suppose you want to see them too, Miss Rebecca?’
‘Yes please, if it isn’t too much bother,’ she replied.
‘Don’t be silly, Rebecca. It’s never too much trouble for Spencer, doing something for us. He’d do anything for us. He loves us, don’t you, Spencer?’
‘That I do, Miss Sarah.’ He got to his feet with a weary sigh and crossed the office to his key-board, where he selected a bunch of small keys. ‘Come along, then.’
Sarah gave a small skip of excitement as she followed the butler back through to the main hallway. Rebecca trailed behind, keeping a watch in case someone came along and saw them. Although it would only matter if Mama saw them, and as Sarah had said, she was unlikely to leave her room until dinner time.
Spencer unlocked the cabinet and reverentially took out the mahogany box. ‘Mr Winton bought this as a display piece,’ he said. ‘In the last century, owning a set of duelling pistols was a kind of gentleman’s status symbol. I don’t think they have ever been fired. The pistols and their case are really just a decorative item.’
‘But could they be fired?’ Sarah asked.
‘Certainly. They are fully functioning pistols. Let’s take them somewhere we can lay them out and I’ll show you all the pieces.’ Spencer led the way back towards the servants’ wing, and into the servants’ dining hall. It was deserted. He closed the door behind them and laid the box on the table. He seemed almost as excited as Sarah was by the thought of taking them out of the box. Rebecca watched as he removed first the two pistols, then a rod, a brush, a flask and a small box, and some other items. He checked the mechanism of one pistol then handed it to Sarah to hold, before doing the same with the other, which he handed to Rebecca.
‘They’re unloaded, so they’re perfectly safe,’ he said. Nevertheless she felt her heart pound as she turned the pistol over in her hands. This was a weapon capable of killing a man at a distance. It was heavy, and felt unbalanced, as though it would be an effort to hold it pointing straight. The dark wooden stock was set with engraved silver plates and studded with rubies, and the mechanism was made of shiny brass.
‘What are all these other things?’ Sarah asked, indicating the items Spencer had removed from the box.
‘The ramrod, cleaning brush, shot, and the gunpowder,’ he replied, indicating each item. ‘And tools for maintaining the pistols.’
‘Real gunpowder?’ Rebecca gasped.
Spencer opened the flask. ‘Yes, there is some in there. The set is complete, in readiness for a duel. The two pistols would be primed and loaded by the duellists’ seconds, men who’d been chosen to ensure the duel was carried out fairly. The gentlemen would then take a pistol each, stand back to back and take an agreed number of paces away from each other before turning and firing. The paces would be counted out loud by the seconds.’
‘It’s barbaric.’ Rebecca felt slightly sick at the idea of two men, men such as her father, wanting to shoot and kill another man just to settle a point of honour. She glanced at Sarah. The other girl’s face was flushed, her eyes bright with excitement.
‘Can you imagine having two men fight a duel over you, Rebecca? Wouldn’t that be the ultimate declaration of love? Suppose, for example, a gentleman fell in love with you, but you are promised to Charles de Witt so he challenged the other man to a duel! Wouldn’t that be thrilling? I should simply adore it if men fought to the death over me!’
‘Ah no, Miss Sarah. Duels are rarely fought to the death. Often the duellists will purposefully miss their targets. The point is to prove you were prepared to put yourself in danger for the sake of your honour.’ Spencer smiled indulgently at the girls.
‘But sometimes people would be shot?’ asked Rebecca. She put her pistol back into the box.
‘Yes, sometimes, and occasionally a duel would result in a death. Thankfully duels are rare nowadays. If a man is killed in a duel then his opponent is deemed guilty of murder and should be tried accordingly. Although I must admit, very often if the duel is considered to have been fought fairly, he will be let off lightly.’ Spencer held out his hand to take the second pistol from Sarah, but she did not pass it back.
‘I would very much like to learn how to prime it,’ she said quietly.
‘Sarah! We mustn’t load them! It mightn’t be safe!’ Rebecca was horrified. It was bad enough holding a dangerous weapon but if it was actually loaded… She had heard Papa read out newspaper reports of pistols that had misfired and injured their owners.
‘It would be perfectly safe, Miss Rebecca,’ Spencer said. ‘Duelling pistols are the most reliable flintlocks there are. And I assure you I know how to prime it safely.’
‘Have you acted as a second, perhaps, in a duel?’ Sarah asked.
‘No. But I have not always been a butler. As you know, I was previously in the army. I fought at Waterloo and have a medal to show for it.’ Spencer pulled himself upright as though standing to attention in front of a superior officer. ‘Therefore I am well acquainted with weapons such as these, although it has been a long time since I handled one.’
‘So will you show us?’ Sarah pleaded.
Spencer regarded her for a moment, then nodded. ‘Very well. You may watch but don’t touch anything.’ He picked up one of the pistols and twisted the cock on the top, which held the flint. ‘There, that is in the half-cocked safety position, which means it can’t accidentally fire. Now it is safe for me to prime and load it.’
Next, he opened the little flask and measured out a small amount of gunpowder, which he tipped into the muzzle end of the pistol. He added a ball of lead shot encased in paper from the little box, and pushed the whole lot down the pistol with the ramrod. ‘The gun is now loaded but not primed,’ he told the girls. ‘It is still safe.’
He then opened the flash pan lid on the top of the pistol and tipped a little more gunpowder onto the pan, before closing the lid. ‘And now it is primed. But it still cannot fire in this half-cocked position. The cock must be fully back in order for the trigger to work. If fired, the trigger releases the cock, which causes the flint to strike the frizzen – look, this piece here. That causes a spark, which ignites the gunpowder in the flash pan. The flash passes through a hole into the barrel, igniting the main gunpowder and thus discharging the gun.’ He looked at the two girls as though to see if they had followed all this.
Rebecca was not sure she understood how the mechanism worked, but she knew she’d seen enough. ‘Thank you, Spencer, that was most informative. I think perhaps you ought to unload the weapon now, and we should put it all away.’
‘No, Rebecca, don’t be a spoilsport. I think we should all go outside and Spencer should fire the gun. It doesn’t look as though it is possible to get the shot and all the gunpowder out unless the pistol is actually fired. Isn’t that right, Spencer?’ Sarah stared at the butler, and Rebecca thought she saw her wink.
‘Well, the shot should come out if you tip the gun upside down, and the flash pan is easy enough to empty. But you are right, not all the gunpowder can be extracted from the combustion chamber. I do not think Mr Winton would be very happy if I fired his gun, however.’
‘Mr Winton isn’t here so won’t ever need to know. Come on, Spencer, look, the rain has eased off so we could go outside and fire it? Please? Dearest Spencer, I would so
