A combination of two inspirations, this sidesword was made for a client who wanted to train with a Wallace Collection A535 inspired sword like our
Sauvage sword, but wished for it to reflect the aesthetic of his previous commission, Rascal. The striking result keeps the blade presence and slow fluidity of the Sauvage, while customising the look with a custom-sized copper-wrapped spiral-carved grip, and copper detailing to the filled ports and ovoid pommel. The hand-engraved copper bird motif is a reference to the heraldic arms of the client's home county of Sussex. Please see our pricing structure for an idea of what a similar sword would cost.
∴ Specs ∴
Total length: 107cm
Blade length: 91cm
Blade width at base: 3.5cm
Grip length: 7.5cm
Grip and pommel: 14cm
Point of Balance: 11cm
Quillon span: 23.5cm
Weight: 1530g
Blunt edges
Rounded tip
Fencing flex
∴ Notes ∴
The hand-forged, heat-treated guard is oil blackened to a matte finish. The front port is filled, and pierced with circles overlaid with a hand-engraved copper bird motif. The central section of the counterguard is likewise filled and pierced. The S-shaped quillons swell into knobs at the terminals – a motif which is repeated at the centre of each ring. The oval grip is made from oak, carved into a spiralling shapre, and then wrapped in steel and copper twisted wire, finished with Turk's head knots at the top and bottom. The oil blackened pommel takes the form of an ovoid, and is finished with a copper florette and a rounded nut.
∴ Gallery ∴
∴ A Bird on the Wing∴
You've been pacing for what seems like an hour now, back and forth across the creaking floorboards, no doubt driving the innkeeper to hysteria. But how can you rest with the duel looming over you?
You groan and sink into a battered armchair with your head in your hands. It ought to be a straightforward affair - another dalliance, another wronged brother or fiance, another ritual duel to brush it all under the carpet, then slinking away to another new city. But you've seen this gentleman fight - and you've a feeling he won't settle for first blood.
You reach for a rag and your already well-polished sword, still bristling with nervous energy. Your fingertips brush the copper bird perched in the top ring of the guard. The heraldic guardian of your family, a mythical footless martlet who can never roost, and thus flies day and night. As you touch it, you hope for something of its airborne grace, its ceaseless effort.
Then your hand travels downward, tracing the deep fuller of the blade, finding the familiar figures carved therein. "Scoundrel", your fingers read. Even in your heightened state you cannot repress a smirk. There is power in this totem, too. Martlet you may be, cast out for your crimes with nowhere to roost - but if you must strive on, you will do so with style.
You rise to your feet, sweeping the broad blade up in a salute to nobody in particular, and reach for your feathered hat. Oh yes, you mean to cause a scandal.