Fox Sterlingworth shotguns are regarded as the best of all the economy-grade American side-by-sides.
The first time I read about a Fox Sterlingworth shotgun was in the pages of Galen Winter’s book The Best of the Major. It made an impression, and when I spotted the worn 16-gauge shotgun featured here on the used-gun rack of my favorite local gunshop, I knew immediately it was coming home with me.
A.H. Fox began making fine shotguns in the very early 1900s, touting them as the best side-by-side guns in the world. While they didn’t legitimately compete with the finest English guns, they were indeed some of the nicest—and most reliable—ever made in America.
Early versions were called “graded” guns, as in A Grade, B Grade, and C Grade. This referred to the quality and quantity of engraving, the quality of the wood, and so forth. In 1910 Fox introduced the Sterlingworth for economy-minded shooters. These guns featured basically the same action and barrels as all the upper-crust Fox guns but had only a minimalist border engraved and were fitted with standard-grade walnut stocks. They had less-costly extractors rather than ejectors, although ejectors were available for a substantial additional price.
Early Sterlingworths featured a black grip cap. Later, after Savage acquired the Fox company around 1930, the grip cap was abandoned. Several different versions eventually wore the Sterlingworth label, but most commonly, barrels were available in 26-, 28-, and 30-inch lengths, in 12, 20, and 16 gauges. Typically, they were choked in some combination of Full, Modified, or Cylinder.
Sterlingworths are regarded today by many experts to be the best of all the “economy” American side-by-sides.
Mechanicals
Featuring a box lock with internal hammers, Fox’s action is known for reliability. Action lockup is achieved via a rotary fastener activated by a top lever.
When the action is opened, the one-piece extractor is cammed rearward and draws any shotshells in the chambers—whether fired or fresh—about a quarter-inch out. Spent hulls may be plucked out and pocketed—one reason some avid shotgunners actually preferred the extractor over ejectors.
Thumbing the top lever to the right unlocks the action and mechanically moves the tang safety to the “Safe” position. As the action is opened, the dual internal hammers are cocked.
The Sterlingworth has a trigger for each barrel. The front trigger fires the right barrel; the rear trigger fires the left barrel.
Being an economy-grade side-by-side, the Sterlingworth has a simple tension latch to retain the forearm in place. To its credit, the latch comprises a roller-equipped plunger and coil spring and is arguably the best of its type.
Provenance
Dating 16-gauge Sterlingworths is problematic, but according to my research, my gun was manufactured in 1935. It has 26-inch barrels, and the pistol grip is the cheaper-looking late type without the grip cap. The finish is mostly gone and the gun has extensive signs of hard use, but it still locks up tight and fires with absolute reliability. Mechanically, it appears to be perfect.
As witnessed by the small circles of erosion around both firing pin holes in the standing breech, I can tell it has been fired a lot. The exterior has areas of significant rust, well past the freckling and pitting stages and into the scaling stage; however, the polished bores glow beautifully, without a spec of corrosion, indicating that however hard the previous owner or owners may have worked the gun in the field, they kept the bores clean and well oiled.
Rangetime
With just a trace of trepidation, I fired the Sterlingworth the first time with a box of Browning 16-gauge target loads. It digested the shotshells without hiccup, handled so naturally, and was so pleasant to fire that I couldn’t stop shooting it.
According to informal patterning on a snow bank, both barrels put shot clouds directly atop point of aim. The right barrel appears to have an IC or Skeet type of choke; the left barrel patterns like a Modified choke. It’s perfect for fast-moving upland game in tight cover. The gun’s stock has 2.75 inches of drop and about 0.20 inch of cast. American guns of this era were intended for all-around use on game, and the bit more drop in the stock helps center the pattern on the point of aim—an advantage for ducks dropping in on decoys.
In addition to placing shot clouds right where I looked, the shotgun mounted smoothly, balanced nicely, and had a surprisingly responsive swing. Trigger pull was beautifully crisp, and as a result the pull weight feels lighter than it is. By my Lyman digital trigger gauge, the front trigger breaks at 4 pounds, 14 ounces and the rear at 5 pounds, 4 ounces.
Weighing 6 pounds, 5 ounces, the gun carries beautifully even for long treks through upland country, yet by virtue of its 16-gauge bores, it punches above its weight class.
I don’t know that I’d want to fire a lot of full-octane high-brass 16-gauge shotshells through this svelte Fox Sterlingworth, but a few over the course of an afternoon pursuing chukars would be just fine. This gun offers solid, reliable performance and a feel and liveliness that far surpasses expectations. It is an incredible value, given its low cost, and is arguably the best value in vintage American side-by-sides.
Fox Sterlingworth Shotgun
- Type: Side-by-side
- Gauge: 16
- Cartridge Capacity: 2
- Barrels: 26 in.
- Overall Length: 42.25 in.
- Weight, Empty: 6.3 lbs.
- Stock: Walnut
- Length of Pull: 14.25 in. (to front trigger)
- Finish: Blued barrels and action, oil-finished wood
- Sights: Bead front
- Safety: Two-position, automatic
- Trigger: Front: 4.88-lb. pull; rear: 5.25-lb. pull (as tested)
- Manufacturer: Savage Arms Corp., savagearms.com
Categories
Mauser HSC Super 380
78th (Highlanders) Regiment of Foot (The Ross-shire Buffs): Raised in Scotland in 1793 by Francis Humberston Mackenzie. It fought in the French Revolutionary Wars, the Second Maratha War (Battle of Assaye), the Napoleonic Wars, the Anglo-Persian War, and the Sepoy Mutiny of 1857 (earning in that fight 8 Victoria Crosses).
It was amalgamated with the 72nd Seaforth (Highland) Regiment in 1881 to form the 2nd Battalion, Seaforth Highlanders.
“I asked for a mission and for my sins, they gave me one.”
Capt. Benjamin L. Willard
(Played by Martin Sheen) Apocalypse Now
“I asked for a YouTube channel and for my sins, they gave me one.”
Brent T. Wheat, Editor
(Played by Brent T. Wheat) GUNS Magazine
With apologies to Joseph Conrad, I’ve been to the heart of darkness, and his novel barely captures its essence. In my case, it wasn’t a jungle river in Vietnam or even the 19th-century hellscape of the Congo Free State — it was far, far worse.
Specifically, my journey into madness and hot hors d’oeuvres was the recent firearms video awards in Las Vegas. I won’t use the official name of this program since it might be trademarked, but mostly I’m hoping against hope the organizers won’t see this story if I don’t mention the title.
Not that it matters much — I’m pretty sure I’ll never receive another invitation, and if I do happen to win an award, it will undoubtedly feature a scene reminiscent of the movie Carrie.
If you don’t remember this 1976 gorefest, a group of teens play a horrible practical joke on a bullied girl by showering her with a bucket of pig blood just as she is crowned prom queen.
In the movie, Carrie uses her supernatural powers to kill all her antagonists in creative and gruesome ways. In my award show appearance, I can imagine the pig blood shower but at best, my telekinetic powers are limited to severe scowling so it wouldn’t have the same impact. I’ll just turn down any future award show invites.
Setting the Scene
A bit unexpectedly, it was right before the holidays when several of us associated with GUNS and FMG Publications were nominated for awards. This was a head-scratcher because, while we have a robust presence on YouTube, our audience tends to skew quite a bit older and — I believe — more experienced and discerning than the target audience of the awards.
In fact, an in-depth review of the FMG YouTube channel found only three instances of FMG onscreen “talent” using the word “Dude,” and two of those videos were referring to inexperienced horse riders.
Mostly I knew my chances were minimal after declaring during a podcast episode that I embraced the same sentiment as one of my heroes, William T. Sherman, when asked about his interest in becoming President. He famously declared, “If nominated I will not run, if elected I will not serve.”
To no one’s surprise I didn’t win. However, I was asked to accept an award for somebody who did but had a scheduling conflict. I was flattered being asked and quickly agreed. After a few dozen phone calls, a series of tantrums and a severe bout of exasperation, I managed to change my schedule to attend the award ceremony. This only required a series of flights across the globe but I did make it to Las Vegas on the day of the show.
That afternoon I met with the producers of the event and walked through my role. Essentially, after the winner was named I would leave my seat, walk onstage, offer a short message and sit down. Easy-peasy, and I had just enough stage fright to make sure I was focused and ready. However, there was one big mountain to overcome before the actual awards show — the pre-show reception.
Smile!
The whole production was done up like any other major awards show. There was a red carpet to walk — complete with photographers and TV cameras — an open bar and a platoon of tuxedo-clad staffers ready to fulfill all your urgent appetizer needs.
I walked past the velvet rope outfitted in my dressiest sport coat, tie and slacks. I wasn’t wearing a tuxedo because the cheap tux I had purchased online turned out to use Chinese sizing and the jacket wouldn’t even admit my arm, let alone both of them. Imagine trying to stuff 50 lbs. of meat into a standard sausage link casing and you get the idea.
After watching the YouTube Influencer just ahead of me hamming it up for the cameras on the red carpet — flanked by what appeared to be two professional Las Vegas “entertainers” falling out of dresses smaller than a standard sugar packet — I ducked out of the red carpet queue and skulked into the party.
The pre-party was both interesting and distressing. I saw many folks I knew and had a number of good conversations, a libation or two and sampled a variety of finger food.
Mostly, my circle of acquaintances participated in a round-robin exchange poking fun at our fellow attendees. Aside from the prevalent tactical beards and neck tattoos, several VIPs were wearing camouflage tuxedos.
This wasn’t outlandish; what drew our scorn was the fact two Ultra Dudes were wearing tourniquets flamboyantly clipped to their Digital Camo cummerbund.
I can only hope to someday become as tactically suave as these uber-men.
Fortunately, after much backslapping and loving profanities, the festival of humble-bragging ended a couple of years later and we all made our way into the opulent theatre for the show.
The Big Moment
The awards ceremony was professionally done and certainly as glamorous as the Oscars or Emmies. I found a seat in the first few rows near an aisle (for quick access to the stage) and sat back. My nerves began to rise as I pondered what to say.
Should I open with a joke? Every joke I came up with was actually a backhanded slap at prototypical gun influencers, so I decided that wasn’t the best course of action.
After all, the audience might become incensed and throw their tourniquets at me, so I decided a straightforward “thank you” would serve.
Things went along swimmingly until it was the time for “my” category. As they played short video highlights of the nominees, I squirmed in my seat and prepared to make my way to the stage.
Suddenly, the moment was at hand! They named the winner and played a short video he had provided. The end of the video was my cue to rise, make my way to the stage and physically accept the trophy on behalf of the winner. And then …
They immediately went on to the next award category.
My cameo had been completely erased. I was devastated.
The Reckoning
It wasn’t that I didn’t get my 30 seconds onstage — it was the fact I had been forced to move heaven and earth to get to the stupid show in the first place, all for nothing.
I had gotten up at 2:30 a.m. to make my first flight. At the airport I tripped on the escalator and started an avalanche, collecting several abrasions and fellow travelers in the process.
At one point I’m fairly sure I had a layover in North Korea. Or, it might have been Punta Gorda, but regardless, it was one of my most dreadful travel days ever — and for no purpose.
The award organizers did “fall on their sword” in response to my extraordinarily snarky email afterward. This might have been a reaction to my offhand mention that several of their major sponsors were personal friends and I would make it my life’s mission to lobby for them to cut all funding for the show. Otherwise I held no grudge.
The organizers claimed I was left out purely as an oversight, the kind of thing that happens during live shows.
Many of my friends believe it was because the category presenter was a competitor of GUNS. Perhaps they didn’t like the idea of introducing me? Whatever. If the situation were reverse, I would have graciously introduced them and not even discussed their rumored heroin habit or possible connections to organized crime.
But there are no hard feelings. Well, maybe there are just a shade over 1,300 words of hard feelings …
Categories
A lot of money laying there!
Nah the deer just dropped dead because it was his time. Come on gang, talk about click bait! Grumpy