Smokepole Seduction

As the drive progressed, birds had flushed in all directions, even back over the beaters, but my barrels remained cold and clean, and now it was almost over. Then came my chance, a hen pheasant, curling towards me on the wind. I thumbed back the hammers, mounted, swung, and squeezed. The gun boomed, and through the smoke, I saw the head flip back, the wings fold, and the body begin its fall. Just one bird on a small shoot, but a special pleasure because it was the first I had taken with an antique percussion gun acquired at Holt’s March ’23 auction (as reported previously in these pages). Equally gratifying was a generous call of “good shot!” from the lady tapping up the hedgerow to my right. Now came the muzzle-loader’s dilemma: reload immediately, and risk being caught out by another bird, rod-in-hand, nipples un-capped, or wait, and trust to a single barrel? I waited, heard a cock flush, and tracked its rise. Moments later it too was on the ground as smoke and feathers drifted away together on the breeze. Those old gunmakers knew how to craft a sporting gun!

My gun
This one was created circa 1840 by Frederic Barnes & Co, a now-forgotten firm that prospered in London, Birmingham, and Sheffield between 1825 and 1904, advertising itself in 1850 as a “Rifle, Gun and Pistol Manufacturer” offering “a large assortment of single and double fowling pieces, rifles, muskets, swords and cutlasses”. I’ve encountered Barnes’ name on a few pepperbox pistols and revolvers, and even on a 4-bore wildfowling gun, but the only double fowling piece of his I’ve seen is the one I now own.
Conveniently for collectors, Section 58(2) of UK firearms law permits antique firearms to be “sold, transferred, purchased, acquired or possessed as curiosities or ornaments” without a licence. However, if you decide to shoot them, and before acquiring any ammunition, you must put them on your ticket. Before doing either, I took the Barnes to Francis Lovel’s for a check-up. Francis does all his game shooting with antique muzzleloaders, so was just the man to advise on the shootability of my new acquisition, and to give me some invaluable tips on loading, cleaning, and ancillary gear.
With the bores gauged and the barrel thickness confirmed sufficient, things were looking good. Now I needed to find someone to make a replacement for the missing rod-stop at the muzzles. Without this piece, the loading rod would jump forward on firing, so would have to be set aside when shooting. A minor issue, but I didn’t want the gun to remain incomplete, and I dislike the look of an ML gun with empty pipes! The solution was provided by Mid Counties Blacking in Lichfield, where master gunsmith, Darren Hartshorne, cut, filed, fitted, and browned a new stop that looks like it has always been there, and it now traps the tip of the rod with precisely the right amount of tension.

Bits and pieces
With the gun now ready to shoot, I added it to my shotgun certificate, informed my FLO, and set about acquiring the necessary ammunition and accoutrements. Key sources here were (again) Francis Lovel, plus black-powder specialists, Henry Krank, and antique gun restorer, Tim Owen, of Cables Farm.
From Francis, I acquired CCI No.10 percussion caps and all the Swiss No.2 (3fg) powder allowed by my explosives licence. You will need one of these, but they are readily granted if you are putting black powder (BP) guns on your certificate and have the requisite compartmentalised wooden storage box. To note here is that stringent storage regulations for retailers dissuade most gun shops from selling BP, so resupply may involve venturing further afield.
From Krank’s, I bought both No.5 and No.8 lead shot, the former for pheasants and the latter for decoying the jackdaws plaguing my local dairy farm, and for breaking clays at the Oxfordshire Shooting Ground’s inaugural muzzle-loaders’ shoot in August, which Francis had kindly invited me to attend. The latter was a most excellent event and one all the attendees very much hope will be repeated in 2024. Also sourced from Krank’s was a bag of pre-lubed felt over-powder wads, which seat more smoothly than dry wads and help soften the fouling to keep you shooting for longer.
From Cables Farm, I bought a set of star-shaped, 3D-printed cap dispensers. Each arm of the star is tipped by a clip that holds a single cap, and operation is simple and quick. You can clip the stars onto a lanyard or just keep a handful in your pocket. There’s also a new, 60-cap ‘snail’ version, plus a handy uncapping tool.
After caps, powder, wads, and shot, came over-shot cards. Francis suggested using half a lubed wad, or simply keeping the muzzles elevated after loading! Both methods work, but I now use an 18mm wad punch, nylon hammer, and block to cut my cards from old egg boxes, and load via a neat dispenser from Cables Farm.

Taking charge
The classic charging method employs a pair of flasks for powder and shot. The shot is dropped directly into the barrel, but the powder is first dispensed into a measure to avoid any wayward flash turning the flask into a grenade. Powder flasks have internal cut-off plates to prevent such disasters, but better safe than sorry. A point to note is that Krank’s offers a great selection of modern reproduction flasks, which are guaranteed to be complete, in working order, and fully strippable for cleaning, unlike many of the pricier antique originals on sale elsewhere.
Initially bewildered by the choice of flasks, I opted for clear plastic 5ml vials I could pre-load at home, and refill in the field from canisters of powder and shot if necessary. The vials tucked snugly into my 20-gauge cartridge belt. Buying sets with different-coloured screwcaps meant I could tell powder (orange) from filler (white) and shot (blue) at a glance. Now, however, I usually assign four front pockets in my coat or waistcoat to powder, filler, shot, and wads, reserving the game pocket at the back for the empties. Meanwhile, an MTM Case-Gard deluxe shotshell case provides a handy 33-charge reserve.
My loading sequence involves dropping in the powder and filler, tapping the charge down firmly, adding the shot, and lightly pressing the over-shot card into place. As the old adage goes: “Ram the powder, not the shot – hit a lot!”
The original loading rod is adequate but built as short and light as possible. Therefore, I fabricated something more robust from 36” x ½” oak dowel: well-varnished, tipped with a copper ferrule at the base and an antique brass doorknob at the top, and ringed with red and green tape to indicate the load status. When shooting from a hide, the bottom section of a spare hide pole makes an excellent rod stand, while a screw-on tray comes in handy when refilling the vials.
Working up a load was simple. I began with a ‘square charge’, which is a 1oz measure of shot, plus an equal volume of powder and a ½” lubed wad in between. This delivered decent patterns but felt a little brisk, so I reduced the powder charge slightly and achieved a milder load that gave more even coverage. Later, I switched from wads to filler (semolina), which improved patterns further. Patterning at different ranges and shooting at pine boards enabled me to identify the point where density and penetration ceased to be sufficient to ensure reliable kills and to work within that limit.

Getting out there
As a familiarisation exercise, I took the Barnes decoying and loved the experience. The old gun was surprisingly sprightly, proving a match for the agile jackdaws. Also, racing to reload as birds circled the decoys added extra spice. There were further delights, too, like repurposing the tissues in my pockets when I ran out of wads, and not having any empty cases to collect and dispose of afterwards!
The only issues were nipples that got coked up after around 25 shots and needed to be cleared with a pricker; one accidental ‘dry-ball’ load (no powder), which was quickly drawn using the ‘worm’ screw on the original loading rod; and a couple of instances where the cap on the second barrel was shaken loose by the first shot, which taught me to press down more firmly when capping.
In mechanical terms, safety comes in three forms: unloading, uncapping, and half-cocking. Black powder can ‘cook-off’ in a hot barrel, so guns need to be cleared by firing before going in a slip. On driven days, this can mean shooting after the horn for the end of the drive has sounded, so prior warning is required. Uncapping provides a lower level of safety but is advisable when crossing obstacles as a walking gun. Finally, the half-cock position, which immobilises the triggers, is roughly equivalent to applying the safety on a hammerless gun.
Nevertheless, disengaging the safety is much faster than pulling hammers to full cock, so you have to think ahead, as well as learn to return the hammers safely to half cock if the anticipated shot fails to materialise: an action best preceded by uncapping. Unusually, the Barnes features a grip-safety that blocks the triggers until squeezed against the hand of the stock: an innovation attributed to the great Joseph Manton and intended to deliver half-cock safety when at full-cock.
All this can be distracting, compared to the simplicity of modern guns, yet that very simplicity can become as dull as the complexity of operating a percussion gun is engaging. On small driven days such as ours, it adds interest and carries few penalties. The best arrangement, however, is to share a peg with a fellow front-stuffer, taking turns to shoot as the other reloads.

Cleaning up
The only major drawback to this form of shooting, therefore, is cleaning the gun afterwards. I try to keep the fouling soft throughout the day by spraying sunflower oil down the barrel after loading and before the drive home. Once home, I clean with minimal delay.
First, I remove the nipples with a suitable key (a clock-winder in my case) and drop them in a glass of warm water prior to cleaning and drying with pipe cleaners. Then, with the breech ends immersed in a bucket of water, I run a bronze brush through the bores until the water jetting from the vents flows clear. Further work with a strip of green Scotchbrite on a jag, and then with another of Spontex completes the first phase, after which I hang the barrels from a wire hook and flush liberally with freshly boiled water, which leaves them oven-glove hot and promotes rapid air-drying.
Once the barrels are bone-dry, I give them a further scrub with a bronze brush, and lightly oil inside and out for ongoing protection against corrosion. Even so, it is worth checking the job the following day and giving the barrels a further going over with brush, flannelette and oil bob if needed. Powder residue also needs to be brushed and wiped from around the fences and hammers and any parts pawed by sooty hands. In short, you have to like cleaning guns. However, when they’re as historic and finely crafted as the Barnes, it becomes an act of respect and affection rather than a chore.

Well, then
Such is the summary of my 9-month journey into game shooting with an antique muzzle-loading shotgun (a one-time mystery that has become a familiar pleasure and risks turning into an ongoing addiction), that I have recently acquired flintlock fowling pieces in both single and double-barrelled formats. With hindsight, I should probably have ‘learned the ropes’ on a modern reproduction by Pedersoli or Beretta, but I couldn’t resist the charm of a true, and still affordable, English classic.