Raising the Bar Ever Higher—The St. George’s Day Exhibition of Arms

[29 April 2024]

Mike Cherba on Georgian Sword & Buckler

It was a pleasure not only to share more Radaellian sabre fun with people, but also to be a student again at this year’s St. George’s Day Exhibition of Arms at the gorgeous Chateau South in Atlanta, Texas. This event, created and orchestrated by one of my favorite people, the redoubtable Russ Mitchell, with help from the lovely people at Winged Sabre Historical Fencing (based in Dallas), is part class, part graduate seminar, and all brilliantly enjoyable. A little over a year ago I wrote up a short piece on this event in which I called this weekend of classes, discussion, and bouting a bar raiser. [1] It was, and, it is. In fact, in year two Russ and friends have placed that bar at least a few feet higher.

There are many tells beyond my high opinion of the event, and to be fair, they are likely better gauges than whatever I might think; after all, Russ is a researching fencer and thus I may be slightly biased in his favor. He is a wonderful human in addition to his vast knowledge of fencing, history, and how the two mix, but again, I acknowledge the potential bias. In light of that, I offer the growth of the Exhibition—we had more people this year; the variety of classes—we had everything from 18th cen. Broadsword to Georgian sword and buckler to a deep dive into the various types of molinelli/moulinets one can make; and, the diversity of the crowd, already solid, expanded—to name one example, this was the first time—ever—I had a chance to cross swords with someone using Meyer’s system for single-handed cutting weapons. In sum, word of this special weekend clearly reached deep into corners of the historical fencing map this past year, and hopefully will continue to do so this year as word spreads.

The St. George’s Day Exhibition of Arms is one of the three events I point to for how we should be doing things. This is not to say that there are not other important events, only that of the many I have attended these three stick out. They are exemplars, models, paths to follow, with one caveat and a potentially contentious one—one must know what one is doing, or, know whom to invite in the case one does not. SabreSlash in Prague, The Exhibition, and Rose & Thorns all share common themes and ingredients. They are run by knowledgeable people, both in their own right and in whom they seek out to teach. Each of these events is run well and offers the attendee better cuisine than the average tournament of weekend seminar. The level of ability, of skill, not to mention knowledge, is high. Not above average—HIGH. This is true not only in terms of know-how, but in terms of execution. One test of this for me is how beginners are treated and what they take away from these events.

Come one, Come all

Among the new folks this year were also newer fencers. One of the things I watched closely was the degree to which beginners understood what the instructors were teaching and how more experienced fencers treated them. Full disclosure I was not worried much about this knowing what I know about Russ and his people, but all the same given the different backgrounds each had even the best designed event and intentions of the organizers can fail. One would have to ask those beginners, but from what I saw not only were newer people brought into the fold, but accommodated seemingly without effort. The first is less surprising—outside a few bad apples, most historical fencers are welcoming and just happy to find yet more sword nerds with whom to play. As Alex Spreier, who taught a fantastic course on the broadsword system of Zach Wylde said to one new person, who was a bit shocked at the open invitation to join us in the PNW (where we tend to house people to save them money), “Of course! You’re sword family!” This was beautiful and proper and makes me love Alex that much more, but more impressive were the ways in which Alex, Kat, Mike, and Russ arranged their classes to meet the needs of students of any level. This can be extremely difficult to do.

The Classes

Alex working Wylde with Jake

Kat’s class on footwork, a topic easily made way too challenging, was disarmingly unintimidating. Her explanations were simple, but dead-on to what was most important, and everything we explored one did at one’s own pace. She was there to answer questions, and at each turn exuded a “you can do this” demeanor that just made one want to try harder. In like vein, Russ’ class on the molinelli/moulinets was a textbook model for how to cover a complex topic effectively and in ways useful to beginner and experienced fencer alike. Starting with the shoulder alone and working our way slowly to using wrist and fingers, Russ enabled everyone to see the variety of methods used in various systems, but also foreshadowed and for-armed everyone for what they would need for each subsequent class. Mike Cherba’s class on Georgian sword and buckler is one I have attended, even assisted with, numerous times, but hands down this was his best iteration of it. He made converts. It’s dynamic, different, interesting, and so damn fun it’s hard not to fall in love with khmali and pari. The standout heretic—to use his own words—was Alex Spreier’s presentation of Zachary Wylde’s broadsword system. This early 18th century method tends to be snubbed by fencers better acquainted with salle fencing—Wylde’s English is not posh, and his system is bare-bones self-defense. It is also brutally effective (as it should be). Alex also made converts. I offered a close look at Radaellian molinelli and how one might use them via one tactical set up. This introduced a laboratory experiment taking that Radaellian version and seeing how it might apply, change, work, or not work in the Hussar system Russ teaches. [2]

Discussion at meals, over the oceans of coffee consumed, and in between classes was jovial, curious, and informative. It is often said that we learn more at these events after classes in small discussions, and that is likely true. Between the two there was a rich banquet of knowledge to digest. One of my favorite such moments was sitting by the atrium pool listening to Russ’ quick summary of the history of Hungarian fencing (yes, I took notes and yes some of these gems will find their way onto this page, guaranteed). Related to the last, several of Russ’ students were preparing to be examined as peers on the final day. Being the responsible man he is, Russ has avoided the pitfalls of ranking systems that often undermine the goal of such systems—to become a peer means demonstrating an ability to carry on the tradition should, as he put it, Russ been unable to do so himself. [3] Proof of stewardship is provided via an oral examination and in bouting, and if applicable, teaching. I am honored to announce that both Kat Laurange, whom I deeply respect, and Coleman Franchek, whom I just met but took an immediate liking to, both passed and are now instructors within the system.

OF NOTE: Russ, an expert in the Feldenkrais Method, once again and free of charge, helped me with a gimpy hip and the equally wonky wrist he helped me supinate when he was last in Portland–thank you Russ! If you’re in the DFW area, and need help with any movement challenges, see Russ [4]

Russ Feldenkraisening my wonky wrist; Coleman in mirror

FIGHT!

I have two favorite forms of public bouting. Accolade tournaments and exhibition bouts, and to be honest, of the two the latter appeals to me more and more. An “exhibition of arms,” as the name suggests, is a chance to highlight, to celebrate the particular approach to a weapon or system as a master or school envisioned it. The goal is not to win, though that’s nice, but to exemplify as best as possible what makes that tradition unique, distinct from others. There are a number of reasons this is important and useful, but it’s also just plain fun to watch. It says a lot that we kept score mainly just to ensure everyone had a turn to bout everyone else, and it perhaps says that much more than many of us had trouble even doing that. Russ at one point asked his student Jake, currently bouting with me, what the score was and neither of us had remembered to! So, we said “two to two” and kept playing.

We started with bouts between the instructors, one of my favorite things to do, and then each instructor did their best to fight everyone. I mean everyone. It can be exhausting, especially if like me one hasn’t been bouting qua bouting so much as engaging in teaching bouts, but it’s worth the exhaustion. It was a pleasure to cross swords with Russ who is as skilled as he is gracious; these traits are also shared by his students, old and new, and they are seriously challenging opponents. I won’t lie—they are among my favorite people to fight because it is always difficult and always super fun. Last year, Kat trounced me beautifully, and she did so again this year only differently—never saw that long, deep thrust coming since I was so concerned about my wrists lol. Kat is one of those fencers you should fence as often as you can and at any opportunity—she will make you a better fencer. Fighting Russ, Kat, Kevin, Jake, Jacob, Austin 1 and Austin 2, all of the Hussar fencers, was one of the reasons I made the trip. Quentin Armstrong, whom I just met, came to the event from Louisiana and offered me my first bout against someone who really understands Joachim Meyer’s sword in one hand. I am seriously hoping to do that again soon. I didn’t have a chance to fight everyone, so owe the first dance to Ellie and then next to Trevor, but I look forward to that eagerly,

Gratitude

I would like to thank Russ and the fine folk of Winged Sabre Historical Fencing, including not only his students but wonderful partner in life, Anna, for the invite and for taking such good care of us. Kat Laurange waited patiently for me at the airport despite a serious delay, and then graciously gave me a place to stay until we left the next morning (thanks Kat and Scott!). Russ and Anna gave me a lift to the venue and arranged for instructor rooms at the Chateau.   Thank you Raoul for such generous use of this beautiful site (https://www.chateau-south.com/)!

Thank you to all the fencers who attended my class, chatted, and worked with me this weekend. I was and remain honored to have taught at The Exhibition and in such good company.

As a final note, before I left for Texas a friend of mine, a life-long martial artist, asked me if this was a paying gig. Having run a do-jang for years he knows how things work. Not being involved in historical fencing, I had to explain to him that for the most part renumeration is not standard, partly because we all do this because we love it, and partly because few programs can afford to cover travel, room and board, and food—most clubs are struggling to acquire the most basic, economically sourced gear that won’t break or fail. Then I told him, that in the case of The Exhibition, this is the sort of event one happily pays to attend. It’s the kind of event one saves money all year to attend. So dedicated are some attendees that they camp on site in tents, despite humidity, bugs, and new this year—tornado warnings! This is important and worth consideration.

Waiting out the Tornado Sirens

NOTES:

[1] cf. https://saladellatrespade.com/2023/04/24/a-bar-raiser/

[2] https://www.ticketleap.events/tickets/chateau-south/exhibition-of-arms

[3] As a note on this, Storica Defensa’s ranking system is not a “belt system” either, but a way a) to categorize competitors by skill level, and b) a way to classify levels of coaching.

[4] https://www.irvingfeldenkrais.com/?fbclid=IwZXh0bgNhZW0CMTAAAR2-2VE3_CN6p80i8mZhdsIW58HjErNPRoi1nyA9v-MeD1k2vtlKoNYLlEg_aem_ATY4HDbQ3EnxTDZyQwTDElgc_-24Xn7IU4t1OwHQlXaewpWQ3ajV9WKEwuYYOvE4hYlqL9vhlAVRWOQUOSFPxTVC

Why Storica Defensa?

[warning: this is a long post, but I wanted to address a few things fully]

On several occasions lately I have been asked about my role in Storica Defensa, and in some cases the same way police might ask a teenager why they’re loitering outside a convenience store. There is some inherent suspicion there, and in this case, for several reasons. First, and perhaps most obvious to the denizens of social media’s historical fencing pages, because one of the founders, Jay Maas, a friend of mine, upset a lot of people with satire initially a little too subtle that aimed at fault lines in reasoning, practice, and interpretation in “HEMA.”[1]  It is not that Jay was wrong in his criticisms—pound for pound he has been correct—but that he ruffled a lot of feathers. Not everyone saw the satire, and so took his memes, comments, etc. as personal affronts. For the record, Jay knows that his previous (key word: previous) approach was not the best, and has made repeated, concerted efforts to mend things with people. [2] In many ways Storica Defensa (SD) is part of that—it’s a way to give back and rather than point out the flaws, address them and work to fix them. Second, and at the risk of upsetting some colleagues, especially those with certifications through either the USFCA or equivalent bodies, there is a sense that unknown or troublesome upstarts are infringing on their turf. Third, SD is new, not well-known yet, and those upset by it or fearful that it may affect their own programs, have misunderstood, and in some cases misconstrued, the purpose of SD.

As a person brought on early in SD’s formation, I would like to address these in turn, and explain from the inside what SD actually is. I do not join anything without consideration. Experience, perhaps especially negative experience, is a powerful teacher. More than once, either through naivete or enthusiasm, I’ve allied myself with people or groups I later regretted having joined. For a local example, some years ago an instructor at one school I attended on occasion, during a particularly difficult time in my life, attempted to humiliate me publicly more than once. It didn’t end well, but as the truth will out, his poor behavior with still others ended up destroying that school and relegated him to the sidelines. We repeat lessons we haven’t learned, and this was, for me, just such a repeat—do not put faith in people or groups who do not have your best interest at heart.

This is to say that I would not back SD if I didn’t believe in its mission or if I took issue with the organizers. I’ve known all but one of the four initial members a long time, and the fourth, Xian Niles, I quickly developed a deep respect for, even before learning of his fencing education. If I had had the least doubt that any one of my colleagues was up to no good or eager to undermine anyone else, I would not have agreed to help.

My Own Involvement with Fencing Organizations

My first exposure to the larger issues plaguing most sizeable fencing associations was with the USFA (United States Fencing Association) in the early and mid-1990s. For several reasons I have never been over-fond of the USFA. First, it’s expensive—especially for younger students. Second, it dropped the ball (along with the FIE) when the “flick” in foil and the idiocies attending electric sabre ruined traditional technique and tactics.[3] Third, it’s myopic in focus: all that matters to the USFA is the competitive world. For the vast majority of fencers in the U.S., being competitive fencers, there is little to no problem with the governing organization. Most of the time it is more or less invisible, there in the background. It works well enough for them, especially if all they know is the post-flick and flat-of-the-sabre-as-able-to-score world. That is fencing to them. [4]

In more recent years, while working toward a certification through the USFCA, I was annoyed to learn—post exam—that I had to join the USFA and jump through other hoops as well. This was not clear up front either on the website or in the test preparation documents. Having to go through SafeSport, while an extra cost, at least is something I can get behind because it’s important—as a coach, and moreover one who works with a lot of children, mostly female children these days, it’s crucial to be a part of the solution and to model good behavior. Everything SafeSport teaches “should” be obvious, but it isn’t and so while ticked to find out about a hidden cost, again, this one I understand.

In fairness, I had good experiences with the USFCA (United States Fencing Coaches Association) up to then, and was disappointed to learn that it was merging with the USFA. On the surface it’s a natural alliance and makes sense, but of the two there was a chance, a slim one, that the coaching wing might, might continue to entertain the idea of a broader view and remain inclusive. The USFA is almost solely concerned with Olympic aspirations and the competitive scene, but fencing is, and has always been, much more than that. Most fencing coaches are not training Olympians, but working in obscurity at the YMCA, your local P&R, or some college campus. The USFA gives next to no thought to them—the USFCA did, at least a little. If nothing else they allowed the late Walter Green to push “classical” fencing classes and viewpoints and allowed obscure coaches like me to participate in classes for my own improvement as fencer and coach.

On the historical side, which is far more decentralized, the “HEMA Alliance,” for example, was a good idea, but like its cousin in the sport world is more concerned with sport (largely longsword) than anything else. They offer an instructor certification course, but it is unclear just who is evaluating candidates, and of course, like the USFA more recently, one must pay to retain a certification after a few years. [5] Given that leadership in the HEMA Alliance has often been people very new to fencing, it raises serious questions about who they think is qualified to evaluate other instructors. Most competitive HEMA is dismally poor in quality so one must question just how high the bar for skill is. Put another way, if fans of a medical tv drama are teaching and evaluating surgeons, that’s bad.

In sum, I am wary of most fencing organizations, Olympic or otherwise. It’s not that they don’t include a lot of good, because they often do, but that for one reason or another they fail. It may be that I have just been unlucky with these organizations. They work just fine for many people, after all, and while they don’t work for me, I don’t condemn anyone who finds value in them. This said, I think we can do better; I think most every fencing organization with whom I’ve had contact can do better. One of the things that attracted me to SD was that built in is the notion that it’s a new group that will grow, evolve, and improve over time. One may well wonder why that is, and so, here is the single most important reason.

It’s about the Material—not Us

While SD contains personalities, SD is not those personalities. Cults of personality are popular in “HEMA,” but a terrible basis for a teaching program. Skill trumps popularity. Openness tends to be healthier than stodgy isolation. Transparency fosters trustworthiness better than hiding in the shadows. NONE of what we teach is ours—our interpretations of past fight-systems are, like museum artifacts, property of the human race. We may help explain them, teach people about them, but we do not own any of this. Be wary of anyone claiming to have a monopoly on truth, ability, or understanding. The nature of historical fencing is mutable, and must be as new or better information may change previous conclusions.

Our focus is on the material, in this case, the corpus of fencing theory and practice as put to paper over the last 700 years. The best preparation for tackling period sources, contrary to the prevailing opinion in “HEMA” is a solid grounding in traditional pedagogy and technique. Modern fencing, the sport, while it features some aberrations, still imparts a thorough grounding in universal principles and much of technique. Armed with this, a student of historical fencing will more easily unpack what the sources contain. Certainly, historical understanding of the period is a boon, but this can be obtained secondarily by leaning on the historians who work in the specific period of one’s interest. There are even a few such historians active in historical fencing.

Added to the source traditions and time-proven teaching methods, SD’s founding members, among others, have extensive experience in other martial arts systems. Though wary of “frog DNA,” of misapplying one system’s material to an older, extinct one, a broader, deeper understanding of a variety of approaches does much to inform one’s own. [6] Where individual responsibility for clear delineation might fail, collective attention to the dangers of comparison, another built-in feature of SD, does much to correct.

Storica Defensa’s Goals

The goal of SD is three-fold. First, we wish to improve the quality of teaching. Second, we wish to improve the quality of ability in historical fencing. And lastly, we want to sponsor and cultivate not only safer competitions, but also better run and judged competitions. These are three of the areas that currently suffer the most in the community. To tackle any one of these areas is a daunting task. However, they’re related—if coaching is better, the fencing will be better; if both coaches and fencers have a more sophisticated understanding of the Art, then judging will improve too.

So, here is what we are actually attempting to do at Storica Defensa.

Teaching:

Many, maybe most “HEMA” groups got their start as a tiny group of people, or an individual, who saw something about historical fencing and wanted to get involved. Some people have a background in the sport, others in the SCA, still others in martial arts, and many with no athletic background whatsoever. [7] The grass-roots nature of historical fencing’s development, therefore, has rarely included much if any training in traditional fencing pedagogy. In fact, given the misguided disdain for all things Olympic fencing, most people in “HEMA” outright reject modern teaching methods.

There are a handful of schools with credible masters who teach historical fencing topics, often among more modern lessons, but these are comparatively few and too often exclusive. Some are exclusive out of fear, others out of arrogance, some suffer both, but the result is the same—unless one pays their way in, kowtows to the right people, one is forever excluded. This is true regardless of skill, knowledge, or anything else save perhaps notoriety. Get enough Youtube hits, who knows, you too may be invited to WMAW. It tends to be a closed club, however, and unless there are political or social reasons to consider, or one has made a big enough splash to appear knowledgeable, outsiders are not welcome. They may attend, if they can afford it, but they will not do so as intimates of the inner circle.

I do not wish to knock WMAW—it is a solid event and would that we had more conferences that combine classes, lectures, free-play, and the all-important after-hours conversations where the real learning happens, but with all appropriate respect to those benefits, and to my friends and colleagues who teach there, it doesn’t do much good for the vast majority of historical fencers. This is, granted, a bias of mine: I want everyone to have access to what we do, with as few economic or social barriers as possible, but not everyone sees it that way.

The few teaching programs available State-side, staffed by many of the same who teach at conferences like WMAW, tend to be exclusive too. One must travel to their events, pay for participation (which makes sense of course), and take whatever it is they’re teaching. Most of these programs have a set curriculum, and few offer help online to reach those unable to travel. This is not to say that the instruction is bad, but you get whatever it is they are offering and that may or may not be what one wants. I back—for the record—any informed, skilled, and valuable teaching program, and in do not wish to denigrate them; here, I am simply pointing out that there are various barriers that prevent these schools from reaching a lot of people who really, really need their help.

SD seeks to be inclusive, to teach teachers how to share all this disparate, often difficult material better, wherever they are and whatever the topic. Much of this can be done online. There is not, at present, any fee to join. Should SD work out and grow, in time that may change as costs to operate increase, but the goal is not profit or fame, but improving instructors and fencers. Moreover, SD does not take over a club or impose its will and ruleset on anyone—it is completely voluntary, and, is set up to work with any program. Your club, this is to say, will not be subsumed but continue to be your club. In fact, we want people to study with other coaches, as many good ones as they can, because we all benefit in the end.

Quality of Fencing:

If you’ve read much on this site you will know I do not have a high opinion of most historically-oriented competitive events. Much of it is unsophisticated, sloppy, and devoid of anything more complicated than single-tempo actions. I have, on the other hand, done my best to promote those events where both skill and officiating is excellent—SabreSlash in Prague, Czechia, and The Rose and Thorns Historical Fencing Symposium, Auburn, California, USA, stand out in this regard. The solution to seeing better fencing is creating better fencing instructors, thus point one just above. However, not everyone wants to coach, so SD has a system to help competitors or recreational fencers improve their game.

One learns better having to teach a topic, so for those clubs interested each rank in SD can teach certain other ranks a degree of material if that club wishes to do that. This can be as simple as leading footwork drills. Each rank, each set of rubrics, all the training videos, are built on traditional fencing instruction, close attention to the source material, and decades of experience between the organizers, all of whom continue to take lessons as well. As new information or better interpretations pop up, the various curricula will change if and when necessary: we do not want to rest in any interpretation should it be superseded by a better understanding of that weapon or tradition. All of our training videos and personal instruction reveal a path forward, but we also believe it is important to investigate other (rational, well-supported) interpretations. In the aggregate, we all learn more and improve.

Proof is on the piste. Watching some members work towards the next rank, and then looking back at earlier footage, the improvement stands out. The system works. For those of you more competitively-minded, SD fencers are cleaning up in a variety of events in Canada (where we started), and, in some cases at events actively hostile to some of our members. To overcome bias, dislike, and less than fair judging requires a degree of skill deep enough that it is absolutely clear who got the touch.

Safer, Better-Officiated Competitions:

Having witnessed injuries in historical fencing tournaments I never imagined I’d see, and hearing of even more, there is a deep need to provide safer, better run matches. We do this for fun, after all, and trips to the ER, permanent injuries, and all the cascading consequences of maimed limbs, concussions, and pulled muscles shouldn’t be normal.

The SD events held in Canada in 2023 and 2024 have been not only injury free, but have highlighted the difference solid officiating makes. It’s common, for a number of reasons, for attendees to act as judges. Many do not have adequate time-in let alone sufficient training to judge the high-speed action of a bout. It takes years to learn to do this even moderately well. SD dedicates time teaching instructors, fencers, everyone, how to judge. Fencers in SD, from the off, are taught to analyze and evaluate bouts. It makes sense too as for historical fencing, we do not have a body of officials specifically trained to do this job. This is normal, or was, in the Olympic world, and works better than winging it.

SD’s ruleset is also system agnostic. General terms, such as “outside parry,” for example, might apply to sabre, smallsword, longsword, or spear. Specific categories, say smallsword or longsword, will have rules appropriate for these tools, but the basis is the same: hit but do not be hit. For some weapons the scoring is weighted (e.g. longsword, sword and buckler), for others—especially those that are high-speed (smallsword, sabre), it’s non-weighted. Considerable thought and experience went into these rules.

WhoTF Do we Think We Are?

It is important to explain why we think we are able to offer what we do, and, what if any process we underwent to validate the claim. This is a fair question, and it deserves an honest, clear answer. Transparency is a necessary ingredient in trust, and in the spirit of that, here in no particular order are some of the reasons we feel capable to offer what we do.

First, none of us is claiming any rank or expertise that we have not earned. We are not maestri d’armi.

Second, each of us brings considerable experience, not only in terms of teaching, but competitively.

Third, we have taken and continue to take lessons whenever possible. Fencing is a lifetime pursuit and we are never, ever finished learning, correcting, or perfecting.

What else?

Combined the two founders (Xian and Jay) and their advisors (Patrick and myself) have over a century of experience and instruction. Moreover, each of us has long experience not only with traditional fencing pedagogy, but also deep grounding in the source traditions. Any one of us, by the way, is willing to provide evidence for this should one wish.

Both Patrick Bratton and I have doctorate degrees. In and of itself that doesn’t mean much—neither of us has a PhD in fencing ;-)—but it does mean that we spent years and years learning to conduct formal, public research, to analyze sources, to deliver conclusions clearly in print or at a rostrum, and that we know a thing or two about teaching. My initial research was in ancient and early medieval history, especially early medieval Ireland and things Celtic, but when academia didn’t pan out I turned my research skills to fencing and now, almost exclusively, research the history and development of various aspects of the Art.

ALL of us have years of formal instruction in fencing, and as I said, continue to study with a master whenever we can. Some of us more or less acted as prevots/provosts at various times in our careers. For example, my last master had me work with his younger students and ready them for competition.

Xian, Jay, and Patrick not only teach, but continue to compete in historical fencing tournaments. This means, among other things, that they’re putting their money where their mouths are—if you require proof of their skill and suitability, of their knowledge of tourney life, there it is. I used to compete, but age, injury, and a demanding schedule don’t make it easy for me to train for tournaments. Serious competitors train for these things, and let’s just say that past a certain age, and with comprised limbs, it’s absolutely necessary to train well unless one wishes to go to hospital or miss months of fencing thanks to recovery. [8]

As for the ranking system we employ in SD, from Ibis to Oak, it owes much to both the French and Canadian armband systems in Olympic fencing. [9] In fact, a former president of the Canadian Fencing Federation, Stephen Symmons (Phoenix Fencing), was instrumental in helping us devise a system for historical fencing. Note well: SD ranks are stand-alone—at present, and so far as I know for the future, there is no plan even to try to establish some equivalency with older, well-known programs and ranking systems. [10]

Finally, and to correct misinformation out there:

Storica Defensa does not control members. They are encouraged to train under as many affiliated and unaffiliated coaches as possible in a number of different martial arts and compete at outside events under diverse rulesets. This includes at a club level. While we enforce safety at SD sanctioned events and affiliated clubs, they may also participate in non-SD activities.

All SD members are valued and encouraged to contribute to SD projects, organization and ideas for curriculum. SD is a living organization, it is not a strict tradition or hierarchy. Avoiding some of that language was intentional in the formation of the project. Collaboration with other people, coaches and programs is an important part of our vision. [10]

NOTES:

[1] The internet is notorious as an imperfect medium for communication. It is easy to misinterpret a comment or joke. This can be a hard lesson to learn, but the responsibility goes both ways—just as we need to be mindful in what we say and how we say it, so too as readers we need to take the time to evaluate and make sure we understand what we’re reading. When in doubt, ASK.

[2] It pains me to see Jay’s concerted efforts to mend things with people and to encounter people who either ignore that fact or for some reason don’t think it’s enough. This has happened twice in the last month.

[3] I have waxed long and boringly on these faults often, so will leave it at this.

[4] One reason Olympic fencing will never fix the problems undermining it is that on the one hand those who have succeeded via dubious techniques have a vested interest in preserving the status quo. Second, it’s been long enough now that an entire generation or two of fencers doesn’t know any better. All the garbage, as I stated above, is fencing to them.

[5] Just as we have people play-acting as scholars, so too do we have people without ability playing instructor. Got to crawl before you can walk, and in “HEMA” too many people only run.

[6] In the “Jurassic Park” sense of frog DNA as a misguided shortcut.  A classic example is cutting competitions—much of the technique by so-called experts comes not from the manuals and treatises they claim to use, but from their experience in Japanese sword arts. There are many ways to cut through a target, but that doesn’t mean they’re all the same.

[7] One of the best things about historical fencing is the diversity. However, the same ethos is too often applied to pursuits like research and teaching where there are conditions. We should have a variety of viewpoints in scholarship, but all of them should be informed; we should have different approaches to coaching and learning, but the people teaching should have sufficient training to teach.

[8] The older the engine, the more maintenance it requires. Time, wear, and repair take a toll. The vintage auto one takes out once in a while will likely survive a day trip in the country, but one should not take it to Le Mans.

[9] For France, see for example https://www.escrime-parisnord.com/les-blasons; for Canada, see https://fencing.ca/armband-instructional-program/

[10] This is an important point to make. I have often expressed concern over people with dubious claims of authority and/or expertise, and thus am perhaps a little too ready to show my cards. I do though, because one must. So, if anyone reading this wishes to discuss my own credentials, etc., let me know and I will do so.

There are analogies with traditional fencing ranks, I know, but this has more to do with common roles and requirements. Put another way, the ranks we’ve devised are more job description than status marker. Need help getting ready for a tournament? Find a Lion or Fist. Have questions about devising a lesson plan or approaching a new weapon under study at your club? Ask an Oak.

In brief, the ranks divide into the following:

Competitive Ranks:* Ibis (green), Ram (blue), and Lion (red)

Coaching Ranks: Fist (bronze), Oak (black)

*these are coaching ranks as well, but more limited in scope.

For the most part, the ranks help determine where fencers will be placed in tournaments. So far, having people of similar skill levels compete against one another has worked out well. There are plenty of opportunities to push themselves in working with more advanced fencers too.

For the coaching ranks, Fists are high-level coaches who can teach fencers of all levels, and Oaks primarily coach other coaches. Each of us who have been granted the Oak rank underwent the same evaluation process that new candidates do. To earn the Oak rank a panel of at least 3 other Oak-rank coaches must meet and assess the fencer in at least 3 different weapons at all levels of coaching (Fist to Lion).

[10] SD Informational Brochure, 2, 3.

Alex Spreier on the “Soft” Skills in Martial Arts

We often have friends that are just easy to promote–Alex is such a friend. His blog is excellent, but this piece on the so-called “soft skills” so important in martial arts and too rarely discussed is the best I think I’ve yet read on the topic. There is a lot of psychology, study of social dynamics, and anecdotal evidence that can make the discussion of how to deescalate a situation, how to be situationally aware, and how to avoid trouble, but few talk about the other side of this.

https://www.highdesertarmizare.com/2024/04/01/soft-self-defense-skills/#comment-340

If you’ve had the misfortune to experience acute hyper-awareness and/or paranoia; if you’ve experienced the mental, physical, and emotional after-effects of an adrenaline rush; and if you’ve never entered a building, street, or situation without assessing those present, escape avenues, and what might make a decent improvised weapon, then read Alex’s post. As he says,

The goal with situational awareness is to be aware but not vigilant. 

Well said Alex!

What _is_ “Transitional Rapier?”

Transitional Rapier; bladesmith Tomas Aiala Spanish hilt, ca. 1625–50; blade, 17th century [https://www.metmuseum.org/art/collection/search/27450]

An extremely clever and well-read chap I know, let’s call him “Mr. B.,” has more than once said that he believes the next “big thing” in historical fencing will be “transitional rapier.” Certainly there are signs that this is true–rapier, ever popular, thrives, but the smallsword community is growing and with it, in time, will come those who want to know how rapier led to smallsword.

In an offhand way, I often refer to rapier as a sedan and smallsword as a sports car, which is to say that (eschewing linear progression) the smallsword appeared largely because some people (not all) grew tired of the longer, sometimes more cumbersome rapier. There are a number of amusing anecdotes from the 17th and 18th centuries about swords tripping people up, becoming a nuisance in a cafe or shop, and the smaller weapon, while it can certainly be a pain to wear, was less of an annoyance in public spaces if not when sitting down, mounting a horse, or at court. [1]

Defining just what is a transitional rapier, and the dates that surround it, is challenging. Like most things in sword development and change over time, the dates are best used as guides rather than firm start and end points. To save others time, I examined a few places that discuss this–there is much more to read on it than I present here.

Egerton Castle, a Victorian scholar of fencing, whose interpretations have often been found wanting since his time, on the one hand delineates a “transitional period” well, while also muddying the waters of sword classification with his take on the “flamberge” as only Victorians could:

The seventeenth century–during the first half of which was accentuated the distinction between the military weapon, or sabre, and the walking sword, rapier, or small sword–is essentially the age of transition.

The simplification of the rapier consisted in the almost universal adoption of the cup or shell hilt, the gradual reduction of its dimensions, and the elimination of complicated counter-guards. It is observable that about the middle of the century the cup hilt becomes very shallow, and in the shell hilt the shells open out more and more. The simplest form of the transition rapier may be described as consisting of quillons, knuckle-bow, and pas-d’âne, surmounted by either a shallow cup or two plain shells. In fact, there is very little to distinguish it from the small-sword guard except its larger dimensions. [2]

In broad outline this holds up well, though there were other sorts of military swords in use, and some people continued to use previous styles of rapier. I left out his discussion of the “flamberge,” what Ewart Oakeshott among others refers to as “dish-hilt” rapier. The former term can be confusing as it referred to a variety of swords. E.D. Morton, in the Martini A-Z of Fencing, defines the flamberge as:

A somewhat imprecise term; originally it indicated any large sword, especially of the two-handed type. Yet the term was used contemporaneously, and for long afterwards, to describe a blade of the way, snakish, variety. Towards the end of the sixteenth century, the word acquired a very different significance. A flamberge was understood to be a slender-bladed rapier, with a greatly simplified hilt consisting of a cup and quillons only, but without rings, knucklebows or other accessories. Finally, in the days of the small-sword, flamberge, which in France had once been used as a synonym for almost any type of sword, became an expression of disdain for a clumsy, outmoded weapon. [3]

Perhaps significantly, one of the most important works, A.V.B. Norman’s The Rapier and Small-Sword 1460-1820, while it discusses various hilt and blade types, does not provide a specific chapter for the “transitional” stage. Norman’s treatment of the changes in guard, however, and how we date them, is informative. Placed next to other discussions, he fills in a lot of the details. [4]

In his chapter “From Rapier to Smallsword” in Swords and Hilt Weapons, Anthony North provides a succinct summary of rapier development. Just prior to his coverage of the smallsword in this chapter, North mentions what he calls “light rapiers,” such as the dish-hilts popular in England in the 1660s, and reminds the reader that many styles coexisted. The title of the chapter is fitting, for as he writes:

Rapier; hilt, probably Dutch; blade, Spanish, Toledo, ca. 1630 [https://www.metmuseum.org/art/collection/search/27371]

The seventeenth century was a most important one in the evolution of the sword in Europe, for by the 1630s the fashion for rapier and dagger play in fencing had considerably declined. A decade later the smallsword, in effect a light rapier, was introduced. In fact, from various advertisements in the ‘lost’ columns of journals such as The London Gazette it seems that, for a while at least, ‘rapier’ and ‘smallsword’ often meant the same thing. The smallsword rapidly became the most commonly worn sword in Europe and in some countries continued its career into the nineteenth century. Since the smallsword hilt developed directly from that of the rapier, it is appropriate that the two weapons should be discussed together. [5]

What is the take away from this short sample of examinations? First, “transitional” rapier might refer to a few different styles of weapon–to different lengths and widths of blade, to different hilts. Second, the period of transition, which includes overlap in style preferences, is centered on the 17th century. Individual hilt styles varied, some coming in the 16th century for example, but for the most part we’re looking at the 17th century. Fourth, and for me most useful, is considering how these weapons were intended to be used. By and large, “transitional” rapier points to use of the sword alone, that is without a parrying dagger, buckler, rotella, or other off-hand options.

Guard position, _The Free Master of Arms_, Charles Besnard, 1653

It would be unhelpful to include all the options under the title–by that logic smallswords might be considered transitional rapiers too. That isn’t wrong, I don’t think, but it isn’t helpful either. Likewise, Italian, especially Neapolitan, and Spanish systems of the time, had not yet abandoned off-hand options. Marcelli, I would argue, represents later period rapier, but not necessarily “transitional” rapier. Ditto Pallavicini.

I am not an authority on rapier nor on sword styles and development; I’m a passionate enthusiast and fencer, so what follows on what I look to as “transitional” is just my take on things and offered only as suggestions.

A few sources I recommend:

–first and foremost is The Free Master of Arms by Charles Besnard (1653)–it is excellent and provides a very thorough approach in logical progression. Rob Runacres and Anne Chauvet have a delightful dual-language edition published by Fallen Rook Publishing.

–Another master worth examining is Johannes Georgius Bruchius (active in the 1650s)–Reinier van Noort has translated and published his important work. For fans of Fabris and his legacy in northern Europe, Bruchius is a must.

—Alfieri, while he covered a number of weapons, including rapier and dagger, devoted a lot of attention to the rapier alone–his On Fencing (1640), later republished with additional material as The Art of Handling the Sword Well (1653), is excellent.

–the work of André des Bordes, whose Discourse on Theory, Practice, and Excellence at Arms (1610) is considered a French distillation of the upublished the book by Camillo Palladini.

I would love to hear your thoughts on the topic, both the idea of “transitional” rapier, and, the masters you most look to, so feel to message me and we can make this post more of a discussion.

NOTES:

[1] I covered a few of these in the short piece I wrote, “A Brief History of Smallsword,” available here under “Coaches.” Scroll to the bottom and in bold you’ll see “Research, Interviews, and Media.” Click on that and it will take you to a list of articles, etc.

[2] Egerton Castle, Schools and Masters of Fencing: From the Middle Ages to the Eighteenth Century, 1885, Reprint New York, NY: Dover Books, 2003, 238; Ewart Oakeshott, European Weapons and Armour: From the Renaissance to the Industrial Revolution, Woodbridge, UK: The Boydell Press, 2000, 165-166.

[3] E.D. Morton, Martini A-Z of Fencing, London, UK: Queen Anne Press, 1988, 66.

[4] A.V.B. Norman’s The Rapier and Small-Sword 1460-1820, 1980, Reprint Ken Trotman Publishing, 2019, see especially the discussion 43-47.

[5] Anthony North, “From Rapier to Smallsword,” in Swords and Hilt Weapons, New York, NY: Barnes and Noble Books, 1993, 58-71.

The Event we _Need_: Rose & Thorns Historical Fencing Symposium

In my hands is an original copy of Marcelli’s _Regole della Scherma_ 1686 owned by Maestro Kevin Murakoshi.

This weekend I had the pleasure to attend and the honor to present a class at the Rose & Thorns Historical Fencing Symposium, a two-day event composed of classes and various tournaments hosted by the folks at Diamond Rose Academie d’armes, Auburn, California. To say I enjoyed it is understatement—it was extremely well run, the quality of the fencing (beginner and advanced) was impressive, and the hosts were open, friendly, and passionate about fencing. My good friend Alex Spreier (High Desert Armizare), who kindly joined me this weekend, and I found ourselves actually enjoying the bouts—on several occasions we approached the fencers to tell them how much fun it was to watch. This is in no way a dig at Issac and company—from all I could gather pre-event they appeared as delightful as I found them to be in person, but there is sometimes a disparity between great folks and less ideal tournaments. Rose & Thorns, in my view, is the ideal.

Before explaining that, I should state that my notion of the ideal meet consists of quality fencing, education, and camaraderie. Many events feature people who get on well, and many do their best to provide classes, but with few exceptions I’ve not seen the level of fencing skill, beginner to advanced, that I did here, whether in the pools or in pick-up bouts. Caveat: this is not to say that such events don’t exist—I’m assured by friends and one recent reader that there are other high quality examples of solid fencing. I believe that, I do, but this said for the events I’ve not attended some of the footage shared from them has proved the rule (hop and chop, all first intention, no use of measure, etc.) rather than the exception. Put another way, Rose & Thorns is what “HEMA” tournaments should be.

Smallsword and rapier, generally, draw a different crowd. Interest in these weapons overlaps with like-minded enthusiasts in the SCA, among others, and given Diamond Rose’s history (iirc it began as SCA), this isn’t surprising, but at the risk of offending friends of mine in the Scadian orbit, the smallsword and particularly the rapier I saw was, by and large, not what I typically see in the SCA. It says a lot that I could often identify the source a particular fencer favored, and it says more that the fencers in question weren’t merely costumed up and aping the plates, but making effective use of the source material. There was also a healthy mix of people—some clearly classically inspired fencers, some from the sport-rapier/black tiger side, and even—importantly—Olympic fencers with one foot in historical. Among the last, it was a treat finally to meet Christopher Bartlett. He’s a seriously nice chap and an excellent fencer.

The blend of classes and lectures, the division of the hall into a teaching/pick-up bout/vendor side, and competitive sections, was smart. I was not able to do it all, and missed a few options that I should like to have attended, but the classes I was able to attend and the people whom I met and had a chance to chat with, more than made up for it. In particular, I had a chance to meet some people I’ve mostly known via fb, such as Matthew Lawrence, Christian Killingsworth, and Maestro Kevin Murakoshi (Maestro, thank you so much for sharing your recent book acquisitions, and, for introducing me to Itto Ryu). Meeting such wonderful humans is one of the things that makes these events so special.

Thanks to two long days on concrete, and a misstep (my own fault) during Christian’s class on Nicolaes Petter, I had trouble with my hip and so was unable to enjoy some pick-up bouts with Issac and his people, among others, and so here I’d like to add that I collectively owe them a bout or two next time we meet.

Thank you Issac Humber and Diamond Rose for hosting and running such a stellar event. I am honored to have been asked to teach and am grateful to you all, and to those who attended my class on Charles Besnard’s Le maistre d’escrime libéral. The Rose & Thorns Historical Fencing Symposium has joined SabreSlash in Prague (hosted by my dear friend Maestro Michael Knazko) and the excellent Russ Mitchell’s St. George’s Day Exhibition of Arms as one of the events I should like to attend again and which I hope never dies.

Granularity in Teaching Fencing

As so often happens, a student observation yesterday during the first practice session initiated not only a valuable learning moment, but also provided a reminder to me as a coach about the place of detail in teaching technique. How much detail and just when we share it are often part of a balancing act between sufficient explanation to help the student and overwhelming them with too much information. Experience tends to be a good guide to this, but it varies by student, and there are times we misread and unwittingly confuse rather than clarify things.

In discussing a thrust with opposition, the student commented that until that moment he had equated “engagement” and “opposition,” and that this is one reason, so he discovered, that he has struggled to make a glide/glizade work. The two terms can correspond, but they’re different–an engagement merely means that the two weapons are in contact in a specific line; opposition refers to a way of parrying or thrusting that shuts out the opposing steel.

The student, so he shared, had been simply thrusting straight out from guard, say from third, along the blade, but importantly without opposition. In effect, he was only aiding his opponent–performed this way, he was placing the weak of his own weapon into the strong of his opponent’s, basically handing them a parry. It’s not that I haven’t covered how to perform a glide over and over again, because I have, but that the concept hadn’t really solidified for him yet. Both his version and the proper one slide along the other blade, but they do so very differently.

It was a key “a ha!” moment for him, and immediately it changed not only how he fenced yesterday, but how he will fence, how he will drill, from now on. A leftie, the chances of doubling with a glide are greater, because both weapons are in the same plane. Armed with new information, well, better understanding of old information, he was able to adjust his hand to the right height and create the proper parabola to target.

Later, in the hours before my next class, I thought about what had happened. Occasions like this are important and can help us improve our methods. First, I wanted to establish that I had not neglected anything previously. Second, I reviewed my notes for the ways in which I normally introduce this action. One of the things I noticed is that I list terms, but realized that in class I may not always define them or do so adequately. I do my best, but familiarity with the information can blind us to the fact that an “obvious” notion may not be so obvious to others. A similar phenomenon can happen in demonstrating an action–even should we execute it perfectly, students may not understand the finer points that create good execution.

So, for next time, my plan with the glide in a new class is to be sure to define the most important ideas. In this instance, that means making sure they see a distinction between an engagement/contact and the leverage that the glide requires. I will do a better job pointing out the height of my hand, its distance from the line, and how the glide follows a parabola to target. This will bring in other, critical concepts vital for success, from the proper measure to the tempo inherent in the action.

Generally, when we lunge with the glide, the point is lower than the fist, hand just outside our own bodies, angled slightly in, and upon termination of the lunge the hand is somewhere between the chin and nose. Some masters show it higher than that, but it need not be unless one is fighting someone uncommonly tall. It’s normally best to be as efficient as possible. Having engaged the opponent’s weak with our middle, the hand makes a slight arc as we reach for target–this ensures that we maintain leverage for as long as possible, this leverage being vital for opposition. Another way to refer to opposition is that one is “closing out” the opposing weapon, keeping it offline and maintaining that deviation so as not to double.

I’ve used this hastily drawn image before, but it serves well to illustrate the angle from above:

Though in this example the blades are not aligned ideally, one will notice that the fencer at the bottom has their point off-target. Assuming the top fencer shifts measure, either with feet or the arm, to command their weak, then they might perform a glide, and at this angle, the bottom fencer’s point will continue to go off to the left.

The “Point”

This short post is meant to highlight a few things. First, that we always be careful that we explain things well, demonstrate them well, and keep an eye out for problem areas.

Second, the ability to add or remove detail to assist a student is important, but takes time to develop. Start small, start simple. With a more advanced fencer, but new to smallsword or whatever you’re teaching, a lot of basic concepts will likely already be there–in this case it may be demonstrating how the action changes from foil.

Third, very few historical manuals go into great detail or as much as we often need to teach, so a major part of interpretation and implementation is filling in those missing details. This is arguably one of the most important, but dangerous things we do, because we leave the page and have to connect the dots as best we can. For smallsword, given the similarities between it and aspects of traditional foil and epee, this is a little easier to do. However, it remains tentative much of the time, especially for actions that became obsolete. It means constantly checking the details we provide against the text and/or texts which include the relevant action.

We will sometimes get it wrong, but this is part of the process, and if we’re conscientious, honest, and open to correction or new information, we are far less likely to go wrong.

Slides from Interview with Dr. K, 27 Feb. 2024

I had the great pleasure to meet again with my friend Dr. Manouchehr M. Khorasani of Razmafzar TV. This session we explored a bit about using sources in historical fencing–it’s just a cursory, basic look, but slides help so I am attaching them here as a pdf.

The next planned meeting will explore using a specific text in more depth, and, with luck I’ll have someone able to assist me in demonstrating the various things we cover.

source-analysis-5e0-historical-fencingDownload

The Point: Assumptions Guiding the Teaching of Fencing

One of the best aspects of teaching is that one learns in turn. I’ve been extremely fortunate to work with talented, insightful people, and few lessons pass where students don’t leave me with a lot to ponder. Yesterday, a student whom I normally meet Fridays, visited my adult smallsword class and wrote an inspired message to me with his views on some of the points I made in class. Jeff, the friend and student in question, and I have very much the same outlook on all this, but working one on one with him he hasn’t seen me present answers quite the same way I might in a larger class.

I’d like to share part of Jeff’s email here and discuss it. He wrote:

In your lesson, you reiterated what you have often said, that the goal is not to hit first, but to hit without being hit—-the double touch being no good to anyone. At least, not if the swords were sharp. I learned this many years ago from Nick Evangelista, and obviously it did not originate with him, and it is good to see instructors passing on this sound advice. The advice is both philosophical and practical. (Philosophical intersections are some of the reasons for fencing’s appeal.)

The application of this philosophy in HEMA highlights how far sport fencing has drifted from the martial art. To determine upon—or even to risk—mutual destruction in order to score the winning point in a match seems like a betrayal of the purpose of fencing. It is, however, worth considering some circumstances in which this might not be the case, if only to show why the exceptions should not tempt us to change the rule. I hope this argument is not circular, but it’s worth pondering what sort of fencing tradition (or martial arts tradition) encourages the double touch and whether it is honorable, respectful, or practical to attach oneself to that tradition.

“Greater love than this no man hath…”

Sometimes, a sacrifice is necessary. A man will deliberately forgo any safeguard in order to end a threat to his family, even if the certain result is death to him. Obviously, he would prefer to hit without being hit, but if a double touch is the only way, he will do it—no matter the weapon, physical or non-physical. We strive to attain skill, build experience, and learn strategy, so that such sacrificial encounters will be rare. We want them to be the last resort, not a clumsy, desperate stroke that we resorted to because our ignorance blocked all other opportunities.  But we must admit that such circumstances are possible.

The rest of his message was just as well-written and on point. Taking his first point up, yes, I reiterate the “don’t get hit” mantra often, and have to, because for us it’s highly theoretical. I’ve touched on this at length, so won’t do so here, but we train with friends, no one is angry or trying to hurt another, and we wear safety gear. Generally, the worst consequence we suffer is we get hit. Big deal, right? There is extremely little to no incentive not to take chances, and so, people do. All the time.

Maitre Calvert with the Legion (under the “X”)

There are, true to say, instances in which one might choose to “double-out” or fight even knowing one might lose. A stand-out example, and one related to me over coffee by my late master, Delmar Calvert, is illustrative. He joined the French Foreign Legion at 15, and saw action in France just before it fell to the Germans. Delmar left the Legion for the partisans when fascist sympathizers within the Legion killed a few people in their sleep. In time, the OSS found him and the others fighting in the Maquis, and trained them for commando operations. [1] It was during one mission, after having attacked a German supply column, that they realized they were about to be overrun. One of his mates grabbed a heavy machine gun, and told the rest to run for it. This man knew he was going to die, but for the success of their unit and future operations, he made the choice.

In contrast to that real-world, life and death situation, our context in fencing, historical or Olympic, is specific, and if I may say so, narrow. Moreover, unless someone is doing something especially stupid, it’s safe. Wet assume a one-on-one battle. Even in “HEMA” most of the events boil down to one-on-one bouts, not melees. There are groups like Bohurt/The Armored Combat League that pursue melee fighting, but it’s not the most historically accurate endeavor (topic for another time).

So, as Jeff pointed out, we teach, train, and fight–ideally–under a specific assumption, namely that our opponents, like ourselves, do not want to be hit. This is, however, an assumption, and not one universally adopted or practiced. Perhaps more correctly it’s an assumption many pay lip-service to, which they either have trouble implementing in their practice or fail to realize they need to.

This assumption underpins nearly everything we teach. For me, it’s raised the question again and again of how those trained in ways similar to ourselves converted that training to melee/combat situations. [2] We don’t have a lot of information, not enough anyway, to fill out that picture. The way I normally explain it is that the sport and the historical duel have rules–combat does not. [3] Day to day, however, my task has been how to instill this sense of “don’t get hit” in class for our context, which assumes a room or at least a safe space, and safety gear.

Teaching fencing takes different forms. In the sport, for example, we use ROW in an attempt to instill the proper mind-set, that is, a defensive one, but being competitive, and rules being things people always find ways to exploit, we end up with deviations and if we’re really unlucky, features that undermine the original intent of the sport. Classic examples are the “flick” in foil and epee and the bell-guard slap in sabre. These are suicidal actions, but… since they can score points, and winning is the point, the choice for victory over accuracy tends to win out. That they are as ahistorical as they are senseless is immaterial–they earn one points.

In large part, the classical and historical movements owe their current form to dissatisfaction within the sport in the 1990s and early 200os. As I’ve mentioned before, the rise of the internet, and the speed with which information can travel, allowed not only for the sharing of ideas, thus helping these movements grow, but also made texts available on a global scale, one heretofore unknown. Both movements were, in theory, attempting to put fencing back on track. Of the two, classical fencing has had arguably more success within itself–focused on the three traditional weapons or close relatives, with copious sources, and even now a few elderly masters who remember how things used to be (though increasingly few of them), the classical approach is easier than that for earlier fencing, so little of which–in comparison–has survived if it was even written down at all. [4]

Historical fencing, and “HEMA” in particular, has always been a patchwork of good and poor research and interpretation, but it has been the rise of competition within hema that, ironically, has led that community to commit many of the same sins as Olympic, only under different names. Some people are aware of the irony, but most are not.

The stand-out example is doubling to win bouts. This was/is a standard strategy in epee, but we see it in nearly every aspect of hema now, regardless of weapon. It’s all either “beat them to the punch” or “well I got you too.” My issue with this is that both fail the principle of “don’t get hit.” Again, this is an assumption, but if competition is meant to show anything, then ideally it is meant to demonstrate that one opponent’s skill is superior (on that day at least…) to another’s. What has been proven if both are hit? What is proven if one wins by losing as one wins? It doesn’t make sense.

It’s confused, but then hema by and large is too, even down to vocabulary. One of the words I have come to detest in HEMA is “martial.” People use this as a synonym for “effective,” but the primary denotation of “martial” (e.g. warlike, pertaining to war) undercuts and confuses things. We aren’t fighting mock wars, but duels. A duel between two people isn’t a “martial” situation the way a 14th century field battle was. These are very different things, but since both are “fighting,” the similarity wins out over the many important differences. [5] The fact that hema tournaments want things to be “martial,” but then allow ridiculous, suicidal actions to count goes a long way in explaining why hema is a mess and why most trained martial artists and fencing coaches look down on it. Both of the latter, incidentally, get a lot of grief when they point out these flaws, and adding a self-inflicted bullet wound to their foot, the already concussed body of hema dismisses them as irrelevant.

To practice more combat-related actions at speed, with intent, will injure people and destroy gear, and no insurance company I know or have heard of is going to be okay with that. As I tell the younger folks I teach, we don’t want to hurt our friends because if we do, they won’t want to play with us. In short, there is only so “martial” we can be, and to pretend otherwise makes little sense and is misleading. Some systems, Fiore’s armizare stands out, were not meant for safe-play or competition, and surprise, what we see at events, even in many demos, is what can safely be illustrated. The same issue applies to later period weapons. This is one reason that I view the difference between “dueling” and “military” sabre as chimerical–they both relied on the same body of technique: what differed was how much one might use and the context in which one did.

For me, the best way to do right by the traditions I inherited is to present them as faithfully as they were given to me, and if possible, add a bit more of the historical context, something my other training makes possible. For the most part, since I’m preparing people to fight one-one-one, I teach according to the typical assumptions behind such combat. On the rare occasions I present material intended for different context, say weapon seizures and dirty fighting (punching with the guard, pommel strikes, kicking, elbow-breaking), I also admit up front that we can only gain an appreciation for this aspect as it is, quite literally, unsafe to train. I think there is value, however, for more advanced students in having a glimpse into that side of fencing, one we do not and cannot see short of law-suits.

One take away, and the one I’d like to focus on here, is that what most of us present to students is ONE view of a varied, far more colorful and interesting world. The sabre system I teach, Radaellian sabre, grew out of cavalry practice, and while we retain aspects of the from-the-saddle game, we cannot use it as for horseback. We don’t fight that way. Most of the surviving works for the Radaellian system cover unmounted drill, so happily we have a lot from which to draw, and can provide an impressively deep and robust system. When it comes up, or once they reach a certain stage, this is something I share with students, because they need to know that what I show them for fighting on foot would not work for a mounted context, not without adjustment. [6]

Being aware of the assumptions that underpin our program is vital. It helps us define not only what we teach, but also the “why” behind it all. It should also, ideally, help us delineate what we can teach from what we cannot or should not, the latter in the sense of safety. All the fancy stuff, the exceptions, the unique plays and actions, all of that is fun to explore, but it’s best for one to dive into all that after learning the fundamentals and having some skill with the weapon in question.

NOTES:

[1] See Bernard Coliat, Vercors 1944 Des GI dans le maquis, Bourg-les-Valence, FR: l’Imprimerie Jalin, 2003; see also https://www.lakeoswegoreview.com/news/from-foreign-legion-to-fencing-master/article_ed077025-e3a3-5f55-bd08-411da08f74a8.html

[2] For example, some officers learned via private instruction, so one-on-one. battles don’t work that way, so some adjustment from piste to field had to be made, or, one was unlikely to survive. We have hints of this. Hutton, in The Swordsman, remarks with reference to fighting in Afghanistan that

He will not politely salute you, he will not come on guard in correct fencing-room style and abstain from attacking until the blades have been engaged, and he will not in his fighting make use of the lunge and recover to which we civilised swordsman are accustomed, for the very good reason that he knows nothing about these things; but what he must and will do is exactly what our English sword and buckler men did in the days of Shakespeare, at which time the lunge had not been invented.

[“The Grips and Closes,” 127ff, Alfred Hutton, The Swordsman, Leeds, UK: Reprint The Naval and Military Press, LTD. with the Royal Armouries, 2009.]

Hutton’s typical Victorian sense of European superiority notwithstanding, the Afridi warrior he assumes as his example he clearly saw as a formidable opponent, and, one likely to have the upper-hand against a salle-trained fencer.

[3] Modern notions of combat ethics aside, historically and in most areas of the world, hand-to-hand fighting is utterly brutal. It has to be. What supposedly set apart the duel from a mere fight was the ritual apparatus around it, the rules and societal expectations around it. Often, it was better to lose a duel than survive one but break those rules.

[4] Classical fencing, alas, has its weirdos too, but being a smaller enclave of things swordy, it affects very few. Maitre Evangelista, a major proponent for fencing with sense, was vilified unfairly by many in Olympic fencing; he was right, and they didn’t like it.

[5] It’s the same logical failure that the ancient aliens and other conspiracy nutters tout. Reason, evidence, and logic have little sway when it comes to things people want to believe. The fantasy element in hema is strong, ditto the puerile machismo so often on display, but nothing anyone does or says will change that. To fix a problem means recognizing there is one, and that cuts too close to deep personal feeling to happen.