An old friend and fencing comrade, the excellent Jon Brammer, pointed out that I had mentioned but not followed up upon the master of arm’s examination I took in Prague. Apologies.
While happy to write about fencing, I find it difficult to write about myself, so I’ll be brief and say that I passed and share some photos.
Four years ago, when I first had the pleasure to attend SabreSlash 2021 in Prague, Czechia, I was stunned at how well-run, how fun, and how high the level of skill was, both amongst the attendees and the instructors. This event jumped to the top of my list of “if you can go, GO!” historical fencing conferences. My visit this year, last week in fact, only cemented the value of this mix of workshops, fencing, and camaraderie. So, if you have a chance to attend, DO.
It was a busy week for me, partly because I wanted to support my dear friend, Maestro Michael Kňažko, as he set things up and managed the two-day mix of workshops and fencing, and partly because there was a double reason for my attendance this year: I would be testing for certification as a maître d’armes.
Michael, his amazing partner in life, Caroline, and the excellent folks at Barbasetti Military Sabre (since 1895) have preparations down to a science, and if anything set-up and take-down were faster than ever. The rest of the weekend was as well run—workshops were a good length and sandwiched between ample rest periods; “RandomSlash,” was super successful (more on that below); and everything was geared to allow people to mix and get to know one another.
Goals of SabreSlash
The three goals of SabreSlash are to celebrate and explore history, hone skills, and cultivate friendship. The first and second were most on display in the workshops and in the RandomSlash bouting day two. I have much to say about all the workshops, especially as I did my level best to be a grown-up and sit out so that I didn’t exacerbate any of the injuries I’ve been tending and which are all but managed. Few things are as difficult as seeing that degree of fun and forcing oneself to take notes.
What I would like to discuss first, because it is the most important to me, is the friendship portion. I honestly don’t know quite how to express this, but to say that there are few places in life where I have met that many people and felt an instant kinship, like I had always known them, and who are, to a person, absolutely remarkable, interesting, and kind. At my age, one doesn’t make a lot of new friends; distance and loss tend to start to take over, not necessarily from any ill-will, but stage of life.
I was absolutely struck numb by the warmth, openness, and genuine interest to get to know everyone that pervaded the event. This was the first time I had met people from FISAS in Italy, as well as the team from the Malta Historical Fencing Association, or, from the Wrocław Polish Martial Arts Club SIGNUM POLONICUM. I cannot say enough really about how much all of them impressed me, not just for their fencing ability and related skills, but as people. We talked about a lot of things, not all of them easy topics, and the compassion, understanding, even hope were inspiring. I am so grateful to have met them—people like that enrich our lives in ways we don’t always see right away. I also had a chance to reconnect with people I met last time, especially Paul Chéreau from Paris, and meet his coach there, Maître Jean-François Gilles. Despite language barriers, we all managed to communicate pretty well—to be fair, my monolingual status was the greatest barrier, but I like to think that a little time trying to speak, even a little, in Czech, French, Italian, and German only helps. [n]
Workshops
The workshops made me feel like a kid in a toy shop. The first class, given by Maître Gilles and Paul, was on French contre-pointe, a topic of great interest to me. After lunch, Maestro Andrei Xuereb explored firm-footed fighting. Finally, a man I had been looking forward to meeting as we’d only chatted on facebook, Leonard Marynowski, took us through a detailed look at the way Polish winged-hussars fought from the saddle. The next day, Sunday, Maestro Franco Burberi, presented a close look at Radaellian sforzi di cambiamenti, and for me personally this was eye-opening. My class was the last one, and I think it went okay. I’m not always sure, but I tried not to speak too quickly or use too many odd idioms—this last tends to be a problem thanks to family and having moved around a lot.
RandomSlash
The RandomSlash fencing pools started next. These were inspired by the “Iron Quadrangle” popular in the FISAS clubs. Everyone got to fence everyone, and, more than once. The bouts were one-touch, and presided over by a single director, in this case a friend of Michael’s, Čestmír Cimler, and me. I know that pre-event not everyone was happy that the fencing portion would be less competitive, but I stand by Michael’s decision. There are plenty of tournaments, and when affixed to workshops eventually, in time, the tournament half tends to dominate. RandomSlash’s approach allowed people to fence A LOT, but more in the spirit of a shared joy of fencing than in the stress of advancing out of pools.
My praise of this event, by the way, is not to disparage competition or other styles of historical fencing get-togethers. My best competitive days are behind me, my day schedule makes training properly for a tournament difficult, and I have other priorities, such as the sports my children play. What I value about this style of competition, which is to say bouting, is that it takes some of the pressure away and lets people focus a bit better on technique and tactics. Only one bout got a little heated, but this was not out of anger but an excess of spirit and a preexisting rivalry between friends. There were, of course, no injuries, and, people used a variety of sabres. This last part is important because generally SabreSlash supplies their own 600-650g Austro-Hungarian army-inspired trainers, and, because these mixed without issue with those used by the Poles and others with wider, heavier sabres.
Still my Favorite Event
I confess that I have some natural bias towards this two-day fest of skill, bouting, classes, and bridge-building. I like these kinds of events. The organizer is a close friend. I am a member of the host school. These, yes, all predispose me to be supportive, but it goes beyond that.
Barbasetti Military Sabre (1895)’s “SabreSlash” has been running for years without any major hullabaloo or injuries. The level of skill is high. The teaching some of the best I have witnessed at any fencing event. The work I do with Storica Defensa, based in Canada, has very similar goals in terms of improving skills, teaching, and providing safer tournaments. It’s one reason we asked Maestro Kňažko to act as the director of the program. Beyond all the excellent instruction and fun, what SabreSlash provides is a model for running a high quality, safe, and thoroughly enjoyable event, one without injuries, one where everyone walks away with better understanding, and importantly, new allies and friends.
I can’t wait to go again.
Notes:
[n] I am not fluent in any of those languages. French, German, and Italian I have learned to read academically—this means I can read articles and the like so long as they pertain to my research field or fencing. It is next to useless for using a menu or making small talk. Czech, I continue to study, because as a member of a Czech salle it is only right I work to speak the language everyone there uses. It is not an easy language, but I like the challenge, and with luck one day I’ll be able to use it well enough not to embarrass myself too badly.
My friends in Canada shared an excellent article with me today, one by Paul Becker with the Historical Fencing Academy, Nordhausen, Germany [https://www.hema-academy.com/home]. Entitled “Military Fencing & Military Sabre?” Mr. Becker explores, through detailed examples from the Austro-Hungarian Empire, what constitutes “military” fencing in his view. Do please read his article–it is well-done and covers a lot of ground that too often is left untilled. Readers will find not only his coverage of texts, but his examination of period weapons useful.
The link is here: https://www.hema-academy.com/blog/militaerfechten-militrsaebel?fbclid=IwY2xjawNLfuhleHRuA2FlbQIxMABicmlkETFNWFhBeEROeVJiOVJtR2gwAR4f6JSN3yJQ-8Lx-JSo9nfDbVAMm34vfEm6-ObW6zQ2xp0spOmIVtM2ea1J4Q_aem_KNNZWoEg5WhCCc_VVMw0dw
If you’ve read much I’ve written, then you will know how much I tend to detest the separation of sabre into “dueling” and “military” in popular “HEMA.” These labels, while in some degree useful, obscure an important fact, namely that the very people using sabres for duels were normally military officers. To quote my good friend Alex Spreier, somewhat out of context, “sabre is sabre.” The problem is that we often feel we need or at least wish to differentiate what we study from related topics–sabre encompasses a vast, truly global tool, and so is perhaps especially prone to fall into categorizing nightmares.
As I’ve too often stated, in “HEMA” the use of “military sabre” is normally meant to separate out what the user is doing from the sport. There is some sense in this, though it is over-emphasized given the vast amount of common ground shared by those examining historical systems and the modern sport. It is, historically speaking, redundant in that sabre was by and large a military weapon. It’s like calling a howitzer a “military howitzer.” The use of national terms, e.g. “Italian sabre” or “Hungarian” or “Spanish sabre” makes a bit more sense, as it refers–one assumes–to texts from those cultures and often in their respective languages. How different these systems are from one another, and how much they overlap, is a separate issue.
There were, as Mr. Becker rightly points out, differences even in the period many of us study: there was sabre intended for war; sabre intended for duels; there was sabre for fun and which employed competitive rule-sets. The weapons were often different too. For reasons I’ll leave aside for now, not that I know all of them, “HEMA” has taken a fancy to the heaviest sabres it can find, sabres that are rubbish to fence with–this doesn’t mean they wouldn’t be useful when mounted or as sharp clubs, but even there for a weapon to be effective and not exhaust the user too quickly some compromise was generally found. No one should be fencing with a 1.81 kg or 4lb sabre. One can, but why?
If one takes the time to examine the sources, and we have a ton of them, for sabre between say 1850 and 1950, they will readily see just how varied the tools were. There is the example of Lt. Col. Eduard Wagner, a Czech army officer, who not only worked with the common 600-700g training sabre, but also the heavier cavalry tool (this was about 1 kg). For a second example, one might recall the scene that Leon Bertrand shares in his odd book Cut and Thrust: The Subtlety of the Sabre (1927) where an Italian master, Giuseppe Magrini, crosses blades with an unnamed English soldier, the former armed with lighter sabre, the latter with a blunted cavalry weapon. The Englishman was also armored cap-a-pie “in heavy canvas, shin guards and cage-like mask.” [1]
In terms of the abuse of adjectives, Mr. Becker specifically calls out Barbasetti Military Sabre, and as a member of that school, and moreover as one who spent the last few months doing all I could to learn its history, I feel compelled to offer an alternative view. Allow me first to say that in most respects I agree with my esteemed colleague–but, there may be context he doesn’t have for Barbasetti Military Sabre, Prague, and if that is so then perhaps I can fill in that missing piece for him.
Barbasetti, the Military, and Fencing in Czechia
Barbasetti visited Prague in 1895. While there was sabre in the Czech Lands, it didn’t appear on the map until after the master’s visit. The influence of Barbasetti on the Austro-Hungarian army was profound. Prior to the establishment of the independent Czech state in 1918, Czech officers serving the Empire were trained, like their colleagues, in Barbasetti’s method alongside their comrades in Austria. Some, like František Dvořák and Robert Tvarúžek, attended the school at the Theresianische Militärakademie Wiener Neustadt and became masters themselves. Important to note, it was K.u.k. Fencing Master Robert Tvarúžek who wrote Šerm Šavlí, the first sabre text in Czech. Tvarúžek presented Barbasetti’s method only in the Czech language. [2]
Moreover, when the Czech army set up its own program for sword instruction, they also chose Barbasetti. From 1918, through the 1920s and 1930s, Barbasetti‘s formed the fencing curriculum in the Czech Republic. One well-known master at Vyšší vojenská reálka v Hranicích (the Military Academy, Hranice) was staff captain Karel Sekanina. He was posted to Hranice in January of 1920, and is important to the current program in Prague because he was the master who taught Master Leonid Křížek’s teacher, Lt. Col. Eduard Wagner (d. 1984). Sekanina worked with Wagner three times a week from 1923 to 1925. [3]
For Barbasetti Military Sabre itself, as a club, the use of “military” distinguishes the school’s approach from that of its colleagues in Prague. There is a close association, for example, between Barbasetti Military Sabre and Český šermířský klub Riegel–their histories are intertwined. Even today, many of the masters who teach at BMS also teach or have taught and/or fence at ČSK Riegel, including Maestro Josef Šolc and his son Maestro Michael Šolc. [4]
In addition, the terms “Barbasetti Military Sabre” also speak directly to the school’s lineage. Maestro Leonid Křížek, a key instructor and scholar with the school, was taught by Lt. Col. Eduard Wagner, in the 1960s–the method that Wagner learned, and importantly taught thereafter, was Barbasetti’s system. Maestro Křížek taught Master Michael Kňažko, and both have been important mentors to me.
The use of the term “military” is not one anybody at BMS takes at face value or wishes to project under false notions. None of us are active duty military, so some titles that we might apply would be borrowed glory and in bad form to assume. For example, the K.u.k. Armee Fechtturnier, was for military personnel. To call the event that our club puts on the “Imperial Army Fencing Tournament” is too specific–we are, again, not in the army, nor are we members of a now defunct empire. However, “military” is appropriate because the modern event celebrates these important tournaments, and, uses the same weapons and format. “Military,” here, is an appropriate and descriptive adjective. To call it K.u.k. Militär Fecht-Turnier is descriptive and avoids any confusion were we to use Armee.
SO, What do We Call Sabre?
That’s up to you. For me, I prefer “Historical Fencing” and “Historical Sabre” as it’s general enough to cover most things and yet specific enough so that students don’t show up expecting me to make them Olympic champions. I’m not the guy for that. Interested parties will ask “what kind of historical sabre?” and then I can explain the specifics of what I research and teach. My club name here, one chosen by students, is “Capitale Escrime” because most live in the state capital, Salem, OR, and we fence. We put it in French because, well, it sounds better, but also because the vast majority of students study French smallsword. My sabre students, when they meet again, will do so as a North American satellite of Barbasetti Military Sabre headquartered in Prague.
NOTES:
[1] Leon Bertrand, Cut and Thrust: The Subtlety of the Sabre, London, UK: Athletic House Publications, 1927, 74-76.
[2] K.u.k. is an abbreviation of German Kaiserlich und königlich, or, “Imperial and Royal.” See for example https://www.visitingvienna.com/culture/k-k/
[3] For a full history of Barbasetti’s impact in Czechia, see https://www.ars-dimicatoria.cz/en/barbasetti-military-sabre-since-1895-2/
A major benefit of study and review is the pleasure of reacquainting oneself with ideas and practices that one knows, maybe even relies on all the time, but which one less often articulates or thinks of the way a text might explain them. I should rather have titled this post anatomies of the lesson as in fencing there are actually a variety of lesson types. This is a topic I’ve covered in various ways before, but it’s one worth revisiting and/or tackling from different angles.
In my case, accidents of the environment in which I teach have led me to extend the duration of the usual lesson, and when I’m prepping for a more typical length of time, I’m sometimes painfully reminded of this fact. Living in a relatively rural area, a lot of my students drive in from the city or other areas, often 45 minutes to an hour away, and given the time, expense, and hassle of travel (highways here can be pretty jammed), the usual 15-20 minute, maybe 30 one often gets from a coach at a salle seems disproportionately short for the effort. I normally teach in hour blocks, but this means stretching out the 15-20 minute lesson rather than cramming the hour full of material. It means more time for drill, to explore specific actions and ideas, and, time to discuss what we’re doing.
An hour lesson is not normal, least, not in most settings. Every master with whom I’ve studied expected (if they did not outright demand) silence during the lesson. If they asked a question, one responded, otherwise one remained quiet and focused. The single greatest reason for this was time—they have a lot of students to work with and little time for lengthy discussions. Some of them, happily, are happy to talk about things or answer questions out of a lesson. Before this sounds extremely old-fashioned and doctrinaire, it might help to remember that most masters or their provosts giving lessons are giving multiple, even many lessons, and often within a short window of time. Even at those salles that are open all day, a coach may teach dozens of lessons, at all levels, and they need breaks.
In addition to time and numbers, another reason that lessons tend to be short is retention of material—people can only take in so much information. Fencing is as mental as it is physical, it’s a complex of thought, action, and expression in space, which can vary in tempo, speed, and distance. It’s a lot. To add too much to a lesson is to make the lesson worthless. Thus, one reason for different types of lessons.
Types of Lesson
Warm up: these are often mechanical, and maybe most often used before competition. It’s a way of warming up the fencer. Simple attacks, parry-riposte, counterattacks, maybe even actions they tend to favor might be the topic.
Teaching: this type introduces new actions or ideas, or, helps the fencer perfect something that needs work.
Options: in this version, one uses actions the fencer knows, but in different situations. The coach may initiate action, but the student might too. Sometimes both will depending on the topic. There are many things one can vary to explore the material—one can vary timing, distance, speed, type of footwork, initial action, final reactions, etc.
Bouting: these lessons tend to be used more with intermediate to advanced students, though there are ways to modify them for the less experienced depending on what it is one is covering. [1] Often, the coach will make some action a few times, and give the student opportunities to respond appropriately. There are a variety of ways to do this:
What type of lesson we employ depends on the student’s level of training, the weapon they are studying, and something often left out of the mix, that student’s natural inclinations and strengths.
The demands on the coach are, to be honest, significant. This is one reason that there are traditionally three coaching levels. A moniteur d’escrime, for example, often teaches fundamentals of technique and footwork. In the US, much of the training for a moniteur centers around coaches who teach at small community clubs or school programs—most often these are coaches introducing students to fencing and giving them a solid grounding in technique and tactics. A Prévôt or Provost, is similar to a master, but is a coach who focuses mostly on training fencers rather than coaches. A Maitre d’armes or Maestro di Scherma in Italian, is normally a coach with long experience and able to teach not only fencers of all levels, but importantly, coaches as well. What they do will depend largely on the size and purpose of their program and where they teach.
Not all levels of coach will teach all types of lessons. It tends to be compartmentalized. Why people fence, and the degree to which they dive in, determines a lot about their coaching. For me, I have some dedicated students who want to learn all they can, but I also have some for whom fencing is just one of many hobbies. Some work with me for years, others for a few weeks. [2] I do my best to help each meet their goals, whatever they are, and I’m also lucky to work within a network of other coaches who can further the study of my own students. Locally, there are several historical clubs as well as Olympic clubs, to which I sometimes direct students. [3] I also work with two international organizations: I represent and teach the curriculum of my home salle, Barbasetti Military Sabre (since 1895), based in Prague, Czechia, and I have the honor to work with three masters, two in Canada, one in the US, who head Storica Defensa. [4]
What Lesson When?
I teach in two formats—classes and individual lessons. Both are challenging and while there is overlap, the differences shape each one. For individual lessons, which not all my students take, the first might be an assessment lesson or a teaching lesson. The former we use to gauge the level of a person with previous experience. It varies—some fenced ten or twenty years ago, but remember a lot; some are active competitors now. What we end up covering moving forward is largely built on the conclusions reached in that initial lesson. In the latter, a teaching lesson, it either starts from scratch or from the next logical step in an experienced fencer’s progress. It takes considerable training and experience to assess any of this with accuracy.
Once a fencer has command of the fundamentals, so once they can move comfortably, have decent blade handling, and a good grasp of the basic tactics to date, we start to explore new and more advanced material. These lessons might be teaching or option lessons; sometimes it’s a mix of both. It is not often I give warm up lessons, but I do when assisting fencers at events. Bouting Lessons, on the other hand, I use quite frequently with my advanced students. Over time, it should look and feel like a bout might in the salle or in competition. This lesson style in particular requires an ability to calibrate not only what one throws at a student or responds to, but how, in what tempo, speed, at what distance, and with a thought for any follow-up action if applicable.
Adapting Formats
How does one take one of these lesson types and expand it for an hour? Well, first, if you don’t have to do that, don’t. It’s better to stick to shorter lessons if at all possible. However, if like me, it’s the fairest option for a long-distance student, then pacing is everything. I literally stretch out the normal format.
In the first ten minutes or so, we warm up—this includes stretching, footwork, and some basic actions such as parry-riposte, simple attacks, disengagements, maybe stop-cuts or thrusts.
Next, we spend 15-20 minutes on the topic of the lesson. It can be tempting to try to cover a lot in an hour, but don’t—keep it simple. Find an action, technique, and/or tactic to focus on and a few permutations following from that basic topic. For example, maybe the topic is attacks by coulé or filo, by graze. Depending on the student, I might demonstrate it first, then have them do it. That might be all we do. If they have covered it before, we add to it. First, we switch roles—if I have them attack using it first, I then have them defend themselves against it. Second, and again, dependent on level, we build from there, maybe add a feint after the initial graze, then a disengagement. We then reverse roles again—a student needs to know how to defend as well as use an attack, and in covering both their understanding deepens.
For my advanced students, the next portion of a lesson usually follows whatever we explore in a teaching or options format; the purpose of it is to allow them a chance to work on and perfect what we covered in real time and depending on level, in as real a fashion as possible. [5] Using the previous example, we would bout and explore using the graze in real time. Initially, especially with someone new to it, I set them up to make it—this may be very obvious, but it helps train them to see what it is they are looking for, and, when to use it. Next I might make it a bit more difficult, or, vary the set up. I may remove the set up, in which case they might try to create an opportunity to use the action, or, decide on a different approach. My job is to help them learn how to do that. In this style of lesson, the coach must act not only as a teacher, but a fencer capable of presenting any potential skill level the fencer may face.
We end with a cool down, normally for sabre either stop-cut/parry-riposte or arrests, or, parry-riposte.
There is ample opportunity for students to ask questions, to explain aspects of what we’re covering, and make corrections. It is vital to make it safe for students so that they’re comfortable asking questions—with an hour, we have time. In a class or shorter lesson I will announce that I’m happy to chat in more detail once we’re through with things. Explanations must be clear, germane to the topic, and constructive. Corrections, the topic for another time, should be given compassionately, without emotion, and focus on the issue. It is never okay to disparage or strike a student, practices not uncommon when I was coming up. It’s unnecessary and unhelpful—our job as coach is to build them up, not tear them down.
In historical fencing, many more experienced students may dabble in other weapons, though this is as true in the sport. [6] When this is the case, and if the coach actually knows the other weapon, comparisons across them can be helpful in explanation, even correction. Some of my smallsword students study rapier too, and so when applicable we may cover how something is handled in each case. Ditto sabre and broadsword, Radaellian or contre-pointe. The caveat here is the coach truly having the familiarity and depth within different weapons to make those comparisons constructively. “HEMA” is full of people who think they know more than they do, and so students must be particularly wary. It goes beyond the purpose of this post, but I have met a lot of students coming from schools where the coach acted as if, maybe even believed they knew a subject, but clearly did not. One advantage to being source-based is fact-checking is relatively easy, assuming one reads, and, reads widely. This is all the more true when one knows credible coaches that teach weapons one does not. When I have students interested in longsword, I send them to the coaches I know that are worth their time—I’ve dabbled in longsword, and could teach the very basics, but beyond that it would be irresponsible. It is far easier to send them to my colleagues, and, better for them.
Use What Works
Not all students need all lesson types. That’s okay. It’s best to find out what they want, then tailor things to help them get what they seek. One of the tasks I’ve enjoyed most the last few years is helping other instructors learn how to use these lesson formats. As a student myself, it helps me too, because like any coach I can always improve and will always need practice. If I’m lucky, and live to be the same age as some of the masters under whom I studied, maybe I’ll provide lessons as fluidly and expertly as they did. For now, each lesson is study for me as well as the student, and that seems fitting to me.
NOTES:
[1] With newer students, a “bouting lesson” may consist only of repeating the same simple action, both as attacker and responding as defender, but in real time as appropriate. Every drill, to the degree possible and in alignment with that student’s skill level, should emulate the conditions of an actual bout best it can.
[2] Turn-over in fencing can be high, especially if one teaches children, and this is normal. Not everyone ends up loving it, and that’s okay. We do our best to represent the Art and make it fun, and hopefully, to project the values that accompany its study. We do not all agree about those values, but if the Art teaches us anything, it is that it belongs to all.
[3] I teach historical fencing, but have students that either wish to study Olympic or already do. So long as their coaches are good, great—do both! It will only make them better fencers. This said, for beginners it’s best to stick to one track, get it down well enough, and then study the other. Far less confusing and better chances of success.
[4] For Barbasetti Military Sabre (Since 1895), see https://www.ars-dimicatoria.cz/en/barbasetti-military-sabre-since-1895-2/ ; for Storica Defensa, the facebook page is the best source of information at this time.
[5] Outside of some very basic mechanical drills, I am not a fan of any drill too divorced from the requirements of an actual bout. Drills, ideally, however simple or complicated, should be snapshots of the actions and exchanges fencers actually make.
[6] It has always varied really, but there are many “three-weapon fencers” in the Olympic sphere. There are also some specialists. Changes in competition over the last thirty years have trended towards specialization, but it is not the rule.
When I left Olympic fencing competition, the first source I found, and have used ever since, was my uni’s copy of Luigi Barbasetti’s The Art of the Sabre and Epee. I still use the photocopy I made as my working copy for lesson planning, study, etc., and save the original English (1936), German (1899), and French (1931) for checking translation matters and enjoyment. Though I’ve not been asked often, there’s a question in the mind of many of my compatriots implicit in most any discussion about Barbasetti—why him? It’s a question I’d be happy to answer, and since I’m busy preparing for exams, this seems as good a time as any to share it.
The first reason is that Barbasetti presents a clear, well-organized, and well-explained manual. Not all fencing works are well-written, but his is, and it makes a difference—there is less to puzzle out and thus to question. Moreover, in writing The Art of the Sabre and Epee he makes his purpose explicit in the front matter, and it tells the reader more I think than they might realize. Barbasetti explains that his book is intended to aid three chief populations: prepare new masters, assist those instructors whose training may have been incomplete, and to help those fencers who wish to know more about particular aspects of the Art.[1] In short, it’s a book mostly geared towards coaches, and thus provides explanation in addition to listing techniques, actions, and drills. To be fair, most fencing manuals explain things in part, but not all explain them well or effectively.
Second, my own training in sabre was remarkably close to what I see in Barbasetti. Al Couturier, the master whom I spent the most time with, was a student of a Hungarian army officer (Joseph Vince) trained in Budapest when both Borsody and Santelli were transforming sabre.[2] Of note, Borsody was a student at Wiener Neustadt in 1898-1899, and thus attended the program when Barbasetti was its head.[3] I’ll not lie, in addition to feeling familiar, I found solace in reading Barbasetti in the mid-1990s, because it validated arguments I was making about sabre at a time when very few people saw the problems in the modern game and even fewer cared.
Third, and perhaps most germane here, Barbasetti—for me—represents the ideal expression of Radaellian sabre on foot. Let me reiterate—on foot. In no way do I wish to disparage the excellent works of Del Frate, Rossi, Masiello, or others, but what Barbasetti presents is a thoroughly Radaellian core with allowances made for the unique context of one-on-one fencing to cover any situation. This is one way in which he is a bridge: in Barbasetti’s time we had, for the last time perhaps, all three major roles of fencing in play at the same time: military, competitive, and fencing for the duel.
He taught at military schools, because fencing was a normal aspect of training until the middle of the Second World War. It was only then clear that the sword and mounted troops were obsolete. At the same time, Barbasetti taught competitors, most military, but still competitors and often those who competed in non-military contexts such as the Olympics.[4] Lastly, the duel was still a reality in both Italy and France, particularly within the military, and so the training had to work. In sum, Barbasetti’s approach to sabre retained the seriousness of the weapon’s use in earnest while at the same time helping shape the modern sport.
The importance of this for us, people living at a time when only competition and theater really have any claim to need fencing (if need is even the correct word), is that Barbasetti presents an approach that, Rosetta Stone-like, allows us to examine any of the then-extant expressions of the Art through a single filter. More than that, when one reads Barbasetti next to his fellow Radaellians, the connection is absolutely clear—he was not “less” Radaellian. His belief that the molinelli form the fundamental exercise for all good sabre fencing alone should indicate this, but the fact that he retained the elbow as the axis of rotation makes it all the more clear. His preference for the guard of second in the assault and duels, the importance of the thrust as both attack and preparatory action, and the body of technique and tactics he shares all demonstrate his training in the tradition.
However, his text is different, reads differently, and I think it’s because of the fact his approach is not limited to military instruction alone. Masiello’s Sabre Fencing on Horseback (1891), for example, is purely a military text. It’s a great example of late period cavalry technique, and thus a must-read for any student of the changes in mounted combat around the turn of the century, but for most fencers its less useful in their practical education. Del Frate, Rossi, and Masiello’s giant tome are far more so, and given their overall thoroughness, particularly with regard to Rossi and Masiello, even just one of their books can provide a fencer with a lifetime of material to learn and practice. Unlike Barbasetti, however, these three—and rightly—had in mind the needs of both soldier and regimental sword-master. As I have often pointed out, the needs of such fencers are not the same as those who compete or indeed ourselves today.
For a variety of reasons, “HEMA” has formed and embraced an insipid division of sabre into “military” and “dueling” sabre. This is yet another dead horse I need not beat here, yet again…, but briefly the mistake HEMA makes is in believing these are separate categories, even weapons, when sabre is, quite simply, sabre, and had multiple applications. If any additional term is needed, it would be “military,” but this is, honestly, redundant: all sabre was military or existed within a military context.
Barbasetti is one of many proofs that expose this error. Barbasetti was training men, some at least, who might need his skill and tutelage in all three scenarios. He didn’t write books for each, but one book. THIS is why his text is so good—it meets all the needs a sabreur of the time might have. It’s also one reason that Sabre Fencing is so valuable a text for us in historical fencing. It’s a bridge between applications of sabre, but also, a bridge between sabre of the earlier 19th century and sabre of the early 20th century.
NOTES:
[1] Barbasetti, The Art of the Sabre and Epee, 1936, xvii.
[2] For more on Vince, see https://westcoastfencingarchive.com/project/joseph-vince/
[3] See (https://szablyavivas.hu/borsody-laszlo/
[4] Among these competitions were events such as the K.u.k. Armee Fechtturnier, K.u.k. Military Fencing Tournament. The school where I am a student, Barbasetti Military Sabre (since 1895), holds an annual event dedicated to these tournaments and featuring the same classical weapons taught at the K.u.k. Theresian Military Academy in Wiener Neustadt: foil, sabre, and bayonet. It was held alternatively in Wien and Budapest in the years 1898 – 1914. For more information on Barbasetti Military Sabre, see https://www.ars-dimicatoria.cz/en/barbasetti-military-sabre-since-1895-2/
Liancour’s 1686 Le Maitre d’Armes presents a plate with five figures, each of which illustrates core principles of his approach. So far as I am aware, no one to date has pointed out that the descriptions and images for figures four and five are reversed. It is a minor point, perhaps, but important when reconstructing Liancour’s method. Historical fencers rely heavily on text and plates (when the latter are present), but in this case they may be confused and juxtapose these two core actions.
I’ve been meaning to write something up since I returned late Tuesday, but between work and an unexpected veterinarian adventure, I’ve not had time to do this event justice. It was, in a word, amazing, and so much so that I truly hope it becomes a regular event. Patrick Bratton and team put on one hell of a seminar–it was not just the classes, though those were great, but that the setting was apropos and unique, we had behind-the-scenes access to some of the museum, and ample chances to eat, laugh, and get to know one another. Yes, we also fenced, or many did–it was all I could do not to break my doctor’s orders and jump in, but for once I was a grown-up about it (and appropriately as bitter as a toddler told “no”).
By most definitions, I don’t think people would consider me particularly “lucky,” but when it comes to finding myself at truly impressive, informative, and fun events, I’m as rich as Croesus. To the list of favorites–SabreSlash, The St. George’s Day Exhibition of Arms, Rose and Thorns Historical Fencing Symposium–I can now add a fourth, Patrick’s French Fencing weekend. One reason, beyond the obvious draw of all things hoplological or fencing-related, is that it combined three branches of the community: historical, Olympic, and reenactment. The benefits of such cross-over should be obvious, but may not be, so to illustrate this I cite the example of a fascinating chap, Matthew Schlicksup, an artisan of historical footwear currently working at Ft. Ticonderoga in New York.
Historical Artisans
Matthew makes historical footwear, among other period items, and is a master craftsman. Trained in Williamsburg, Virginia, he has made shoes, attended events, and conducted research that most of us might not think about, and, despite the fact we all wear shoes. We take them for granted. Ft. Ligonier, however, has the world’s largest collection of period shoes thanks to the accident of 18th century castoffs and the powers of anaerobic preservation. An archaeologist in initial training, Matthew brings science to his craft, and with impressive results.
This weekend he shared, and wore, his version of the fencing shoes or sandals depicted in de la Touche’s seminal treatise, Le vrays principes de l’espée seule (1670). So, here we are at an historical fencing seminar with a man who makes shoes from the period for that very purpose. This may not seem important, but it is. A few years ago I spent considerable time researching the development of the lunge and this included a look at footwear–would that I had known Matthew then! In discussion with him about de la Touche’s sandal, I learned so much more than I might have, not only about construction, but also about how such shoes function. Put simply, this was a window into period fencing via a single often unconsidered artifact.
Museum
Our host at Ft. Ligonier, Matthew Tristan, was accommodating, supportive, and generous with his time. It was he who gave us the behind-the-scenes tour. It says a lot that he and the foundation were open to having us there: a busy historical site and nuts with swords sounds like an insurance adjustor’s nightmare. With Patrick and others in period dress, and quick to chat with visitors, it went well and we hope added something to the experience. When trusted with the safety of the site and its guests, one wants to do all one can to make it go well, and under Patrick’s excellent leadership this was not even in question. With all the discussion of clubs losing insurance because of unsafe and/or stupid activities, with some unfortunate high-profile legal cases, a win like this is easy to dismiss. We shouldn’t–this was a success and a sign that things can be done correctly.
Classes
In terms of classes, I participated as much as I was able–stupid injury maintenance–but was super keen to see what Justin Aucoin did with the work of Charles Besnard, one of my favorite masters. Justin has long experience with fencing and the SCA, and runs a seriously fantastic class. People loved his classes. I loved his classes. He taught one on Besnard and a second on the bâton à deux bouts or French double-spear in Pascha. I had been looking forward to meeting Justin for some time–Patrick spoke highly of him, I liked what I saw in his videos, and he is a die-hard fan of Dumas and The Three Musketeers, that last fact which immediately endeared him to me.
Justin combines deep knowledge with obvious skill and a passion for his topic. It’s infectuous. Moreover, he works with a diverse student population–always a good sign–and so was quick to suggest work-arounds and ideas to make each thing he covered work for different folks. If he is teaching anything near you or you have the chance to travel to work with him, do.
Bridge-Building
I tend to gravitate towards and work with other folks interested in bridge-building. It’s not just the strengths that collaborative work brings, but the sort of people that go in for it. Among these, I have worked most often outside my immediate surroundings with Patrick. He is, quite honestly, a model coach and advocate for what we do. As a trained teacher (he’s a professor at a college in Pennsylvania), researcher, fencer, and man of eclectic and fascinating interests, from vintage fashion to hunting lore, Patrick perhaps more easily combines disparate strings together to make a viable tapestry.
The historical reenactment group he is involved in, a detachment of mid-18th century French marines, has worked at Ft. Lignonier, among others, before, and it was an ideal location for a look at several late 17th century fencing masters. Some students were in costume, some not, but the addition of period appearance added a lot. Having good relations with the museum staff meant not only a chance to hold the seminar on site, but also see parts of the museum most people do not see. The historian and former archaeologist in me was seriously thrilled about that, but I wasn’t alone.
The only other event that I have attended that combined all these elements so successfully was my mentor Master Michael Knazko and company’s SabreSlash–we had fencers from all walks, reenactors from Krakow (17th Polish hussars), and tours of various sites within Prague relating to fencing (among other historical subjects). In both cases the camaraderie was the finest.
A Model for Future Events
Until recently, until this latest trip actually, I had planned some invitational tournaments. Now, while there may be a tournament element, I am planning to put together something closer to what Patrick and Maestro Knazko have done. It’s a good mix–class for those who like it, some history and other activities (we ate well for example), and some fencing or lessons. It is my hope that Patrick makes this event a regular one–we’ll be lucky if he does.
I have had less time to post thanks to a demanding day-job, but with the return of one of my advanced sabre students I had the joy to teach an individual lesson this morning. As so often happens when we have an hour, we drilled but also had time to explore the whys and hows of aspects of the drill in great detail. This student is a quick study–she is extremely intelligent, athletic, and possesses a solid background in foil, all of which mean she has questions. I like questions.
Coming up, no master I’ve studied under brooked questions during the lesson, but most of these lessons were short, 15 to 20 minutes, 30 depending on how many of us were in attendance. Questions were for after the lesson. My student this morning drives in from the city and we meet half-way–given the distance and the fact we only meet once a week the lessons are longer, usually an hour, and so there is time for discussion. I want to make it worth her while and provide her enough material to practice on her own.
We covered some difficult material this morning, Barbasetti’s counter-prime and counter-quinte (pp. 45-46), and since I am deep into study for my master’s exam, I have had more occasion to think about these in detail. The description of them is brief as they assume the reader either has a working knowledge of them, is studying to become a master, or is working with a coach as well as reading the text. [1]
To dive straight into these useful but rarely covered techniques, even for an advanced student, is unwise. It is better to lead up to them, to show one’s math as it were, and so our warm-up consisted of exploring simple parry-ripostes in each line. Next, we examined two of the circular parries, “counter-parries” in Barbasetti, namely counters of tierce and quarte. We had not covered these for a while, so it was good drill. Once we added movement, things changed, and this afforded me a chance to introduce counter-quinte and counter-prime.
The Master’s words explain them better than I can:
The key aspects to note at the start are first that one employs these measures at close distance, often while while still in the lunge. Second, they work best advancing, which means a recovery forward into guard as one executes the counter. As I explained to my student, these two measures are sort of in between static, simple parries, and parries via molinello. They are, however, “active” parries, more cuts into the riposte than blocks.
My student asked me why we would use circular parries or these two counters. Excellent questions. Again, the master has an answer, but one I might expand upon a bit. Barbasetti wrote
But why not employ simple parries, since the counter-parries offer so many difficulties?
The object of these two parries is to put you in an advantageous position for the defense by means of unexpected movements.
The regular study of these parries trains your mechanism to such an extent that all complicated movements afterward seem easy to perform. [p. 46]
These are important considerations. Maestro Couturier made a similar point, as did his assistant Brian Peña, when I asked about some seriously complicated drills they had us do, ones with multiple feints, change beats, everything. It was, as I now say too, “medicine for the hand,” meaning that drilling complicated actions helps sharpen simpler ones. When I asked Brian when I would use this set of actions, he said “Oh, you wouldn’t; that isn’t why we do this type of drill.” Looking back on it, that was a key moment for me in my development as a fencer, one of those times were I realized just how much more to fencing there is than technique or actions.
It is the same here. Barbasetti also remarks that these counter parries improve our simple ones. He adds, however, that they can be “unexpected movements,” which is to say options when simple parries aren’t working and/or tactical choices. For example, if my opponent feints to my inside line and I parry quarte initiating their disengage, the simplest response is to return to tierce. Let’s say I do that twice during a bout. My opponent, if I’m lucky, believes that this is my response–if I have made that action on purpose to set them up (a species of second intention), I will surprise them when the third time I used the counter-parry of quarte.
It was a good lesson, one that generated considerable discussion about the actions themselves, but also and significantly putting them to work in real time. One of our primary goals is not to be hit at all versus considerations of right-of-way, so exploring how to make counter-parry-ripostes and use counter-prime or quinte and avoid being hit made for specific choices in terms of both the line the riposte would take as well as considerations of footwork. Though we do not read about it much in the Radaellian corpus, traverse steps, off-line footwork is implicit in the system. Sure, the intagliata and inquartata were and are standard subjects in Italian fencing, but there are options akin to them we can employ too. [2]
Much of what we covered today is material I’ve taught countless times at this point, but what stood out to me, and the reason for writing this post, is how much better the lesson went today because of my current study. At least as early as Fiore dei Liberi (fl. 1400) masters have advocated adding the study of treatises in one’s training, and today reminded me of the value in doing so. Because I teach historical fencing, I most often work from texts, but my study of Barbasetti is, in many ways, closer because I have to be able to answer, best I can, anything my masters in Prague ask me. [3]
Continuing education, study, is not just for exams. It’s something we should do all the time, forever, as long as we fence and teach. One of today’s lessons, for me, was to take this same granularity of study and apply it each week. This means spending more time pondering, examining, and experimenting with the ideas, techniques, and actions in all that I am teaching, from sabre to smallsword, from rapier to bayonet. Doing this, taking it all apart and examining it before putting it back together, increases understanding and lends depth to our approach. It will make us better coaches, and, better fencers.
NOTES:
[1] Barbasetti, The Art of the Sabre and Epee, 1936, xvii explains that his book is a guide for preparing masters, for masters whose training may have been incomplete, and for fencers who wish to understand better what they’re learning.
[2] Often-line footwork, such as traverse steps, is a commonplace in works on Insular broadsword, but I’d argue that the same footwork is useful for sabre. In the video series I am putting together on Master Barbasetti’s sabre methodology, I will explore examples.
[3] We have not yet set a date, by my mentor at Barbasetti Military Sabre (since 1895), Maestro Michael Kňažko, as well as his colleagues Masters Leonid Křížek, Michal Kostka, and Josef Šolc possess deep knowledge and decades upon decades of experience, and the nature of a master’s exam, both the written or oral exam as well as the practical one, are open to anything they should choose. It is a daunting, and at times I’ll admit it terrifying, experience, but one I look forward to. Pass or fail it will be valuable and I shall learn a lot and become a better coach. Should I pass (there are no guarantees with such exams), in truth the journey really only begins. I look at it the same way my elder son’s TKD master put it to him when he passed his black belt exam–“Now you’re ready to start learning.”
I had the great pleasure to visit old friends and make new ones a few weekends ago in Winnipeg, Canada, at the Historical Fencing Coaches Clinic sponsored by Storica Defensa. I’ve been to a fair number of coaching clinics, many Olympic, far fewer historical, but this one stood out, and no, not just because I am a Storica Defensa coach. This two-day event showed what is possible, and, perhaps a better path than typical in historical fencing.
In part, it was the mix of coaches, both in terms of experience and position, and in terms of background and focus. We had two masters from the excellent Sonoma Military Masters’ Program, David Coblentz and Eric Myers; we had Prevot Tim Guerinot from Texas; and we had two of our SD coaches, Xian Niles and myself, representing our organization. If I had any complaint it was that time demanded we have two classes run at once–I really wanted to take each one, start to finish. Even recovering from RSV and nursing a damaged Achilles’ tendon, which meant I wasn’t fencing, didn’t allow me enough time to devote to each class as they were running.
It’s all in the Details
Granularity. This was the leitmotif of the event. With many attempts in historical circles to improve fencing, from judging to technique, what’s missing is granularity, the specifics, all the step-by-step movement and thought behind all that we do. Much as it pains me to say it, this is often due to the fact that those teaching possess only a surface understanding of what it is they’re trying to teach. To the untrained eye, for example, a cut-1 in broadsword or a disengage in smallsword look simple enough, but to make either well and with consistent effectiveness demands deeper understanding, at least if one is facing an opponent better than oneself who will take one apart for the slightest mistake.
Despite the triumph of ignorance now prevailing in my nation (what sensible nation keen for equality dismantles the very agency designed to oversee that?), education and learning are difficult. The moronic maxim “those who can’t, teach,” underscores just how poorly people understand how difficult teaching is.
A lot of people can: but few can teach.
There is also great merit in incorporating different teaching and learning styles. Not everyone learns the same way, not everyone teaches a topic the same way. To have classically trained masters as well as people more on the coaching side only strengthens the approach, especially if well-organized.
The Classes
Space and reader patience doesn’t allow for a full description of the classes, but here are the topics:
SAT
9am
Maestro Eric Myers: “Better Fencing through using and Exploiting Fundamental Concepts of Fencing, Part 1.”
Coach Xian Niles: Strategos
11am
Maestro David Coblentz, “Setting up Students for Success”
Prevot Tim Guerinot, “Intention, Provocation, and Second Intention”
2pm
Coach Jim Emmons, “Text & Technique–From Description to Practice”
SUN
9am
Maestro Eric Myers: “Better Fencing through using and Exploiting Fundamental Concepts of Fencing, Part 2”
Prevot Tim Guerinot, “Intention, Provocation, and Second Intention, Part 2”
11am
Maestro David Coblentz, “Helping Students make Good Decisions”
Coach Xian Niles, “Am I still Doing the Thing?”
2pm
Coach Jim Emmons, “Concluding Remarks” [1]
The success of this year’s event has encouraged us to make this happen again, and if possible, often. We haven’t settled on a yearly or biannual schedule, but one way or another, the value of this type of meet-up was obvious in the marked-improvement in the attendees even over two days.
Why this Matters
Historical fencing is not so much a community as it is a collection of micro-communities, and so when it comes to any future forecasting there must be some qualification. I cannot speak to 99% of the community–I work with a small fraction of it. This said, for that sliver of the pie, I have some ideas for where it looks like we are headed.
SD, because it doesn’t seek ownership or control, will continue to reach out to recognized authorities for help in improving coaching and fencing. Many of these people may hold a master of arms, many will not. Expertise comes in different forms, and the ability to recognize that, and harness it, is what makes an organization like Storica Defensa both flexible and strong. Moreover, some fencers respond better to certain teaching styles, and since our goal is student and coach success, this means including any skilled fencer with sufficient depth and knowledge to assist us.
Not everyone cares about qualifications. Worse, many ascribe the wrong set of rubrics to what they call qualifications. Again, this is not just my sorrow and frustration over the anti-expert and anti-intellectualism so pervasive in the United States–it is painful and terrifying watching how this anti-expertise idiocy is helping destroy the nation we were and might yet have been to create a plutocrat’s playground.
It is also a known fact within “HEMA” that many favor things like “HEMA Ratings” or the over-confidence of play-acting scholars. They can do whatever they like, but few such people will get an invite to help us, because failure to understand the relative nature of tourney success and aping actual scholars only takes one so far, and, not as far as we wish to go.
This said, there is a LOT of talent in the wider community, but few truly effective means of harnessing it. Different foci, geographical distance, jealousy, arrogance, and even the innocent failure to understand that there is more to all this than one sees do much to prevent not only better unity, but also the sort of improvement we see in better developed branches of fencing, Olympic most of all. THIS is why my comrades to the north created Storica Defensa–we need it.
As a final word, but an important one, it is vital to note that SD is not a vanity project, certificate factory, or attempt to overthrow any other viable and worthy program. Over time, as people see the events we put on, as they see how we run tournaments, how we approach teaching; as they see how their coaching improves, how their students improve; as they see the caliber of fencer we ask for help, as they see the maestri and other experts we have asked to oversee and guide SD; all of these things will be the proof of that. [2]
There has been, sadly, considerable suspicion around what we are trying to do, and I’m happy to say none of it has any foundation. We’re literally doing what we say we are doing. It says a lot, and little of it positive, that such suspicion so naturally arose around an honest effort to make things better. In some cases, personal beef with one or more organizers, fear, and concern for turf explains these concerns, but I suspect a lot of it too is just curiosity poorly expressed.
I know I speak for all of SD’s organizers and coaches when I say this, but let me assure you that
We are, though, doing the following:
NOTES:
[1] I had a class prepared for the afternoon slot on Sunday, but one part of teaching is reading a room. People were fried. At least one person, no kidding, was on a knee, head on their hand, looking like they needed a nap. There was also nothing in what I had planned to do that had not already been covered in depth by the other coaches.
So, I opted to scrap my class and sum up–this included a very brief reminder of how we can approach a given technique, in this case a beat attack, and build not only possibilities from it technique-wise, but also tactically. I could tell from peoples’ faces that they were a little confused that I had scrapped my class, but I lack sufficient vanity to put tired, mentally exhausted people through another in-depth class when what they really want to do is relax, free bout, or hit up our guest coaches for lessons. And, it turned out, that Javier, one of our attendees from Calgary, was celebrating his birthday that Sunday and wanted birthday bouts.
I never really know how well or poorly a class goes–few people offer a lot of feedback–but I stand by the decision.
[2] SD has approached and enlisted the help of several well-respected, certified experts to assist us as we grow. We have the honor to have the experience, knowledge, and guidance of:
Maestro Michael Knazko, Ars Dimicatoria/Barbasetti Military Sabre since 1895, Prague, Czechia, EU [Chief Advisor to SD]
Maestro Francesco Loda, PhD (x2), Cinecittà-RFA-UniTeramo, Rome, Italy, EU [Advisor]
Maitre Steve Symons, former President and CEO of the Canadian Fencing Federation (2004-2012), Winnipeg, Canada [Advisor]
[21 Feb. 2025]
Senese, Alessando. The True Use of the Sword. Bologna, IT: Herede di Vittorio Benacci, 1660. Translated by Christoper A. Holzman, 2025, Lulu Press.
Though a fencing text long-dismissed as poorer than most (Iacopo Gelli referred to it as “a work of limited fencing value”), Senese’s True Use of the Sword, despite its flaws, nonetheless contains considerable value. Not only does it contain some useful insights into the Art, but it also contains contemporary concerns that resonate today within the historical fencing community. Beyond this, while the True Use of the Sword will frustrate readers keen for detailed explanations of individual techniques or actions, it is surprisingly insightful with regard to combat psychology and preparedness, as well as some of the deeper truths that arise after long study of the Art.
I had the pleasure to assist Christopher Holzman with the Latin portions of this translation, and came to understand his doubts about it in the process. [n] Most of the works that Chris has translated into English, to date, have been stand-out treatments in one way or another. Marcelli, Rosaroll & Grisetti, and Del Frate are major works within the Italian fencing tradition; even less significant works, such as Terracusa e Ventua’s True Neapolitan Fencing is important for what it reveals about the survival of the Neapolitan system, and, as one of the only Italian works on fencing from the 18th century.
Senese’s text, in contrast, is a curious book. As with his previous work, Chris does his best to stay as close as one can to the original phrasing and vocabulary, a particularly daunting task when the original author was not, to put it mildly, a great writer. If anything, Chris has improved the readability of the original, an impressive feat given the sometimes-convoluted modes of expression Senese favored. Footnotes, courtesy of Chris, will help explain some of the terms and clarify some of the denser explanations the author offered.
Organization
The book is organized around Senese’s chief tenets for fencing. There is considerable front-matter, mostly dedicatory, and much of it in Latin. Senese informs the reader in a short epilogue that a friend provided the florid Latin encomia to Charles Ferdinand, Archduke of Further Austria (d. 1662) and the Latin summary in the last part of the book. The initial dedication appears in Latin and Italian, but is followed by an ode, an epigram, and a distichon, all in Latin.
For students of history and early modern literature, the inclusion of the seven liberal arts to frame the ode will be unsurprising, but the ways in which Senese (or his friend) link each one to aspects of fencing is perhaps novel. The epigram is rich in classical imagery and in a way echoes the use of the liberal arts in the ode, though here the author enumerates his specific concepts of fencing and their value.
A note to the reader follows and in it Senese explains his position:
The art of using the sword for the defense of one’s body is the true art; not that which is commonly practiced in the schools and taught by the professors, let alone those particular blows that I read from the writers; but for that which the most famous swords of my country already practiced, and for those precepts that I offer to you to read in this present work.
The true art is that which offers a determined end to be infallibly obtained with the exact observance of its precepts.
The letter to the reader informs what follows in his rules; it is the why to his how, as it were, and beyond that gives at least one master’s view of his contemporaries. Fencing treatises were often resumes of a sort, and naturally Senese ‘s poor opinion of the efforts of all other masters was meant to push himself forward, but at the same time some of what he says was also true. This is not to say that one could make oneself unbeatable or invincible, nice as that would be, but that there were issues within many schools that led their students to losses, even death, when it mattered. Senese was hardly alone in such complaints.
The first few chapters define terms and provide key explanations of his ideas. Chapter 2, for example, explores what Senese calls “the long game,” what we would today call working from critical distance versus fighting in distance. The next chapter takes up “weight,” what we would call “guard” or the guard position today. Like many 17th, even 18th century works, Senese wanted the weight on the rear leg (cf. Besnard, Marcelli, Girard, etc.). Measure and its navigation, motion and movement, line, perspective, finding the sword, and what he calls “the indivisible tempo” follow.
His chapters on the “true wound” and “true parries” reveal a far more conservative approach to defense than that of many of his contemporaries. It is not that other masters failed to take this perspective, but that they less consciously call out the issues and problems around them. This perspective is one of the chief attractions to The True Use of the Sword: it is less a book on fencing than it is a book on how to approach actual fighting with a sword.
Chapter 11, on the feints, is likely to excite the simple-minded and kindle useless debate and discussion in some circles of historical fencing, but nothing he says there is untoward. Readers who stop at the first line, however, will miss the point. The feint, to be effective, must appear to be a credible threat and not, as he remarks, motions that are basically probing actions. A proper feint forces the opponent to parry. Cuts, the subject of Chapter 12, will read a bit differently from some masters, too. In Senese’s view, cuts are used in two instances: as a riposte or as an attack. An obvious point, but one he makes as a way to attack those who use cuts poorly. The example he gives, a feint to the face to draw the parry, and then a cut to the torso or leg, illustrates his meaning. Here, as in most places, Senese reminds us that measure, timing, etc. must be correct as well.
Of particular interest is his chapter (Chapter 13) on the use of the sword alone against someone using sword and dagger. Much of what Senese says here provides a window into the thinking that typifies “transitional rapier” and ultimately, smallsword. For Senese, if one relies on a dagger for defense, one is handicapped. In this he is not wrong, but he was not alone in stating this either. Marcelli, among others, covered the sword alone first for a reason. In Senese what we see is a 17th century master attacking common problems of the day—this is important, because we have a tendency to think fencers were “better” in the past, that masters were as effective at fighting as they were in teaching, and in putting forth their own views it can be easy to miss the reality. Then as now some were better teachers, more effective fighters, than others.
Chapter 14 provides a brief summary of his key tenets; chapter 15 the key faults in poor fencers.
The remaining portions of the book, the first on “the necessary and infallible rules of the proper handling of the sword” and the second on “a figure explaining the theory of a would to the opponent’s left,” were written in Latin. The rules, via fourteen individual sections, repeat, again, the principles by which Senese teaches the Art. The explanation of the figure is rough reading, but will prove useful for the patient reader who takes the time to explore it in space.
Significance
Unlike most works of the time, Senese does not include detailed descriptions of technique or list a multitude of various actions. He states, then repeats, a set of guidelines that should inform how one uses the repertoire of fencing. By analogy, Senese is more akin to Zbigniew Czajkowski’s Understanding Fencing than he is Gaugler’s Science of Fencing. For example, Senese states that anyone who wishes to teach the sword professionally must be able to “operate respectively in four cases:” in courteous bouts for amusement and as exhibition; effectively in bouts where they demonstrate their superior skill against strangers; in actual fights where harm or death are possible; and in those cases where the teacher is out in the world in difficult terrain. The reason is that
In each of these four cases, the person must have meditated and prepared what he must do, because he has to operate differently in each of the aforementioned ways, since it takes more than knowing how to put oneself in beautiful perspective on guard and performing a pretty thrust to the target, however, the perceived opinion of the common people against the professors is now wonder.
The True Use of the Sword contains many such asides that highlight different cultural attitudes. For another example, Senese is quick to call out those untutored but nonetheless teaching, a problem that resonates all the more now:
they remain blind and learn all that can be learned in six months, which has nothing to do with the perfect science that is learned with effort and not in months but in years. So, sparing the effort, they also spare the science…
Therefore, take it as the most certain vanity every time that someone will be persuaded to want to teach this profession in a short time, or rather, some particular blows, because he will really teach being killed by some hasty, bestial ignoramus.
In like vein, Senese laments the common incidence of the incontro, or double, in bouts and duels of his time. Today’s historical fencers—for sometimes different reasons—wrestle with the same problem. One explanation as valid then as now is that
many fencers with a singular and artful game who, having arrived so that they are at a certain mark, stop themselves there as if no more remains for them to learn and in the occasions they remain either confused or doubtful and they always have questions to ask according to the diversity of encounters, a sign that they lack the true rule that resolves all the questions and hinders all the vanity.
Tourney-“HEMA,” for example, is rife with fencers rushing to measure and doubling; some even game doubling just as their Olympic cousins do. All of this is to say that Senese demonstrates that nothing is new and that the problems we see now are merely the same issues in different costume.
This text, however, is not without practical advice for given situations. Sense, wisely, recommends that the “most secure” wound is one that follows a parry. He reminds us that in seeking another’s blade we should only do so when it is out straight before us. Read together with other fencing treatises of the time is perhaps the best way to read Senese. At the very least, having read him, a fencer will read Giganti, Pallavicini, and Marcelli with a better grasp of the larger picture informing their respective approaches.
Do not read Senese for technique—this will be a disappointment. Read Senese first for the view it gives one of 17th century fencing culture. Second, read Senese for the sound tactical advice he shares, advice that in this reviewer’s opinion would do much to improve historical fencing today. His defensive mindset, his abhorrence of the double, and his wisdom in advocating that one does best who fences as if the swords where “white” (i.e. sharp) rather than “black” (practice weapons) is as sound now as it was in 1660.
[n] My close friend and colleague, Dr. Antone Minard (Simon Fraser University & UBC), and I had the pleasure to manage the Latin portions.
Capitale Escrime Historical Fencing 