Email this page  Print this page  del.icio.us  digg  yahoo!  Comments  Feed

Subscribe to Shooting Sportsman : Print Section

A Maine Gun Goes Home

Returning a pinfire to its roots at Libby Camps

This F.P. Beringer 12-gauge pinfire was a gift to James B. Libby in the mid- to late-1800s. Who presented the gun and why are two of the many questions surrounding the gun.

Wise men have observed that money is better spent on new experiences than on new possessions. Probably so, but sometimes a new possession can lead to a great experience. This is such a tale.

At the August 2003 Big Reno Gun Show, the intent was to purchase only a few small accessories. However, there on the table of a friendly dealer was a pristine French 12-gauge side-by-side pinfire shotgun. The rib was marked in gold “F.P. Beringer Bte a Paris,” and below the barrel was an unusual ramrod-like device for knocking out stuck cases. The trigger guard pivoted to unlock the action in a manner similar to some guns made by Purdey in the 1860s, and there was a trapdoor in the buttplate under which two cartridges could be carried. All in all, a most interesting gun. But what closed the deal was an escutcheon in the buttstock that read: “Presented to James B. Libby Portland Me.”

Paris gunmaker Casimir Lefaucheux was granted a patent for the pinfire cartridge in 1835. Handguns and rifles used copper cases, whereas shotgun cartridges had metallic bases crimped onto cardboard tubes, much like modern ammunition. Pinfire arms became popular in Great Britain and on the Continent in the late 1850s. Every conceivable form of pinfire firearm was produced, from a military sword-revolver combo to animal trap guns. However, for reasons that remain unclear, pinfires never earned a strong following in the US. During the Civil War, both sides issued pinfire revolvers—the most notable user of which was Confederate Gen. Thomas J. “Stonewall” Jackson. Sharps and other makers flirted with the pinfire system, but by war’s end American arms and ammunition technology had settled on centerfire ignition.

Given the relative rarity of American pinfires, finding one with a direct Maine connection was surprising.

Author Steve, having previously researched a Sharps buffalo rifle and a Victorian Era tiger rifle, had developed a taste for guns with traceable provenance. Research began immediately to learn about F.P. Beringer and James B. Libby. The former would prove elusive.

Owners of better British guns usually enjoy ready access to original sales ledgers. American records are less complete, but it is seldom difficult to find at least some information on a domestic gunmaker. For German and French gunmakers, it can be difficult or impossible to locate information. It may be that two world wars savaged the records, or the information was never published, or perhaps that records were never kept. In the case of F.P. Beringer, there was at least a starting point—the family name.

Beatus Beringer was born in Hangenbieten, France, in 1801. He spent his life in gunmaking and was awarded a number of patents related to cartridge design and ignition. Beringer displayed five “fowling pieces” at the Great London Exhibition of 1851. Surviving specimens of his work are normally marked “Berin-ger” and of very high quality. He died in 1869, and the successor business, until 1872, was called Beringer-Rochatte. The Libby gun most likely was made in the late 1850s or early ’60s. It has a single locking bite, which quickly lost favor for a perceived lack of strength. The 30-inch Damascus barrels are Cylinder-bored and carry only provisional Belgian proof marks. Fit and finish are excellent. We have so far found no mention of a Beringer with the initials F.P., so we presume that he was a son or brother of Beatus. The investigation continues.

Libby Camps is located on the shores of Maine’s Millinocket Lake.

Shortly after launching an Internet search for “James B. Libby Portland, Me,” a trickle and then a tidal wave of information appeared on the computer screen. The Libby name is as well known in Maine as Kennedy is in Massachusetts or perhaps Rockefeller is in New York. In 1637 John B. Libby sailed from England on the ship Hercules and settled in the Scarborough area. His descendants, who spell their name in a variety of ways, are woven into the fabric of Maine and the US. Libbys fought the British in the first naval engagement of the Revolutionary War. Frederick Libby was the first American flying ace of World War I. Sergeant George Libby won the Congressional Medal of Honor for saving his comrades during the Korean War. Willard Libby won the Nobel Prize in chemistry as the inventor of Carbon-14 dating. As this is written, John W. Libby is the Adjutant General of Maine’s National Guard.

Since 1904 the John Libby Family Association (www.libbyfamily.org) has held annual reunions. Genealogical research has resulted in a three-volume record that details the complex relationships of the clan. The JLFA provided us with substantial information about James B. Libby, the recipient of the shotgun. Born in Limerick, Maine, in 1816, James was the third son of the Reverend Elias and Jane (Jewell) Libby. He married Hannah Catherine Morrill in 1839, and they had three children. His vocation, first in Limerick, and then in Portland, was selling dry goods. Later, in New York City, he became a successful wool commission merchant. He was also a member of the directorate of both the International Steamship Company and the Harper Manufacturing Company. Hannah died in 1879 and James in 1889.

We had many questions about the Beringer gun. Chief among them were: Who presented Libby the gun—and why? Was the presentation in recognition of a stellar business deal? A birthday present? Was Libby a hunter? If so, why was he given a French gun that used obscure ammunition? To try to answer these questions, the JLFA posted a short notice about the gun in the family newsletter. Unfortunately, no additional information resulted. We also tried to follow the trail back through the previous owners of the gun, but that, too, hit a dead end.

The pinfire-gun collector is the illegitimate half-brother of the Maytag repairman and Rodney Dangerfield—he has nothing going on and he gets no respect. The annual meeting of the International Pinfire Collectors Association is held in Bakersfield, California, in the back seat of a Yugo in odd-numbered leap years. Given the superb condition and quality of the gun, to say nothing of the illustrious history of the Libby family, the Beringer shouldn’t simply have been retired into the obscurity of a safe. But what else was there to do? The answer came in the mail.

Matt Libby (above, left) and his son, Matt Jr., hosted the authors for several days of grouse hunting in Maine’s North Woods.

In the Orvis catalog we spotted a newly endorsed wingshooting destination: Libby Camps, the oldest family run hunting operation in Maine. Could it be? The owner, Matt Libby, confirmed that he was a distant relative of James B. Libby. The next call was to Ralph Stuart, Editor in Chief of SSM. He blessed our proposal to take the Libby gun “home” for a hunt with James B.’s descendants. Two more phone calls filled out our party, and we made reservations for a mid-October grouse and woodcock hunt.

Given the condition of the Beringer, it was not clear whether it ever had been fired, which may answer the question regarding James B. being a hunter. (On the other hand, if the Beringer was bespoke, the 15-inch stock and half-inch cast-on may indicate that he was a tall southpaw.) It seemed appropriate to pattern the gun and give it a workout on the skeet field before using it in the wilds of Maine. Commercial pinfire ammunition is not available. Handloading is a labor of love and only for the most devoted. The recipe—83 grains (three drams) of Goex 2f, a CCI No.11 Magnum cap, appropriate wads and one ounce of No. 8 shot—produced velocities slightly greater than 1,100 fps. Patterning revealed that shooting beyond 25 yards was best not attempted. Results on the skeet field were encouraging, but with a loaded weight of 7 pounds 13 ounces and bulbous hammers obscuring side vision, this was not an upland hunter’s dream gun. Some likened its dynamic characteristics to a “pig on the end of a shovel.”

To get from California to northern Maine takes a full day, so we decided to overnight at the airport Sheraton in Bangor. The next morning the 45-minute flight north by chartered floatplane to Libby’s was a postcard ride that took us alongside Mount Katahdin and over hundreds of lakes and rivers surrounded by luscious fall colors. We landed on Millinocket Lake and were greeted at the dock by the Libby family. We were at the southern edge of Maine’s North Woods—3-1/2 million acres of forest crisscrossed by miles of unpaved logging roads in every stage of re-growth. Can you say “prime grouse and woodcock habitat”?

We made a small ceremony of unpacking the Beringer gun. We had shipped it ahead along with some ammunition, because blackpowder ammunition can’t go in your baggage—and sometimes your baggage doesn’t go where you go. Our group also had a Winchester Model 23 in 20 gauge, a Ruger 28-gauge Red Label and a couple of Browning Citoris in 12 and 20. SSM Editor-at-large Silvio Calabi could join us for only one day, as his daughter had scheduled her wedding that weekend. Possibly to make the Beringer less conspicuous, he brought a 24-bore Ferlib side-by-side with .410 GaugeMate chamber inserts.

Libby’s lodge is like most such—friendly, comfy and resonating with stories and memories. Power is by generator, which shuts down every night at 9 pm. There is WiFi but no TV, landline or cell-phone service. The log cabins are heated by wood stoves and lit by gas lamps. The operation has a distinct late-19th Century feel, born naturally of its age.

According to Matt Libby, the Bangor-Aroostook railroad finally got to that part of the state in 1895. By then the family already was operating “outpost” hunting camps and, in Oxbow, a hotel. In the early years the setup was known as Atkin’s Camps, although it was run by the Libbys. Ownership passed through several branches of the family until the death, in 1938, of Matt’s great-uncle triggered a family dispute. At that point Matt’s father bought three of the cabins at the current location. In the 1950s he acquired more cabins, which were disassembled, floated across Millinocket Lake, and then reassembled on site. Matt’s father died in 1959, and then his mother ran the operation until Matt bought it in 1977. Libby’s is known for trout fishing as well as deer, bear and moose hunting. Wingshooting  always has been part of the menu.

The next morning we were paired up with guides and dogs—mostly Brittanys —and set off via a 4x4 to the coverts. About two hours into the first morning, a grouse flitted through the shadows of the trees. Our guide and his Brittany moved in for the point and flush, and author Steve made a quick low-angle shot that sent smoke rolling into the forest and obscured the results. A short search located the stone-dead bird, and the celebrating began. What a relief! Had this shotgun ever killed a bird? Over the next few days many in our group fired the Beringer for photos and on game, but the gun must have sensed the hands of pinfire unbelievers, as those shotstrings and birds couldn’t seem to get together. And although some hunters found the elusive timberdoodle, no woodcock presented themselves to the potent pinfire. Perhaps another trip to Libby’s is necessary.

The Beringer spent three days in the rain. If we listened carefully—late at night, over a Scotch—we swore we could hear rust forming as the dampness gleefully climbed into bed with the blackpowder fouling. Each evening we battled the creeping orange menace with patch after patch of Hoppe’s No. 9 Plus Black Powder Solvent. Otherwise, despite truly ugly chamber fouling, we experienced no extraction problems, and operating the trigger-guard underlever quickly became second nature. Our misses were, as usual, behind—not due to any technological limitations of an “obsolete” gun.

Pinfire cartridges also can be vulnerable to moisture. Gravity tries to bring water down the pin directly into the upturned percussion cap. Because Steve’s other pinfires have served in duck blinds, that problem already had been identified and solved: A tiny bead of children’s modeling clay was wrapped around the pin where it entered the case. When the shell was chambered and the breech closed, the clay spread to seal the case and the pin slot in the barrel. It wasn’t pretty, but it worked.

Day three was the most noteworthy: Your authors were moving down a logging road when a grouse appeared just inside the treeline. Matt Libby Jr. and Brooke, his Brittany, circled into the woods and, zoom, out came a grouse. Roger cut loose with two rounds from the M-23, and Steve popped a cap on the Beringer. No harm done. As Roger reloaded, another grouse flushed from right to left. The Beringer belched a huge cloud of white smoke, and the grouse was en route to the evening hors d’oeuvre tray. On the way back to the lodge we pulled off a repeat maneuver, but this time, in a perfect low-house station No. 8 skeet shot, the grouse flushed directly over us. We both fired at the same moment and sent the bird tumbling. Fading autumn light, a huge lingering cloud of pale smoke and feathers slowly descending like snowflakes.

An uncanny resemblance: James B. Libby (left) and Matt Libby.

At the lodge one evening the question   about the exact relationship between James B. and Matt Libby resurfaced. The JLFA had e-mailed us a scan of an engraving of James B. that had been done around 1870, when he was about the age that Matt is now. We took a photo of Matt, downloaded it to a laptop and displayed both images on the screen side by side. Matt’s wife and daughter-in-law gasped. Matt alleges that the family tree split many generations ago. When asked to explain the uncanny resemblance, he dryly observed, “Maybe there was something going on in Scarborough that’s not in the family history.”

Fine craftsmanship and embellishment can produce a gun that is beautiful but not necessarily interesting. And most guns, regardless of price, exist in obscurity—their travels, travails and successes unrecorded. James B. Libby’s 12-gauge Beringer is an exception. It is an “interesting” gun that now has connected distant generations. One day Libby Camps will have Matt Jr. as its sixth-generation proprietor. Perhaps then one of our relatives will be able to return with the Beringer and add another chapter to the story. And in the meantime we may uncover who gave James B. this unusual gun and why.

Authors’ Note: For more information on Maine grouse and woodcock hunting, contact Libby Camps, 207-435-8274; www.libbycamps.com.

Steve Helsley, a retired California law-enforcement executive, is currently a consultant for the NRA. He is also a collector of vintage British firearms and an avid reloader. Roger Sanger is the founder and past president of the California Side by Side Society. He co-founded the Gold Medal Concours in 2001 and the Western Concours in 2008.

Libby Camps is located on the shores of Maine’s Millinocket Lake.

Do you like what you read? Subscribe to Shooting Sportsman»