Archive for the guns category.
Did you know that, without Eli Whitney, extraordinary mechanical engineer and inventor of the cotton gin, there would be no Colt “Walker” revolvers. In fact, there’d probably be no Colt firearms at all.
From a young age, Whitney showed an amazing aptitude for all things mechanical. That’s how he paid for his Yale education--by fixing machines. After graduation, he planned to teach in order to pay for law school. Instead, he ended up working for the widow of Revolutionary War general Nathanael Green, fixing things on her Georgia plantation and creating a mechanized way to remove the seeds from cotton--the cotton gin for which he is so famous.
Because of widespread pirating of his design and the costly court battles to protect his patent, Whitney never profited from his invention. Discouraged, Whitney turned his amazing mind to the manufacture of firearms, specifically muskets. Up until Whitney, muskets were hand-crafted, made one at a time, each weapon totally unique. That meant if something broke in a gun, the replacement parts had to be handmade to fit that gun. Whitney invented the method by which gun parts were so precisely made that they were interchangeable–and could be mass-produced.
In a demonstration to prove the interchangeability of the gun parts he manufactured, Whitney is said to have put the parts needed to build ten muskets into a pile. When government officials were successful, Whitney, and arms manufacturing, would never be the same. Whitney is credited with pioneering t
he assembly production line.
In 1841, Whitney Arms Company was placed under the control of Eli Whitney, Jr. Arms making was a competitive business in the United States in the 1840s and success required both technological efficiency and strong entrepreneurial instincts. With the rapid westward movement of the population in the 1830s, the market for firearms grew, a demand which couldn’t be supplied by gun-smiths—craftsmen--who operated on a small scale. In addition, the rise of the urban middle classes in the great eastern cities meant a market was developing for sporting arms, guns used for target-shooting and hunting.
In the 1830s, Samuel Colt had tried his hand at manufacturing, producing around 3000 of his new revolver-style handgun before creditors shut down the Patent Arms Company. Though he lost his factory, Colt still controlled his patents and, in 1846, succeeded in selling a contract for 1,000 revolvers to Captain Samuel H. Walker of the Texas Rangers. Having only six months to deliver on the contract and no factory in which to build them, Colt turned to Eli Whitney, Jr. On July 7, 1843, Colt and Whitney concluded a contract for the production of the Whitneyville Colt—a weapon that would revolutionize the handgun and become famous as the Colt “Walker.”
When I heard the name "Griswold" while watching Hell on Wheels, I was instantly intrigued. It’s a familiar word in our household due to Chevy Chase, aka the hapless Clark Griswold
Years ago, when I saw the pull-down attic stairs that ensnare him in Christmas Vacation, I yammered so much and so often about a similar set-up here at home that I finally wore Hubby down, and he put one in for me.
To make a long story short, our attic stairs AND the whole attic space now crammed with my stuff are now simply called “The Griswold” by all our family and friends.
But in real life, the Griswold is a rare, valuable Civil War-era .36 caliber percussion revolver. Make that, War of Northern Aggression-era .36 caliber percussion revolver.
Here’s how it happened.
In 1835, Connecticut-born Samuel Griswold purchased land near Macon, Georgia and established a small township he named Griswoldville. Along with soap and candle manufacturing and employee housing, post office and church, he built a cotton gin factory.
New Orleans gun maker Arvin Gunnison relocated to Griswoldville after the Yankees took his home town. At the request of the Confederate Ordnance Department, he and Samuel Griswold teamed up to supply as many guns as possible to the army. Instead of cotton gins, Griswold’s factory began its stint as the manufacturer of guns remarkably similar to the Colt Navy 1851. At first blush, the Griswold was easily mistaken for the Colt. But the Colt was assembled with far superior materials and technology that were not available in the blockaded and far less industrialized South. (It is said that only 20,000 factories of any kind were located in the South compared to 120,000 in the north.)
The grips of the Griswold-Gunnison gun (love the alliteration!) were one piece of walnut. While the Colt’s frame and trigger guard was forged from case-hardened steel, the Griswold’s was solid brass, and not for beauty’s sake. The South simply didn’t have enough graded steel to use. Furthermore, the cylinders on most Griswold-Gunnison revolvers were cast from iron left in a bare metal state without any chemical treatment to prevent rust. So they rusted.
In fact, many Griswolds had brass with a pinkish tinge. Copper had to be added to brass to make it go farther. When brass was not available, the Griswold, or “G & G” was made from iron or iron alloys.
Although not as top-notch as the Colt, the G and G’s were a decent-quality weapon, particularly when one realizes the shortage of materials and machinery to reproduce them. In their three-year history, about 3,600 of the revolvers were made. It is believed that the approximately two dozen black workers at the Griswoldville factory were not treated as slaves but received the same wage and treatment as other workers.
The Griswold was priced to sell for $40 in an era when $35-40 was a good monthly salary. In comparison, the Colt sold for about $14.
The G and G enterprise ended on November 22, 1864, under the smokin’ guns of General Tecumseh Sherman on his “March to the Sea.” The week prior, his troops had captured Atlanta and begun their slash-and-burn across the state of Georgia. In Griswoldville, the men of the Third Cavalry Division under Brigadier-General Judson Kilpatrick burned the gun factory and all other factories to the ground.
The rarity of the Griswold has the few remaining guns priced at auction well into the seven figures! (Now, if only I could find something of value in my own Griswold….)
For more Griswold info:
http://www.vincelewis.net/griswold.html
http://www.gunclassics.com/griswold.html
Click on my latest book cover to purchase:
While on vacation recently, my husband and I spent a morning visiting the Arizona Cowboy Shooters Association in action. Every second Saturday, enthusiasts of period weapons, dedicated to preserving and promoting the sport of Cowboy Action Shooting gather together to talk history, weapons and shooting.
The Single Action Shooting Society--SASS--is for folks who “…share a common interest in preserving the history of the Old West and competitive shooting.” [SASS website,
www.sassnet.com.] There are clubs all in all fifty states, andCanada,New Zealand, Europe,Australia andSouth Africa, too.
Personally, spending a Saturday or two a month enjoying the sport of shooting sounds like a lot of fun. And every club member we met agreed. The day consists of target shooting with revolvers, a shotgun, and a lever-action rifle.
“Cowboy Action Shooting is a multi-faceted shooting sport in which contestants compete with firearms typical of those used in the taming of the Old West: single acti
on revolvers, pistol caliber lever action rifles, and old time shotguns.” [www.sassnet.com]
Every member of the ACSA carried reproduction or original period firearms. There were Colt Peacemakers,Winchester1873s, Model No. 3 “Russians” (pictured to the left), Model 1873 repeating rifles, 1866 “Yellow Boys”… You name it, someone was probably carrying it.
We saw 1897 pump-action and 1887 lever-action shotguns--that one “Terminator” fans would recognize--and lots of double-barreled or side-by-side Coach guns.
There were stations set up on the range, with different targets, arrangements and distances. At one station, participants emptied both revolvers at steel gunslinger- shaped targets, or “steels,” then switched to their rifles and pinged off nine shots at five dinner-plate sized targets from 10 yards away. At the next station, the targets were 25 yards away. And at another, knocking down one “steel” tossed a clay target into the air. Bonus points were awarded for shattering it. There’s also a long-range rifle competition, but we didn’t get up early enoug
h to observe that.
Another fun aspect of the sport is that every participant got to be someone else for a day. “One of the unique aspects of SASS approved Cowboy Action Shooting™ is the requirement placed on costuming. Each participant is required to adopt a shooting alias appropriate to a character or profession of the late 19th century, a Hollywoodwestern star, or an appropriate character from fiction. Their costume is then developed accordingly. Many event participants gain more enjoyment from the costuming aspect of our sport than from the shooting competition,
itself. Regardless of a SASS member's individual area of interest, SASS events provide regular opportunities for fellowship and fun with like-minded folks and families.” [
www.sassnet.com]
For sheer fun while shooting, you’d be hard pressed to beat Cowboy Action Shooting. Unless it was mounted cowboy action shooting--but that’s for another post.
From a distance, you might think one cowboy looks pretty much like another, but on closer inspection, you'll find that though their gear contains the same staples, a cowboy finds a way to make his equipment truly his own. From the type of horse he rides, to the tool work on his saddle, to the way he shapes the brim of his hat--a western man can tell you a lot about himself without ever opening his mouth.
One prime example of this is how the man wears his gun. In the 19th century, it was unheard of for a man to ride the range without a weapon within easy reach. Dangers abounded. Wild animals. Snakes. Not to mention the trouble that originated on two legs from rustlers or Indian raiding parties. Some carried rifles in a scabbard attached to the saddle, but after the advent of the Colt Single Action Army revolver or Peacemaker in 1873, most cowboys carried a sidearm either instead of a rifle or in addition to it. It was always at hand, even if one's horse was not.
But how a man chose to wear his Colt, well . . . that was a matter of style and expediency. The leather holster could be plain or decorated, usually natural or brown-colored leather, though sometimes black. Some men stamped their initials or their ranch's brand into the leather. Holsters in the 1870s were open at the top and had a belt loop on the backside which slid over the cartridge belt. By the 1880s, holsters tended to be made from a single piece of leather with a back that looped over the belt and provided slots to secure the front. The holster at the top of this post shows this later style with a double loop holster.
Gun belts usually ranged from 3-4 inches wide, and the number of catridge loops on them depended on the caliber of the revolver as well as the length of the belt. Most carried between 40-50 loops. Since ammunition came in boxes of 50, one box could generally fill the belt and the revolver, leaving one chamber empty for safety purposes.
Look at the two men pictured below. Both wear their guns on the right hip. However one man is left-handed. Notice the butt of the pistols. The man in black is wearing his in the usual fashion, with the handle pointing backward. In contrast, note how the man in white shirt sleeves has his handle pointing forward. This is called the "cross draw" position. While most preferred drawing their weapon from the same hip as the dominant hand, some found it easier to reach across their body to draw their weapon, hence the outward facing handle. In fact, if you look carefully at the picture above with the four cowboys together, you'll notice the third man from the left wears his pistol in the cross draw position.
Despite what we see in the movies, a working cowboy rarely if ever wore more than one gun. If he did wear two, usually the second was simply to have on hand to save the time of reloading as a man would not be nearly as proficient a shooter with his non-dominant hand. And those holsters that tied down to a man's thigh? Well, those were usually reserved for professional gunmen whether on the right or wrong side of the law. The tie served to anchor the holster so that no slip of the leather would impede a fast draw.
So do any of you have antique holsters or gun belts in your family treasure chest? The wearing of sidearms waned after the end of the 19th century. As populations grew, towns passed ordinances against carrying weapons. But some die hard cowboys never gave up on packing their Colt when riding the range.
Good Morning!
Going along with a similar message from my last post, I thought we might continue on in the same vein as we did a couple of weeks ago -- survival. With droughts in the south and midwest, flooding in our farmlands and northern states and with grain elevators gradually reduced to only about 3 months of food supply, it takes only a little foresight to see that we may be in for a long haul in the near future. To that end, I thought we might revisit some survival tactics. I'll be giving away, by the way, a book on survival tactics (well sort of survival tactics) -- LONG ARROW'S PRIDE to some lucky blogger. So be sure to come in and leave a message. (Note, this offer applies to the greater 50 States and to Canada only.)
In the old days, the Indians lived off the land and rarely starved. It wasn’t until reservation days that starvation became a real threat. Before that time, the Indians knew what plants to look for and where to look, what animals to kill, how to kill them for food, how to jerky the meat and how to survive and live off the land. In truth, before the last World War, most Americas were living on farms and so the Depression (I never call it the Great Depression, as I think of Great things as good things) — but the collaspe of the economy during the Depression – bad as it was, wasn’t as bad as it might be in our future because most people still lived on farms back then and knew how to grow their own food. So, as I used to learn in the Girl Scouts, let me ask you this. How prepared are you for a collapse if it were to come upon us?
Heaven forbid it ever happen. But as my mother used to say, “You prepare for the worst and enjoy those things you stored when it doesn’t happen.” So let’s go over a few things that might come in handy to have, just in case, okay?
1) Food — do you have a minimum of a 1 year supply for all members of your family on hand. These are storeable items like grains, dried fruits, canned organic veggies, nuts, baking soda, fish-liver oil, baking powder, and anything else that you can thing of to store — meat, etc. Get them for long storage — again that’s minimum 1 year supply for every member of your family and any member of your family that in a catastrophe might come home. : )
2) Medical supplies. You can’t have enough medical supplies. Bandages, bandaids, aspirin, alcohol, hydrogen peroxide, and any other medicine that you need. For me, because I don’t take drugs, this means a year’s supply minimum of vitamins and minerals, as well as any herbs needed for medical emergencies. And remember this is a 1 year supply for every member of your family — and those who might join you later on.
3) Seeds — organic seeds, if you please. The reason for heirloom, organic seeds is that the new Monsanto seeds and even the more common hybrid seeds don’t produce seeds for replanting — and keeping seeds from year to year is vital. Even is you live in the city, you can start a garden of some kind. My husband and I live in the city and instead of growing a lawn, we are now growing a garden. We are learning also that one needs to LEARN how to garden and how to keep out pests. So far squirrels and rabbits are benefitting from our new garden. : )
4)
An herb garden is pretty essential. From an herb garden you can obtain many medicinal plants — like Echinacea and Goldenseal, as well as Oregano, sage and other herbs. And again, even if you live on the city, you can probably start a garden on the roof or on a window seal. You might even be able to make friends with local farmers who might be able to help you through a tough time, but I would advise you to plant as much as you can for yourself and for your family.
5) Protection.
Now, while it might be fun to have these two men riding protection for you, probably it is a good idea to have a rifle or a gun of some kind as a form of self and family protection as well as protection of your food stores. Personally, I think our Founding Fathers were right in guaranteeing the natural God-given right to bear arms. Every creature will try to defend itself against any who seek to kill it. For people, this means guns and other means to protect yourself. After all, criminals and vandals are criminals and vandals because they can't obey the law -- therefore, they will always find a way to get guns. My huband and I belong to Frontsight, a shooting organization that teaches you not only self-protection and makes sure that you know how to place a good shot, but teaches you when to make that shot and when not to. But not only is protection important in emergencies — to protect the lives of your family and yourself — guns are important in keeping pests like rabbits and squirrels away from your garden — guns can also bring in fresh game in case of a food shortage. If you don’t like guns and will absolutely not have one in your household, then I would advise you to learn self-defense — hand-to-hand — and to learn to use a bow and arrow for hunting.
Okay, let’s see. What have I left out? There’s something that’s important that I’m not thinking of here.
Oh, yes, a subject that is dear to the pocketbook:
6) Some sort of cash. Now what do I mean by cash? Some say silver or gold with lead to protect that silver or gold. : ) Some say to invest in the Euro — just in case the dollar falls. I will say right here and right now that this is not an area that I know much about. And if there is some kind of castastrophe — heaven forbid — or martial law — double heaven forbid — what might people use as money? Barter? Gold? Silver? Your guess is as good as mine. All I know is that you might want to have something on hand to barter with.
Well, now that’s all I can think of right now. You might be able to think of other things that one might to do be prepared. In the old days — the days of my grandparents, all families had either a full year’s supply of food on hand and/or a victory garden. When I was growing up, almost all of my neighbors had gardens of one kind or another — chicken coops, etc.
How about you? Can you think of something I’ve forgotten here in order to be prepared for any sort of economical or other kind of emergency? Do you remember the victory gardens? Families with supplies of food on hand, just in case? Or were you a Girl Scout and taught to always be prepared?
I’m not wishing for this — I hope a cause for this never happens — but just in case…
And don’t forget, I'll be giving away a free copy of LONE ARROW'S PRIDE to some lucky blogger. This applies, by the way to the great 50 States and Canada only.
So come on in and let’s talk about survival.
Published at July 22nd, 2011 in category
guns 
A Gunfighter's Rules to Live By
-
Bring a gun. Two is even better
-
Stand with the sun at your back
-
Shoot first and don’t miss
-
There's no such thing as fair play
-
In a gunfight take your time in a hurry
-
If you're not shooting you better be loading
Okay, I admit it; where guns are concerned I’m a chicken. So when my son announced he signed me up for a shooting class I didn’t exactly jump with joy. “Come on, Ma,” he beseeched when I balked. “I told them you write westerns and they agreed to bring their Old West collection.”
Well, shoot!
The first challenge was finding the place. It’s hidden somewhere in a canyon in the San Fernando Valley at the end of a very long dirt road. Upon my arrival I was introduced to Bodie aka Willy Clark. Dressed in authentic cowboy gear he looked like a character right out of a Louis L’Amour book. He didn’t just know weapons he knew the west. Bodie likes to put history in context. “Hollywood did us no favor,” he explained. “While cowboys were shooting up Tombstone, Bell was talking on the telephone.”
Bodie and I discussed a tricky scene I’m working on and he gave me some terrific ideas. The other workshop attendees—all men by the way—got in the act. I wonder what they’d say if they knew they were helping plot a romance novel?
Bodie ran down the safety rules and taught us how to load a weapon with black gunpowder cartridges. What you need to know about gunpowder is that is smells like sulphur and makes a lot of smoke.
Contrary to popular belief poor shooting was the norm in the Old West and it’s easy to see that gunpowder smoke was partly to blame. A gun battle between cowboys and Indians would have created quite a smokescreen. Some lawmen fared no better in shooting skills than did your average cowpoke. A self-generated reputation--the deadlier the better-- saved many a lawman from dying in the street. No one was better at exaggerating than Bill Hickok, who described an ambush of three farmers as a shoot-out with nine desperados.
Few gunslingers carried a notched weapon, probably because they didn't want to embarrass themselves. Of course, this didn't keep Bat Masterson from running a successful business selling "genuine" notched guns during his retirement.
The Real Gun that Won the West
Hint, hint, it was not the Peacemaker. Cody insists it was the 12-gauge double-barrel shotgun (also called a scattergun). The double barrel means it has two triggers. The shotgun was the most prevalent weapon in the U.S. and every rancher, farmer, wagon train emigrant and cavalryman had one. The shotgun was easy to use and the perfect weapon for everything from shooting game to fighting off Indians.
The scattering effect of buckshot had its good and bad side. Buckshot spreads eight inches for every twenty-five feet. In layman’s terms that means that unless you are close to your target you’ll probably miss. But it was precisely this spreading effect that made it the weapon of choice for lawmen wishing to control unruly crowds.
A Kick like a Mule
The first time I pulled a shotgun trigger I near fell over backward. That kick would make any mule proud. The hands you see behind me belong to my son, ready to catch me on my second round. I learned the hard way to hold the butt against my shoulder—hard!
After “mastering” the shotgun I moved on to the Colt Peacemaker. The Colt was popular with lawmen and outlaws alike. Loading a Colt was more involved than loading a shotgun. To keep a round from discharging a loaded chamber by accident you load only "five beans in the wheel" by loading one, missing one and loading the rest. If you’re heading for a gunfight be sure to load all six beans. If by chance you’re chased by outlaws while on your horse, hold your gun and reins in your left hand and load with your right.
The thing you need to know about the peacemaker is that the barrel tends to move upward after you fire. That's why Bat Masterson said to aim for the belt buckle and hit 'em in the chest. Bat was credited with shooting thirty-one men though in reality he shot only one. This proves that shooting at belt buckles isn't as easy as you might think.
I came away from my lesson without any notches on my belt, but taking a cue from my fisherman husband I can now talk about the target that got away.
How about you? Any notches on your belt? The best story--true or false--wins a book!
A Vision of Lucy (A Rocky Creek Romance)
Who doesn’t love it when a town or a family is revisited in a sequel? It’s like seeing old friends again or coming home for a stay. It’s always fun to set up a character in a previous book, and then give them their own story. Readers who enjoyed
The Preacher’s Wife and asked about a sequel will be happy to know Elisabeth Hart’s story has finally been told in
Marrying the Preacher’s Daughter.
Elisabeth’s family moved west to Colorado from back east, and along the way her mother was drowned. Elisabeth had issues getting used to the idea that her father snapped himself up a new wife in Nebraska before they ever reached their destination. But before the end of that story, Josie and Elisabeth came to an understanding , and are close friends when this book begins.
Elisabeth wants a man just like her father. Someone wise and upstanding, a man who lives by God’s Word and is an example to the community. She has high ideals and lofty expectations.
Enter Gabe Taggart, bounty hunter. Now Elisabeth doesn’t know he’s a bounty hunter when she meets him. He’s keeping that under his cowboy hat. But she does know he’s dangerous, because he’s lying shot in their family home after a gunfight—a gunfight she instigated—but she won’t admit to that. Her father is perturbed with her and insists it’s her job to take care of the man, since she got him shot up in the first place, so like the obedient daughter she is, she’s waiting on the irritating man hand and foot. Her charity and good will are soon spread pretty thin however.
Gabe only cares about keeping his secret and creating a home for the sister he placed in a boarding school. She has graduated and wants to come set up house with her big brother. Irene arrives sooner than expected, and she sure isn’t the quiet, studious little girl he remembers. She’s a full-blown suffragette, with contacts in important circles. Between his outrageous sister and his feisty caregiver, his future is not living up to his peaceful expectations. Worse yet—the two become fast friends. What’s a man to do?
This story is filled with gunfire, kisses, and a few good laughs. But it’s also a poignant look into healing for the grieving process and an example of how God responds to faith. I hope you will find a copy and let me know what you think.
I’m giving away autographed copies to TWO PEOPLE who click through to my trailer on YouTube, LIKE it and
leave a comment here to tell me they did so. The traffic should generate interest for the book.
CLICK HERE FOR TRAILER ON YOUTUBE
Thank you for visiting today!
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
READ CHAPTER ONE
Marrying the Preacher's Daughter
by Cheryl St.John
Colorado June, 1876
"Toss your guns down now!" a male voice shouted. "Hands in the air."
Elisabeth Hart couldn't see past the layers of netting on a woman's hat in front of her, but sounds of alarm rippled through the passengers who sat in the forward rows. The interior of the railcar was sweltering beneath the midday sun, and she blotted her eyes and forehead with her lace-trimmed handkerchief. What should have been a routine stop along the tracks to take on water had become life-threatening.
Thuds sounded as firearms hit the aisle. A man in a battered hat and wearing a faded bandanna over the lower half of his face came into view. Eyes darting from person to person, he snatched up the guns.
Another masked bandit appeared in the wake of the first. Sweat drenched the front of his dusty shirt. "Turn over all your cash and jewelry. Ladies' bags, too, and none of you gets shot."
Two more thieves held open gunnysacks and gathered the looted items.
Fear prickled at Elisabeth, but a maelstrom of rebellious anger made her tremble. How dreadful of these men to point guns and make demands. Every fiber of her being objected to their lack of concern for the safety of the passengers and the downright thievery.
She turned to the tall, quiet man who'd been sitting beside her on the aisle side of the bench seat since they'd left Morning Creek, noting the way his hat brim shaded piercing green eyes. He watched the gunman with intense concentration, but made no move to stop what was happening. "Aren't you going to do something?" she whispered.
The man cast her a glare that would have scorched a lesser woman. One eyebrow rose and he gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head.
"They're going to rob us," she insisted. "You still have your gun. I saw it inside your jacket when you leaned to lower the window earlier."
He focused on the man wielding the revolver, but spoke to her. "Can you count, lady? Just give 'em what they want so nobody gets hurt."
"But—"
Pausing beside them, the masked robber pointed his gun directly at her seat partner's chest. The man gave Elisabeth a pointed glare and calmly raised his hands in the air before looking up.
"Right in here," the robber said.
The seated man handed him a coin purse and tossed several silver dollars and his pocket watch into the bag.
The barrel of the gun swung to Elisabeth. "Lady?"
Elisabeth's temper and sensibilities flared, but fear kept her silent. Her heart beat so frantically, she thought her chest might burst. She wanted to refuse, but didn't want anyone to get hurt. Begrudgingly, she forfeited her black velvet chatelaine pocket with the silver handle and removed the gold bracelet she'd received for her last birthday, dropping both into the burlap sack.
The robber pointed at her neck. "You got a chain under there."
She clapped her hand protectively over the plain gold ring that rested on a chain beneath her damp and wrinkled cotton shirtwaist. "This was my mother's!"
"Just give it to him," the green-eyed stranger cajoled in his maddeningly calm manner.
"Now just wait," Elisabeth argued with a glare. "You don't understand. This was my mother's wedding ring."
The stranger gave her a quelling look that singed her eyelashes. Passengers called out their displeasure and shouted for her to give up her jewelry same as they had.
The ring was all she had of her mother. Since she'd drowned, Elisabeth had worn it every day…and tried to fill the woman's shoes. The wedding band symbolized Elisabeth's childhood and her sacrifices. Parting with it would break her heart…but she didn't want to be the cause of anyone getting shot. What would her father have to say in this situation?
She closed her eyes. Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. Her true treasures were in heaven. The ring wasn't as important as the lives at stake.
The robber leaned down close as if he meant to take the ring from her neck. She raised her hand to her throat to prevent him from touching her. She could do this on her own. He grabbed Elisabeth's collar and yanked so hard that she jerked forward and the top button popped off.
In that same second, a grim click sounded. The bandit paused dead still.
Elisabeth stared into his shining dark eyes, and the moment stretched into infinity. She could hear her blood pulsing through her veins, her breath panting from between her dry lips. Was this the day she was going to die and meet her Maker?
"Take your hands off the lady, or you're dead." From beside her, the stranger's low-timbered voice was calm, but laced with lethal intent. The hair on Elisabeth's neck stood up.
No one else was privy to the robber's predicament. The green-eyed man's gun was still concealed between the two men, the business end jammed up against the robber's belly. Elisabeth dared a glance and saw the stranger's other hand clamped over the man's wrist, keeping that revolver pointed toward the floor and protectively away from her.
What could only have been seconds, but seemed like an hour, passed with their ragged breaths loud and the tick of a pocket watch encroaching on her consciousness.
"We ain't got all day, Hank!" one of the other thieves shouted.
The robber leaning over her attempted to move, and pandemonium broke loose. A shot rang out and Elisabeth's rescuer grunted in pain. The robber tugged at Elisabeth's collar, and the man beside her fired his gun.
The stench of gunpowder stung her nose. Men shouted. Women screamed. Elisabeth watched the events unfold in a haze of fear and disbelief.
The man who'd threatened Elisabeth crumpled, slumping sideways over the back of a seat. A horrifying crimson blotch spread across his shirtfront. She covered her mouth with her hand to keep from crying out.
The stranger leaped from his seat with his arm outstretched. "Get down!" he bellowed. A rapid succession of shots nearly deafened her. She cupped her hands over her ears, belatedly realizing he'd been ordering her to get down. Praying for safety for the other passengers, she folded herself onto the floor and knelt with her heart pounding. The shock of seeing that man shot and bleeding stole her breath.
Minutes passed with her thoughts in chaos. Would she see her family again? If the stranger protecting her had been shot, maybe other people were being killed or injured, and all because she'd delayed. She'd been going to give him the ring.
An eerie silence followed in the wake of the previous pandemonium, and it took a few minutes to comprehend what that could mean.
The sound of hesitant footsteps and voices told her the battle was over. She opened eyes she hadn't realized were squeezed shut, unfolded her body and peered over the seat in front of her.
One of the male passengers had picked up the gunny-sacks and now doled possessions back to their owners. In numb silence, she accepted her monogrammed velvet pocket and gold bracelet from his outstretched hand while her mind struggled to comprehend what was going on around her. A conductor and several other railroad men stepped over prone bodies on the floor. The sight made her stomach lurch. Elisabeth could only stare in numb disbelief.
One of the uniformed men made his way to the stranger who was seated on a bench with his back against the side of the railcar, his hand pressed to his ribs. "Find something for bandages!"
Spurred out of her frozen state of shock, Elisabeth straightened and stepped into the aisle. She raised her hem and, holding it in her teeth, tore a wide strip from her petticoat. "Here."
Others provided handkerchiefs and scarves, and the conductor handed over the wad of material for the fellow to press against the wound. "Sit tight," he said. "We'll get you to the doctor in Jackson Springs quick as we can."
Several men dragged the robbers' bodies to the back of the car, the dead men's boot heels painting shiny streaks of blood on the wooden floor. Her stomach roiled and she thought she might be sick.
"Are you all right?"
She swung her gaze to those green eyes, now dark with pain. "Y-yes, I'm fine."
Had he killed all of those men? He made a halfhearted attempt to sit a little straighter, but grimaced and stayed where he was.
He'd probably saved her life. Without a doubt he'd saved her from losing her precious ring. She perched on the edge of the seat beside his leg, and reached to replace his hand with hers, pressing the cloth against his cream-colored shirt, where it was soaked with blood that flowed from his side. "I'm Elisabeth Hart."
"Gabe Taggart," he replied.
"That was a very brave thing you did."
His expression slid into a scowl. "Didn't have much choice after the stupid thing you did."
Taken aback, she was at a loss for words. Before that horrible man had reached for her, she'd been prepared to hand over the ring. Now she felt foolish for ever hesitating.
Steam hissed and the train jerked into motion, picking up speed along the tracks. The stranger winced at the jerking movement. The woman who'd been sitting behind them made her way along the aisle in the rocking car. "Thank you for rescuing us," she said to Gabe.
Casting a disapproving scowl at Elisabeth, she returned to her seat. Elisabeth glanced at a few of the other occupants of the railcar and noted an assortment of scathing looks directed toward her. None of them understood the value she placed on the ring or the reason for her delay. She hadn't meant to endanger anyone.
Silently, she prayed for his life, asking God to forgive her for putting him at risk because of her selfish attachment to an earthly treasure. Out of habit, she reached into the jacket pocket of her traveling suit and rubbed a smooth flat stone between her fingers. The keepsake was one of several she'd picked up during her family's perilous journey to Colorado. The stones reminded her of the sacrifice and dedication that had brought them to a new state and a new life.
The train rocked and turned a bend. Several other passengers expressed their thanks to Gabe as the train neared its destination. When at last they reached Jackson Springs, the tale spread to the baggage men and the families waiting on the platform. Several men carefully loaded Gabe Taggart into the bed of a wagon and drove him away.
Grateful this particular chapter of her life was over and that Taggart would be getting medical attention now, Elisabeth released a pent-up breath and joined the others disembarking.
"Thank the Lord, you're safe."
Elisabeth turned with relief and embraced her stepmother, their bodies separated by the girth of Josie's growing belly beneath her pretty green day dress.
"What happened to that man?" her six-year-old half brother Phillip asked. He had shiny black hair like their father's and a sprinkling of freckles across his nose and cheeks.
"He prevented robbers from stealing our things," Elisabeth answered, trying to keep panic and guilt from her voice.
"Lis-bet, Lis-bet!" Peter and John, the three-year-old twins, jumped up and down waiting for her to greet them.
She picked up Peter first, kissing his cheek and ruffling his curly reddish hair. After setting him down, she reached for John. He kissed her cheek, leaving a suspiciously peppermint stickiness on her skin.
Josie turned and motioned forward a slender dark-haired young woman that Elisabeth had assumed was waiting for another passenger. "This is Kalli Tyler. She's my new helper. Your father thought I needed someone full-time, and I didn't argue. She's a godsend, truly. You two are going to get along well."
"I've heard all about you," Kalli said with a friendly dimpled smile. "Are you sure you're all right?"
"Yes, I'm fine." She kept her voice steady, but her in-sides quivered in the aftermath of that drama. She collected herself to study the other young woman.
As her father's assistant, the notary public and a tutor, Elisabeth did have her hands full. It was wise of Father and Josie to hire additional help. At seventeen and sixteen, her sisters, Abigail and Anna, were busy with school, studies and social activities, and their bustling household did need extra assistance to keep things running smoothly.
"I brought a wagon and Gilbert," Josie told her. "You had bags, and I'm not up to the walk."
"Of course," Elisabeth answered. "Phillip, help me find my bags, please."
She turned toward the pile where luggage was being stacked just as two men carried one of the robbers from the train on a stretcher. He'd been shot in the chest and his vest was drenched with dark glistening blood. The man was quite plainly dead.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
If you're blog hopping today, I'm at Seekerville http://seekerville.blogspot.com/ and
I'm the Spotlight Author at Love Western Romances this month! http://www.lovewesternromances.com/
Winchester (U.S.) Model 1866 Lever Action Rifle (repeater/ breech-loading/ black powder/ cartridge ammunition)
Last time we discussed the Winchester 1873 Repeating Rifle. Today, I want to introduce the precursor to that rifle - the Winchester 1866 Repeating Rifle, aka The Yellow Boy.
The Yellow Boy got its name because of the shiny brass frame. The design improvements over the original Henry repeating rifle ensured
the Yellow Boy’s success. In 1866, Nelson King, an engineer with Winchester Repeating Arms, patented a spring load gate for ease of loading cartridges into the side of a spring-fed, closed-end tube attached under the barrel. The tube held fifteen bullets. Add the one in the chamber and you could pull the trigger sixteen times before reloading.
The 1866 Yellowboy lever-action rifle was a marked improvement over the Henry rifle. It was the first true cowboy lever-action rifle, and the first rifle widely carried in a cowboy-style saddle scabbard.
Both the “Henry and Winchester Model 1866 "Yellow Boy" rifles found a ready market on the western frontier. The Indians referred to these arms as "many shots," and "spirit gun," which showed a measure of awe and respect for the products of the New Haven-based company. Many warriors were able to obtain these arms for themselves, and more than twenty of them were used against George A. Custer's 7th Cavalry and their single-shot Springfield carbines at the Little Bighorn in June, 1876. Winchester repeaters also found favor with miners, homesteaders, ranchers, lawmen, and highwaymen.”
http://www.nramuseum.com/the-museum/the-galleries/the-american-west/case-42-the-guns-that-won-the-west-colt-winchester/winchester-model-1866-lever-act
ion-rifle.aspx
Winchester produced the Yellow Boy as a musket, a carbine (shorter barrel, often around 19”) and a rifle with a barrel up to 24 ¼”.
Some 150,000 Yellow Boys were produced from 1867 to 1892-93. The carbine version of the 1866 Yellowboy was a hit worldwide. Chief Sitting Bull had one; the forces of Benito Juarez used the rifles in Mexico; the Turkish Army used the new Winchester Yellowboy against the Russians; and settlers in the U.S. bought thousa
nds for frontier use. Based on its popularity and performance, the “Yellow Boy” e
arned the title of "the gun that won the west."
The Yellow Boy’s popularity with Native Americans as well as the general shooting public continued its production well after the introduction of the more powerful Model 1873 Winchester began.
The Yellow Boy is still popular in Hollywood. The Yellow Boy appeared in many of the Spaghetti Westerns, and, more recently, TomChaney (Josh Brolin) carried one in the new release of
True Grit.
Winchester chambered it for the .44 Henry Flat round, or a flat nosed bullet. Though it didn’t have a lot of power for a rifle, the Henry Flat had already been proven in combat. The Flat was a rimfire cartridge, which means the hammer strikes the rim of the cartridge, not the center. It wasn’t until near the end of production--when the 1876 Centennial Rifle was being produced--that Winchester developed a .44 center-fire cartridge for the 1866 rifle.
Here’s a tidbit that might come in useful in your plot - No dust covers were used on the 1866. This did permit dust and other debris to enter the action, which meant misfiring or not firing at all--which can put the shooter in a real tight spot.
Next time -- the gun that started it all: The Henry Repeating Rifle.
Several different weapons, both rifles and handguns, have been dubbed “the gun that won the west.” Like the Colt 1873 Peacemaker, a .45 caliber six-shot revolver; the Winchester Model 1866 “Yellowboy” lever-action repeating rifle, so named for its shiny brass frame; or today’s focus, the Winchester Model 1873 lever-action repeating rifle.
Some believe the Winchester Model 1873 is widely known as 'the gun that won the west' purely because there were so many made. With a production run of more than 720,000 in 50+ years, anyone who wanted one could buy one. And that meant a lot of these rifles went west with those brave enough to pack up and head off into parts unknown.
The steel-framed Model 1873 was made as a musket = a 30” round barrel (smooth bore, not rifled). According to Winchester, there were only around 500 of these produced.
…as a carbine = a 20” barrel, loaded with 14 cartridges; often had a saddle ring attached for easy accessibility and to keep it on the horse.
…and as a rifle = 24” octagonal barrel, with the insides “rifled” or grooved in a way that spun the bullet as it exited the barrel, giving it greater distance and much improved accuracy; loaded with self-contained black powder cartridges that were pushed into the receiver on the right side of the rifle and stored in a magazine that paralleled the barrel.
THANKS TO
WWW.RAREWINCHESTERS.COM FOR THE PICS!
Though the 1873 couldn’t handle the more powerful cartridges used by the single-shot rifles of the time, I’m thinking 14 shots before reloading versus one made it worth the trade-off.
Originally chambered for the .44-40 cartridge (a .44 caliber bullet, propelled by 40 grains of black powder), the Model 1873 was later produced in .38-40 and .32-20, all of which were popular handgun cartridges of the day. This was important--if your handgun and your rifle used different size ammunition, you had to carry two sizes and you ran the risk of not having enough of what you needed; but if your belt guns and your saddle gun all used the same cartridge, you just dug into the saddle bag and started stuffing in bullets. That could help get your hero out of a really tight spot.
However, if you’re going to have your hero--or heroine or villain--carry two weapons that share ammunition, remember that the original Model 1873 was not made to use the.45 caliber Colt cartridge used in the very popular Colt “Peacemaker.”
But that doesn’t mean a Colt and a Winchester never shared ammunition. The popularity of the Winchester in .44-40 caliber had Colt manufacturing
a version of the Single Action Army "Peacemaker" revolver that could use the Winchester’s ammunition. This insured the success of the Winchester rifle.
“Most Texas Rangers and every old West cowboy worth his salt carried 1873 rifles. Chappo, the son of Apache war chief Geronimo, packed an 1873. And Buffalo Bill carried an 1873 lever-action rifle along with a pair of .44-40 Colts in 1876 when he worked as an Army scout.”
http://www.uberti.com/firearms/1873_rifle_and_carbine.php
If you’d like to see a reproduction in action, check out this video:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_RUsZ5U9xYw
Pay close attention to the difference in the amount of smoke produced between the first cartridges, which use modern smokeless powder, and the second set, which are loaded with a black powder substitute that is more like the black powder used in the 1800s. The smoke was always a factor with the weapons of the period. Every shot left a cloud that gave away the position of the shooter.
Finally, I have to share this really excellent list, the FIREAMS GLOSSARY from the Buffalo Bill Cody Museum in Cody, WY.
http://www.bbhc.org/firearms/research/
In 1847, Colonel Samuel Walker, Army commander and a Texas Ranger in John C. Hays’ company, approached Sam Colt to make a new, stronger, more powerful revolver. Colt took the order--but had no factory. He turned to Eli Whitney, Jr., son of the famous inventor of the cotton gin, who had a factory in Connecticut where the order was completed and shipped by mid-1847.
Named the “Walker” for the Colonel, this single action, six shot, black powder revolver was 15 ½” long and weighed--are you ready--4 pounds, 8 ounces! Unloaded! Add the lead balls, wadding, etc. and you’re close to 5 pounds. That’s as much as one of those big bottles of wine. Try gripping that and holding it steady at arms length.
Can you even imagine shooting that thing, let alone hauling a couple of them around all the time? Though Hollywood shows the Colt Walker as a belt gun, the Texas Rangers and the mounted troops under Walker’s command during the Mexican-American War, and on the Texas frontier, carried the Colt Walker in saddle holsters.
Just to give you a visual, in the pic on the right, Josey Wales holds a Colt Walker in his left hand and a Colt 1860 Army in his right.
In the picture on the left, character Augustus McCrae of
Lonesome Dove, is holstering his Colt Walker. See how long it is compared to Robert Duvall’s torso?
[Both of these pictures are from The Internet Movie Firearms Database, www.imfdb.org. It's a great site!]
With an effective range of 100 yards, the 1867 Walker could be loaded with as much powder as some muskets, making it the most powerful revolver of its day. In fact, it was more powerful than most modern pistols. The black powder Walker Colt is regarded by some experts as the most powerful commercially manufactured repeating handgun from 1847 until the introduction of the .357 Magnum in 1935.
“It proved to be a revolver of such size, weight, and heft that Colt was reputed to have said, "It would take a Texan to shoot it." Walker w
rote in 1847 that the gun was "as effective as a common rifle at 100 yards and superior to a musket even at 200." Far more powerful than the earlier Patersons, this gun quickly became legendary. For those who could afford it, the Walker Colt was a symbol of strength, authority and great financial means.
"Total production of the original Walker was about 1,100, a thousand of which were ordered by the U.S. Ordnance Department. The Walker was the first revolver ever purchased by the Army, and soldiers’ inexperience with a revolver resulted in a lot of “burst cylinders,” meaning all six chambers fired at the same time." [
http://americanhistory.si.edu/militaryhistory/collection/object.asp?ID=820]
The Colt Walker was quickly followed by the Colt Dragoon series of revolvers, which only improved on a very good thing.
