn't have been more than a handful. At the time, the weekly newspaper The Field did not speak well of the action, questioning its durability, which would not have been good for sales. Here is a first-pattern in its original pin-fire configuration. It is a 12-bore, number 7080, probably one of the last made on the first pattern. It has the famous double bolt of the 1863 patent, and 30” fine damascus barrels inscribed “J. Purdey, 314½, Oxford Street, London” on the rib. James Lucas, the in-house engraver, would have cut the extra fine scroll engraving. Typically, the Purdey name appears in very tiny letters. At some time in the gun’s life, the stock chequering was re-cut, badly. The gun weighs an even seven pounds, ideal for a 12-bore game gun. Take note of the double-bite sliding bolt fastening system, as this is the system eventually used in most sidelocks and boxlocks, and their hinge-action clones and derivatives, to this day. No one has really come up with a better and more secure barrel locking arrangement that maintains the sleek, flowing lines of the hinge-action game gun, and it all started with Purdey’s first-pattern thumb-hole.

I can’t show guns I don’t have, so if you would like to see a Purdey second-pattern thumb-hole gun in action, follow this link:
https://www.vintageguns.co.uk/magazine/driven-pheasant-test-no-2

or, direct to the video:
YouTube Purdey 2nd Pattern Thumb-hole

 

[Pinfire]

The start of another week, and folks are still following along...

There are some problems for which you can blame the gun, and for others, the cartridges are at fault. While there has been a fair bit said about the adoption of new gun designs, not as much has been said or written about the popular adoption of cartridges and the reluctance towards using them. In the case of the central-fire cartridge, adoption was pretty quick once production and availability rapidly increased. A reason for the quick adoption of the central-fire cartridge is that by the time it was widely available, most of the misunderstandings, panic, and scares concerning the handling of primed cartridges had been exhausted on the pin-fire cartridge. You can only predict disaster and mortal harm for so long before people eventually catch on that the bad stuff just won’t happen.

It is true that the earliest priming compounds were volatile, and the formats they came in were tricky to handle. By the time the waterproof percussion cap took over, its use was simple, safe, and dependable. Cap dispensers made their use in the field convenient and practical. We might forget that many users of muzzle-loaders used commercially prepared paper cartridges that contained pre-measured powder, wadding and shot (with the shot frequently encircled with a wire mesh, to improve long-distance patterns before the invention of choke); Eley and F. Joyce & Co. were makers of these. These cartridges could be loaded down the barrel in one go. Ramming down such a cartridge and capping the nipple scarcely took more time than loading a self-contained cartridge, which was one of the reasons proponents of the muzzle-loader were not overly impressed by the quick-loading feature of the breech-loader. Muzzle-loading cartridges, lacking primers, were considered to be at zero risk of being set off, while breech-loading cartridges containing primer, powder, and shot were believed by many to be dangerous in the extreme.

In hindsight, this is amusing, but it was no laughing matter in the 1850s and 1860s. Problems with the early pin-fire cartridges were many. The most prevalent of these was the cardboard tubes splitting or separating themselves from the metallic cartridge base. This was largely due to non-standardized chamber sizes and variability in the types of cardboards used. There was the matter of the angle at which the cartridge pin projected, differing between cartridge makers, and the fact that some hammer shapes and hammer travel arcs did not squarely drive the pin into the cartridge with sufficient force to detonate the priming cap. This led to frequent missfires, a frustrating problem. There were other issues as well, including cost, but the one I wanted to talk about today was the fear that dropping a cartridge, or falling with loose cartridges in one’s pocket, would trigger an explosion and cause great personal injury.

This fear of carrying primed cartridges started with Jean Samuel Pauly’s cartridge of 1812, arguably with good reason. It became a huge issue with the pin-fire system in Britain in the 1850s, when the idea of carrying primed charges was still new. There was, at first, the fear that an exposed sharp pin posed a danger beyond the damage to one’s tailoring, as it was liable to be struck or jostled in error or by accident and cause an accidental discharge. This fear was stoked by opponents of breech-loading, gathering credence like an Internet conspiracy theory. As with any good conspiracy theory, it was spread by word of mouth, by persons who had vested interests (like makers of muzzle-loaders), and the social media of the day, namely, newspaper letter columns.

In the pages of The Field, it started with a letter that was published in the 21 March 1857 issue, by the subscriber A Lover of the Field, who, just like so many of today’s Internet trolls, was ‘just asking questions’:

“Sir,— I have carefully perused the numerous letters which have from time to time appeared in the columns of your admirable paper on the above interesting subject; they have almost persuaded me to order a breech-loader; but before I do so I would solicit as a favour from any of my brethren of the trigger information on the following points through the medium of your pages, which I know are always open to disseminate information on any subject of interest to the sporting world. I would like to know, first, how the cartridges are carried in the field. It would be impracticable to carry any number of them loose in the pocket; besides which, the little spikes that the cocks strike would very shortly wear holes in any pocket, if those spikes would not occasionally get bent or injured, or perhaps injure the carrier, or explode. … If any of your readers who have given such clear and practical information on the subject of breech-loaders would favour your paper with a few lines on the above matters, they would, I doubt not, confer an obligation on many others of your readers, as well as on A Lover of The Field.”​

Responses arrived quickly. GM wrote: “I do not think there is the least danger of their exploding.” A Good Observer wrote: “it is impossible to explode them in any other way than that of using them in your gun or otherwise fastening them upon an anvil and striking the spike in a violent blow with a hammer.” One would have thought the matter settled and sportsmen reassured, but in the 5 December 1857 issue, the Glasgow gunmaker James Dalziel Dougall entered the fray, not yet ready to support the breech-loader. He wrote: “There is quite as much risk in loading the cases and in carrying them, with the chance of a fall against a rock with the cap and powder in juxtaposition, in so many little cannons as it were, as counterbalances the very small per centage of accidents which occur in loading from the muzzle.”

In the 12 December 1857 issue, the correspondent Wideawake wrote: “I wish someone would invent a safe and portable method of carrying the cartridges – the danger from which, in the event of a fall, I look upon as the only drawback to the use of the breech-loader.” In the 26 December 1857 issue, correspondents Pero and A Soldier responded, with excerpts as follows:

“Sir,— I think both your correspondent “Wideawake” and the “Glasgow Gunmaker” [Dougall] make too much of the argument against the breech-loaders that the cartridges are unsafe to carry. They require a very forcible blow for ignition – in fact, nothing short of the regular blow of the hammer suffices. I have subjected them to various trials, such as I cannot imagine could occur to them from a fall or blow when out shooting, and I have never succeeded in letting one off.” (Pero)​

“Sir, — “Wide-awake” complains that he is daily afraid of a fall when he has pockets full of breech-loading cartridges. I really am almost uncharitable enough to wish he had one, though perhaps that would not convince him that it is impossible they would go off; the non-resistance of the body would effectually prevent their doing so. The cartridge requires to be solidly fixed when the peg is struck; so much so, indeed, that “Wide-awake” would find a difficulty in firing a cartridge holding it in one hand and driving the peg with a hammer held in the other. A cartridge may be placed in a vice, and the peg gradually staved in as far as it will go without igniting the caps. It requires a sharp rap, and the cartridge to be immovable.” (A Soldier)​

In the 16 January 1858 issue of The Field, Wideawake, still unconvinced, replied: “Your correspondent “Soldier” almost wishes me to have a fall to try my cartridges. I got one some time ago, and they did not explode, though I am not at all satisfied that percussion powder, with a pin ready to strike it, always requires the case to be fixed and a blow of 8lb in a particular direction to ignite it; and so I still think that the danger of carrying the cartridges is the principal objection to the breech-loader.”

There is no convincing some people, I guess. Several correspondents attempted to settle the matter in the 30 January issue. E.H.S. wrote: “Sir,— I have seen frequent mention in your paper of the danger of carrying cartridges. I have tried in various ways to explode them by throwing them on flags, amongst stones, &c., but cannot get one to go off. I loaded a cartridge the other day with 3 drachms of powder and 1 ½ of shot, put it in a hollow stone, and struck it with a bar; the powder exploded, bursting the pasteboard cartridge, but leaving the shot between the two wads unmoved. I think it is almost impossible for a cartridge to explode in the pocket, and if such a thing did happen I believe it would be found unattended with danger.” Correspondent Pero wrote again: “Sir,— Let “Wideawake” take a cartridge-case and fill it with shot, or anything to make it about the weight of a loaded case, and then drop it several times on a hard floor, throw it about the room, or against a stone wall or gravel walk; then, if it has not exploded, as I expect it will not have done, let him hold it in one hand, whilst he administers several hard blows with a hammer on the top of the igniting pin. If his cartridges are made like mine, it will stand all these trials without exploding, and this must surely be enough to satisfy the most sceptical that the danger in carrying them is very small indeed.”

Shortly after this, the first of the Field trials took place, and it seems like everyone forgot about the matter of impending death-by-cartridge-explosion. No one stepped forward with claims of injury. Like many faults and dangers attributed to the breech-loader, proof was ultimately lacking, and the fear of carrying primed cartridges gradually faded away.