At almost 90 years old, the .220 Swift still enjoys a cult-like fol- lowing, and factory-loaded ammunition is still offered. Terry’s Pre- ’64 Winchester Model 70 rifle in .220 Swift (manufactured in 1953) is a masterpiece of riflemaking.
August 08, 2024
By Terry Wieland
In its initial factory loading, the .220 Swift launched a 48-grain bullet at a velocity of 4,110 fps and had a trajectory like a stretched banjo string. It was introduced in 1935 by Winchester Repeating Arms, into a world that thought the .219 Zipper was pretty hot stuff. It left them in the dust. If velocity were everything, the Swift’s career would have been stellar. But velocity, it turned out, could take you only so far. A cartridge also needed a supporting cast of gunmakers, ammunition companies, and—above all—influential supporters. Alas, many of the influential men of the 1930s, men who wrote about rifles in magazines like American Rifleman, had reason to hate the Swift. Several, such as Jerry Gebby and Grosvenor Wotkyns, had been involved in early development of the cartridge Winchester wanted to set the world on fire. Their recommendation, the .250-3000 necked down to .22 caliber, was rejected in favor of the 6mm Lee Navy case, and like rejected suitors, they took their revenge, in print, with all kinds of accusations—some valid, some not. Early rifles from Winchester were barreled with soft steel, which could not withstand the Swift’s pressures, and this gave rise to several semivalid beliefs, mainly excessive barrel wear. The anti-Swift bandwagon gathered speed, with more clambering aboard and condemning the Swift as difficult, and even dangerous, to load and having limited versatility. I don’t think anyone ever questioned its accuracy, but I could be wrong.
When Winchester resumed civilian production after 1945, the Model 70 was given a modern steel-alloy barrel, and later stainless steel, and this largely solved the erosion problem. Unfortunately, the Swift’s bad reputation was established, seemingly, for all time. Last year, during a visit to the headquarters of a prominent German rifle company that provides barrels in dozens of calibers, big and small, I asked about adding the Swift. The response? “But doesn’t it burn out barrels?” The answer is, no more than any other high-intensity cartridge. But that’s not enough. In The Modern Rifle (1975), Jim Carmichel, an unreconstructed Swift fan, offered several explanations for the accusation of barrel wear, and since he had been around to see it, we can take him at his word. Many times, he wrote, custom riflemakers, commissioned to build Swifts, rechambered barrels intended for .22 Hornets and the like. These were made of softer steel and didn’t stand up.
Another factor, which we can probably take as a given, is that it was accepted wisdom that the most accurate barrels, with the finest, smoothest rifling, were made from relatively soft carbon steel. Even into the 1970s, it was agreed that stainless steel could not be as accurate as carbon steel. They believed you can have accuracy, or you can have durability, but not both. Today, with modern steels and hammer-forged barrels, the Swift could probably be made to equal anything. In 1961 Winchester gave in and relegated the Swift to custom orders only, then abandoned it completely two years later. Two years after that, in 1965, and a year after Winchester’s fateful 1964 reworking at the hands of some executives from Ford Motor Co., it introduced the .225 Winchester. Not a bad cartridge in itself—essentially a .219 Zipper Improved—but completely out of step with the times. It was to cartridges what the Edsel was to Ford, which is ironically appropriate when you think about it. Gebby, Wotkyns, and company had the last laugh when, in 1965, Remington legitimized the .22-250, launching one of the all-time .22-caliber success stories. Oddly, however, the .220 Swift refused to die. Companies continued to make ammunition and brass. Obviously, there was demand, and a cult grew up around it. This was due, in part, to the wonderful quality of Pre-’64 Model 70s, chambered for the Swift in 26-inch barrels of high-quality steel. Some writers have specified 1953 as the absolute sweet spot of Pre-’64 production, and a 1953 .220 Swift is a masterpiece of riflemaking. They don’t come cheap. Winchester collectors covet them, especially those in good condition. Expect to part with $2,000 at least. Could be, though, you’ll cover the expense by getting rid of every other .22 centerfire you own, saving maybe a .22 Hornet for squirrels and a .222 Remington because they’re so cute. As it nears 90 years of age, the .220 Swift is still attracting converts to the cult. That tells you something.
