An Assault at Arms: the Islington Tournament (1880)

How serious most of these efforts were is hard to say, but they, in turn, were one of the influences on the Assaults-at-Arms, displays of skill-at-arms performed as public entertainment. Originally conceived by the military as a way to exhibit fencing, horsemanship and athletics, civilian counterparts soon followed. Many of these events combined competition with showmanship; some were strictly competitive and others little more than farce.

(For a deeper look at the tradition of the Grand Tournaments and the Assaults-at-Arms, see A Grand Assault-at-Arms” Tournaments and Combative Exhibitions in Victorian England at the Electronic Journal of Martial Arts and Sciences.)

Yet, by the 19th century, fencing was becoming an endangered species in England. While romantic adventure novels, and the exploits of real explorer-swordsmen like Sir Richard Francis Burton captured the imagination, it did not fill fencing salles. As a pastime or sport, fencing had never had the same popularity as boxing, and was perceived by many Englishmen as “elitist” and “Frenchified”. With the sword’s prominence as the soldier’s sidearm swiftly being supplanted by the revolver, by the 1880s the future of the art of the sword looked rather grim.

In an effort to recapture the public’s fascination with swordplay, Captain Alfred Hutton and Egerton Castle, both devoted fencers and amateur historians, led a systematic study and reconstruction of combat with all the weapons of the Elizabethan arsenal – the elegant rapier, deadly sword and buckler, and the massive two-handed sword. In a world without the Internet, digital reproduction or inter-library loan, as men of means they had the resources and education to locate – and – read old fencing texts, and the martial training to begin interpreting them. Finding a sympathetic host in the enigmatic Edward Barton-Wright, whose Bartitsu Club would become the center of their efforts, these two men launched the revival of  “ancient swordplay” in England.  Throughout the waning decades of the 19th century, and into the early years of the 20th, their work found practical expression in classes, exhibitions, academic lectures and theatrical combat, for audiences as diverse as school children, soldiers and the Prince of Wales.

Alfred Hutton also had a practical – and political – motivation in drawing public attention to Elizabethan swordplay. Military instruction in swordsmanship had long been based on the French system, which Hutton found artificially academic, and ill-suited to fighting out of the salle against Berbers, Zulu and Indians, all of whom were well-versed in their own methods of sword and spear combat. Never a blushing violet, Hutton lobbied for a new system of swordplay, invigorated by traditional English backsword practice. In 1899 he demonstrated what such a system might look like, when he published Cold Steel, a curriculum for his own system of sabre fencing, combining the Italian sabre school with that of the English backsword. Not only did Cold Steel make use of 18th c English backsword, but Hutton also included lessons on the great stick, the dagger (or un-mounted bayonet) and defense against the same. The latter two subjects were not of his own devising, but rather were taken directly from the instructions of Achille Marozzo’s Opera Nova (1536).

When Hutton’s student, Capt. Cyrill Matthey, published The Complete Works of George Silver in 1899, he noted bitterly that “I suggest sword-fighting is not taught, and it ought to be.” His solution? A return to the practical, combative approach of George Silver, most especially his use of grips. Like his teacher, Matthey was calling for a radical reversion to a method of swordsmanship not seen in 150 years. Like Hutton, his appeals were not heeded.

Although Hutton and Matthey’s efforts to change British military swordsmanship failed, the entire matter was soon made irrelevant – the sword’s days on the battlefield were numbered in years, not decades. But it was their interest in the applicability of historical swordplay to practical, modern swordsmanship that brought Silver’s unpublished Brief Instructions Vpo My Paradoxes of Defence from obscurity into print, which in turn would become one of the first texts to be studied diligently by the second historical swordsmanship revival in the late 20th century.

A Lecture on Fencing - 1891

In 1892, Hutton published a slim volume of fight sequences with the two-handed sword, sword and buckler, rapier, rapier and dagger and smallsword, called Old Swordplay. His audience was clearly the theater, and while the sequences he describes show some relationship to the manuscripts they draw from, they lack the practical martiality of his sabre and stick instructions in Cold Steel. This was because the historical sequences served a very different purpose; to inform actors and directors as to the flavor of historical swordplay; not to turn them into historical swordsmen, per se. Here, Hutton and Castle had great success – until his death, Hutton would continue to stage fights on the London stage, and receive rave reviews for the realism of his fights; being amongst the first fight directors to insist upon correct weapons, armour and technique for the play’s setting. Although this may seem obvious or passe to modern readers, for London theater audiences of the 1890s, this was the first time that the great Tybalt -Romeo duel had rung to the clash of real rapiers and daggers, rather than flimsy foils.

Yet for all of their efforts and public acclaim, Hutton and Castle did not establish a tradition of historical swordsmanship that survived their own generation. Instead, their books and essays were largely forgotten until the second revival of ancient swordplay in the late 20th century. Today’s researchers now often view these early efforts with a cavalier or dismissive eye. In Ancient Swordplay: the Revival of Elizabethan Swordplay in Victorian England,  Tony Wolf, 19th c martial arts scholar, theatrical fight director, and reviver and instructor of the “lost” fighting art of Bartitsu, reexamines Hutton and Castle’s work, both through their own words and those of their enthusiasts, students and critics alike. Tony has unearthed a bevy of rare newspaper illustrations, photographs, play bills and bookplates, many of which can be found in the book’s gallery, and which help fill in the picture of the English revival, and its place in what came both before and after. Every student of historical European martial arts, especially those who believe they know what Castle, Hutton and their circle thought and taught will be in for more than one surprise:

• A tradition of Medieval fests and swordsmanship – some of very dubious derivation – had already become popular throughout Europe and Canada;
• Nearly a generation before Hutton and Castle, Maestro Gregorio Villaamil had already attempted to save La Verdadera Destreza from extinction by reconstructing earlier methods;
• Castle’s views on medieval fencing evolved considerably over the years, and the dismissal of “the rough, untutored swordsmanship” written by a 26 year old prodigy did not reflect those of the mature man;
• If Hutton and Castle had a true “heir” it was not an Englishman, but rather Maitre George Dubois, whose reconstruction of Gladiatorial combat prefigured the field of “Living Archaeology” by over 60 years, and whose syncretic system of modern rapier and dagger fencing would survive into the late 20th century;
• Although the Ancient Swordplay movement failed to survive its founders, they would have considered it to have served its purpose – the preservation of modern fencing.

But what this look into a world of top hats and rapiers best shows is that the modern view of the Victorian revivalists as earnest but misguided amateur scholars is both unfair, and a bit arrogant. Instead, they are revealed as the inventors of a systematic study and practice of lost fighting arts that has only been exceeded in recent years, worthy of being celebrated as the true pioneers in the field.

With Ancient Swordplay, we are very pleased to bring the old boys (and girls! wait until you read about the swordswoman-actress-suffragette-role-reverser Esme Beringer!) back into the limelight, and in the weeks to come we will be uploading a number of images and manuscripts that couldn’t make it into the book. Keep watching this space!

A late-medieval sword duel from a contemporary image.

n the last few months, I have had a chance to deepen my understanding of judicial-dueling jurisprudence, especially as it developed in Italy in the era of Fiore de’ Liberi. I will post a few of my findings here, hoping that they will be of interest to the students of the subject.

Let us start from a reliable period definition of what a duel was as commonly understood in the fourteenth century, and how it differed from other kinds of physical and violent ways in which to settle disputes. According to law-historian Marco Cavina, we are on solid ground when looking for this definition in the writings of fourteenth-century jurist Giovanni da Legnano, who authored an influential treatise on the subject in the period that interests us.[1] Entitled Tractatus de Bello, de Represaliis et de Duello, Giovanni’s treatise defines the duel as “a deliberate physical fight between two, for purification, glory or augmentation of hatred.”[2] The author then specifies that those for glory and augmentation of hatred[3] fall outside the scope of duels as commonly understood at the time, leaving the third specie (gratia purgationis) as the only fitting subject for the rest of his treatise.[4] Giovanni describes this type of duel as one by which a person accused of a misdeed can, lacking preponderant evidence, purge or purify himself of the accusation by proving his case through physical strength (viribus corporeis), and traces the roots of this practice to Lombard law.[5] The duel emerges as a legal proceeding of sorts, between an accuser and a defendant, to unfold through actions of physical strength, and following the dictates of centuries-old jurisprudence.

More specifically, a judicial duel of honor is a type of duel in which the initial offense is to the honor of the offended rather than to his body or property. Historians classify it as distinct from the older duel as an ordeal. Dueling as an ordeal was a sub-specie of the Germanic ordeal (Urteil) with which officials interpreted failure or success in a predetermined physical endeavor as representing God’s judgment in legal disputes that could not be adjudicated through factual evidence.[6] Besides pertaining to cases about personal property, liberty or physical injuries rather than honor, dueling as an ordeal also differed from the duel of honor in another important sense: the litigants in the former fought almost always through professional surrogates called pugiles, while in the latter the accuser and defendant were normally the ones also entering the field of

Giovanni da Legnano, the jurist who authored an influential text on dueling law in the 14th century.

arms.[7] Although scholars disagree about whether Giovanni da Legnano’s definition pertains to the duel of honor,[8] they concur that this form of preordained single combat gradually replaces dueling as an ordeal between the eleventh and the fourteenth centuries (as we will see later in more detail).[9]

Perhaps the earliest extant records of dueling to settle legal disputes are in the Lombard Edictum Rothari (AD 643), where it appears as a privilege of the higher class, the liberi. Between that time and the eleventh century, it remains an established juridical procedure in Italian common law for cases lacking material evidence, with the outcome (the judgment of God) having legal force. Dueling for honor comes into being and grows in importance when, between the eleventh and fourteenth centuries, the bellicose values of the feudal knightly class gradually harmonize with the ethos of the nascent urban nobility, which emphasizes honor. In particular, Cavina theorizes that the chivalric code, centering on the cult of the oaths of fealty and of the value of a word given, would become the glue that holds together the aristocratic class. Accordingly, by the mid-1300s the judicial duel for the point of honor is so ingrained in the mores of the Italian nobility that jurist Giovanni da Legnano begins treating is as an institution of natural right (ius naturale).

Meanwhile, theologians and moralists gradually reject the idea of dueling—with the violent death that often comes as a result of this practice—being compatible with biblical and Christian doctrine, although this happens slowly and not without significant exceptions. For instance, there is the fact that an appropriate missa pro duello functions as one of the opening rites before combat, that clerics known to have taken part in duels are at times still allowed to celebrate mass, and that even Thomas Aquinas condones dueling in the Summa Theologica. Even in spite of these exceptions, the attitude of theologians remains one of increasing intolerance for dueling. Finally, dueling becomes the target of increasingly-frequent papal attention in the sixteenth century, until the council of Trent (ending in 1563) makes it categorically illegal under canon law, thereby turning it into an underground activity.

Stay tuned for more information about this fascinating topic, including first-hand accounts of duels in the time in question!

The answer to the second question is a bit more complex, since it can be restated this way: how do I learn a physical discipline from a written work?

There are three components to take into consideration:

1 – The theory – Rapier fencing is, to be sure, a physical discipline–but it is a physical discipline that hinges on very precise theory. How many guards are there? How many hand-positions? How many lines of attack? How many types of attack? How many parries? How many voids? When do I use which? Etc. The good news is that Italian rapier treatises contain this theory, and there is a fair amount of consistency between authors. The not-so-good news is that this theory must be parsed from texts organized not as comprehensive training manuals, but as either treatises on the art of fencing (e.g., Capoferro) or as pithy syllabi on the main actions (e.g., Giganti). It is for this reason that in the introductory material to both books, I have included a rapier fencing primer on theory, which can serve as a basic template to be filled by the reader as he absorbs the information from the original author.

2 – The fundamentals – The fundamentals of rapier fencing apply to the way you stand and move, even before you face your opponent. These are how to stand in guard, how to advance and retreat without disordering your body, how to lunge powerfully and accurately and recover safely, how to perform various voids (such as the girata) without losing your balance, etc. The key for a historical fencer is not only to know how to perform these, but to also be consistent with the style of swordsmanship you are trying to learn. As trivial as it may sound, here is when the illustrations in the books have a great pedagogical value–if you know how to “read” them. In other words, you should know what you must pay attention to, and whether the illustration(s) agree with the text or with what you know about theory–in which case it is best to follow the text.

3 – Drilling the basic actions – Theory, if understood correctly, lays out a set of basic actions and counter-actions (or, simply “counters”) that make up the essence of Italian rapier fencing. These must be memorized, practiced slowly to perfection, and continually rehearsed, no matter how “old hat” they feel. For instance, theory teaches you that when the opponent gains your blade while in measure, you should perform either a cavazione or a feint by cavazione. A drill should consists in fencer A gaining fencer B’s sword while in measure; upon a command, fencer B should perform a cavazione while extending his arm, closely followed by the completion of the lunge and a hit with good opposition, and lastly by the recovery in guard. Then, after the right amount of repetitions (and switching roles), B can provide the counter in the form of either a contracavazione, a parry-riposte, a single-tempo counterthrust or a void. In general, these actions are the first to be described and illustrated in historical fencing texts, so you have the advantage to also see how they should look at the point in which you score the touch.

The goal here is not just to learn the fundamentals and the actions until your body knows them; it is to keep them fresh and in constant refinement for as long as you intend to fence within your lifetime. If you are used to just eyeball the fundamentals and then spend your practice session free-fencing, the best outcome may be improvement in your point-scoring, but not in your historical fencing. Using a rapier simulator to fence strip-mall modern epee is like using a Renaissance lute to strum a Joni Mitchell tune; you may strum really well, but you can’t call yourself a Renaissance lutenist.

One last piece of advice: when reading a historical rapier text for practical purposes, do not attempt to read it like some sort of Da Vinci Code. Obscure writing–both in the middle ages and Renaissance–was generally considered a liability. So go with the most obvious meaning, even though that takes some of the fun out of the process. And if in doubt, ask someone who knows via one of the many forums or, better yet, by attending a historical fencing venue such as WMAW, VISS and many others. (I have listed some of these resources in both my Giganti and Capoferro books.)

ast year, I penned an article for our website, “In Defense of Peter Von Danzig”, wherein I presented the case for retaining Master Peter’s name as the colloquial moniker for the Codex 44 A 8, a German fighting compendium preserved today in Rome. This manuscript is translated in my FAP title In Saint George’s Name. My reasoning was informed by the facts that a) this manuscript is the only one featuring that master’s work, b) that he was likely still living at the time of its creation, and c) that his is the final treatise in the compendium.

But perhaps there is one more reason to add in defense of this name…

I am often reminded of how repeated readings of a text that I “feeel I know well” can continue to reveal new insights. One such recent reading brought this home, and in a way I feel adds force – albeit with a bit of speculation – to the arguments I presented earlier.

Master Peter’s treatise is devoted exclusively to judicial combat in armour, and only on foot. But in a lesson on deflecting an enemy’s spear with your hand, he says:

Note: this refers to when you have a sword and he has a spear and he thrusts at you with the spear, intending to overreach you, and thrusts a long free thrust to your body. Take heed when he thrusts, and springing wisely and swiftly out from the spear thrust, grasp and throw him with the previously described wrestling, before he thrusts again. But if you have no weapon in your hands, then strike away with your empty hand as described in the mounted combat. [...] (emphasis mine)

This is an interesting passage. The master refers to the mounted combat – doubtless a commentary on Liechtenauer’s Roßfechten (Combat on Horse). However, no such commentary treatise appears under Danzig’s name here, nor is any known from any other compendium. Given this, it seems likely that he is referring to the mounted combat commentary appearing earlier in Codex 44 A 8. If so, it might indicate a hand in the compiling of this manuscript – an awareness of its other contents as he was drafting his own final chapter of it.

On its own, such a notion might easily be waved away as overreaching speculation. When added to the other elements I have put forth, it is ‘more grist for the mill’, and perhaps even an indication of an active hand on the part of Peter von Danzig in the creation of Codex 44 A 8 – The Von Danzig Fechtbuch.

http://www.bartitsu.org/index.php/2011/12/the-substance-of-style-a-review-of-the-martial-arts-action-in-sherlock-holmes-a-game-of-shadows/

and besides its fictionalized depictions, there is some big news in the bartitsu  and HES world. As many of you may know, Barton-Wright’s “Bartitsu Club” was a martial arts and physical culture studio which not only brought together the best of 19th century fitness and fighting arts, but served as a home for Alfred Hutton’s “Ancient Swordplay” circle – the first sustained effort at recreating the extinct martial arts of Europe. In his discussion of bartitsu on the Freelance website, Tony stated:

“Eventually, someone is going to bite the bullet and open a fully-fledged Edwardian-style martial arts and physical culture studio. “

We can say with absolutely assurety that when he made that statement, Tony had no idea that his interviewer, Freelance’s own president, Gregory Mele, would be the one biting that bullet, or that Tony himself would be coming along for the ride. And yet, not even a year later, we can proudly say that just such a studio is about to open its doors! Well, since Tony already scooped us once, why don’t we let him do so again:

A 5000 square foot Western martial arts and fitness training center is currently under construction on the border of Chicago’s Ravenswood and Buena Park neighbourhoods. Patterned after a circa 1900 physical culture studio, it features high timber ceiling, a hardwood floor and brick walls, which will be decorated with large historical prints featuring swordsmen and combat athletes in training.

The new gym will include my collection of antique physical culture apparatus, including Indian clubs, medicine balls, iron dumbbells, an 1880s rowing machine and wall-mounted weightlifting machine, pull-up bar and climbing ropes, forming a “gymuseum” for old-school physical culture training. Functional replicas of other classic training equipment and a Western martial arts store may be added in the future.

The complex will also include an upstairs library/meeting/lounge area reminiscent of a Victorian era private gentlemen’s club, with comfortable chairs and couches, a gallery of antique antagonistics images and books on all manner of Western martial arts and related topics. Basically, it will be an athletic club in the traditional sense, a place to socialise, relax and learn as well as to train.

Beginning in February, the school will be running multiple tracks in:

Historical fencing – Fiore de Liberi’s Armizare system, including two-handed sword, dagger and unarmed combat, as well as Renaissance-era rapier and Bolognese fencing
Fighting Fit – a CrossFit type exercise program geared towards martial arts/combat sports training
Modern self defence
19th century “antagonistics” – classical sabre, bowie knife, catch wrestling and both canonical and neo-Bartitsu

There will also be a full program of special-interest public seminars and intensive courses, starting with a Bartitsu seminar scheduled for January 22nd. The seminar will roll through immediately into a progressive, experimental course of 12 introductory Bartitsu classes over the following six weeks, between 6.30 and 8.00 pm each Tuesday and Thursday evening.

All going according to plan, the new school will have a web presence from early January.

(From: Art of Manliness)

Historical Swordsmanship and the Manly Arts are afoot in the Windy City!

When I reached the end I stood at bay. He drew no weapon, but he rushed at me and threw his long arms around me. He knew that his own game was up, and was only anxious to revenge himself upon me. We tottered together upon the brink of the fall. I have some knowledge, however, of baritsu, or the Japanese system of wrestling, which has more than once been very useful to me. I slipped through his grip, and he with a horrible scream kicked madly for a few seconds and clawed the air with both his hands. But for all his efforts he could not get his balance, and over he went. With my face over the brink I saw him fall for a long way. Then he struck a rock, bounced off, and splashed into the water.

Several years ago, director Guy Ritchie and actor Robert Downey, Jr. re-conceptualized the Great Detective as a Steampunk sleuth and man of action. Doyle fans have been divided on the interpretation, but one thing is certain, as martial artists themselves, Ritchie and Downey have given Holmes his fighting chops! Bartitsu, or “baritsu”, as Doyle penned it, gets screen time (seemingly faithfully) in the new Sherlock Holmes: A Game of Shadows, as can be seen in the teaser clip on YouTube .

We have yet to see the film, but rumor has it that the final confrontation between Holmes and the villainous Professor Moriarty is worth the price of admission. Of course, there is only one way to find out for certain…

One you’ve seen the Silver Screen depiction of “baritsu”, you may wish to find out more about the truth behind the fiction. In conjunction with the film’s American release this week, we are featuring Bartitsu: the Lost Martial Art of Sherlock Holmes, at 30% off of its regular price. A unique documentary relating the fascinating history, rediscovery and revival of Barton-Wright’s pioneering mixed martial art, this is a great present for martial artists, Holmes enthusiasts, or lovers of Victorian and Edwardian England.

Finally, if you are reading this blog, but somehow still don’t know what Bartitsu is, this interview with our colleague, Tony Wolf, ought to set things aright!

]]> http://freelanceacademypress.wordpress.com/2011/12/13/the-game-is-afoot-bartitsu-alive-and-well-in-new-sherlock-holmes-a-game-of-shadows/feed/ 0 freelanceacademypress Alphabet - A Snapshot of the FAP Blog http://freelanceacademypress.wordpress.com/2011/11/21/a-vist-from-fiore-or-twas-the-night-before-my-judicial-duelintroducing-the-armizare-vade-mecum/ http://freelanceacademypress.wordpress.com/2011/11/21/a-vist-from-fiore-or-twas-the-night-before-my-judicial-duelintroducing-the-armizare-vade-mecum/#comments Tue, 22 Nov 2011 00:54:25 +0000 The Freelancer http://freelanceacademypress.wordpress.com/?p=903 ]]> tores are abuzz with special “Black Friday” sales and extended hours. No doubt, the sun will barely have dawned this Friday before the “Cyber Monday” announcements begin. Amidst all of the flurry and hullabaloo of these special sales, we also can’t help but note that “Black” and “Cyber” seem more like appellations for the release of a new Matrix movie than they do the start of the Christmas season…

Nevertheless, the Christmas season is officially here. So, we decided to bring you a little something special to inaugurate the holiday season.

Sometimes called “the most well-known verse ever penned by an American”, the poem “A Visit from St. Nicholas”, also known from its first line as “‘Twas the Night Before Christmas”, was first published anonymously in 1823 and generally attributed to Clement Clarke Moore. Written far from the land of his birth, it forever blended the Dutch images of St. Nicholas and the British Father Christmas into today’s conception of Santa Claus, including his physical appearance, the night of his visit, his mode of transportation, the number and names of his reindeer, as well as the tradition that he brings toys to children. So perhaps it is only fitting for our holiday surprise that an Englishman in Finland composed a poem of his own about a long dead Italian swordsman, Fiore dei Liberi in the Armizare Vade Mecum.

What do all of those funny words mean? We’re glad you asked!

Armizare (ar-mē-zah’-ray): 1. (v.) “to be in arms”, to be prepared for battle, 2. (n.) the name the warriors of medieval Italy gave to their martial art, which combined the wielding of sword, axe and spear with wrestling, knife-fighting and mounted combat.  Archaic Italian for arte dell’armi, “the art of arms.”

Vade Mecum (vā-day-ˈmay-kəm) 1: a book for ready reference; a manual; 2: something regularly carried about by a person.  From Latin, “go with me”.

Dei Liberi’s tradition is preserved in four distinct, beautifully illustrated manuscripts, which have formed the basis for a world-wide effort at reconstructing this ancient fighting art. What many students of the art do not realize is that Fiore wrote in the loose verse common to many medieval authors, who used rhyme to aid in memory. However, the size of Fiore’s work and length of each passage makes memorization difficult. By contrast, mnemonic “teaching verse” was part and parcel of the German masters of the same era. To balance the scales, Guy Windsor, one of the most renowned authors, researchers and teachers of armizare has sharpened his quill and penned this reference book for the modern student. Both pithy and profound, at times comically gory, the Armizare Vade Mecum is both an homage to this famous swordsman and a practical aid in learning his deadly art.

The Armizare Vade Mecum is our first ebook, and we’ve tried to make it something a little special. Featuring a beautiful design that harkens back to the medieval manuscripts that inspired it, we are certain you will find Guy’s “little book” to be as charming to view as it is to recite. With line art by Robert Charrette, it also forms the perfect companion in look and theme to his incredibly popular Armizare: The Chivalric Martial Arts of Il Fior di Battaglia.

By Gregory Mele

n medieval European swordsmanship the greatest commonality of technique is found in the teachings of the one-handed sword. Whether it is a cross-hilted “arming sword”, a falchion-like messer, or the later, complex-hilted weapon of the Renaissance, there is a fundamental substrata of guards, wards and basic actions and tactics that transcend “school”.

In Ms. I.33, our oldest surviving treatise (c.1300), the author writes that there are “seven guards that all fencers uses”, and these seven are nearly identical to the seven presented by Angelo Viggiani, almost three hundred years later. Along the way,  we can trace the same positions as fundamental to the one-handed swordplay of Fiore dei Liberi (1409), Hans Talhoffer (fl. 1450s – 1460s), Antonio Manciolino (c.1523) and Achille Marozzo (1536).

There is no real mystery in this; these seven guards, or some variation therein, are the positions that one simply *must* move through with a sword to make full and half cuts, underhand and overhand thrusts. While masters of the rapier would later reduce the number of guards to four, this reduction reflected a new emphasis placed on the thrust, rather than a blance between point and edge.

It is also interesting how these “primordial” guards are prioritized. Emphasis is almost always placed on three positions. The first is a low guard on the left side, point angled behind the opponent. The second guard is carried high on the right side of the body the point aimed at the adverary. In the third, the point is rotated behind the swordsman’s head, threatening a strong cut from above. In fact, these three guards appear because they are the simple action of drawing the sword into an immediate preparation for a thrust or a cut.

Indeed, although most masters show the sword drawn in the first guard, Talhoffer and Viggiani both illustrate the guard with the weapon still sheathed, (although at times Talhoffer also shows the weapon unsheathed).

Fiore dei Liberi writes of the first guard:

 This position of the sword is called Coda Lunga; it is very good against the lance and any other handheld weapon… Bear in mind that this guard counters all the blows both on the mandritto and the riverso side, and is usable against right- or left-handed opponents. We will now see the plays of Coda Lunga, from which you always parry as I have described in the first illustration of the guard.

Which brings us to….

The Universal Parry

In his introduction to the section on the sword in one hand, Maestro Fiore describes a single, universal parry that can be used against any attack. In this initial section, his actual instructions on the mechanics of the parry are rather slim; he does not describe the blade action in detail, other than saying that he will cross, beat aside the weapon and uncover the opponent. In basic form, this both the predecessor and same basic action as the “rising riverso” taught by the Bolognese masters and described in great detail by Angelo Viggiani in Lo Schermo (1570):

…hold your wrist in such a fashion while you draw it forth that you do not make a turning; and do it so that your hand rises high, and to the rear on your right side, so that the point of your sword is aimed at my chest, and downwards somewhat toward the ground, and stop it there, with the true edge of the sword facing the sky, and the false toward the ground, taking care in the selfsame tempo that the rovescio travels, that you make with your body a little turn in such a way that your left shoulder is found somewhat more forward than your right, and that your left arm follows the right through the forward side, so that it is found toward the right side; and make additionally a slight turn of your left leg on the point of your foot through the draw, and the heel should be somewhat lifted from the ground; and together with this make your right leg lie extended, with the body somewhat erect: you see how I do it?

The motion is very simple: as the attack is made, the defender cuts up with the sword while shifting his front (right) foot to the right. As the blades intersect he continues to cut into posta di finestra (dei Liberi’s name for the second guard) with or without a pass forward of the left foot. This passes the attacker’s sword across his body to his left, and puts the defender on his outside line, ready for an immediate riposte. This basic action is a thrust, but if the defender over cuts in the deflection, he enters the third guard and can immediately respond with a cut. Sure enough, this is the next technique Fiore discusses:

I’ve found you completely open and hit you in the head with no trouble. And if I pass forward with my rear foot, I can perform some close plays against you, like binds, breaks and grapples.

Fiore dei Liberi was definitely a “keep it simple, stupid” kind of guy, so we shouldn’t be surprised this basic defense with two ripostes, depending on where your point is located, keeps recurring in European swordplay. Talhoffer chooses to illustrate it in several of his books, doing dei Liberi one better by making the first cut an attack to the opponent’s arm (an option that Viggiani drolly calls “a very good parry).

Long after dei Liberi and Talhoffer were food for worms, the “universal parry-riposte” persisted. Viggiani describes it as the foundation of all swordplay, and his “30 minute lesson” on how to survive a duel comprises nothing more than: make a rising parry, followed by an overhand thrust, recover back into a low guard on the left. Wash, rinse and repeat until your adversary is dead. Although Giovanni dall’Aggochie (1570) thought that a swordsman challenged to a duel might wish to know a bit more than this before entering the champ clos, the universal parry and its two possible ripostes still forms the basis of his notes on “Preparing for a Duel in 30 days.

Even the transition to a new style of fencing did not entirely kill the technique: Ridolfo Capoferro chooses to end his Arte and Practice of Fencing with a chapter entitled: A Failsafe Way To Defend Against Any Attack By Parrying With A Riverso And Always Striking With An Imbroccata. Here, he writes:

As I get ready to finish this work, I think it may be useful to end it with a brief dissertation that illustrates the virtues of the prima and quarta guards. The prima strikes the opponent while the quarta defends against him—the beginning and the end of any honorable quarrel. The quarta defends against any attack (feint or earnest), while the prima strikes the opponent.

        It is, however, important to remark that these two guards are inseparable companions, and that one ends where the other begins; in other words, they begin and end without an actual beginning or end.

        The prima starts high and ends in quarta rather low, and this for two reasons. Firstly, if the opponent attacks you with a thrust or a cut, you can parry with a riverso while passing with your left foot somewhat towards the opponent’s right side; you can then push your right foot forward and strike him with an imbroccata to the chest, at the end of which you would again be in quarta. Secondly, the opponent would only be able to attack your right side, which makes it easy to defend with an ascending cut from the quarta.

       Make sure you perform these actions with a brave countenance and an eye quick to spot where the opponent is open and where he is well defended. Also, make sure you have strength and readiness in your legs, arms and hands, swiftness to parry and strike, and agility in your body.

Post Script: Old Technique, New Use

Synchronicity is sometimes an author’s best friend. As I was working on this post, I had thought to include a mention to the Sikh martial art of Gatka, a newer derivation of older, traditional fighting arts. The Sikhs are famed swordsmen, so it is no surprise that a large part of Gatka training involves the sword, sword and buckler, and stick. Since many an enemy has learned over the centuries that the warriors of the Punjab know their way around three feet of sharp steel, it is probably also no surprise that as one watches Gatka sparring and warrior dance demonstrations, some familiar actions emerge.

Enter synchronicity. Jack Chen maintains an excellent website called Chinese Longsword; a site of translations and videos dedicated to reconstructing the lost weapon techniques of China. One section of the site is dedicated to the Da Dao (“Big Saber”), a heavy, two-handed falchion, made famous when the 500 sword-wielding members of the 29^th Division of the Chinese Nationalist Army used the sword to hold off the Japanese for seven days and nights at the battle of Xifengku. Before it was done, the “Big Saber Contingent” slew over 3000 men. An impressive head-count, but hard won: only 20 of the swordsmen survived the battle.

A great deal more can be read about this at this blog post, recently discovered by Chen. For our purposes, the most interesting part is this:

“Many Tonbei Quan masters were involved in training the troops.  My teacher talked to some of them during the 70′s and 80′s.  According to those masters, the techniques they devised and taught to the general troops where no more than 10.  In fact most of the time only one technique was used – a powerful upward sweep to knock (磕) the incoming bayonette away, and at the top, reverse course for a powerful cut (砍) downward toward the neck.

So effective were these simple weapons and techniques, the Japanese military actually devised a neck protector – a folding metal collar that is attached to the helmet. But it proved to be too weak for practical usage.”

Jack Chen also notes that this same technique for the Da Dao was taught generations earlier by Yu Da-You, a Ming Dynasty general who defended China’s shores against Japanese pirates. General Yu recorded this technique in the sword treatise section of his book Zheng Qi Tang Ji (Book of Vital Energy). Mr. Chen provides a translation of this training manual and also links to a number of old video clips of the Chinese arm training with the “Big Saber” on his website.

Fourteenth century Germany and 20^th century Manchuria might not have much in common on the surface, but they do have this: form follows function, function follows form, and there are only so many ways to both wield a sword and to teach its use quickly and efficiently in a short period of time. Viggiani, Dall’Aggochie and Capoferro knew that, and clearly so did the teachers of the 29^th.

his Halloween we have no tricks, only treats. And this is a treat we’ve been itching to announce for weeks.

Rapieristas, you read it here first: Capoferro is  only weeks away from sitting on your shelf!

Tom Leoni completes his “Italian Rapier Trifecta” with an all-new translation of the text most prized by historical fencing revivalists in the last 150 years: the Great Representation of the Art and Practice of Fencing, written in 1610 by master Ridolfo Capoferro.

Tom has also included bullet-point synopses of all the actions illustrated by Capoferro, as well as a glossary of rapier-fencing terms with examples referring the reader to how they are used in the text. Also included is a primer on key rapier-fencing concepts and actions, as well as a historical introduction about Capoferro and his extraordinary relevance in the revival of historical martial arts.

At the heart of Capoferro’s fame are the 43 beautiful illustrations that form the centerpiece of his Practice.  Thanks to the generosity and leg-work of Mr. Devon Boorman, we were able to gain high-resolution reproductions of the original illustrations, taken directly from the copy owned by our friends at Academie Duello in Vancouver. We can’t thank Mr Boorkman enough for his generosity in not only offering to provide the images, but arranging to have his precious book scanned!

Now while we are still in the deed of arms afterglow, we thought we’d share a little “arms and armour envy” of our own: the Laurin Tournament.

Held in early October at Castle Mayenburg in Völlan, South-Tyrol, Italy the tournament is in its third year. Run by the “Gesellschaft des Elefanten” (Company of the Elephant), a living history group recreating the last decade of the 14th century.  The Laurin Tournament is described as a series of single foot combats meant to simulate a deed of arms from the period 1370 – 1400. The full rules for  fighting in the lists can be found at the Laurin Tournament website, but what you’ll really want to browse is the substantial and amazing gallery they have provided from past years.

How amazing is that gallery? Well, here’s a teaser! (Note that all photos shown here are copyright the original photographer and the Company of the Elephant.)

As we found with the WMAW Deed of Arms, setting the right tone is important. For a martial arts event, that is balancing history and tradition with modernity, while still conveying the right “mood” and homage to the antiquity of the martial art being displayed.

In a living history style of event, the look and feel of the period is paramount.  For North Americans interested in medieval living history, we can only help but be envious at the advantage Europeans have in being able to hold their events in real castles, old towns or ancient ruins. But even then, there is having a nice locale for your event, vs. really setting a scene!

We can see why the organizers of this tournament are so proud of their location. The 6 m x 6 m list, raised platform and enclosed gallery truly sets a scene right out of a medieval illumination, which must make it hard for the combatants not to be duly inspired a they don their helmets!

Admittance to the tournament is by application, and consists of combat with sword, shield, spear, axe and dagger,  divided into a series of rounds, fought by two types of combatants: fully armoured knights:

(OK, that’s gotta hurt. And in front of his lady….)

And more lightly armoured “men-at-arms”. (Note that enclosed gallery we mentioned earlier!)

According to the published rules, each of the combatants will fight between five and eight times, so the total fight time is from a minimum of 40 minutes to a maximum of 64 minutes. We’re not sure how much time the combatants had between bouts, but 64 minutes of actual combat time in full harness can be a pretty darn good work out!

Now we admit to having a weakspot for late 14th century armour, and certainly, the Company’s choice of the Elephant for a badge and location in the Tyrol can’t help but make any student of armizare‘s heart beat more quickly, but what we are most interested in is tipping our hats and celebrating the efforts of kindred spirits who seeks to set a higher bar for celebrating both our history and the martial arts they produced.

Those interested in learning more about the Laurin Tournament can contact the organizers through the website  or at:

Gesellschaft des Elefanten

Schennastraße 60

I-39017 Schenna (BZ)

Südtirol -Italy

Internet: www.company-elefant.com

e-mail: info@laurin-tournament.com