Black Powder Revolver Myths

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.

No One Cares About Your Group Size

Talk to someone who has just come from the range, and in the majority of cases the first thing you’ll hear is the “group size” he achieved, by which he means the extreme spread of a group of shots.  The title of this article notwithstanding, group size does have some validity as a gauge of accuracy, but not a lot, especially taken by itself.  In this article we will explore why group size is a relatively meaningless way to analyze a shot group and the things that really should be considered in addition to group size.

Consider the two hypothetical target pictures here.  The starred black dots are the bullet hits, or “Points of Impact” (“POI”).  The dashed black rectangle represents the extreme size of that group of shots—the “Group Size.”  The red dot is the bullseye that the shooter was trying to hit, which we will call the “Intended Mean Point of Impact” (“IMPI”); in other words, he wanted his group of shots to be as close to that point as he could make them.  The blue dot marks the actual center of the group of shots, or the “Mean Point of Impact” (“MPI”) of the group.  The green arrow is the distance from the MPI to the IMPI.

Looking at the two targets, note that the black dashed rectangle is exactly the same size in both, which means that both groups have identical group sizes.  Yet even a casual glance at the targets will show that the group shown on Target A is far worse than that on Target B; anyone can see that, even without the information in this article.  Regardless, let’s go on an and analyze why B is better than A with an eye toward understanding how we should be gauging our shooting results.

In a perfect string of shots, all the POI would be exactly on the IMPI—in other words, every bullet would hit the bullseye directly and all the bullets would go through the same hole in the target.  In reality, that almost never happens, so a more realistic way of stating the goal is that we want two things:  First, we want the group to be as small as possible, and second, we want the center of the group of shots to be as close to the IMPI as possible.  To do that, we have to have a way of determining the center of the group, which we defined above as the MPI.  We can then simply measure the distance from the MPI to the IMPI.

One of the things that’s obvious when looking at the two targets is that Group A is much more spread out than is Group B.  Although they have exactly the same group size, Group B’s shots are much more closely packed together, with only one sloppy shot and one flyer.  Thus, it’s obvious that just knowing the group size tells us very little.  A better gauge is to calculate the Mean Radial Deviation, which is defined as the average straight-line distance of each shot from the MPI.  In the nineteenth century this was sometimes called the “Figure of Merit” (see link below).

The next thing that’s obvious about these targets is that the MPI of Group A is much farther from the IMPI than is the MPI of Group B—almost twice as far.  That means that not only is Group A “sloppier” than Group B, it’s also less accurate.

From this, it should be obvious that three things need to be considered when judging a group of shots:  First, the group size; second, how closely the shots are packed together; and third, how close the center of the group of shots is to the bullseye.  So knowing the group size is fine, but it really tells us very little.

This article was intended as a discussion of why group size isn’t nearly as important as it is generally taken to be rather than a “how to” piece.  To learn more about the Figure of Merit (mean radial deviation) and how to calculate it, including a link to a video demonstration of how to do it, see the article here:  The Figure of Merit.  Also, regular readers of this blog will probably be sick of reading about it by now, but the String Test is a faster, easier way to gauge all three factors discussed above in a single number; to learn more abut it, see the article here:  The String Test.