THE MILITARY BOLT ACTIONS
On continental Europe, rifle development through the nineteenth century concentrated more on military than sporting use. The situation there was completely different than in Britain, both culturally and politically, and these differences evinced themselves not only in the way rifles were manufactured, but also the purposes for which they were made.
Britain, with its vast empire, was always on the verge of war somewhere, although these were usually tribal wars or border skirmishes. There was no threat that an enemy might appear with a serious technological advantage in the form of modern weapons. The only real wars Britain fought in the mid-nineteenth century were against Russia in the Crimea (1853–54), and against its own sepoys in the Indian Mutiny in 1857. Russia was not an industrial power, and the Indian Mutiny was fought with the British Army’s own weapons. With its army focused largely on imperial policing, the War Office was more concerned with saving money than enhancing firepower. As for the great nations on the continent, there was always the possibility of war with France, but that was more force of habit than actual threat. And if the French did become belligerent, the United Kingdom had its private moat in the English Channel, patrolled by the ships of the Royal Navy.
An entire generation of military historians, after 1918, sought explanations for the great arms races of Europe, from 1850 to 1914, and the origins of the “merchants of death.” These latter included familiar names: Mauser, Fabrique Nationale (FN), Mannlicher, Luger, Krupp, Skoda, and Steyr. If one were willing to go that far, one could trace the origins of it all back to Vercingetorix and the Romans. Not venturing quite so far, it’s safe to say that age-old enmities between, mainly, France and Germany were at the root of it all. Both France and Germany were essentially land powers, and their strength lay in their armies. France had not been a real naval power for centuries, and any lingering pretensions in that direction ended at Trafalgar in 1805. Germany never had been a naval power, nor really wished to be.
The French Army of King Louis XIV, and later the Grande Armée under Napoleon, had dominated Europe, and despite various defeats, the French Army was still reckoned the most powerful on the continent. The Prussians had challenged this, occasionally with some success (such as Blücher’s involvement at Waterloo), but were generally left in a position of trying to catch up to the French in order to hold their own. The third great European power was the Austro-Hungarian Empire. While it had a fleet in the Mediterranean, it was also largely a land power, with a substantial army. It had steadily lost ground since the Napoleonic Wars, and was preoccupied, first, with staving off Ottoman advances into Europe, and later the turbulent politics of the Balkan region. These conflicts called for well-trained infantry armed with rifles, not for ships of the line. If the Austro-Hungarians were politically weak, however, they did have significant industrial assets, and a first-rate arms-making industry that went back centuries.
The uniting of the disparate German states really began with King Frederick the Great of Prussia, and the rise of Prussia at the expense of the older states of Poland and Russia was the great catalyst. Once Prussia became the dominant German-speaking state (outside of Austria), it was logical for the many Teutonic kingdoms, principalities, palatinates, duchies, and electorates to eventually combine into one country. The man responsible for this was Prince Otto von Bismarck, a Prussian aristocrat. Until the unification was completed, Prussia acted on her own or with allies drawn from among the German states. The consolidation of Germany, and the establishment of Prussia as a force to be reckoned with in Europe, took place partly through a series of wars. The Prussian Army already had a reputation throughout the world that outstripped its actual size, which was never very large. It was, however, extremely good. Extremely. Prussian militarism, which became an object of faith in France and England, had its roots in Prussian culture all the way back to the Teutonic Knights of the twelfth century. An army career was as natural for a Prussian as entering the Royal Navy was for an Englishman. As Voltaire observed, “Where some states have an army, the Prussian Army has a state.” This was repeated more and more—usually by Frenchmen—in the years after Waterloo.
As a child learning history, I was taught that the Franco-Prussian War of 1870–71 was won by the Prussians because they possessed the Dreyse needle gun. This glib statement is, at best, only partly true. One might say that, had they not possessed the Dreyse, they might have lost, because the French infantry rifle at the time, the Chassepot, was vastly better. Unfortunately for the French, their generalship was vastly poorer.
Prussia adopted the Dreyse in 1842, and at that time it was state of the art. It was an early bolt-action that employed a paper cartridge containing a bullet, powder, and a primer. The firing pin was a long needle that penetrated the rear of the paper cartridge and passed through the powder charge to strike the primer at the base of the bullet. While the rest of the world was still using muzzleloaders, the Prussians were armed with a breechloader.
Where the Dreyse did have a decisive influence, both in military terms and in the history of rifles generally, was at the Battle of Königgrätz in 1866, during the Austro-Prussian War. This was the second of Bismarck’s wars that was instrumental in forging a united Germany. The Prussians, armed with the Dreyse, defeated the Austrians, who were armed with the muzzle-loading Lorenz. The Lorenz was a fine military weapon for its day, but its day had passed with the coming of the Dreyse. The major advantage of the Dreyse is the fact that it can be loaded and fired while the shooter is lying on the ground or kneeling, whereas the Lorenz must be loaded standing up. Against concentrated, accurate Prussian fire, a standing line of infantry was at a huge disadvantage.
By the time of the Franco-Prussian War, four years later, the French were armed with the Chassepot, also a bolt-action breechloader. It was lighter than the Dreyse, more dependable, had greater velocity and range, and was a superior rifle in every way. The Prussians more than compensated for this disadvantage with better artillery, superior tactics, and superb generalship.
The lasting impact of the Battle of Königgrätz on rifle history was that it inspired a young engineer to abandon his career with the Austrian railway and turn his inventive hand to firearms. That engineer was Ferdinand Mannlicher (later Ritter von Mannlicher), one of the great geniuses of firearms development. A patriot, he was determined to help arm his native Austria to defend herself against possible attacks from Russia, which was seen as the immediate threat post-Königgrätz. Mannlicher allied himself with Josef Werndl, founder of the Österreichische Waffenfabriks-Gesellschaft at Steyr, and together they not only provided Austria-Hungary with a succession of highly effective rifles over the next fifty years, they turned the Steyr works into one of the world’s great rifle manufacturers—a company that is still in business, and still making fine rifles, to this day.
For its part, Prussia defeated the French finally and almost irrevocably at the Battle of Sedan in 1871, but they recognized the superiority of the Chassepot rifle, and set about finding an up-to-date replacement for the Dreyse.
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By 1871, the military world was well into the era of breechloading rifles and self-contained cartridges. Even the British, never exactly trend-setters when it came to arming their infantry, were using the Snider-Enfield with its drawn-brass cartridge case, and looking ahead to a permanent replacement for that stop-gap measure. The replacement they chose was the Martini-Henry.
After Königgrätz, the Austro-Hungarian Empire was restructured to become the “dual monarchy,” consisting of the Austrian Empire and the Kingdom of Hungary, with Emperor Franz Joseph as both Emperor of Austria and King of Hungary. It was a very cosmopolitan empire; Franz Joseph was fluent in seven languages, which allowed him to speak in their native tongue to most—but by no means all—of his subjects. The political cracks that appeared after Königgrätz may have been papered over, but they were still there, and getting wider all the time. This resulted in political stagnation on the one hand but had far-reaching effects in other areas. An unintended consequence affected the Österreichische Waffenfabriks-Gesellschaft at Steyr, where Werndl, Mannlicher, et al, were laboring to arm the empire. If the British were frugal in their military spending, the Dual Monarchy was positively miserly. The arms factory at Steyr could not depend on purchases by Vienna and Budapest to keep its machines running, and was forced to look for export markets. Thus did Steyr become one of the foremost “merchants of death,” although they certainly did not see it that way.
After 1871, with the development of the self-contained brass cartridge, almost all the European powers adopted single-shot rifles as a stop-gap while they worked on repeating rifles.
In Germany, two brothers, Paul and Wilhelm Mauser, had gone into business as gunmakers in the 1860s. Paul was the talented designer, Wilhelm the manager. The history of Mauser is well known, and has been written many times and from many angles—from that of a mechanical engineer, to a military historian, to a social historian horrified by the Mauser company as a merchant of death. However, because the story of the Mauser brothers and their rifles is integral to our story here, it deserves recounting in some detail.
From the beginning, the Mauser brothers were interested in military rifles and government contracts, not in making rifles for either hunting or target shooting. Their initial customer was the Prussian government which, in 1871, adopted Mauser’s Model 71 single-shot rifle to replace the Dreyse. The Model 71 was a turnbolt-type action, and Mauser seems prescient in having settled on a basic mechanism that is the most versatile rifle action ever made, and which—with many adaptations and improvements—became the dominant military action throughout the world until 1945. Later, a tubular magazine was added to make the Model 71 into a repeating rifle (the Model 71/84). By that time, so many other developments were taking place in cartridges, magazines, and repeating mechanisms, the German government decided it once more needed a completely new rifle that would put it on the cutting edge of military hardware. It appointed a commission of the Prussian government to decide on a design.
The Commission ’88 rifle initiated many of the features found on later military and sporting bolt actions, including the turnbolt itself, safety mechanism, magazine, and method of feeding cartridges. Historically speaking, it is one of the great rifles of all time.
Ferdinand Mannlicher was already in full stride at Steyr, in Austria, developing his own turnbolt actions, and concentrating on different methods of storing and feeding cartridges. Today, it’s easy to forget that in this era, strides were being made almost daily in every area of rifle design and function. Cartridges were evolving, and calibers becoming steadily smaller; new smokeless powders were beginning to make an appearance, with higher pressures and higher velocities. It was the chicken-and-egg question multiplied by ten. An improvement in a rifle action led to a new cartridge that could take advantage of it; a new cartridge allowed further improvements in magazines, and this led to more sophisticated actions. Virtually every aspect of rifles and cartridges that we now take for granted (and which look so simple and obvious in retrospect) required long periods of evolution, trial, and error, before they were perfected.
In what may be the only instance of a truly fine rifle being designed by committee, the German 1888 Commission rifle was adopted and began a long and illustrious career. In official German military use, it lasted only until 1898, but it was exported all over the world and saw use by many different armies on many different battlefields. Large stocks were manufactured and kept in storage, and were being issued to reserve units in Europe as late as 1945.
The Commission rifle, as it is generally known, is variously claimed as a Mauser or a Mannlicher, but while it incorporates features that are definitely one or the other, it is neither a Mauser nor a Mannlicher. It’s a turnbolt repeating rifle with a magazine forward of the trigger guard that utilizes Mannlicher’s “packet” system. This was almost a Mannlicher trademark. Cartridges are held in a steel clip, and the entire packet is pushed into the magazine well. The bolt strips the cartridges out one at a time, with the remaining cartridges pushed up into position by a spring-loaded arm. When the last cartridge is chambered, the empty steel clip falls out the bottom of the action. This was Ferdinand Mannlicher’s most obvious contribution to the design. Paul Mauser’s was the dual opposing locking lugs near the head of the bolt, but Mannlicher is credited with its removable bolt head. The Commission made a contribution of its own, with the introduction of the 8x57 J (or “I,” for Infanterie) rimless cartridge. Whichever anonymous member or members of the Commission came up with the 8x57, he or they missed a golden chance at immortality. It was, and is, one of the great cartridges of all time.
The 8x57 JS (right) beside its equally famous offspring, the 7x57. Although both began life as military cartridgeso, both went on to be great hunting cartridges as well. Many of today’s favorite hunting cartridges are descended, directly or indirectly, from the 8x57.
The Mannlicher “packet” system of holding cartridges. The entire clip is inserted in the magazine well. When the last cartridge has been fed into the chamber, the empty clip falls out of the action. This system was used in the Commission ’88 rifle as well as in later Mannlicher designs, including the Model 1895 straight-pull military rifle.
In the mountainous, forested regions of central Europe, including the German states, Austria-Hungary, and Switzerland, there was a strong tradition of both big-game hunting and target shooting with rifles. These traditions went back centuries, and during that time certain styles and patterns had emerged. They were not only accepted, but almost mandatory. The target rifle was a single-shot, intended for either offhand shooting or from a bench, at ranges from 100 to 300 metres. These rifles were as intricate and elaborate as cuckoo clocks. The standard form of hunting rifle was a single-shot or a double, with the trend in double rifles favoring the over-and-under. They also developed and made a specialty of multi-barreled combination guns. The most common is the drilling, or three-barreled gun, which combined rifle and shotgun into one. Such weapons were mostly produced one at a time, in small shops, by independent gunmakers. In Austria, the town of Ferlach was the center of this activity, dating back centuries. Ferlach’s counterpart in Germany was Suhl. Like any craft, gunmaking was regulated partly by government decree and partly by guilds that set standards of craftsmanship and skill.
The Commission ’88 (top) not only provided inspiration for sporting rifles, such as this Haenel-Mannlicher New Model, but many ’88 military rifles and carbines were converted to sporters and used all over the world.
The great arms-making factories, like Steyr and Mauser, were generally located in other towns, where water power, rail access, and the varied requirements of modern industry could be met. The mass-production arms industries of Europe grew up apart from the traditional crafts of gunmaking. Partly for this reason, and partly due to conservatism, European hunters look down on rifles with military origins. They don’t want their big-game rifles to be, or look, in any way military. There were exceptions, of course, and gradually these prejudices were overcome. There was also a feeling, not entirely dispelled to this day, that repeating rifles (that is, with more than two or three shots) were unsporting. Both the Mauser factory at Oberndorf and the Steyr works in Austria, however, eventually became major manufacturers of hunting and target rifles.
Big-game hunting in Europe resembled stag stalking in Scotland, but only to a degree. In the Alps, hunters either climbed in search of game, or set up stands where they could overlook trails or alpine meadows. The rifles they used reflected this. The Alpinist wanted a light, handy, single-shot rifle he could strap on his back; the occupant of a hochsitz (high seat) wanted a heavier, accurate rifle; a prowler of woods and meadows might want a drilling with a shotgun barrel for birds, a high-powered rifle for red stag, and a small-caliber barrel for roebuck or capercaillie.
The Mannlicher Model 95 straight-pull rifle, using the packet system of loading, was the main military arm of the Austro-Hungarian Empire from 1895 to 1918.
When the self-contained brass cartridge was perfected, German and Austrian gunmakers embarked on a spree of designing cartridges for their own rifles. They then provided loaded ammunition to their clients, and countless numbers of specialty cartridges appeared, for short-range and long-range targets, big game, small game, and anything else that appealed to a gunmaker’s fevered imagination in the wee hours. A few of these creations became standard, with ammunition supplied by large companies.
The debut of the German Commission rifle of 1888 was a watershed for riflemakers, although they could not have known it at the time. It was produced under contract at many different factories, including the Austrian rifle works at Steyr, and it was produced in quantity. Its bolt-action system was the best one to date at that point, but did not remain so for long. The Mauser brothers were designing one turnbolt rifle after another, each one an improvement on what went before: 1891, 1893, 1894, and so on. Similarly, Ferdinand Mannlicher in Steyr was improving with each successive model, although he concentrated on straight-pull bolt rifles, with most using his packet system.
The packet method of loading was excellent for military rifles but poor for a hunting rifle. Paul Mauser had developed a box magazine in which cartridges were staggered, lifted into position by a spring-powered follower, and this was recognized as a good system for a hunting rifle. It was also versatile: It could be adapted to different cartridges much more easily than a pre-formed, sheet-steel, “packet” clip.
The Commission rifle used packets, but independent gunmakers saw how it could easily be reworked to include a box magazine similar to the Mauser. They also recognized that in the ultra-smooth and silent Commission action, they had the basis for a first-rate modern sporting rifle. Although its bolt handle jutted out at right angles, topped by a bulbous knob, this could be reshaped into something graceful and unobtrusive as well as ergonomic. With warehouses full of Commission rifles, and many gunmakers experienced in manufacturing them, the stage was set for the first real attempt to make a first-class hunting rifle out of a military bolt action.
The Mauser 98 (shown here in K98 form) was not only the dominant military rifle from 1898 to 1945, it was also the basis for outstanding hunting rifles, either purpose-built at Oberndorf, or converted military actions.
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There was one last step in the perfecting of the military bolt action in Europe, and that was Paul Mauser’s Model 1898. This was the rifle that replaced the Commission ’88 rifle in the German Army, and from the moment of its introduction it became the rifle that every other designer tried to beat for the next hundred years. Some came close in both military and civilian applications. There were bolt actions that were more accurate, there were some that fired more rapidly, and there were others that had greater cartridge capacity. One or two, it could be argued, were stronger. But none could be unequivocally termed better in every way.
Over the next fifty years, the Mauser Gewehr 98 evolved into the K98, and was then manufactured in several different countries, some of which made genuinely valuable improvements. What set the 98 apart from its rivals, such as the American Springfield or the British P-14 (both of which were frankly modeled on, derived from, or copied the Mauser), was its capacity for refinement, and for alteration to suit a specific purpose. The Mauser 98 has no single perceived weak point that cannot be eliminated if desired. When riflescopes became standard, it was possible to replace the Mauser’s over-the-top three-position safety with a horizontal safety on the shroud, or a trigger safety as part of a complete new trigger mechanism. For that matter, although its two-stage military trigger was very good, replacement trigger mechanisms became almost a growth industry. So did more elegant bottom metal, and new bolt handles. The standard military action could be cut down and then welded back together to create a shorter (kurz) action suitable for smaller cartridges, or the standard could be opened up to accommodate longer or fatter ones. As for cartridges comparable to the military 8x57 JS, the K98 could handle just about any of them, and with a reasonable minimum of alteration.
The roughest military action salvaged from some battlefield on the Russian Front could be cleaned up by a good gunsmith, and with some polishing here, grinding there, a new trigger and bolt handle, and the application of some gunmaking skills, become a custom rifle that would command $50,000 at a Safari Club auction.
After the 98’s introduction and adoption by the German Army, the Mauser company expanded its operations and, for the first time, seriously entered the sporting-rifle market. From its factories at Oberndorf, it began exporting Model 98 actions, barreled actions, and entire rifles to London where, through its English agent, John Rigby & Co., it supplied such riflemakers as Holland & Holland, W. J. Jeffery, and Westley Richards. Rigby was instrumental in persuading Oberndorf to produce the famous magnum action, which made possible cartridges like the .416 Rigby and .505 Gibbs.
The last Oberndorf sporters were assembled from existing parts in 1946.
Some Oberndorf sporters are excellent rifles, others not so wonderful. The same is true of the London-vintage 98s, bearing names like Rigby, Jeffery, and Holland & Holland. Both German and American gunsmiths have done wonders with Mauser 98 actions, producing some sporting rifles that are nothing short of exquisite, and a few chapters hence we will look at some individual rifles that show exactly what can be done with the Mauser 98.
Square-bridge commercial Oberndorf Mauser sporting rifle, complete with express sights and the Mauser banner on the action ring. Such rifles are rising, inexorably, in value.
For many years, Oberndorf sporters were common, and relatively inexpensive. Altogether, it is estimated that the factory produced about 125,000 sporting rifles, in three main grades: Types A, B, and C. The Model A copied the style and features of a London-made “magazine rifle” sporter, as produced by John Rigby. The Model B had more European styling of stock, barrel, and features, while the Model C was the plainest and least expensive. How many individual actions and barreled actions were produced for export, or for sale to German gunmakers, is unknown, but they are included in the above estimate of 125,000. Within those model categories there were any number of variations possible, including different calibers, stock styles (such as the three-quarter length “African” style), and different sights.
Oberndorf actions were made in a wonderful array of styles and sizes. Smallest was the “K” or kurz action, and rifles were built on it chambered for the .250-3000 and similar deer and small-game cartridges. The standard action was suitable for the 8x57 JS or .30-06, and magnum actions for such as the .416 Rigby. Some were military style with a round bridge, others had square bridges, or even a double-square bridge (both bridge and receiver ring with a flat plateau for scope-mount bases). The early German style for mounting scopes followed that of Austria or Czechoslovakia. A detachable mount was preferred, usually with some variation of a claw mount, and normal practice was to carry the scope in a leather pouch and only attach it to the rifle when needed. Often, these mounts had tunnels through which the iron sights could be seen with the scope in place. For this reason, as well as to allow clearance for the safety and the bolt handles, mounts were customarily quite high by American standards—sometimes absurdly so. Curiously, unnecessarily high scope mounts are still the German custom, and you have to fight them tooth and nail to get rings that place the scope as low over the action as the bolt handle will allow.
The Mauser banner today.
Today, Oberndorf sporters in fine condition command prices from collectors comparable to the rarer original military rifles. Not extortionate, but not cheap, and no one in his right mind would buy one today, strip it down for the action, and rebuild it into a custom rifle. Nor would a collector have scope mounts installed if they were not there already. As for using one for its original purpose, in its original condition, that is certainly possible. None would be considered suitable for shooting beyond 250 yards or so with open sights, but many of them so equipped would make very good stalking or still-hunting rifles. They carry well, feel good in the hands, and mount quickly, and fulfill in many ways my criteria for a good hunting rifle.
The last Oberndorf sporters were put together from existing parts in 1946, under French authority, and that was the last of the K98 Oberndorf sporters. The Mauser name continued in existence, under different owners, for the next seventy-five years. In 2000, it was acquired by Michael Lüke, owner of Blaser in Germany, where it now resides with its own plant in the Blaser complex at Isny im Allgäu. During those seventy-plus years, the company made several different types of hunting and tactical rifles, but never a 98. Even as the prices of original Oberndorf actions skyrocketed, during the height of the custom-rifle boom from the 1970s to 2010, Mauser stubbornly refused to manufacture 98s, even though a 98 action with the genuine Mauser banner on it would find a ready market, competing with such 98-clone actions as those produced by Granite Mountain and others. There was one abortive attempt to make a “made by Mauser” 98 in 2008, using a magnum action produced by Prechtl, a small company in Germany. But, priced at $40,000, it was not surprising that few were made.
When Michael Lüke acquired the John Rigby name in 2011, rescuing it from varying degrees of American fast-buck fraud and moving it back to London, there arose a demand for original Mauser actions on which to once again build genuine John Rigby magazine rifles. Apparently, that was enough of a spur to cause the Mauser company to return to building the 98, both for Rigby’s use and their own. In 2015, the company began producing magnum actions, and followed this up two years later with the first Mauser-made standard Mauser 98 sporters in seventy years. The first ones arrived in America in 2017, while in London, John Rigby & Co. was busy producing stalking rifles like the ones they had made a century before. These rifles are not inexpensive, by any means, but they are worth many second looks.
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A modern (2017) Mauser sporting rifle, manufactured at Isny im Allgäu. The quality more than matches those produced at Oberndorf. This one is chambered, fittingly, in 8x57 JS.
The Haenel-Mannlicher New Model.
