This left-handed rapier is modelled on an original dated to the early 1600s and housed in the Wallace Collection. Chris's reproduction is highly faithful to the original, except for making it left-handed and sized for the client's hand, as well as adding downturned quillons to assist in trapping blades.
The original rapier: A574 at the Wallace Collection. Image courtesy of the Wallace Collection.
The guard provides comprehensive cover in the form of three rings at the front, including a closed port, and a four-bar counterguard. While the bars are thin, they are sturdy, hand-forged and heat-treated from high-carbon steel. The construction features a historical wedge fit at the shoulder, similar to extant swords Chris has observed at the Royal Amouries and the Wallace Collection.
This sword is a formidable all-rounder, working well in opposition yet moving nimbly around the tip. Its movement is as elegant as its aspect, and it is an ideal partner for technical rapier study.
Please see our pricing structure for what a similar sword would cost.
∴ Specs ∴
Total length: 120cm
Blade length: 107cm
Blade width at shoulder: 2.3cm
Blade stock: 8mm
Quillon span: 23cm
Grip length: 7cm
Grip and pommel: 11.5cm
Grip to guard space: 6cm
Point of balance: 14cm
Weight: 1085g
Left-handed
∴ Notes ∴
The hand-forged and heat-treated guard is blackened to a matte finish. The guard features an elongated ecusson and three rings with flattened, pointed detailing to the centres.
The quillons are downturned, flaring to conical knobs at the terminals. The closed port features a piercework pattern of circles. The four-bar counterguard sweeps up to join the knuckle guard, which features hand-carved detailing to the terminus.
The oviform pommel is blackened and finished with a faceted steel peening block.
The oak grip is wrapped in braided steel wire, finished top top and bottom with Turk's head knots.
The blade features one central fuller to a third of its length.
∴ Gallery ∴
∴ A Centred Stance∴
Circles within circles, you muse to yourself as you trace your way through the topiary maze. It’s not the biggest maze you’ve seen, nor the most challenging, but it’s good to be alone, letting the hubbub of the party fade into the distance.
The atmosphere in the orangery was getting all too close, especially given the way the Marquis and his brothers touched their hands to their hilts as you entered. They have not forgotten your father’s rash words, and it doesn’t look like they’re going to let you forget either.
A dead end. Tutting to yourself, you double back slightly, taking the path to your left.
A sudden rustling from behind you. You turn, and see nothing. With a gulp, you quicken your pace and continue walking the pattern of concentric circles. It was probably a wood pigeon, or one of the Marquess’s insufferable peacocks.
Again, a sussurration. Your heart in your mouth now, you slip through the next break in the hedge, ready to retrace your steps and leave the leafy labyrinth, only to arrive at the maze’s centre. A ring of white gravel with a tacky brass sun dial on a stone plinth. You grimace.
Then the unmistakable sound of a sword being unsheathed. Then another. And a third. This is the reckoning you sought to avoid, and here you are pinned with nowhere to hide. Nothing but foliage to protect you.
And then you look to your own sword: to the circles within circles of thick, black bars that form the hilt, stark against a steely grip. This is your protection. This is your sure centre.
With a deep breath you rise onto the balls of your feet, feeling your balance, knowing your place. Time slows to a familiar place. You draw your sword. There is only one way out.