Introduction
It almost seems as though there is a near-religious hatred
of research in the Black Powder community, with what I call “Red-neck lore,” or
word of mouth “wisdom” being passed around among people who don’t (or won’t)
read. People often judge the quality of a
fact according to how much they like the person presenting it or the length of
time he’s been shooting, ignoring the sources he used (or the lack thereof). Sadly, a lot of Red-neck lore gets repeated
in modern books or “instructional” videos when the author or presenter hasn’t
bothered to research something he just takes for granted because So-and-So said
it, or “everyone knows it,” and this adds a patina of legitimacy to what is
still just unsubstantiated nonsense.
Worse, people who know better will continue to at least
tacitly promulgate these myths, either because they are too weak to risk
offending someone or because they think people will misunderstand them if they
call something by its proper name. Sufferance
is equal to consent.
In this article we will debunk ten of these myths about
black powder revolvers. The intention
here isn’t to write detailed analyses (which would take a book) of all the Red-neck
lore being spread out there, but just to give the facts with a few brief notes
as to where to look for more information.
The myths here are in no particular order.
This article will certainly anger some people; it’s a
constant source of amazement to see how people find themselves emotionally attached
to some of these myths and who refuse to even consider that they might have
been misled. So be it. Embrace intellectual honesty, it is better to
accept correction than to continue to be wrong.
1. The Remington 1858.
There is no Remington 1858, and there never was. On 14 September 1858, Fordyce Beals filed patent
no. 21,478 (look it up), which covered aspects of the loading lever used in
some of the early Remington models.
Remington produced at least four revolvers from 1861-1863, two in army
caliber (i.e., .44) and two in navy caliber (.36). They then produced a new army-caliber
revolver in 1863 which incorporated several changes to the older models, and
since Remington already had an army-caliber revolver in production, the 1863
model came to be called the “New Model Army,” with the 1862 model then being
called the “Old Model Army.”
Unfortunately, the NMA had a stamp on it mentioning the 1858 patent
date, and people who don’t understand this think it’s the model number. Thus, calling the New Model Army a Remington
1858 is both technically inaccurate and misleading.
The same could be said of the so-called “1851 Colt Navy” and
the “1860 Colt Army,” but at least those spurious model numbers are closer to
the real model years and so aren’t as misleading, but they should really be
called the “Colt Old Model Navy” and Colt New Model Army,” respectively.
2. You can’t weigh Black
Powder.
If someone on an Internet forum talks about weighing black
powder he will instantly be set upon by a voracious pack of “experts” insisting
that black powder has to be measured by volume or the weapon will blow up. This is one of the more ridiculous myths out
there, and it came about because people don’t understand that a “grain” is
actually a measure of weight using the avoirdupois system in which there are
7,000 grains to the pound, and that it has nothing to do with volume.
Most shooters use volumetric measures which are calibrated
to approximate a weighed charge to make them easier to load with, and that
measure is calibrated for the popular (but poor quality) Goex powder, which has
a volume of approximately 0.07 cc’s/grain.
Different brands of powder have different densities, however, so that volumetric
measure won’t throw the same charge of Swiss powder, for example, as it would
with Goex, and with substitutes the problem is even worse.
Powder substitutes are designed to have roughly the same
volume as real black powder for the same chamber pressure, but they are much
less dense. Thus, ten grains of Pyrodex,
measured by volumetric measure, will only actually weigh 7.6 grains if it is
put on a scale. So in order to weigh
Pyrodex, you have to take this into account.
For example, if someone wants a charge equivalent to 30 grains of Goex
with Pyrodex, he will have to multiply the weight by 0.76, or 22.8 grains by
weight.
For more, read this article: <https://historicalshooting.blogspot.com/2021/07/measuring-black-powder-weight-or-volume.html>.
3. Colt lost their
contract to produce revolvers for the army because a fire destroyed their plant,
allowing Remington to take over.
I believed this myth for a long time, and even repeat it in
my book, Historical Shooting with Civil War Arms, but was recently set
straight by Garrett of the 11Bang-Bang YT channel. In reality, the army was fed up with the price
Colt was charging for the New Model Army revolvers, at $27.00 per unit, and
demanded they reduce the price. Colt,
being run by Elijah Root by that point, refused, so the army turned to
Remington, who agreed to sell them their New Model Army for only $17.00 per.
As a result, Colt stopped producing their NMA revolvers for
the army in November of 1863, and even laid off a number of workers as a
result. Colt did experience a fire, but
that didn’t happen until 4 January 1864, more than two months later, so it
should be clear that the fire had nothing to do with Colt losing their
contract. For more on this myth,
read: Pate, Charles. The Colt Model
1860 Revolver. Woonsocket, RI: Andrew Mowbray Inc., 2017.
4. The Colt Walker was
the most powerful handgun until the introduction of the .357 Mangum.
This is one of those myths held by the “Walker Cult” (to
steal a phrase) who just love the idea of these huge, clumsy revolvers, but it’s
actually based purely on the hypothetical claim that the revolver could hold a
lot of powder, so it had to be powerful, right?
Unfortunately, this specious theory gets shattered on the harsh rocks of
reality when tested.
Jake of the “Everything Black Powder” channel (link below)
decided to put this myth to the test. First,
the Walker is supposed to be able to take 50 grains of powder, but Jake was
unable to force anything close to that charge into a revolver with a conical
ball (it might barely be possible with a round ball). He tried several different powders because
they have different levels of compressibility.
He managed to get 60 grains of Pyrodex (see myth #2 above to see that it
has much less volume per weight) when using a round ball, but this only
produced a muzzle energy of 473 ft.-lbs.
He was able to force 45 grains of Goex 3F and a conical in, but only 40
grains of Swiss 3F since it compresses less.
The best result with any of those loads was with the Swiss, which
produced a muzzle energy of 577 ft.-lbs.
Moreover, forcing those loads in required him to use tools to load, and
resulted in damage to his loading lever; no soldier in the field would have
been able to replicate those numbers, but we will accept the 577 figure as at
least physically possible just for the sake of argument.
Jake then test fired .45 Colt cartridges (not Long Colt—that
might be another myth later) with 40 grains of Swiss 2F (2F is historically correct)
powder with a 255-grain bullet, which is a good analog for the civilian
cartridges being sold at the time. Many
people think 40 grains is too much for .45 Colt, but numerous sources show that
although the Army cartridges used less, the civilian cartridges sold at the
time did actually have that much powder (see Kuhnhausen, J. The Colt
Single Action Revolvers - A Shop Manual, Vols. I & II. Heritage
Gun Books, 2001). When fired from a Colt
Model P (or Single Action Army), Jake got an average muzzle energy of 604
ft.-lbs., almost 30 ft.-lbs. more than the nearly impossible load for the
Walker, thus proving that the commercial .45 Colt was significantly more powerful
than the Walker.
Jake’s video can be seen here: <https://youtu.be/-_EbMvLh6ZE>.
5. Cavalry troopers wore their revolvers butt forward so
that they could draw them left-handed while they used their sabers in their
right hands.
This is one of the sillier myths out there, if for no other
reason than the logical idea that if a trooper has his saber in one hand and
his revolver in the other, he has no third hand to hold the reins, making him
useless. Sabers were rarely used on
foot; officers did use sabers in one hand and their revolvers in the other when
leading infantry, but they were only using the saber to direct troops, not to
fight, so there’s no need for the cross draw, even if it was possible.
In addition, Whittaker (in his 1871 Volunteer Cavalry Instructions)
gave specific instructions about how to use the revolver before switching to
the saber:
“The revolver on the right hip should have a cord fastened
to it a yard long. The men should be practiced in firing at a target when
passing at speed, and then dropping the pistol on the opposite side, to use the
cord while they handle the sabre” (Whittaker 1871 pp. 14-15).
The myth arises because people can’t understand why else
someone would wear a revolver butt forward, and because Cowboys did, in fact,
use cross-draw holsters later, after the war, although these were worn on the
left and drawn right-handed—no saber was involved.
A simple study of the facts, especially the sources of the
period, should instantly dispel this myth, and yet it continues to persist
among “arm chair cowboys.” Note that the
manuals of arms (e.g., Cooke’s 1864 cavalry manual) specify that the holster is
to be worn at the “right side of the back,” that is, to the rear of the right
hip. Worn that way, even a slender
cavalry trooper would find it almost impossible to reach entirely around
himself to draw his pistol with his left hand.
The real reason for wearing the revolver butt forward is
that with the long barrels on military revolvers it is very difficult to draw
the revolver straight up out of the holster if the butt faces rearward. This leads to the so-called “cavalry twist
draw,” in which the handle is gripped with the right hand inverted (i.e., palm
outward) and then drawn while rotating the muzzle forward. Simple experimentation will make this plain.
6. The cowboy load.
It is common for shooters today to load only five rounds in
the cylinder of a six-shot revolver when using metallic cartridges so that the
hammer can be let down onto an empty chamber.
The reason for doing this is that the Colt Model P (or Single-Action
Army) has no safety pins or notches on the cylinder as found on earlier
cap-and-ball revolvers so that the hammer could be put down between cylinders
for safe carrying. This method of
loading is called the “cowboy” load today because it is thought that cowboys
must have done it in period or else they’d have been killing one another
accidentally every day.
The fact remains, however, that regardless of how much sense
this might make for us today, there is little or no evidence for this practice
in period. In 1876 Colt published an
advertisement for his Model P revolver containing instructions to load six
rounds and pull the hammer back one click into what Colt called the “safety
notch.” Colt continued to publish
identical instructions through to at least 1940 (the end of production). In addition, the U.S. Army instructions for
the Model P included exactly the same instructions. See John Pitman’s The Pitman Notes on U.S.
Martial Small Arms and Ammunition, 1776-1933, Vol 2.
Other examples from this period abound with the same
information, for more, see this video:
<https://youtu.be/V-A7uokxQ-c>.
I am not recommending loading six rounds, and I would argue
that it is dangerous to do so because it is possible that the notch on the
hammer mechanism can break and in extreme cases might possibly allow the hammer
to fall. It is incredibly unlikely, and
few accounts of such a misfire can be reliably documented (in other words, not
just word of mouth, but actual records).
At the same time, we no longer rely on these obsolete weapons for combat
(even if some folks might carry them today), and so having only five rounds is not
very much of a loss given how we use them today. But the myth of the cowboy load is just that—a
myth. It is a modern practice driven by
hypothetical safety issues not driven by real, documented accidental
discharges.
7. Remington cylinder
swapping.
Most people have seen Clint Eastwood in the movie where he
empties his Remington, removes the cylinder, and replaces it with a fresh
cylinder so he can keep firing. This appeals
to cowboy wannabes, especially ones who don’t practice loading much and find that
it takes a long, long time to reload a revolver, especially with loose powder
and ball. They notice how easy Remington
cylinders are to remove, and applying their “great brains” to the problem
(research would be too hard), decide that it must have been done in period. Some even go so far as to make leather pouches
to hold extra cylinders on their gun belts, abandoning history utterly.
In reality, this is a modern idea; Civil War revolvers were
not issued with multiple cylinders (although the early Colt Paterson did come
with two cylinders), and there seems to be no evidence for the practice in
military use, instead, they just carried multiple revolvers so they didn’t have
to reload. Indeed, after one battle in
which several Southern bushwhackers from Mosby’s Rangers were captured, they
were found to have an average of six revolvers each. If cylinder swapping was done, why carry the
extra revolvers—a significant weight and encumbrance?
Here it’s impossible to show definitive proof that no one
ever carried multiple cylinders (and in history we should learn never to say
never) for the simple reason that they didn’t write about it because it wasn’t done,
and it’s rarely possible to prove a negative.
The evidence we do have for revolver usage, however, makes it clear that
this was not a normal practice.
8. G stands for graphite.
Black powder intended for use in firearms comes in several
different granulations, commonly graded from 1F (Fg) to 4F (FFFFg), with 1F
being the coarsest and 4F being the finest. The lower-case G indicates that the
powder has been “glazed,” which means that is has been tumbled to polish the
grains and free them from dust (Gibbons, Brett. Like Fire and Powder: Black Powder for the Modern Shooter.
Privately Published, Kindle edition, 2021 p. 12). Contrary to popular opinion,
the lower-case G does not stand for “graphite” (id. p. 95).
Nor is this process intended to make the powder “hotter,” or
more powerful, as some claim:
“Glazing gunpowder does not make it
any stronger as some imagine; it is for the purpose of giving equal density to
the grain and polish to the surface, rendering it less liable to absorb
moisture, and better able to withstand knocking about.” (Russell, Alex. Illustrated
Hand Book of Rifle Shooting, with an Appendix. Toronto: Hunter, Rose &
Co, 1869, p. 71.)
9. Finer granulations
burn hotter.
Many modern shooters believe that finer powder is “hotter”
than coarser powder and is also more powerful; they argue that using powder
that is too fine can cause the weapon to explode. This is absolutely untrue—all
black powder (of the same density) has exactly the same amount of energy.
“Assuming the powder is the same
density, a 70-grain charge of FFFFg contains the same amount of energetic
material as a 70-grain charge of Fg. One is not “hotter” than the other. It is
exactly the same material. Obviously, the crucial difference is that the
70-grain charge of FFFFg has vastly greater surface area exposed by its enormous
number of small grains, while the Fg has a much smaller number of larger grains
with far less exposed overall surface area. The FFFFg also doesn’t “burn
faster,” it burns at exactly the same regression rate as the Fg, but because
the particles of FFFFg are smaller, they’re burnt up in much less time than the
Fg. This may be seen as rather subtle, but it is very important.” (Gibbons 2021
above, p. 109.)
So finer powder isn’t more powerful and doesn’t burn any
faster, but it does burn up sooner because the grains are smaller and have less
surface area. This means that when using a weapon with a short barrel, such as
a revolver, coarser powder granulations may not have time to fully combust
before the bullet leaves the muzzle, which would cause it to be wasted. This is
why 3F powder is the most common choice for black-powder revolvers, whereas
coarser granulations are better for rifles.
10. Grease over chamber
mouths and chain fires.
In this section we will cover two closely related myths at
once, the first being the use of grease over the chamber mouths and the second
being chain fires in cap-and-ball revolvers.
Many Internet experts demonstrate how to load cap and ball revolvers, finishing
the process by slathering something over the chamber mouths. They claim that they do this for two reasons,
first, to push grease down the bore when the revolver is fired to help reduce
fouling, and second, to prevent chain fires.
In actual fact, neither idea is completely wrong, the myth really comes
from their misunderstanding of what they’re doing.
Strictly speaking, no grease is required to shoot a
cap-and-ball revolver at all. In fact, the
instructions issued with civilian sales of Colt’s cap-and-ball revolvers make
no mention of grease, implying that they were loaded with just powder and a
bare ball; Colt only says that after firing, the revolvers should be
disassembled and thoroughly cleaned and oiled.
We tend to think of a range day where we fire fifty or sixty rounds, and
failing to use grease when doing so will result in a bore that is too fouled to
permit good shooting, but we see little evidence that people normally used
revolvers that way. In combat six rounds
might be fired, but the difficulty of reloading meant that no more than that
would be fired from any one revolver (see above about carrying multiple revolvers)
before the end of the engagement, and at that time the revolver could be
cleaned at leisure.
Moreover, by the time of the Civil War and afterward, the
evidence suggests that the vast majority of cap-and-ball revolvers were loaded
with paper cartridges, not loose powder and ball. Since paper cartridges came with greased
bullets the grease was already there and didn’t need to be added.
Chain fires can happen in one of two general areas: at the
chamber mouths or at the nipples. People
believe that by slathering grease over the chamber mouths they eliminate the
chance of a chain fire, but sadly, this is untrue for two reasons. First, as long as the balls fit correctly and
the chamber mouths are not distorted (i.e., they are round), when the ball is
rammed home it will take up the entire space inside the chamber so that no
errant spark can get into the powder in adjoining chambers when the revolver
fires. One way to tell if the ball is of
the correct size is to notice whether a thin ring of lead is cut off as the
bullets are rammed; the ring of lead isn’t necessary, and if the chamber mouths
are chamfered it can’t happen, but if the ring is cut that is proof that the
chamber is sealed.
Second, assuming that the ball is undersized or the chamber
mouth is distorted so that the bullet can’t seal it correctly, most kinds of
grease won’t do any good, regardless.
Much of the time we see the Internet “experts” using soft, easily melted
greases such as Crisco or Bore Butter.
When the weapon fires, the heat and the force of the explosion usually
melts these kinds of materials and shakes them loose, leaving no protection at
all. They can be problematic even if the
day is hot before firing starts because they are so soft that the sun alone can
cause them to melt. If this method is to
be used successfully it is necessary to use a harder grease, such as the
Ordnance Department’s recipe of tallow and beeswax, which must be scraped into
place with a something like a knife blade.
Assuming properly sized balls, most chain fires actually
happen at the rear of the chamber due to gaps between the caps and
nipples. This is caused by the fact that
all the cap suppliers have different sizes, and not all of them fit well on all
nipples. This is often exacerbated by a
shooter who, realizing that his caps are a bit loose, pinches them to make them
stay on—a horrid and dangerous practice.
