This was an invitation he could not overlook. A repeating carbine — the possibilities were great indeed.
At three o’clock, therefore, he found himself in the company of Elisha Collier on the heath at Hampstead. On their way there Collier, who professed himself an American citizen but one who was as loyal to King George as it was possible in his circumstances to be, spoke loquaciously but omitted anything of substance — until Hervey began to think that the engagement would prove futile. But once they arrived, Collier set about his demonstration with such purpose that Hervey was soon able to imagine that he was indeed to see something singular. From the boot of the chaise Collier’s assistant removed a pallet, three feet by two, and six inches thick, and attached it to a tree some thirty paces away, pinning a roundel target to it. He then beat the cover beyond the tree for as far again. When he was finished, Collier turned to Hervey. ‘I believe you have, sir, faced many an enemy at such a range, and I hazard that many was the time when you felt the want of handiness in your service weapon.’
Hervey made no response. Both propositions were palpably certain for a soldier.
‘Then, sir, you may have no fear ever of finding yourself in such a predicament again,’ Collier declaimed, raising his hat and bowing.
The gesture was so theatrical as to make Hervey smile. But at once Collier’s expression turned almost demonic. He pulled open the portmanteau at his feet, pulled out a long single-barrelled pistol, took rapid aim at the target and with scarcely a pause to recock and close the pan-cover between each, fired seven rounds. Hervey, though startled, watched the making of holes in the roundel and clapped his hands in admiration. ‘A very effective display of musketry, indeed, Mr Collier — not merely of pyrotechny!’
Collier’s benign expression returned. He looked pleased by the acclamation. ‘I think I may safely wager, sir, that every round may be accounted for in that target. Do you wish to inspect it closely?’
‘No, I do not think there is need for the present,’ replied Hervey, eyeing the weapon keenly. ‘I have read about such guns, Mr Collier — they are hardly new — but the cylinders or barrels were always turned manually, and they were prone to jamming. Yours, very evidently, has some mechanical means of rotation. And a reliable one at that.’
‘Indeed, sir — just so! That is its ingenuity. You may readily suppose of its handiness to mounted men in particular.’
Hervey was ready to acknowledge it, not least in the thought of how it might have served in Serjeant Strange’s hands that day with the French lancers. Strange’s sacrifice still visited him, and all too often. No one had managed to persuade him that his actions that day could not have been other than they had been. Perhaps it was simply that he had galloped away from the lancers, and Strange had stayed. That he had had to gallop away, he could not reasonably doubt. That Strange had had to stay, to delay the lancers, he could not doubt either. But still there was something that gnawed at him. ‘And impressive for its being a
Collier eyed him curiously, and Hervey wished at once he had said nothing. But was there any reason why this American should have known of the percussion-lock which had saved his life at Waterloo?
‘May I explain that mechanism, sir?’ Collier continued.
Hervey was now all attention.
‘You have noted, of course, sir, the cylinder arm of seven chambers. It is driven to rotate by a coiled spring which is first put into tension by rotating the cylinder anticlockwise — the opposite direction from which it turns in firing.’
Hervey was not so overawed by the earlier spectacle as to be at a loss with such mechanical principles, and he frowned a trifle impatiently.
‘Forgive me, sir,’ said Collier hastily, ‘I did not wish to impute—’
‘No matter,’ said Hervey. ‘It has been a long day. Please go on.’
‘The very essence of this action — as you will appreciate, sir — is to have absolute alignment of chamber and barrel-breech after each rotation. It is this which has defeated all gunmakers until now.’
Hervey nodded again. There were a number of other things too, but he was content now to acknowledge that the alignment was the most crucial.
‘A cone — shall we call it a “male” — is formed at the breech and “mated”, as it were, successively with a “female” countersink cut in the mouth of each chamber, locking the chamber and barrel into alignment.’
‘But how is the chamber held fast against the barrel-breech, since you have just shown me that you pull back the cylinder in order to rotate into tension?’
Collier smiled. ‘Yes, yes indeed, sir! A rare grasp of mechanical detail if I may say so.’ He pulled back the cylinder again. ‘Two means there are. First a helical spring — not the same as for the rotation, mind — and second is this’ — he indicated a small sliding bolt — ‘which is sent forward by the fall of the cock to butt against the rear of the cylinder. It locks it quite sound, and acts, too, as a safety device, since it prevents the cock from falling fully unless the barrel and cylinder are correctly engaged.’
‘That is, I declare, ingenious,’ nodded Hervey, trying it for himself. ‘And the rotation: how does the cocking advance the cylinder?’
‘See this hook, sir, linked to the hammer?’ said Collier, handing the arm to him. ‘It is engaged with a skirt on the rear of the cylinder — see? When the cock is drawn back the hook pulls back the cylinder from the breech and the spring does its work. As soon as the next chamber comes into line the hook finds a notch in the skirt and is disengaged — and the helical spring forces the cylinder forward again.’
Hervey smiled. It was very ingenious indeed, so ingenious that he almost forgot about the actual initiation of the charges. ‘Now that much I am assured of, Mr Collier. But how are the chambers fired?’
‘Let me demonstrate, sir,’ said the American, taking back the arm. ‘It is, if I may say so myself, a particularly tidy method. Each time the pan-cover is shut down for discharge, this ratchet and pawl here puts successive deposits of priming powder into the flash pan by turning a feed plug — you can’t quite see it with the arm assembled, sir — at the bottom of the steel.’
Hervey shook his head and smiled in admiration again. ‘May I fire it myself?’
‘Why of course, Captain Hervey. Let my assistant load the chambers first and fill the priming magazine, and then you shall put the spring under tension and fire at will.’
Collier’s assistant handed Hervey the loaded arm and asked if he wished the roundel to be replaced. Hervey replied that this should not be necessary since they were sure that there were seven hits there already.
‘Shall I fit the butt to it, sir, so that you may fire it as carbine?’ asked Collier, holding up the extension.
‘No thank you. I should like to feel its balance as a pistol, for the barrel is uncommonly long. Do I presume it is rifled?’
‘Indeed it is. With nine lands. That is what gives it its accuracy. I wager I could have placed five marks on that roundel at twice the distance.’
Hervey was surprised by the ease with which he could hold the aim, for the barrel was in excess of two feet. He squeezed the trigger. The gun jumped back in his hand more than would the service pistol, but it was not excessive. He cocked again.
‘Close the pan, sir,’ prompted Collier.
Hervey fired again. There was not as much smoke as he expected, and he saw at once that the second round had struck the target too, on the outer ring again. He adjusted his aim and repeated the action — and then a fourth and a fifth time. It was extraordinarily handy. He could scarce believe it. The sixth and seventh rounds he fired with equal address. How perfect the weapon would be were it percussion-fired, as his own special carbine was. What odds then might a dragoon accept!
‘You are much impressed with it, yes, Captain Hervey?’ asked Collier.
