According to something I picked up lately, the basic design of cavalry sabers (variously spelled sabre) has not changed significantly since the late 16th Century when a Prussian nobleman designed the basis for what was still being used well into the twentieth century. The blade is about 36" long, gracefully but lightly curved, and is quite slow to move and handle, especially one handed from the back of a horse. Cavalry (caballo, cavallo, cheval, etc.) means horse soldiers, so that's the kind of kid it was designed to serve. It is longer than a naval or pirate cutlass, long enough for a full body lunge, and heavy enough to make a well placed sweeping blow either severely disabling or deadly if it is not successfully parried. I seem to recall stories of fellows having to pause in order to unwedge (is there such a word, Jake?) the blade from another fellows head.
The one in these pictures was given to me by an old friend and student, Jed Lewis. Because it came from Jed, because I knew that it must have been a sacrifice for him to get it, and because it was such a faithful copy of the 1860 US Cavalry Sabre, I have cherished it for many years now. Last year I finally succeeded in getting a pretty decent cutting edge on it. The brass basket weave hand guard lends itself pretty well to being polished. The wire wrap is holding down a padding on the grip which is definitely NOT leather, but if it were, I would be unwilling to get it out and play or work with it.
Not only does my body not produce insulin, it also does not produce testosterone, adrenaline, and something else that won't come to mind right now. Probably it's the thing that let's you remember the last word. Anyway, my muscle tone is almost non-existent, even when I've done lots of yard work or cleaned up the church for hours. So I started working with the saber in the back yard lately. I think it's actually helping. I bought a special pair of soft leather gloves to go with it, because that wire wrap will remove layers of skin with surprising ease.
I do figure eights with it, whirls around my head, level slashes to right and left, and downward slashes, also to right and left. I do thrusts and full body lunges. They're harder to do than with the straight bladed foil from college days. I trade off hands regularly so that the left hand will not be weak and useless and so there will be more balance to my rickety old frame. Having taken some fencing as a Freshman in college (foil, not epee' or sabre) I will toss in some footwork with the blade work. As I describe this, I can tell that it's giving you the impression that it's about a 30 minute workout. Ha! If it were, I'd be a corpse with its arms lying separately by it on the ground. I can last about 5 to 8 minutes, every other day. And even that isn't exact. I just do it as well and as often as I can. But when I picked it up today, it felt lighter than it ever has. And believe me, this is not a light sword. Civil War troops didn't call it "Old Wrist Breaker" for nothing.
I am a greatly blessed defrocked History Teacher. I own a rifle chambered for a cartridge that was first produced in 1869, I have a 1918 Trench Knife replica from The Great War, I have two actual bayonets from WW I, I have a Confederate battle flag, a huge Soviet flag, and I have some knowledge of when, where, and how each of these artifacts have been used. That's hard to beat.
