of 1915 offering a single-barrel hammer top-lever breech opener 410 smoothbore [9]. In 1919, Winchester introduced the Model 20, which was a single-barrel, break-open, boxlock, hammer shotgun. These shotguns were truly meant as a “kid’s gun, a woman’s gun, or a pot gun for the barn and camping trip...” [10]
However, by the middle 1920s, skeet shooting as a recreational phenomenon had developed to such an extent that the expensive double shotgun manufacturers found an enthusiastic market. Hence, in the middle and late 1920s, Parker, L.C. Smith, and Ithaca introduced the 410 bore, initially in their less expensive grades but eventually in virtually all grades.
Parenthetically, it was in this era when Purdey made its first modern hammerless baraction sidelock double in the 410 bore, personally manufactured and assembled by perhaps the greatest shotgun artisan of his generation, Harry Lawrence [11].
The earliest American 410s, introduced at the time of the Great War, were chambered for the 2 1/2-inch shell. This continued into the early 1930s for all 410s including one of the most interesting ever produced, the Marlin 410 lever action, manufactured from 1929 to 1932.
In 1933, Winchester introduced the Model 42 with 2 1/2-and 3-inch chambers, the latter for the new Winchester Western 3-inch 410 shell. Winchester pioneered the longer shell in the early 1930s, with 3/4 ounce of shot and designed the Model 42 Winchester pump shotgun for it. The earlier 2- and 2 1/2-inch shells were loaded with 3/8 and 1/2 ounce of shot respectively.
The explosion of interest in target shooting coincided with increased opportunities for both women and children to participate in the sport of shotgunning. The initial assumption was that the 410, because of its small size and light weight, was an ideal gun for a beginning shotgunner. In time, however, it became apparent that the 410 was instead a gun for the expert marksman. It is not difficult to appreciate that the smaller the pattern and firepower, the larger the need for accuracy and judgment in the use of a 410.
By the middle 1930s, the tremendous popularity of target shooting compelled manufacturers (especially Parker and other double-barrel gunmakers who appealed to shotgun target shooters, a generally affluent middle-class lot) to introduce a shotgun choked Skeet & Skeet to serve the needs of the amateur and professional shooter. A philosophical change in American society transformed hunting into more of a recreational pastime and less of a mode for survival. This change resulted in shotgunning becoming, in part, the province of the target shooter and the finesse game bird gunner, rather than the subsistence hunter.
The development of the double gun served the purposes of conservation as well as recreation and the introduction of the 410 bore increased the challenge of shotgunning. An additional phenomenon was the developing American taste for a sense of aesthetics in her guns that was grandly realized in the delicate, subtle, and svelte lines of the 410.
However, its apparent refinement proved to be a most difficult characteristic for the typical shotgun writer in the middle 50 years of the 20th century to cope with. Indeed, machismo was a sine qua non for a successful gun writer who wished to flourish during this era.
Major Charles Askins groaned as early as 1929 that the 410 was “fit only for women and children,” because it “kicks” like a 22-caliber rifle. He further observed that the 410 has become “strangely popular” for a “full-grown man” who wished to use it to bag game. Such a man “had really never grown up” or “nature made a mistake in fixing his sex.” He did allow that a boy could use the 410 until his mid-teen years without contempt from his elders [12].
An Askins’ progeny still laments “the tragic mistake” to introduce shotgunning to a beginner with a 410 [13]. The American skeet-shooting mindset, where you have to shatter 100 successive targets to have a good time, reflects this attitude.
Elmer Keith represented an archetypical example of such attitudes when he huffed that no bore smaller than the 20 gauge should ever have been made. He mocked Frank Pachmayr’s 410 “close range” and “easy shooting” of pen-raised and liberated chukars in an alfalfa field. “Trying to shoot big upland birds with a 410 bore” he growled, is like using a “270 on elk.” Yet, he describes having patterned a “3-inch” cartridge with the lever-action Marlin 410 with 7-1/2 shot. “No bird the size of a pheasant or mallard could have gotten through this 30-inch circle without receiving three or four” hits. “Just the same,” he “never could see any earthly use for the 410” except for the taxidermist [14]. By the way, the Marlin 410 was never chambered for the 3-inch cartridge.
It was a mistake, Keith carries on, to ever “arm anyone for game shooting with a 410 bore.” He went on endlessly about never seeing “any reason for the tiny 410 gauge.” “The 410 is all right for shooting rats in the barn or in the basement, but that about lets it out, to my notion.” Even the fair-minded Jack O’Connor, when describing the origins of the 410 shell, considered it an embryonic form in the shape of “such little pest cartridges” as the 44 XL [10]. He acknowledged it was a “gun for skeet shooting” but then lamented that it was “not a man’s gun.” In a delightful O’Connor hagiography, a listing of over 20 “favorite” shotguns listed the smallest bore as a 28 [10a].
Even a modern premier gun writer offers a similarly caustic refrain but with a tincture of fondness. He refers to the 410 as a “Little Bitch” (a term of endearment normally reserved for female dogs and human harlots) [15]. He complains, “it’s bad news for beginners.” He further laments that, “Boys have given up shooting forever” because the 410 was their first bore. This is haughty nonsense. His first bore was his granddad’s single-shot 410, and shooting his first quail with it is “as clear now as it was then.” He waxes on proudly recalling, “rabbits and squirrels were dead meat.”
McIntosh’s nostalgia finally overwhelms his prejudice and ends in affection, as it does for many American and British gun writers. Though big bore shooters as hoary adults, they started as 410 shooters and look back wistfully and with profound sentiment in the pages of their books and magazine essays.
With these early endorsements, it is a wonder that the 410 gauge survived its maiden voyage in America. Although the writers’ antipathy may reflect their degree of marksmanship, it more likely reflects the ambivalence, even aversion that the American male had toward those aesthetic characteristics traditionally attributed to the feminine domain. Yet, how many of us started shooting with a single-barrel hammer 410, wisely selecting our targets for an effective kill and to husband precious cartridges? The 410 gauge forced us to be accurate, disciplined, and quiet stalkers of small game. All of these attributes were traditionally male.
Today, certainly, the collector/investor interest in the 410 gauge is testimony to its existence as the ultimate embodiment of beauty and function in a double shotgun. This, together with its rarity in all makes and grades, makes the 410 vulnerable to the verbal extravagances of the aficionado. It certainly has “come a long way” from a pest control walking stick to its present day financial and artistic apogee.
In summary, the earlier single-barrel and well-made American 410s, made in the second and third decades of the 20th century, were in response to the needs of predator hunters, pot shooters, bird collectors, and the young. These were guns such as the Iver Johnson Champion, introduced in 1916, and the Winchester Model 20, introduced in 1919. The expensive doubles responded to the desires of the increasingly affluent American target and small game shooter who wanted a challenge wrapped in a mechanical work of art.
The 410 Collectable Side-by-Side
This phenomenon began to occur