Schurmann wrote:
A lot.
But, hell, what do I know? I owned a nice Dixie Gun Works “finish-at-home” Pennsylvania flintlock rifle, with the Roman stock, a 36-inch browned barrel, and all the German silver work to polish, the lock to fit, and work, chambered in 45-caliber, having used a 435-ball and a 015 patch, over 65 grains of FFFg powder (Pyrodex was not there yet), a flash pan full of FFFFg powder, ignited by a nice small English flint, for over 10 years. And yes, it was ‘blooded’.
“... owned a nice Dixie Gun Works “finish-at-home” Pennsylvania flintlock ... 45-caliber, ... 435-ball and a 015 patch, over 65 grains of FFFg powder (Pyrodex was not there yet), a flash pan full of FFFFg powder, ignited by a nice small English flint, for over 10 years. And yes, it was ‘blooded’.”
Some things never change, and for that proper pupils of the art are properly grateful. Blooding is still the initiation rite for any personal arm, as it was in the 1770s.
Approximately half way through my military career of 29 years, I took up with a Continental Army regiment manned by volunteer reenactors and formally chartered by the US Bicentennial Commission, rising through the ranks to archivist, training officer, and (in the fullness of time) second in command. Spent the last half of my military career blending 18th century and 20th century particularities. Comparing the nuts, bolts, and daily routines lent more than a few insights.
The step-by-step sequence I posted refers to military use of the flintlock musket, and that use ONLY.
Safe employment of any flintlock suggests that the main charge be loaded into the barrel first, then wadding and ball (or patch and ball as required for rifles). Only then should the pan be primed, and a finer granulation of black powder is preferred; usually, it ignites more easily, though it does produce more solid residue (fouling) than coarser granulations, which is why they are preferred for the main charge. Saving the priming step for last reduces the risk but does not negate it entirely; a swung flint will still strike sparks from the frizzen, and I have watched flintlocks go off when sparks bounced around an empty pan, found their way into the vent, and touched off the main charge.
Loading from both flasks can be tolerated in peaceful venues, and indeed the footsoldier of experience in America’s Continental Army carried a horn of loose powder, and a priming flask (or smaller horn) for priming powder, if he could afford such. Why? Because any troop could run dry of pre-made cartridges in the heat of action. Too, paper cartridges are not that sturdy: they can get dropped, crushed or broken, or wetted. Very bad for one’s prospects.
But it is very dangerous business, working with flasks or horns around any muzzle loader; few such containers seal tightly, and spilled granules inevitably become scattered about the arm and the person. Risks rise higher with the flintlock, which throws white-hot sparks in every direction each time the cock swings to scrape flint against frizzen.
Muzzle loaded side-by side shotguns (termed “fowling pieces” back in the day) pose additional risks: after reloading the first barrel, the shooter may have a powder flask in the support hand when the quarry breaks cover, and then it’s a nearly irresistible reflex to shoulder the arm and give fire, still clutching the flask in that hand. Sparks can fly forward and ignite spilled powder granules, which then flash sufficient flame about to touch off the full flask. More than one antiquarian bird hunter has come to grief in this manner.
It was well that Mr Smith’s flintlock experience predated Pyrodex: that modern “replica propellant” won’t ignite unless fired by a percussion cap. Our Continental Army reenacting regiment tried more than once; the result was a lot of hissing, and smoke, and perhaps once or twice an embarrassing little “bloop” of a report that sounded all hollow.