The Shiloh Sharps Model 1863 Rifle: Historical Lookback

Nearly two centuries ago, riflemen were abuzz with the potential for firearms that loaded from the breech. Innovation abounded among those of inventive bent, and myriad different designs were attempted. Most failed. Others enjoyed a brief existence but faded when metallic cartridges roared onto the scene in the aftermath of the Civil War. Sharps single-shot rifles did not fade. Perhaps they were the only exception. Christian Sharps’s falling-block, breech-loading design of 1848 utilized paper-bodied cartridges and could be loaded with a loose .52-caliber bullet and powder in a pinch. After a few years’ worth of refinements, it was renamed the Model 1863, and it became a popular breechloader that fought during the Civil War in the hands of Berdan’s Sharpshooters. Various iterations also served in conflicts from India to Argentina to eastern Asia. The design evolved into the Model 1874—a version that employed metallic cartridges and fast became the most popular buffalo gun to hunt the Great Plains. It was also a regular contender in international long-range matches at Creedmoor and accounted for the longest recorded shot during the Indian Wars—Billy Dixon’s 1,538-yard shot that knocked a warrior from his horse during the Battle of Adobe Walls. The fundamental Sharps design is—as far as I’m aware—the only proper blackpowder firearm that, with adaptations, successfully made the transition to metallic cartridges. Across all variations, more than 120,000 were made. Until sometime in the mid-1970s, the only Sharps rifles available were originals. They were costly to purchase, already having some notoriety as collectibles, and firing them was considered somewhat questionable due to that collectible value. Then a company named Shiloh Sharps began manufacturing reproductions—and not just any reproductions: These rifles were as good as if not better than the originals and were absolutely “correct.”

Mechanicals

Of falling-block design, the Model 1863 features a massive breechblock with a nipple for a percussion cap at the top right, a vent hole with two right angles through the block and into the chamber, and a pressure plate engineered to self-seal against the rear of the barrel when fired. The top edge of that pressure plate was ground with a sharp edge so as to easily cut through the rear of a paper cartridge, if necessary. Before opening the lever, it’s best to ear the big hammer back to halfcock. Otherwise, the nose of the hammer drags on the nipple and can gall it. To enable easy field-stripping for cleaning, the lever’s pivot pin has a long tail that dovetails into a slot on the side of the receiver and is secured by a detent. Press the detent, rotate the pin’s tail, and pull it sideways out of the receiver. The breechblock will slide out into your hand. Clean the barrel from the breech and scrub the breechblock well with a toothbrush and pipe cleaners.

Provenance

During my early teens (some 35 years ago), I became enamored with the Model 1863. I confess I don’t recall exactly why. However, I managed to infect my father and brother with my enthusiasm, and we took a long weekend and drove to the Shiloh Sharps manufacturing facility in Big Timber, Montana. At that point it was still owned by founder Wolfgang Droege, a fine gunmaker of German descent. Droege had negotiated to sell his Shiloh Sharps Rifle company to the Bryans and had a few .54-caliber reproduction Model 1863 personal rifles he was selling off. Two were Sporter versions; the other was a full-stocked military version. We bought all three. The one pictured here is the Sporter version I ended up with, at the ripe age of 14 or thereabouts.

Rangetime

As Droege showed us, the Model 1863 is easily loaded by dropping a conical, cast lead bullet of appropriate diameter into the chamber, pressing it into the chamber throat with a short dowel, and then pouring in a powder charge before closing the breech. Place a winged musket cap on the nipple, cock the massive hammer, aim, and squeeze the trigger to fire. If desired, the Model 1863 can also be fired with paper cartridges. Paper or linen that’s been treated to be highly combustible is used to form a cylinder, closed on one end, which is filled with blackpowder and then topped with a conical bullet featuring a “tail” around which to secure the paper cylinder. Droege suggested making the paper cartridges slightly too long for the chamber so the sharp edge of the breechblock would shave off the rear and expose the blackpowder to the flash of the musket cap. Otherwise, the Model 1863 would commonly hangfire, as the flash of the cap takes a microsecond to burn through the rear of the paper cartridge. Being a Sporter version, my rifle has a cavernous propellant chamber. I discovered I could fit fully 200 grains of blackpowder in behind a 500-grain conical lead bullet—which would have caused savage recoil. Thankfully, Droege had assured us that it was entirely safe to fire the rifles with the chamber only partially full. Whether caused by the huge chamber or some other reason, my rifle was never particularly accurate. Groups averaged four to five inches at 100 yards—not the legendary precision I’d associated with Sharps rifles. My brother’s military 1863 held 80 grains of blackpowder snuggly in the chamber and tended to group much better—around two to three inches at 100 yards. Lucky sod.

Even so, I managed to take a depredation doe with my rifle, shooting her squarely through the vitals as she dashed past not 15 yards away. My brother did me one better, taking his first bull elk with his 1863 from a bit more than 100 yards. Then the 1990 film Quigley Down Under came out. I watched it several times, and it dawned on me that while the Model 1863 is historically significant, the Model 1874 is where the accuracy could be had. I quickly called Shiloh Sharps and laid down $50 to put a Model 1874 on order—but that’s a story for another time. I eventually lost interest in the Model 1863. It stood silent sentry in the rear corner of my safe, unfired for more than 30 years. Recently, I gathered up the necessary components and took it to the range. Just as I recalled, accuracy ran to about five-inch groups at 100 yards. Quite usable for practical purposes, and I rediscovered just how much fun the Model 1863 is to shoot. And although as a teen I dreaded cleaning it, I found meticulously purging the ’63 of every trace of blackpowder residue and then rubbing it down with fine gun oil rather therapeutic, now that I’ve seasoned a bit myself. Shiloh still manufactures Model 1863 rifles, and Pedersoli and Dixie Gun Works and others now offer them. Prices range from about $1,200 up for the Italian guns and $2,468 and up for the Shiloh rifles. In a very nice turn of events, most companies now offer Model 1863s in .45 caliber. You can use typical 0.458-inch-diameter .45-70 bullets cast of a soft lead alloy and lubed with SPG or some other blackpowder-specific bullet lube. What’s a reproduction Model 1863 Sharps good for? Pure cool factor. They’re historically significant, intrinsically interesting, and a ton of fun to shoot.    

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