LESSONS FROM THE GUNMAKERS
AND ENGRAVERS
OF
originally published in "the Double Gun Journal "as:
Barry Lee Hands
For several years my friend, stock maker David Trevallion, formerly of
James Purdey & Sons, had encouraged me to get together with some of his
colleagues in the fine firearms business in
In early May I flew into
Alan and I spent the following day in the Cogswell and Harrison workshop
examining guns in progress and some very nice black powder double rifles that
had just come in for sale. They
were lovely guns, in their original cases, and true to the usual story, they had
been carefully put away in someone’s attic many years before, forgotten, then
found by a relative with no interest in the guns other than the financial
bonanza they might bring. Alan
purveys the full line of Cogswell and Harrison shotguns, including
Beesley-action sidelocks, Woodward-type over and under shotguns, the
Marcus Hunt does most of the firm’s engraving, though of course a client can specify another engraver. It was an exciting and gratifying day spent among some of the finest examples of the gunmakers’ and engravers’ craft produced in the last one hundred years.
The next morning I bade Alan and his family good-bye and drove
northwestward to Chipping Norton in Oxfordshire for a reunion with my friend,
Marcus Hunt. We had not seen each
other for five years, and it was a pleasure to see him waiting on the stoop when
I drove up. A few minutes later in
his garden, over pints of
After Julia, Marcus’ wife arrived we fired up the barbie and during
dinner continued our discussion of all things firearms and engraving related.
Then Marcus took me into his workshop to show me a pair of William Evans’
sidelocks he was engraving in large Victorian foliate scroll.
I mentioned to Marcus that I had for a number of years been gathering
materials on the history of aesthetic ornamentation in order to write a history
of the role of engraving in ornamentation of objets d’art as well as
weaponry. My researches to date
have convinced me that while it was not possible to determine when and where
they arose with any exactitude. Most of the various types of ornamentation had
been firmly established in
Marcus continued: “that presents a problem to some of our contemporary engravers who have been self-taught, but have not learned the rules. If you know the rules then you can alter the rules to fit a particular situation—and if the situation doesn’t lend itself to the rule then you can adapt the rule to the situation.” But, Marcus said with his usual infectious grin, “if you don’t know the rule in the first place, you won’t be able to adapt the rule; you will break the rule, and end up making a mistake that will stand out straight-away.”
Our discussion turned to the sharpening of gravers. Marcus uses a long, curved belly on the bottom of his tools. This results in a rake angle very similar to the angle I had observed Italian engravers put on their gravers, and poises the tool at a higher aspect to the work. The Italians, however, add a setup angle of approximately 15 degrees on the bottom of their tools before stoning in the belly. However, Marcus and I agreed that it did not matter which method is used to shape the graver: the curve in the belly, Marcus’ technique, or the 15 degree stoned in initially as the Italians prefer; the results to the engraver are the same. The heightened angle raises the engraver’s hand, increases visibility of the work, and makes the cutting of metal easier.
Marcus and many of the Italian engravers I observed work with a loupe and visor for magnification, making it easier to use the more radical belly angle. Conversely, many American engravers, including myself, use a microscope rather than loupe and visor. We tend to use less “belly” with a resulting lower angle, or “rake” to the work. Then have the clearance necessary to operate in the confined space under the microscope.
Marcus uses nothing but old-style stones for sharpening his tools, and sharpens freehand, without special jigs or tool holders. He showed me his sharpening technique: hold the graver upside down in the palm of the hand, and stroke the tool face quickly back and forth on the stone’s surface to sharpen it. After years of practice this simple sharpening technique is second nature to Marcus, and without conscious thought he always holds the tool at exactly the proper angle for maximum sharpness and proper angle in minimum time.
Later in his library Marcus showed me some of his digital portfolio stored in a personal computer. We focused on a .500 sidelock featuring rhino and elephant executed in the Bulino technique with deep scroll surrounding them. Marcus showed me how he bent the rules of ornamentation by utilizing implied points of origin to bring large scrolls out of smaller scrolls—an unusual technique taught to him by his father, Ken Hunt. I recall having seen this technique once before, in some engraving by the incomparable Harry Kell. The effect was very pleasing, although strictly by the rules it was incorrect. But Marcus’ observation was true: if you know the rules of engraving you can adapt and alter them in executing a singular work of art.
Next Marcus punched up photographs of sideplates with wild boars done in Bulino and commented upon the difficulty of engraving animals such as boars or bears “because in many respects, they are simply great balls of fur. One really needs a good sense of the anatomy beneath the fur to give the animal the best possible definition.”
I asked Marcus about his use of etching since his father is well known for this technique. I had had telephone conversations with Ken Hunt about the merits of etching, and having used this technique in some of my recent engraving, I was interested in Marcus’ thoughts. “I judiciously etch a surface with acid because it permits me to bring down the background in one-third the time it would take me to reduce the background with a chisel.”
Marcus moved to his vise and began employing the simple tools and
techniques that engravers have used for thousands of years.
I saw a pneumatic tool on his bench and asked about it.
“I still do a lot of my chasing by hand, even though people say, ‘ooh,
you use a machine now? Isn’t that
cheating?’ I don’t think it’s
cheating at all. If Michelangelo
had had a pneumatic tool, you can be sure he would have used it when it suited
him—and he would have left us even more of his wondrous art if he had!”
I asked Marcus if he noticed any differences between working with a
pneumatic tool and hammer and chisel.
“I love it, and there is definitely a major advantage to the air-driven
tool. When I was working with hand
tools all the time I developed a repetitive stress injury in my shoulder and
neck. I was really in agony!
My doctor told me I needed to find another line of work.
I thought, oh great! Then I
first tried it in
The next morning I was extremely reluctant to say good-bye to Marcus and Julia, but I had an appointment with his father later in the day, and I had to return to Maiden’s Green to collect Alan en route to Ken Hunt’s house. I admit to missing a turn here and there on the motorway, but in due course Alan and I were seated comfortably in overstuffed chairs in their living room, where Ken and his wife, Shiela, very much the gentleman and gentlewoman, made us feel welcome and at ease. Ken told us where he had first learned to engrave, and how Harry Kell has always been his idol and lodestone among engravers of the past. He also praised fellow engravers from his youth who had very kindly shared their vast, collective knowledge with him. However, when I asked how Ken Hunt had learned the technique of “painting with gold” for which he is best known, he modestly admitted that he was self-taught in that style.
Ken showed us a small bronze vase, Japanese in origin and very old. The vase was incised in relief with vines, leaves and flowers. Some of the ornamentation appeared to be copper while other ornamentation on the vase appeared to be different colors of gold. Ken explained that the design was incised into the vase, and then the leaves and stems were inlaid in bronze, and then damascened with the various colored metals to produce an exquisite overall effect. Ken explained that the Japanese had little in the way of indigenous precious metals with which to work, and developed the technique to make the materials go further. He explained that the Etruscans had separately hit upon the same style, and made headpieces and large ornamental jewelry that appeared to be massive, but were in fact, hollow and thin-metaled, using the skills of the engraver rather than large amounts of gold to accomplish the same effect.
Then Ken Hunt led us up a steep, twisting staircase to his fourth floor studio where two large windows admitted a flood of natural light. There were literally hundreds of tools, gravers, jigs, drawings books, pots of beeswax, etching materials and books of all kinds heaped on his work bench and every other available surface! Ken showed me a photograph of a pair of guns. “This pair had gone missing, but in some way they turned up and David Trevallion was called in as a consultant. As soon as he telephoned me the serial numbers I told him the name of the client. Every firearm I engrave has its own distinctive personality.
“Many years ago I engraved a firearm for a well known collector, Magnus Meany. Magnus Meany was thrown by a horse, broke his back and could not use the gun. The King of Afghanistan came into the picture looking for a firearm to present to Anwar Sadat, President of Egypt. The King of Afghanistan saw the gun I had engraved for Magnus Meany gun, with partridge and similar birds, and said, ‘ooh, can you take this gun and add some gold?’ As you know Sadat was assassinated, and the King of Afghanistan had to flee his country. The gun he presented to Sadat went missing for awhile, but it turned up. I engraved guns for Brezhnev when he was the Soviet Prime Minister. I engraved guns for the Shah of Persia, and Ceausecu, the Romanian Dictator—both deposed. But as their guns do turn up, and I may be consulted about their provenance.”
As Ken Hunt showed me around his studio he explained how firearm
engraving was done in
“Engraving styles remained static for decades, and the guns were done very quickly. Coming into a shop the metal components would be divided among several engravers: a lockplate here, an action there, the screws given to an apprentice. Perhaps one engraver did nothing but the rose and scroll, another would do nothing but flowers, another the lettering, and the piece would be finished in two or three days.”
This system persisted through the two world wars.
“In those days there were no exchanges among engravers in the
Ken asked me how I went about inlaying a gold figure. I described my process of excavating a shallow cavity in the outline of the figure, then undercutting it and raising burrs in the background. Once I had shaped the cavity I would use a jeweler’s saw to cut the requisite shape from a sheet of 24k gold .020” in thickness. Ken smiled: “why go to all that trouble when you can use thinner material and cut out the shape with scissors?” He handed me a piece of gold sheet, very thin; I estimated its thickness as no more than .003-.005”. “For me this is very heavy material.”
Securing a small flat steel plate in his engraving block, Ken cut several small parallel lines with a hand graver. Next he selected a very small flat chisel with a cutting surface width no greater than .020”. The chisel had been ground from a piece of hacksaw blade with teeth still intact and no handle fitted. Using hand pressure only, the chisel flexed like a spring as Ken pressed the chisel’s point into the sides of the parallel lines to incise small burrs. Next Ken picked up a short length of gold wire, perhaps .010” in diameter and using a small round tool in the shape of a T pressed the wire into the undercut groove. Then using only a small hammer with a planishing face and the most delicate of well-guided taps he seated the gold wire firmly. Finally Ken used a tiny flat chisel to shave away the excess gold, and a stone to bring everything to level. The result was a lovely, perfectly straight gold-filled line created in a few minutes using only the simplest of hand tools.
I was interested in the black areas Ken had created in the necks of ducks he had engraved on a P. V. Nelson sidelock that he showed Allen and me, and asked if those areas were inlayed. “For this particular engraving commission I elected to relieve and stipple the areas to give them a black aspect. Engraving a fine firearm is like painting, there’s nothing to say you shouldn’t do this or that. You as the engraver must determine what is required to create the work you envision, and you say to yourself it’s going to be bloody hard work. But you have to use the technique you consider most appropriate for the artistic work at hand if you are to remain true to your calling.”
Our conversation then moved to a discussion of fine English scroll. Ken picked up a graver and cut a scroll by placing the cutting point lightly but firmly against the steel to maintain constant contact while deftly turning the engraving block with his left hand. When he reached the end of the cut he popped the tool out of the steel with a noticeable click. I watched in fascination as more delicate scroll took shape beneath his hands. Then Ken motioned for me to sit at his bench.
I picked up the graver and cut a small scroll, and then began to add leaves in what engravers call the three-cut English scroll style. The first cut is a medium-length line, slightly curving from near the outside scroll line toward the inside scroll line to define the underside or shadowed area of the leaf. The second cut is a small half-circular cap cut to imply movement and the circular nature of the end of the leaf, and then a long curving cut finishes the leaf; hence the name “three-cut”. The process is repeated again and again to create each leaf in its turn. As I concentrated on shaping the leaves Ken monitored my progress and talked about the art of engraving, the breadth and depth of its history and traditions. From time to time his voice would trail off and he would gaze out the windows for several moments before resuming, and I would feel Ken Hunt’s commitment and passion for the art.
I finished the scroll and asked Ken how he inlayed the sprays of gold in
the skies and foreground of the P.V. Nelson sidelock.
He smiled, and there was a twinkle in his eye as he said: “if I just tell
you how I do it, you will learn a little”.
He handed me some photographs of inlay work he had done.
“Look carefully, analyze what you see, and think how you must make the
gold adhere. Do what you think has
to be done, try to find the way yourself.
Create a plate using the technique you develop and bring it back.
Then we shall see what you have come up with.”
Deeply moved, I replied that I would—and bring a plate back to Ken I
shall. Allen and I
left the Hunts’ residence reluctantly, but there were other people and places to
fit into my all too brief visit to
My next call
was upon Nigel Beaumont, the managing director of James Purdey and Sons, who
knew I was much more interested in seeing fine firearms in the process of being
made than the finished firearms on view at the Audley House showrooms, and
accordingly directed me to the Purdey workshops at 3-8 Felgate Mews,
Hammersmith. Seen from the outside
the premises were unassuming, constructed in a U shape with a wall and
gates enclosing a central courtyard.
Inside, however, long benches were occupied by some 20 or so workmen
busily joining, filing, stocking, engraving—all the handwork that goes into the
manufacture of “best” English guns.
Edward Workman chatted with me in the office until Nigel, who was on the shop
floor photographing a recently completed firearm, could join us.
Still in his shop coat, Nigel greeted me warmly, but excused himself
briefly to download photographs from a digital camera into a computer.
He showed me the firearm he had just photographed, and told me it had
been engraved by Steve Kelly. Kelly served his time, or apprenticeship at
Purdey. A few years after he “Came out of his time” he went independent, and is
exclusive to Purdey, doing only a very few jobs for other Makers. He is very
reliable.
“Would you
like to meet our engravers? Nigel said, leading me onto the shop floor, and
introducing me to Paul Chung. Paul
is Purdey’s in-house master engraver who is responsible for overseeing all
engraving done on the premises and the training of the apprentice engravers.
As he escorted me around the premises Paul told me he had been engraving
for 13 years, beginning as an apprentice at Purdey’s when he was 19.
Except for a brief period at
I asked Paul what tools he liked to use. “Mostly we do a thing with square gravers. I also use a flatback to dig out backgrounds with hammer and chisel. If you want to dig out big chunks of metal use a flatback. That is, if you don’t mind the work looking a little rough when you’re doing it. Then I punch the surface flat and stipple it.” I smiled, for Paul had described the same technique I use for backgrounds, and the technique certainly produces excellent results. I asked about the microscope at his bench. “I use the microscope for background work, for when the work gets a little tight. But sometimes the magnification can hamper your work, such as when you are doing game scenes. You can’t see the whole picture, and what you see under the microscope is totally different from what you see with the naked eye. I find a 10-power loupe is sufficient for game scenes.”
Paul introduced me to John Dowell, the newest apprentice, who has been with Purdey’s just over one year. He was practicing scroll on a lockplate, and it was evident from my examination of his work that John had a lot of potential. I then met Greg Goodwillie, who had been with Purdey’s seven and a half years. Grey had apprenticed for five years, one year under Tim Morrison and four years under Paul. Greg draws all his designs freehand, using a scribe to lay out directly on the metal. He showed me a game scene he was engraving: pheasant and large scroll. The design and execution were excellent, and the game scene had the traditional Purdey’s “look”.
Next I chatted with Darren Williams, a finisher, and Mark McCarthy, a stocker who was fitting a trigger plate to the new Purdey hammer gun. Mark explained that a Purdey’s stocker also did a lot of metal work, and showed me the various delicate techniques involved in fitting a stock, beginning with the selection of the blank, generally a wonderful piece of Turkish walnut. A gun becomes a “bespoke” gun when the components come to the stock shop. This is where the action is let in and headed up; the trigger plate is let in, and the breech pins and hand pins are fitted, followed by letting in the lockplates. After this come the measurements between the lockplates and the top and lower straps. Then the angle between the straps and the breech face. Then the bend, length and cast measurements are set, and once you have done all that you come to the marking-off stage where the stock is shaped. Then the metal goes to be polished, then engraving, then the finishing shop. At this stage the firearm is balanced and given its final weight by boring holes in the butt stock to remove excess weight, plugging the holes, and then the chequering process begins. The chequering is all done by hand, of course, with the first line being cut with a single-head tool. After the first line is laid on, a double-head tool is used, repeating the pattern across the field, then a cutting-up tool to point up the pattern and put a flat top on the diamonds. Of course, all the chequering must be done without changing the measurements through the hand.”
Mark showed me a twelve bore side-by-side with a pistol grip rather than a straight-hand stock. “This Purdey, as you can see was engraved by Ken Hunt. The client liked the gun so much he decided to have a pair.” I recognized the shotgun at once: the day before Ken had given me photographs of it in order to study his technique of inlaying gold.
I saw my old
friend, Keith Thomas, across the workshop and walked over to chat with him.
Keith was with Phil Butcher, who was working on Purdey’s new .410 action.
Keith introduced me to Phil as someone who worked quite a bit with David
Trevallion. David’s work in the
I wished that
I could have stayed longer at the Purdey works, but I would be leaving the
“When I was
building this gun twenty or so years ago someone suggested that since we shared
the same surname I should have Admiral Nelson’s portrait on the gun.
I wanted Alan Brown to engrave the gun, but when I rang Alan he had too
many commissions outstanding, but Alan said he knew an up-and-coming engraver
from
Peter removed
a shotgun from a beautiful black alligator-hide case.
“This is a 20-bore over-and-under with a side lever opener on the Boss
style, and Phil Cogan did the engraving.
This shotgun
won the Geoffrey Boothroyd Award at the Vintagers’ show in
I noticed a
pair of “P.V. Nelson” actions awaiting color case-hardening and final assembly.
The rose and scroll engraving had been executed by Keith Thomas,( no
relation to the previous Keith Thomas) who also did the P.V. Nelson names on the
sideplates. Peter Nelson’s many
years in the fine gunmaking trade, first at Purdey’s, then at Hartmann and Weiss
in
As Peter showed me further around his workshop I was struck by the juxtaposition of an ancient forge used for heating and tempering parts and modern spark eroder used for shaping lock parts a few feet away. Peter removed a small metal rod with a gracefully curved tear-drop shape on the end from the spark eroder. “I use this machine to pierce the bridle; it is much quicker and more accurate than filing it by hand.”
A glance at my
wristwatch told me if I spent any more time with Peter Nelson I would likely
miss my flight from Gatwick, so I bade yet another reluctant good-bye and got
into my rental car. As the plane
flew westward to the