


In the 1870’s they had adopted the Mauser Model 1871, a single-shot rifle firing a large-caliber black-powder round.īig-bore black powder rifles were the order of the day: the French used the 11mm Gras, the British the. The Germans had been victorious in the Franco-Prussian War of 1870-71 partly due to superior weapons, mainly the famous Dreyse “Needle Gun,” a bolt action black-powder breechloader that used a rudimentary form of self-contained ammunition. It has some odd features reminiscent of other designs, and is often (quite incorrectly) called a “Model 1888 Mauser.” It isn’t a Mauser at all and shares more features with Mannlicher’s rifles than anything else. It was designed by a committee, a German military commission seeking a replacement for their obsolescent issue rifle. The “Repetier Gewehr 1888,” is one of the significant mileposts in the development of the modern rifle. Conversely, when I hold an old rifle in my hands, I am temporarily in the shadow of those who’ve handled and used it before. Most of the rifles I own existed before I did and will in time pass into other hands, taking with them a little bit of me. I'll freely admit that I'm something of a mystic in this matter of what shooting and weapons represent to me, but as the horizon of my own life gets nearer, I’ve come to understand that my ownership and use of a weapon is really only part of its history. With time, any rifle can acquire a patina of age and experience, and a halo of remembrance and emotional significance: but an old rifle comes with all of that the day you bring it home. It can’t have one: it’s been nowhere, done nothing, and has no memories embedded inside its substance. Custom-made guns are often works of art as well as supremely efficient weapons.īut while there are certainly many fine rifles made today, and while defining the line between “old” and “new” in a technological sense isn’t easy (most modern rifles are based on designs a century old or more) it’s undeniable that any brand-new rifle, whether it’s from the rack at Wal-Mart or a bespoke gunmaker, naturally lacks what (for want of a better word) I have to call “character.” It has no history. They’re fantastically accurate by any reasonable standard, outstanding examples of how a product for the mass market can embody precision manufacture and modern materials at remarkably low prices. Is it possible to see a M1898 Mauser without thinking of the countless men who shivered alongside one in the trenches of the Western Front? Of an AK-47 without having mental images of pajama-clad VC, or turbaned mujaheddin? Of a Garand without thinking about the Normandy landing? Of a Winchester lever action and not a cowboy?Ĭurrent factory production rifles, even inexpensive ones, are technological marvels. A rifle thus is an emblem, a symbol of something much greater. In the course of its working life it takes on some of the qualities of the men who designed and used it. It’s used by an individual or, over time, a few individuals. The rifle is a personal weapon, unlike a bomb. The evolution of the rifle as a tool of fighting and hunting is intensely interesting. I like most old technological artifacts and I particularly like old rifles. One can argue whether this is good or bad, but an undeniable fact is that one definition of “human” could be "the animal that makes and uses weapons," and it will always be so. Other species do use tools, but no others, so far as I know, have developed a special sub-class of tools that are specifically intended as weapons. The mystique and arcana of weaponry go back to our earliest beginnings: the very fact that we are the only species to develop, use, and continually refine weapons is one thing that partially qualifies us as “human” in the first place. It is even older than Man himself, really. The manufacture of weapons is Man’s oldest occupation.
