HEMA Training – Page 3 – Capitale Escrime Historical Fencing

Old Wine in New Bottles: Fencing Theory and Interpretation

passing attack from _The Art of Fencing_ 1730

The much-maligned maestro, Nick Evangelista, turned a phrase that I have long used, “the logic of the sharp point.” [1] For anyone interested in fencing as more than an elaborate game of tag in unfortunate polyester uniforms, the logic of the sharp point should guide all they do. In short, this logic boils down to one idea:

If attacked, defend

When we don’t envision that point as sharp, we make poor choices—most doubles and the obsession with the after-blow stem from misunderstanding or misapplication of this logic. Why is it that in historical fencing, supposedly keen for fostering “realism,” we see such a gap between theory and practice? In short, the divergence stems from failure to learn and apply the most basic tenets of fencing theory. The reason for that is simple: too many historical fencers refuse to examine what modern fencing has to teach them.

This is a topic I’ve spent a lot of time on, but when a problem persists, we keep at it or quit. One fact I must accept, however, is that no matter how much time I or anyone spend on this, no matter how much evidence or analysis we throw at things, it won’t matter to most people in “HEMA.” There is daily proof of this, but there is also precedent: similar issues plagued the Olympic fencing world in the 1990s and early 2000s and then as now most people didn’t care. That doesn’t make them right. Their discomfort with a truth in no way changes the fact of that truth. I will argue until I’m worm-food that one should extend on a thrust, that the flat of the sabre shouldn’t score, and that off-target is, ultimately, illogical.

In like manner, not to avail oneself of modern fencing theory is to hobble our efforts at understanding fencing of the past. Modern theory was not created in a vacuum—it is the product of quite literally centuries of work. As always, one must distinguish between theory and how that theory is applied or misapplied. They are separate things.

For a quick example, applying right of way (ROW) to sabre, in theory, is sensible. ROW, in its way, attempts to enforce the logic of the sharp point, but being a game, a sport, this rule is less doctrinaire than it is for historical fencers. Historical fencers balk that ROW allows consideration of off target, and that one may win the point but still be hit. However, despite those aspects, despite the tyranny of electric scoring, the rule states that an attack should be dealt with, not just reacted to via counterattack out of time. One should defend if attacked—that is basic logic, the point, really, of fencing, defense. Thus, the ruling idea is sound, but how that rule is abused and interpreted is a mess.

Case Study: Passing Attacks

In one of the most recent and unfortunate fracases on social media, over a specific type of attack [see the post 13 August 2023, “Shadows in Caves,” https://saladellatrespade.com/2023/08/13/shadows-in-caves/], we have another example of the perils of interpretation. As I stated in an earlier post, part of it vested interest in maintaining a perceived status within the community, part of the problem was vocabulary, and partly it was a failure to understand how the sources and modern theory intersect. I’m fed to the teeth criticizing the all-consuming horror that ego plays in all this, so this post will instead focus on terms and misapplication of theory.

One mistake that people are making is equating a modern version of a species of attack for one of the same class from the past. It might help to illustrate how the terms relate. “Passing attacks” comprise a category of attacks where the rear foot passes the lead foot. Just how one does this changes. The terms and description vary as well. For two examples, we have the lunge made on the pass in de la Touche (1670), his “thrust of the pass” (l’estocade de passe), his “the finished pass” (la passe finie), and the modern flèche. [2]

de la Touche, 1670; the fencer on the right is making a thrust of the pass

No one in de la Touche’s time called any passing attack I’m aware of a “flèche.” Those quick to decry the use of a “flèche” in a recent Canadian tournament cite the use of a passing attack as modern and anachronistic, and thus out of keeping with period practice. It’s important to break down the attack, and criticism, to see if this criticism holds.

I’ve selected de la Touche in part because detractors have cited him for proof, but also because de la Touche did a fantastic job of explaining many aspects of technique. He was not the only one to include thrusts of the pass, but he is a good example. [3] The section on his thrust of the pass is long, thorough, and informative. In speaking of thrusts generally, de la Touche reminds us that one should be careful to aim for the most uncovered section of target, and, that one must thrust with conviction, that one should let oneself “go and extend as much as you can, so that the action has more force and swiftness of reach.” [4] I note this because swiftness, speed, is a critical consideration, one detractors downplay.

The master observes that one’s reach is longer with the thrust of the pass, and thus that the measure is larger so it requires more time to make. This is a crucial point. If one can hit with a thrust of the firm foot, then one shouldn’t use the thrust of the pass, unless one was initially aiming for the arm and decides to go for the body. It is particularly useful if the opponent is breaking measure (retreating) and if one wishes to surprise the adversary. Most importantly, one must accustom oneself to “execute the thrust of the pass with great swiftness, in order to compensate for the length of the action by the promptness of the execution.” [5]

Important to note, and a point in favor of the critics, de la Touche’s thrust of the pass assumes that the lead foot does not move. One advances the weapon, arm, body, and rear foot, but the front foot remains in place. [98] However, in the next section, De la Passe finie, “Of the Finished Pass,” de la Touche remarks that

The finished pass is an action by which, commanding the weak of the enemy’s sword with the forte of one’s own, one advances the foot which is behind the other in order to take the enemy in the body or to seize the sword to strike or snatch it.

La Passe finie es une action, par laquelle en dominant le foible de l’Espee de l’ennemy du fort de la vostre, on avance le pied qui se trouve derriere devant l’autre, a dessin deprendre l’ennemy au corps, ou de luy faisir l’Espee pour le frapper, ou pour luy arracher. [6]

De la Touche discusses this action, of moving the rear foot past the front, within the context of weapon-seizures. Such seizures are, as he observes, incredibly dangerous and chancy, especially if attempted when attacking (he is less uncomfortable with such seizures when defending). [7] One question arising from this is whether or not the master recommended this passing step only for weapon seizures. In answering this question one must interpret since de la Touche is not specific. How best to do that?

First, we must examine the action in the context in which the master shares it. It makes sense to include this passing step in a section relating to seizing the weapon as the distance one must travel is, arguably, longer than it is when lunging or lunging on the pass. Of note, this step is more connected to attempting a seizure when attacking than defending, as ostensibly the opponent is either standing firm-footed or breaking measure to defend.

Second, we must compare the advice in this passage with the rest of his work, with the general timbre of his approach. This is, granted, where we enter the world of conjecture. Thus, it is all the more important to work from the text, not just one passage or section. We must apply logic to any such comparison; it is, really, the only way to avoid the more obvious pitfalls, such as selecting only what supports our point of view or cherry-picking.

Whenever evidence works against us, we must deal with it honestly. In this case, the thrust of the pass itself does not appear to include moving the front foot from its place. De la Touche makes this clear. Those unhappy with the attack my friend and colleague made at An Cruinneachadh this past month are not incorrect about that. [8] However, I believe they are on far less firm ground if they suggest that the finished pass, that is a pass where both feet move, is only advisable when attempting a weapon seizure. Yes, that is the section in which it appears, but on its own that doesn’t make for a strong case. De la Touche covers the lunge in one section too, but one assumes that he wants one to use it whenever applicable.

Herein lies the crux of the problem—applicability. What follows is my take, my interpretation of de la Touche, and I will be the first to admit it is more spirit than letter of the law. I have reasons for that—we do our best to conform to what a text says, but we must remember the purpose of a source. De la Touche was concerned first and foremost with effective fencing. The goal, quite literally, was to strike and hopefully not be struck as one did so, because failure meant injury or death. If that was the goal, then slavish attention to any action makes little sense. Put another way, if one attempts a thrust of the pass, but the opponent retreats slightly more, one can either break off the attack, or, continue it (assuming the same elements of surprise and safety) by moving that immobile front foot. Fencers make different choices depending on the situation; technique, ultimately, backs up tactics, not the other way around. The attacker is at risk regardless—should they continue an already long attack, they increase the chance of failure, but should they recover needlessly just to follow the letter of the law they may create an opportunity for the adversary to attack in their turn.

In my reading, what Jay used in that match follows the logic of the finished pass and the thrust of the pass. Both fencers were working measure, but Jay launched his attack (about :07/:08 seconds in the video on fb) as his opponent (the chap in green) was in negative balance, as he was just about to initiate an action. Jay threw his arm and body forward, a la the thrust of the pass, but then crossed his feet a la finished pass in order to reach his now retreating opponent. Nothing in this action is out of keeping with what we read in de la Touche.

In fact, Jay used the proper speed to execute this attack successfully, an aspect de la Touche was quick to point out. Judging by both video of their fencing and from what I have observed on my own in person, many of Jay’s detractors do not employ speed in their own fencing, and one fears that they may not realize its importance. No attack made from just out of distance will succeed without it.

But his Fleche!

Now, what is the modern, well, 20^th century flèche? It depends upon how one defines it. Generally, in French fencing, the fleche is a “running attack,” but in this can be further explained as Gaugler put it, as “a running attack executed following a loss of balance by an exaggerated forward displacement of the center of gravity.” [9] Maitre Robert Handleman provides a fuller description:

Flèche: an accelerating offensive footwork progression that may start from on guard with a rapid extension of the arm and back leg which causes the body to lean forward and become unbalanced. The front leg then releases like a coiled spring causing the fencer to leap or run forward. The rear leg comes forward to land first, in a running-like movement; the hit should arrive as the legs cross or before. The flèche is used in foil and epee and may be delivered at any distance but is most effective as a surprise in shorter or medium distance. Another variation includes bringing the front foot towards the rear to shift the balance forward and then a rapid extension of the arm in the attack and a forward drive off the front leg. [10]

Handleman’s work was published in 2014, the flèche outlawed for sabre in 1994, but older works discuss the use of the attack in all three weapons. The flèche is still legal in modern foil and epee competitions.

So, did Jay flèche? Yes and no. Yes, he made a running attack, and going by just one definition, Gaugler’s above, we can call it a flèche. However, nothing in that action was out of keeping with what de la Touche, among others, described in their coverage of passing attacks. So where does that leave us?

Old Bottles, New Wine

Often in historical examinations we employ the simple tools of comparison and contrast. Examining patterns of what is similar, what different, we can unpack a source and see relationships, connections, and with further analysis, reach conclusions about what we are studying. In some cases, one type of comparison may reveal more to us. As a related example, from the study of myth, Joseph Campbell’s The Hero with a Thousand Faces does a great job of finding cross-cultural similarities in what he called the “monomyth,” but his study is only so useful because he did not, and did not intend, to examine the differences in how this motif was or is used. A hero’s motivations, for example, may be vastly different even if the narrative construct is similar; those differences will be far more revealing about cultural values than similarities.

In contrast, the situation here is one where similarities should help make sense of the sources, but which do not thanks to bias. Prejudice against the “new wine” of modern fencing, an outgrowth of the reactionary period in which modern historical fencing was born, has persisted and continues to affect how those suffering this bias view the “old bottles” that are period sources. The flèche as they see it is an artifact of modern, 20^th century fencing, not that particular century’s version of an old and time-worn attack. Why? Because in their view nothing modern is legitimate.

In fairness to his critics, if one places a photo from mid-century where a fencer is nearly horizontal in the air as they flèche, and then a plate from de la Touche side by side, then the differences are obvious. It’s clear these are not exactly the same, but they’re not the same in execution, and it should be easy to see why: the contexts are different.

This has been obvious to other scholars of fencing. Morton’s A-Z of Fencing contains a lengthy entry on the flèche as well as one for the pass which, so Morton states, was an older method of movement, and, one in which the lead foot might, if necessary, move as well. [11] As a last example, Nick Evangelista, in defining the flèche, echoes the same cautions as de la Touche, reminds the reader it is best used sparingly and as a surprise, and most importantly, that “the pass on avant of the eighteenth century is considered the forerunner of the flèche as it is practiced in modern times.” [12] These writers see continuity as well as change, versus change alone, and with good reason. No aspect of modern theory was created ex nihil—all of it is built on precedent.

De la Touche on more than one occasion is at pains to warn the reader against actions that will get them hurt, because in 1670 people were using swords and intended harm with them. No one of sound mind is fencing in that context today—realistic as we may wish to be, we do this for fun, not because our lives may depend on it; we fence with friends, not people keen to kill us; we use safer trainers and wear safety equipment, not a simple shirt or the lack of one. In contrast, fencers using the flèche in Olympic fencing, and especially in sabre in the late 1990s, not only had no fear since they were going for points, but especially in the case of the latter could stretch the action to ridiculous lengths to game the system. Indeed, so abused was the flèche that they outlawed crossing the legs in sabre.

Wine is Wine, Old Bottle or New

In the sitcom “Schitt’s Creek,” one of the main characters, David Rose, explains his sexual outlook to Stevie, a woman who works at the hotel where he is staying, and with whom he had hooked up:

Stevie Budd : So, just to be clear, um… I’m a red wine drinker.

David Rose : That’s fine.

Stevie Budd : Okay, cool. But, uh, I only drink red wine.

David Rose : Okay.

Stevie Budd : And up until last night, I was under the impression that you too only drank red wine. But I guess I was wrong?

David Rose : [nods knowingly] I see where you’re going with this. Um… I do drink red wine. But I also drink white wine.

Stevie Budd : Oh.

David Rose : And I’ve been known to sample the occasional rosé. And a couple summers back, I tried a merlot that used to be a chardonnay…

Stevie Budd : Uh… okay.

David Rose : …which got a bit complicated.

Stevie Budd : Yeah, so… you’re just really open to all wines.

David Rose : I like the wine and not the label. Does that make sense?

Stevie Budd : [smiles] Yes. That does. [13]

In addition to being a wonderful way to explain pansexuality, I see an analogy in re fencing theory. Fencing is, ultimately, fencing, and it is either effective or not. Contexts, purposes, equipment, and ethos all change, but should one lay out the better modern works on fencing side by side with those from the past the kinship becomes absolutely clear. Yes, there are differences, and in historical fencing in particular to ignore those differences makes what we do ridiculous. However, it’s double-edged—to ignore what modern theory provides any fencer, especially those attempting to interpret past sources for the Art, is to handicap one so terribly that the interpretation too easily becomes something other than what it should be, fencing. A prime example, which I’ve covered in other contexts, is the abject devotion to the images in the Bolognese corpus which produce versions of fencing more graceful than effective. [14] The desire to make “sidesword” different obscures the fact it was a cut and thrust weapon, and, that cut and thrust weapons existed before and after the 15^th century. If pose becomes more important than purpose, one has lost one’s way.

The logic of the criticism used against the passing attack Jay used at An Cruinneachadh is faulty. The operating assumption is that anything that looks like a flèche, or indeed may be one, is automatically illegitimate and anachronistic. That doesn’t follow. One can make a fair case that the passing attack Jay employed abided all the cautions and guidelines that masters like de la Touche put forth, and as such, should not be classified as some aberration. [15]

NOTES:

[1] Nick Evangelista, “When Classical Fencing Goes Bad,” The Evangelista School of Fencing, 20 April 2014, https://www.evangelistafencing.com/blog/2014/4/20/9swnz7n7n709uvg9cko2hkh5a1h3n5

[2] Philibert, Sieur de la Touche, Les vrais principes de l’Espée seule, 1670, 66 (plate just before page 65); see also Reinier van Noort and Antoine Coudre, The True Principles of the Single Sword, Glasgow, UK: Fallen Rook Publishing, 2016, 88ff.

[3] For other examples, among others, see de Liancour’s passes to the inside and outside p. 24ff in Le maître des armes (1696), Girard’s pass of quarte p. 71ff Traité des armes (1740), and Angelo’s pass in carte over the arm p. 62 The School of Fencing (1787). Of note, many works cover passing steps in connection with weapon-seizures.

[4] Van Noort and Coudre, The True Principles of the Single Sword, 90.

[5] Ibid., 100.

[6] de la Touche, Les vrais principes de l’Espée seule, 75; cf. Van Noort and Coudre, The True Principles of the Single Sword, 108. I translated this passage myself, so it differs from that of van Noort and Coudre.

[7] de la Touche, Les vrais principes de l’Espée seule, 75-78; cf. Van Noort and Coudre, The True Principles of the Single Sword, 108-109.

[8] For the bout in question, see https://www.facebook.com/groups/261251458841817/permalink/835017504798540/?ref=share&mibextid=NSMWBT

[9] Willam M. Gaugler, A Dictionary of Universally used Fencing Terminology, Bangore, ME: Laureate Press, 1997, 34.

[10] Rob Handelman and Connie Louie, Fencing Foil: A Practical Training Guide for Coaches, Parents and Young Athletes, San Francisco, CA: Pattinando Publishing, 2014, 444.

[11] E.D. Morton, Martini A-Z of Fencing, London, UK: Antler Books, 1990, 67; for the pass, see 132-133.

[12] Nick Evangelista, The Encyclopedia of the Sword, Westport, CT: Greenwood Press, 1995. 250. Queen City Classical Fencing’s glossary, supplies

passe avant [Fr., “pass forward”]: a step in which, from the en garde position, the fencer places his rear foot in front of the lead foot and the latter is immediately replaced forward, returning the fencer to the en garde position. [https://queencityclassicalfencing.com/fencing-terms/#p]

Important to note, the terms for passing attacks varied. Hope, for example, referred to the “true-pass” and the “half-pass:”

According to the Rules, a True-Pass is a running Motion, which a Man makes bye his Adversary’s Right-Side, in the time he is performing his Thrust against him; whereas a Thrust is commonly delivered with a close and fixed Left-foot. ‘Tis true, both of them terminat in a Thrust; but there is this Difference, that in all Thrusts wherein the different Lessons terminat, the Left-Foot is generally kept fixed; whereas Passing is performed, as I said, but a running Motion, the Body stooping forewards and the Thrust delivered, just as a Man is passing bye his Adversary’s Right-Side.

[Sir William Hope, A New, Short, and Easy Method of Fencing, Edinburgh, 1707, 136-138]

[13] This quotation was obtained from IMDB, https://www.imdb.com/title/tt3653932/characters/nm2391794

[14] 10 June: Lecture Transcript: “Prance or Pounce? Interpreting Images in Bolognese Treatises,” Northwest Armizare Weekly Online Meetup, https://saladellatrespade.com/instructors/research-media/

[15] Jay’s fencing is effective and he is doing well in competition, so it is possible that maybe that is the real issue: envy.

Jay, like me, like others, approaches past sources with the tools and theory that they bequeathed to modern fencing, and he is an effective fencer. Those aping the plates devoid of actual understanding are not doing as well, because their study is incomplete. When one is absolutely convinced that one’s point of view is correct, and especially when that stance is backed by those believed to wield authority (however true or untrue), then one is not only losing matches but forced to confront an even harder possibility: their training, however long, however passionate and dedicated, has been flawed. This is extremely painful and unpleasant, and my heart goes out to them. At the same time, it is something one can fix. Jay, in fact, can speak to this better than I can, as it happened to him. He didn’t quit, but put his disappointment and regret aside and started over with a better training regimen.

Leaning… into the Molinelli

from _Istruzioni per la sciabola di sciabola_ [_ (Instructions for Sabre Fencing_], by Arnoldo Ranzatto, first published in 1885, Venice; this is from the third edition, 1889.

Thanks to long-standing injuries and their maintenance I’ve not been teaching as much sabre than I have in the past, but I still have a few students grand-fathered in as well as one or two new people whom I’ve agreed to meet for Radaellian sabre. This summer I’ve had the pleasure to work with two adult fencers, both with experience, but new or newer to Radaelli’s method. As a firm believer that a teacher is (and should always remain) a student, I’ve found that no matter how many times I’ve taught the same, day-one material, that there’s always something new to learn, or, to appreciate in a way that I didn’t before. Students have a way of asking questions that help me refine answers, make them more succinct and intelligible, and that changes not only how I see the material, but also and importantly how I teach it.

The Scarto

In this post I’d like to focus on the scarto, a “shying away,” which was a key feature of Radaellian sabre, and, what sometimes proves a missing piece in modern reconstructions. In March of 2021 I added a post here entitled “Italian Sabre & ‘HEMA'” where I explored some of the reasons for the lack of popularity for this system. [1] One of the major criticisms leveled at the Radaellian method is the size of the cuts and the relative time it takes to make them. I’ve hear this from people in the community as well as from new students with some experience. It’s an important observation, and reveals to me that those of us teaching Radaellian sabre likely need to make the purpose of the scarto far more clear in our lessons.

What’s Up with this Leaning Stuff?

A natural question comes up in viewing the scarto–why should one do it? Everything we teach should have a solid reason for inclusion; it’s never satisfactory to say “because it’s in the treatises.” The why is critical. In origin, this shift of the trunk likely derives from fencing in the saddle. Giuseppe Radaelli, after all, was a cavalryman and his system was designed to revamp then current practice. Before Radaelli, the wrist was used as the axis of rotation for cuts, but in actual use some troopers found it ineffective in battle and thus Radaelli’s innovation, the elbow-driven cut. [2]

Christopher A. Holzman, who more than anyone else has opened up the Radaellian corpus to the English reading world, discusses briefly the connection between the scarto and mounted combat. His take on the scarto in The Art of the Dueling Sabre, which provides a translation of the 1876 edition of Del Frate’s manual–the first to codify Radaelli’s method–is corroborated by the evidence contained in Ferdinando Masiello’s 1891 Sabre Fencing on Horseback [3]. In short, from the saddle, both cuts and thrusts include a slight lean towards the target; in part this is explained by the height of one in the saddle, but it also helps ensure, for cuts, that enough of the weapon meets target to be effective.

Remember that when mounted one’s feet are in stirrups, one’s thighs grip the flanks of the horse, and one’s left-hand grips the reins (all troopers regardless of handedness were trained as right-handers)–all of these contact points affect movement of the upper body. Reach and angle are both affected–even in late cavalry practice we see troopers leaning forward if not to the side in stills from drill and maneuvers.

French Dragoons illustrating the lean in the saddle

Though I’m not a great fan of Patton’s sabre, his Sabre Exercise from 1914 is another excellent point of reference for the place of the lean or scarto:

Patton, Sabre Exercise, 1914

Moreover, and without meaning to upset animal-right’s activists, the lean we often see in period photographs and illustrations owes something to the fact that the horse’s head and breast offered some cover as one faced the enemy. Though most late period cavalry engagements did not assume one-on-one melees between troopers, the lean toward the enemy may have helped one void the enemy’s weapon as well as assist reach to target. In reverse, leaning back to parry introduced that much more distance to attempt to defend.

Unmounted cavalry sabre exercise in Italy, as in other places, included the use of the lean. [4] Even for exercise on foot, which is to say not standing as if mounted, we see this lean:

Compare the angle of the trunk here, in line with the rear leg, to that in Del Frate:

Del Frate, 1868: while rendered rather extended, as the red lines I’ve drawn indicate the trunk should be no farther than the angle of the rear leg.

What the Scarto Achieves

The historical precedent for the scarto is important to know, but for the vast majority of us fencing only on the ground vs. in the saddle, what good does it do us? Everything. The scarto, combined with proper management of measure, tempo, and judgment is what makes the system work against those traditions which rely more on quickly made direct cuts.

It’s the scarto which provides that additional bit of insurance when we attack or defend, and which when used properly discourages counter-attacks to the forward target. It should anyway. If you’re a Radaellian fencer and you’re experiencing stop-cuts or an arrest when you make your cuts, then add the scarto.

There is one caveat and a vital one for anyone mixing with non-Radaellians in “HEMA:” many if not most opponents will try to hit you anyway.

I forget which number of dead horse this is that I regularly beat, but many opponents will ignore the giant cut speeding toward them and select the ify counter-attack. They will argue that they hit you, and sure, they did, but they should not have: they should have opted to defend themselves first. Here as in most things we must artificially remove the mask and safety gear and imagine the weapons in our hands are sharp. NOTHING we do in historical fencing makes sense if we neglect this.

For example, imagine an opponent makes a cut to your head. You parry in 5th, then start the molinello from 5th to the inside cheek (assuming two right-handers). Made with the torso upright you might get the cut out without being hit with an incidental slice, but with the opposing steel there, and the tempo the elbow-generated cut takes, it’s possible for the opponent to draw the sabre back to guard and rake the arm as they do.

Now, add the scarto. When you take 5th, you add a little more distance with the slight lean back; this not only charges the blow a bit more, but importantly means that you start the cut from slightly farther away. The weapon always leads the way–it’s a universal–so… with the cut starting sooner, from juuuust out of distance, they have a choice: stop the giant cut or go for the counter.[5] One of these is sensible, one stupid. For it to work, however–and this is the important part–the opponent has to recognize the difference. Thanks to the fact that too many in HEMA are thinking more in terms of points than imagining sharps, one is likely to be hit a lot trying this out.

Do it anyway. We shouldn’t limit ourselves because our opponents are poorly-trained and approaching bouts as if slapping bells, however “martially,” with their cousins, Olympic sabreurs.

Incorporating the scarto will take some practice if you’re not already doing it, but it’s worth the effort. Start by employing the scarto in solo drills. [6] Next, use them in pair drills–a simple parry/riposte exercise is perfect for this. Once you’re comfortable, add it into all drills and into any bouting. With your fellow Radaellians, this will improve your appreciation for the system. Used against skilled opponents, the addition of the scarto will demonstrate why it is Radaelli who has been called the “father of modern sabre” and not someone else. [7] Lastly, remember against the average “HEMA” sabreur you cannot expect them to understand why despite their sense of victory they’re actually getting spanked, but you can take some comfort in knowing that you’re doing right by the system we study and more closely approaching what historcal fencing should be.

NOTES:

[1] Cf. https://saladellatrespade.com/2021/03/22/italian-sabre-hema/

[2] For the impact of Radaelli’s innovation, see William M. Gaugler, The History of Fencing: Foundations of Modern European Swordplay. Bangor, ME: Laureate Press, 1998, 166-167; see especially 194-205.

[3] Much of Chris Holzman’s work is available at Lulu Books, https://www.lulu.com/search?gclid=CjwKCAjwloynBhBbEiwAGY25dD4EsfGlo8I0X-ZcEcP7Pb5PF4NejSh4IpqJtYqE0iGWEChGQcQiRRoCBhMQAvD_BwE&page=1&q=christopher+a.+holzman&pageSize=10&adult_audience_rating=00, but his seminal The Art of the Dueling Sabre (2011) is of print. He has plans to revise and reissue it, but no word yet as to when.

[4] We see use of the lean in other systems–this image from Aldershot, for example, would suggest the influence of Masiello on the 1895 English Infantry Sabre Exercise. NB: Radaellian sabre was split into three expressions–mounted practice, drill as if mounted but on the ground, and, on foot, the latter intended for combat as well as the growing agonistic sphere. What does “unmounted cavalry drill look like?” Like this:

English cavalry recruits, unmounted drill, 1914

[5] Counterattacks are a risk against a certainty. In the sport, so long as one makes the touch before the light (i.e. as if “in tempo”), fine, but it doesn’t work that way when they’re sharp. Put another way, if something sharp and pointy is about to hit one the smartest thing to do is go on defense, to parry, not to think “oh yeah, I’m just gonna go for it and hit them first; should work fine, no problem.” No, it might not work out if one’s goal is not to be hit too. In teaching counterattacks, regardless of weapon, I generally advise students to counterattack only if they’re at least one tempo ahead of the opponent’s attack; it follows, then, that in most cases the opponent has made a tactical error. They might have started the attack from out of distance; they might have started the attack with a bent arm or foot/body before weapon; or maybe they’ve just failed to cover their arm on the way in; in these cases one should, distance, timing, and judgment allowing, have a chance to attempt the counterattack and cover with a parry/riposte should it land or fail. If it looks like one might not have time to cover, don’t try it. Just parry and riposte.

[6] For a great example see the gifs Sebastian Seager made for his site: http://radaellianscholar.blogspot.com/2017/10/

[7] See Gaugler, The History of Fencing, 194. See also, https://www.ars-dimicatoria.cz/en/italian-military-sabre/

Addendum, Shadows in Caves

It’s never my intention to be mean or divisive. To the best of my ability, I try to focus on the material and evaluate both arguments and support. The more directly and clearly one does that, the better, but directness, especially online, can read differently to people. It’s easy to take any criticism personally even when it’s not intended. [1]

I didn’t pull any punches in my last post, but no blow was aimed at people as people—my intent was to target interpretations, argumentation, and issues of authority either widely acknowledged as problematic, such as “HEMA” lacking any real oversight, or, concerned with questions about credentials that have long been under discussion. [2] It’s important.

As an instructor and historian I have a responsibility to my students and everyone else to be honest about my training, how I arrive at the interpretations I do or why I use those by someone else, and to be as transparent as I can. When I get things wrong (and I do), I owe it to all involved to own it, correct it, and give credit where credit is due.

Few things are harder than declaring, publicly, that one made a mistake, but it’s one of the most important things we can do. First, it’s honest—everyone screws up. Second, owning mistakes and trying to correct them argues for one’s credibility. Third, because our interpretations are shared, we owe it to those who use them to keep them in the know. My own experience with this has demonstrated to me that not everyone will appreciate it, but it’s the right thing to do regardless of reception. Thus, whenever someone offers us valid criticism, it’s on us to consider it and if necessary adjust our conclusions.

Working remotely in a tiny corner of the world, and rarely able to travel to events, conferences, or seminars (though I try), I know of, but do not know, most of the people engaged in the current debate within smallsword circles. I know them only via their work or participation in the community. Even if I did know them, I should not judge them as people (provided they’re not bigots or overly arrogant) but evaluate their work. I expect people to do the same with anything I might share of my work. That is how research works, well, how it’s supposed to work. [3]

All of this is to say that if you are hurt reading my critique, please remember I see you as a colleague in a difficult endeavor; that we, all of us, owe it to all using our work to do right by them and produce the best work we can. Good research is a collective pursuit—we rely on others for support, for correction, and for making our work better. In like vein, we also owe it to our students and one another to be honest, frank, and ready to back up any credentials we claim. The study of martial arts, any branch, relies on trust, and we establish that trust more in action than words.

Notes:

[1] Even in person it can be hard to face criticism, but it’s part of the job. Online communication is notorious for confusion; lacking facial cues, body language, etc., we have to work harder to be clear in what we write and be sensitive to how things might read.

[2] The burden of proof for one’s credentials is on the individual. Normally, it’s easy enough to prove should one question things—maestri, for example, are handed a diploma produced by the organization that granted it and that displays the signatures of those masters that evaluated the candidate. There shouldn’t be any mystery around it.

[3] Work in research long enough and you will see the best and worst in people when it comes to using or evaluating one’s work. For every instance of helpful, well-intended help, there are a legion of people who fail to read it completely, or worse, misconstrue and misrepresent our work. For example, one reviewer of a book I wrote failed to read the preface; had he done so he would have realized that his major criticism, that the book was less monograph than he expected, was targeted towards undergraduates. For a more serious example, a dissertation from 2014, and which mentioned my dissertation from 2002, not only resorted to insulting language, but also misrepresented my work (how her dissertation committee let that go is anyone’s guess—mine would have read me the riot act for such a breach of professionalism).

Shadows in Caves

One of the benefits of not having to suffer the tempests in teapots that boil over on social media is that I only hear of them second-hand. I’ve heard a lot in the past few days about an unfortunate debate on one of facebook’s smallsword pages concerned with a particular action. Controversies like this have a way of forcing people to show their colors, and this latest hullabaloo is no exception.

The lines, as I understand it, are drawn between those upset by the inclusion of a passing attack, a collection of enthusiasts including a number of English fencers, at least one sword-maker, and a few vocal students, largely American. Their opposition consists of an assortment of historical fencers who have argued for this attack based on the sources. If one is familiar with my posts here it will not be difficult to determine where I land in this debate (not that what I think will matter to many participants). However, as an instructor and historian I feel a duty to those I work with to say something.

False Equivalencies & the Fleche

The action in question is a rapid attack meant to surprise an opponent and one made by passing the back foot in front of the lead foot. To work, one chooses the right measure and tempo, and then applies the right speed and weapon angle to close the line. Whatever the name, these are the component features. It is, in truth, a dangerous action, especially if made poorly or at the wrong time or distance, but the fact that it shows up in so many works means it is worth study.

The criticism aimed at the passing-step proponents centers upon this action being too “sporty,” too “modern,” and since that first generation of classical and historical fencers arose in large part because of the excesses in the sport, anything remotely whiffing of the modern piste is immediately suspect. I know because I was there, and like these poor folks, once over-compensated and over-corrected. This was easy to do in the 1990s and early 2000s for several reasons. The complete lack of concern and disdain from fellow fencers about over-use of the fleche, of the flick in foil, of duck and cover, or any of the other aberrations was hard to understand and unpleasant to face. Second, and in ways that echo in the current debate, none of the evidence–and there was plenty–proving that these were departures from the point of fencing and ahistorical made the slightest dent in their resolve. On the one hand, older fencers unaffected by much of this failed to see the danger. On the other, many newer fencers, having made their reputations on these dubious actions were loath to condemn them; to do so would be to condemn themselves, to call into question their own position.

Ego drove much of this, and, ego drives the anti-passing step side now. Combined with misunderstanding of the problem the anti-passing step faction has taken the suggestion that a move like the fleche is viable as a personal affront. Ironically, they decry the action despite the evidence from the very sources they claim to use. Ego is the first barrier: an inflated sense of self and one’s importance tends to blind one to reason. The second barrier is mistaking issues with a particular action for the action itself. Memories of fleche after fleche in the late 1990s and all the daft measures the FIE took have made any attack like it, never mind the fleche itself, anathema.

Of note, the pro-fleche camp, for lack of a better term, has not argued that the passing attack in Vadi or L’Abat is exactly the same as the flying leap sabreurs so took advantage of in the 1990s. Contexts are different, the weapons different. This said, the idea of a rapid, surprise attack made by throwing the weapon forward and passing the rear leg past the lead one is present in our sources. Whether one chooses to use it or not is another question. Whether one makes the attack well is another matter. Whether a master advocated it or merely included it is an additional consideration. Some masters specified that they didn’t care for an action, or, that it was dangerous outside the salle, but often we don’t know where they stood on its effectiveness or safety for actual fighting. [1] There is ample precedent for fleche-like actions on the record, so to poo poo the use of an effective passing attack in modern historical competitions, which we do for fun, is about turf and ego, not the sources.

Why the one faction should stubbornly argue against the evidence of the sources should make one pause. For smallsword works alone, the inclusion of the passing-step attack is common. It should be little wonder as to why. Given the place of cross-steps forward and back in earlier works (de Liancour, 1686, is a good example), adding speed to the same method of advancing follows logically. The same attack, however, appears earlier in the sources, from Vadi to many rapier treatises. What separates historical fencing from other branches is, supposedly, reliance on the sources, so to ignore the basis for interpretation, particularly when we can trace this action over time and across masters, is odd. If the source tradition isn’t their basis for support, then what is?

The Problem of Authority

One of the bugbears within “HEMA” is a blind appeal to assumed authority. In this case, a number of early researchers and their fan-base appeal to the early success and acclaim these luminaries enjoyed in the belief that it’s as valid now as it was in the early 2000s. That is, sadly, not often the case. Research has not stopped since their time, yet many of these same people stick to outdated theories and flawed interpretations.[2] Their argument, thus, is not made from evidence and analysis, but from ego, from fear of losing the status they depend upon from their acolytes. They fear being eclipsed. The last has already happened as this latest fracas, one skirmish of many in the past twenty to thirty years, demonstrates.

Time-in is another supposed source of authority. It can lend one credibility, but depends on other factors. On its own time-in means absolutely nothing. If one has been in “HEMA” for thirty years and has not only been working from poor theories, but also continues to argue that they were correct despite the evidence, then time-in means very little. This happens a lot–I’ve met many people who have wasted years with charlatans or in glorified fight-clubs or working from once key interpretations that have been superseded.

Complicating the stagnation is an often surprising lack of understanding of fundamental actions and concepts. For example, a well-known fencer recently quoted de Bazancourt with respect to rushing in, which not only demonstrates a failure to understand the intended use of the action, but also serves to corroborate the fact they are basing their view on misuse of the action. Preparation is everything in fencing, and attacks like the passing step and even its much abused 1990s version (ideally…) relied on setting an opponent up for it. The sabreurs who flung themselves stupidly at “allez!” and who never varied the game are a different animal. In the footage I’ve seen from a recent Canadian event, the fencer employing the “fleche” used it wisely, and, as intended: as a surprise against an unprepared opponent. I am a fan of much of de Bazancourt’s wisdom, but the quotation supplied is misapplied. Used at the appropriate time and in the right setting, the passing step or fleche is no more dangerous than a lunge. Both put one at risk. Every form of attack potentially does.

Another issue plaguing “HEMA” is the echo-chamber effect. Adherents to this idea or that group focus increasingly only on what those within their section of the community teach, believe, and use. Their views become myopic, limited, and prone to precisely the ego-driven arguing we see in this current example, because for them the debate is less about sources than it is their reputations as “authorities.” They view the shadows cast on the wall by the tiny flame in their hands or in those of their heroes and take those shadows for reality. It seems real and legitimate to them because they refuse to consider any other well-made argument. In like vein, if any light is cast from someone they don’t know or who fails to pass the anemic view of authority they employ, they ignore it, or, call them heretics.

Proof is in the Teaching

Perhaps it is the Hollywood notion of 18th century manners, of high style, and the romance around the waning influence and power of European aristocracy, but many of the interpretations from the anti-passing-step camp are wooden, slow, and lacking in vigor. They present more like demonstrations or dance than a fight. It’s form over function. For all the formality and etiquette that people of the past attempted to apply to personal conflict, in the end it was a sword fight. The intent was bodily harm or semi-acceptable ritual murder, and no evidence we possess suggests that two people, potentially angry and emotional, fighting fear, and terrified of public opinion, were more likely to square off and fight as if dancing. All evidence is to the contrary. Surviving footage of late period duels is no exception, and many of those were first-blood affairs, not to the death. For all the blather about “realism” few in “HEMA” spend much time if any pondering what that means, or, what it should mean in our context. [3]

The flaccid yet florid approach these fighters take to fencing reveals too much concern for aping the elegant plates within the treatises rather than what those treatises were meant to help teach: fighting. I am not the only one cautioning fencers about over-reliance on images, but time and again many in the community gravitate to the images because they don’t understand the text. [4] While language and diction are often challenging, the deeper issue is that these same fencers lack sufficient understanding to read the text. The one place they might go for help, a solid Olympic or traditional fencing program, is anathema among them, and so, they do their best to adopt what they see in the illustrations and produce pretty bouts largely devoid of any intent.

In the footage of their bouts, in their instructional videos, and especially in their attempts to shout down opponents, the shallowness of their understanding and skill emerge vividly. The inability to fence beyond a snail’s pace, the poor use of measure, and the more choreographed timing are red flags. No one fought in slow motion. It’s hard not to conclude that this is one reason that the clubs and cliques against passing step attacks avoid bouting anyone outside their little world. Against fencers with legitimate training and armed with sufficient knowledge they come up short. Such defeats should suggest to these fencers that maybe there is more to learn or better ways to learn it. In fairness to the newer students among them, hearing from their clubs that these defeats don’t count because others are wrong or too dangerous etc. is easier to accept within their echo chamber, when the only voices they hear are all part of the same program. [5]

Make the Bold Move

It takes courage to accept new ideas, even when well-presented and argued, but it remains the right choice if one wishes to retain any respectability. Lacking any official organization to manage these things, we are left only with each faction’s arguments and how to evaluate them. The best approach is to evaluate the respective arguments in light of the evidence, and, against what the purpose of fencing used to be. The masters who wrote these works, many of them anyway, meant for their books to help teach students how to fight. Sure, some, especially later, were more concerned with salle play than with duels, but for those clearly self-defense oriented, like many mentioned in the debate over the passing attack, the goal was effectiveness first and foremost. There was ample attention to deportment and conducting oneself with grace in many works, but this was, outside a fencing hall, a secondary goal. No master stayed employed long if their students died or were maimed for life. [6]

Those quick to condemn historical fencers using the passing step attack should take their example from other members of the older guard, people like Paul Wagner, Stephen Hand, and Dave Rawlings, all of whom have continued to learn, adapt, and alter their thinking based on new and better information. Though well-known, they have remained humble and thus open to learning, and between these factors and being gracious opponents, they have stayed relevant. They have not been eclipsed.

When it comes to past fight systems, no one has a monopoly on the truth. Every interpretation must be tested and compared against the sources, and when new and better ideas make sense, when they follow from the sources, then they’re worth consideration however much that may disappoint one. At such times, hard as it is, once those shadows on the cave wall have been revealed for what they are, it’s time to do the hard thing and turn around. When one does, one sees better and grows, and often, one finds that those they have perceived as enemies turn out to be staunch allies.

Notes:

[1] De Liancour, for example, believed counter-attacks better suited for salle play than affairs on the ground (Le maitre d’armes/The Master of Arms, 1692, 13 in the pdf, 29; in Lynch’s translation, 36); Capt. John Godfrey, in his A Treatise upon the Useful Science of Defense, 1747, 12-13, expresses his dislike of the flanconade.

[2] A prime example is the demi-pointe lunge. See my papers related to this topic in the “Research” section found at the bottom of the Instructor page.

[3] I’ve spent a lot time on this in previous points, so here I’ll only add that while we strive to be historically accurate and as “realistic” as possible, the fact remains that we do this for fun, wear protective gear, and have no real need for this skillset in our own time and cultures.

[4] See my pieces on using and misusing images in historical fencing under “Research” in the Instructors section.

[5] Most fencing schools, most of the better martial arts programs, include working with and/or competing against those outside one’s own school. It’s critical for growth. It is never a good sign when instructors fear this or actively preach against it.

[6] Even in self-proclaimed self-defense works we see concern for deportment. In James Underwood, The Art of Fencing, Dublin, 1798, p. 7, he explains that he doesn’t like the off-hand arm forward because “I think the beauty of the figure is strangely disfigured by it, and that all fencers will allow that they cannot help being pleased with a symmetrical posture.”

Allez! Swordshop.ca is Now Open!

[3 Aug. 2023]

My friend and colleague Jay Maas, Broadsword Manitoba, has launched a new shop for all things historical fencing. I’ve been privy to the set-up and am excited to see the shop live. For those in the United States, shipping so far looks super reasonable, an important consideration.

Here’s the link:

https://www.swordshop.ca/

Alex Spreier on Grappling & the False Dichotomy between “Ancient” and “Modern”

This might seem an odd inclusion, especially if you know me and my aversion to grappling (I have a weapon, why should I touch you? Hey, not everyone washes their kit… just saying…), but personal preference aside wrestling is a foundational martial art, one of the oldest, and as such worthy of attention even by those of us who would rather hit someone from a short distance. Alex is one of the people I go to for questions about wrestling, grappling, etc., and makes some excellent points in this short piece.

Without wishing to steal his thunder, much of what he says about wrestling here applies to fencing as well. Some students of Fiore dei Liberi’s armizare may gasp in horror, but the difference between the first master of longsword (largo) and a coupé is type of weapon, how it’s held, and the context in which it was used. It is, however, essentially the same action. This is why, as Alex notes (see his footnote 4), those with a solid grasp of fencing theory and movement, of technique and tactics, tend to do better than those without it in historical fencing and “HEMA” (issues with judging notwithstanding).

Grappling with Rule Sets

Curricula, Completeness, & Choice

The Noviciate of a Macaroni. Ranelagh. 1772. Colonial Williamsburg Museum

One of the best things about fencing are the interesting people one meets along the way. Say what one will about “nerds” and niche interests, rarely are they boring, and in some cases it’s precisely their eccentricity that bridges the gap between niche-folk and those just other side the creative wall. For example, a few years ago a writer contacted me with questions about sabre for a project he had in hand. Over the course of our many conversations, we became friends. In a discussion this morning, he asked me for my take on the issue of true teachers versus the McDojo sort who just out to make a buck.

One point I made was that there is often, sadly, a gulf between what we can actually use in martial arts, should we need it, and what a school or teacher makes their focus. For example, in one ruleset for competitive Tae Kwon Do, one can kick at the head, but not punch. [1] If one is studying at a school adhering to this ruleset, they may be doing themselves a disservice if the goal is training to keep themselves and others safe. This is not to say that competitively focused schools are inherently bad, they can be fun and build one’s confidence, etc., but one should not mistake them for what they’re not, either.

As we continued to chat, I brought in a few examples from historical fencing, and this raised a related set of questions. Do we try to share all aspects of a particular treatise? Should we? What if an action is dangerous? What if it’s safe to do in our context, but would be dangerous were the blades real? My short answer is “it depends.” There are sometimes reasons to teach dangerous maneuvers, but any time one does considerations of safety must come first.

Not all Masters Agreed; Not all were Equal

One of the most “medieval” aspects of historical martial arts, and “HEMA” in particular, is an almost blind faith in written words of the past. Textual authority, given that it is 90% of our evidence, makes sense, but reason must still be applied. Modern doctors do not rely on ancient Greek medicine for guidance in obstetrics, and it would be both unethical and criminal if they did. [2] Not everything written in the past was good.

An Englishman and his Fencing Master, British Museum

It can be difficult to assess the worth of an old fight manual. Our distance in time, methods of conducting violence, notion of law, everything is different. This said, there are times when we get help from within the texts themselves. For example, in de Liancour’s Le maitre d’armes/The Master of Arms, 1692, he says of the counter attack that

C’est une chose si difficile à prendre que les Temps, l’Epée à la main, que je ne conseille personne de s’y trop hasarder. J’estime mieux une bonne parade, ou un bon battement sec & tiré droit le long de l’Epée ennemie, sans oster la sienne de devant soy…

Je m’étendrois beaucoup sur ce Chapitre, mais comme j’ay résolu de ne parler que des choses essentielles, je dirary seulement que c’est in jeu de Salle, où ces coups se pratiquent allez souvent, mais fort rarement l’Epée à la main.

It is such a difficult thing to take on the Times, sword in hand, that I do not recommend anyone to risk it too much. I consider a good parry better, or a good dry/sharp beat & thrust along the enemy’s sword without removing his from your own.

I would dwell long on this Chapter, but as I have resolved to speak only of essential things, I will only say that it is a Salle game, where these blows are often practiced, not often sword in hand. [13 in the pdf of 1692; Lynch, 36] [3]

Here is a master pointing out the inherent danger in choosing a counter-attack over a solid defense. It’s an important point, and one I am quick to mention when I cover counter-attacks, but I still teach it. For one, though we aspire towards realism, the fact is we do this for fun and no one is in danger of actual injury. Second, and more importantly, though I advise students not to select a counter-attack save under specific circumstances, they need to know how to recognize them and practice defeating counter-attacks when this action is used against themselves.

For another example, Capt. John Godfrey, in his A Treatise upon the Useful Science of Defense, 1747, rails against an action common to most small sword works, the flanconade:

That Thrust called the Flanconade, I pronounce an Anathema upon, as being easily proved to be the most lewd and vile Debaucher of the Art, the Dignity of which consists chiefly in its generous Allowance of a proportionable Chance to the weak man. The other Thrusts depend upon a timely Swiftness mostly: Though to say, that equal Knowledge with more Strength has not the Advantage, would be preposterous, as certainly the greater the Velocity is, the greater the giving Strength must be… [12ff]

Godfrey’s argument is that a weaker person will be less likely to pull off the flanconade than a strong person. He was correct. His pro-English and anti-French bias, given his background, are not surprising but likely informed his position as well. He published, after all, during the War of the Austrian Succession (1744-1748), where the two nations were in conflict over territory in North America (among other theaters). One example should suffice:

The Art we had from the French; no Flaconade was thought of for some Time; but upon finding us very apt Scholars, and being willing to be our distinguished Masters, they brought the Flanconade and many tawdry Embroideries, which they are as famous for inventing, as, I am sorry to say, we are degenerate enough to imitate, and even mimick. Pity! that we should be so fond of imitating a Nation, who have always been deceiving us. Rouse then, though noble British Spirit! (for sure no Time more calling than the present) lift up they brave fronted Head above these dandling Actions, and become thy wonted self! Love thy King, love the Country; stay they Heart his these, and thou art safe.

Thus I take my hearty farwel[sic] of the Flanconade. [13] [4]

The Flanconade, Domenico Angelo, The School of Fencing, 1763/1787

Tin-foil tri-corn hats aside… the flanconade is a relatively difficult action to learn at first, but easier with practice. It does require, as Godfrey points out too, that the off-hand must come into play to stay the opposing blade after parrying in order that one doesn’t double as they go to target. [5] I teach this action too, and as with counter-attacks, because while difficult one must still know how to defend against it.

For a last example, this time in re position, James Underwood’s The Art of Fencing or the Use of the Small Sword, 1798, is instructive. In many, maybe most treatises the author advises one to be back-weighted while on guard. Underwood, however, disagreed:

I am of opinion, that the distribution of the duty laid upon each leg ought to be equal, and the more equally they share in the weight, I will venture to say the body will be so much more supported. But let us examine into the consequential practice, by the disadvantage of laying a greater stress upon one leg than the other, or the advantage to be expected from the strength accruing from the proper weight given to both. If too great a stress lie upon the left leg, your retreat must be obviously the more unsteady, and weaker; if upon the right, you are crimped and checked in your advancing. If the greater share of weight lie upon the right, the left leg must take that share off, before you can advance, and so, vice versa, the right must act for the left in the retreat. But then this is the loss of your time, upon which every thing depends; whereas by equilibrial weight upon the legs, that time is saved. Here your body will be equally supported, therefore stronger and steadier; but by recovering and shifting in the other way, the motion of the body must be so much greater, that your arm is more likely to be thrown out of line. [4-5]

Many fencers are taught this way today, that is, instructed to distribute their weight equally. It works fine. However, the rear-weighted stance was common and works equally well provided one distributes one’s weight properly. I had doubts about it myself, but in discussion with Russ Mitchell, and especially after his how-to-lunge class, I finally understood how it is supposed to work. [6] I teach students both. First, I show them what a majority of the texts advocate and why—our en garde position, and the lunge especially, are compromises between proximity to target and removal of our own target. Next, I show them the equi-weighted stance. Purists may balk, but I focus on the goal of our stances, not the letter of the law—bodies are different and so supplied with a few principles, I advise students to find a position that is comfortable and yet still meets the critical aspects. The front foot should be straight ahead, their bodies turned about 3/4, and fist and weapon just outside the body if on guard in tierce. If the rear heel is not precisely on the line of direction and in line with the front, no matter—are they stable, balanced, and can they move in any direction required? That’s what’s important.

Selective Reading & Teaching

When using a fencing treatise, I read it all and more than once, but I do not necessarily include all I read in class. I am selective in what I use—not in what I read. I read page to page, because I need to see the author’s approach in toto, and, compare it to other, related works—but not everything is equally important. I rely on Girard’s Traité des arms/Treatise on Arms, 1740, for much of my small sword curriculum, but I have no plan to include his short section on defense against grain flails. I use Domenico Angelo’s L’École des armes/School of Fencing, 1763/1787, as well, but spend very little time if any on weapon seizures outside demonstrations. They are, again to quote dance master Les Kendall in “Strictly Ballroom,” largely “flashy, crowd pleasing steps,” and less secure than a firm grounding in parry-riposte and thrusts made in opposition.

There are things I include for reasons of completeness or because it explains or aids core material. For example, there is good reason to believe that prime in small sword derives from broadsword practice. Angelo says as much, and this guard and parry are redolent of the hanging species of guard often used in sabre and broadsword, but I share that fact, if I do, because someone asked or because of some similar prompt. Girard covers the use of multiple feints, actions like the 1-2-3, but rarely does one need to resort to three feints in an actual bout. Complicated maneuvers like this are what we call “medicine for the hand:” we drill a triple feint because it will, we hope, make our single feint that much sharper and crisp. Have I seen anyone use a triple feint in a bout? Yes, among high level foilists thirty years ago, but in historical fencing circles? No. We still have to contend with people who believe feints are not “martial” enough (despite how often they pop up in the military sources…).

My goal is two-fold in most lessons and classes. First, I want to present and teach as accurately as I can either the tradition I was taught, or, those from the past I have studied. For the latter I always provide the caveat that we can never recreate these extinct fight systems perfectly, but we can, hopefully, get a good idea of how they might have worked. Second, I want what students learn to be both reflective of its sources and useful—I see no reason to teach anyone actions that are more likely to get them hit than not, so when I teach counter-attacks, when I teach the flanconade, I do so at the appropriate time and with the necessary warnings.

Curriculum building is selective, personal, and should be subject to revision as new insights, ideas, and flaws in the existing approach appear. Historical fencing is a research and experimental archaeology driven field. Unlike colleagues in the Olympic world, who are not uncovering hitherto unknown material or inventing new actions, our understanding changes with newly discovered texts and better interpretations. [7] If we are not open to new, better information, our programs become moribund and stagnate. Moreover, what we choose to teach and how is everything, but it depends on what our goals are. Unless we wish to produce graceful puppets, we should know not only what to teach, but why. What one selects is up to the individual instructor, but have a reason and be able to explain your choice.

NOTES:

[1] See for example https://olympics.com/en/news/know-your-sport-taekwondo-rules-scoring-equipment, “Scoring,” and “Penalties and Prohibited Acts.”

[2] To name only one example, the Hippocratic school concluded that most illness women faced was due to the uterus. From a very large sample, see Lesley Dean-Jones, Women’s Bodies in Classical Greek Science, New York, NY: Oxford University Press, 1994; Rebecca Flemming, “Women, Writing, and Medicine in the Classical World,” In The Classical Quarterly 57: 1 (2007): 257–79; Helen King, Hippocrates’ Woman: Reading the Female Body in Ancient Greece, New York, NY: Routledge, 1998; Vivan Nutton, Ancient Medicine, New York, NY: Routledge, 2005; Soranus, 1927.Gynecology. Edited by Ioannes Ilberg, Corpus Medicorum Graecorum/Latinorum, Berlin, DE: Teubner, 1927. [what, historians gonna history 😉 ]

[3] French speakers I ask your apologies for my loose translation. M.P. Lynch put out an edition in English (2021), which is useful, but which also has some translation choices that one might find less ideal, e.g. p. 110 where he uses “snafu;” for the original passage, see Ch. 17, p. 64:

Je répons que si l’on étoit affeuré que ce fùt un veritable coup tiré de droite ligne, sans feint, on pourroir y parer en opposant la main gauche, comme je l’ay fait voir dans mes autres Planches. Mais l’on peut étre trompé par des feintes, ou par des demy coups, & étant surprise, cette parade de cercle enveloppera tous ces coups qui pourroient vous étre poussez, & même fera perdre tous les desseins de vostre ennemy.

[4] American sentiment, which has long baffled me given our long friendship with France, tends to back the English view on everything from the Hundred Years War to the colonial contests of the 18^th and 19^th centuries. Had it not been for French support, we may well have lost our rebellion against England. More recent history makes this all the odder given that England and France were allies, as were we with both nations, in the world wars. Just something to think about.

[5] The flanconade, often called a “high-low” attack in modern epee, is effected by parrying a thrust in the high line in fourth, then dropping the point to the outside over the opponent’s weapon. One then thrusts to the outside low line. Many earlier works advocate using the off-hand to secure the opposing steel after beginning the thrust to avoid a double. For a useful modern example, my go-to is professionescherma.org’s channel on Youtube: https://youtu.be/4G63pNHS90M

[6] See Russ Mitchell, Basic Body Mechanics for Martial Artists, 2018.

[7] One outcome of the unfortunate merger between the USFCA (the US Fencing Coaches Assoc.) and the USFA (US Fencing Association, the body that governs the sport; the US branch of the FIE), is that instructors are encouraged to “renew” their certifications yearly, much as someone say in a profession like pharmacy might with CEs (continuing education courses). While admirable that the organization(s) are interested in ensuring a higher degree of ability among instructors, there are issues with this decision. For one, this is expensive and assumes—as ever—full-time coaches with some manner of decent pay. That is not true for most coaches. Second, unlike pharmacy, no one is inventing new ideas or actions that we must learn to stay current. It’s difficult not to see this measure as a money-grab.

The Grip in Small Sword

One of the questions I’m asked frequently is how one should hold a smallsword. With a large corpus of treatises upon which to draw this is, lucky for me, a relatively easy question to answer, and, with some degree of certainty. There are differences among the masters, but most are subtle and have more to do with the positioning of the hand than in how the fingers grasp the weapon.

My approach, an amalgam based on the sources, is typical of “most” works:

The thumb extends along the grip towards the guard and stops 12mm/.5” from the shell
The forefinger rests just opposite the thumb so that thumb and forefinger are sort of pinching the guard
The three remaining fingers grasp the grip and help keep the pommel, while in guard, against the wrist
The fingers do not go through the Arms of the Hilt/annulets

Remember that in French fencing the numbers we use, prime, seconde, tierce, etc., refer to hand positions. There is not, for example, an ideal form of quarte–if the hand is in quarte, one is in quarte, whether parrying high, low, or midline. This is likely one reason, for example, that some masters referred to “quarte over the arm” (modern sixte) when parrying in quarte (hand in quarte) on the tierce side. Here is a handy reference and visual representation of this:

Still looking for the source for this image

In the two bottom quadrants, the lower outside and lower inside lines respectively, the parries for the former are octave (supinated-ish) and seconde (pronated-ish), and for the later septime (supinated-ish; a.k.a. “half circle”) and prime (knuckles up). Quinte, 5th, is a bit different than the similar position for sabre:

NB: 5th as positioned here is not set in stone, but reflects how the hand is held–this can be raised or lowered.

What do the Sources Say?

Below are excerpts from a few sources, mid-17^th century to just before 1800, that cover the grip. Where possible I’ve added the original language if it was written in one other than English. For those without a translation, or for which I do not have one, I’ve summarized the import of the passage rather than offer a translation of my own. I’ve added images from the works when possible too—these are taken from public domain copies, but vary in quality.

NB: going from MS Word to WordPress, never mind the evils of autocorrect, often means errors in transliteration. I do my best to proofread, but if you notice misspellings, wonky accent marks, etc., please let me know and I will correct the error.

Charles Besnard, The Free Master of Weapons, 1653, p. 7 in ENG ver. by Rob Runacres and Reinier van Noort

To properly place oneself in guard and posture in order to practice the single sword or foil, one must first place the sword or foil in hand so that the thumb is placed on the cross or flat of the sword, and the index finger under the flat of the same in a half circle, and right under the thumb. Then tighten the grip of the three other fingers…

Pour bien se mettre en garde et posture pour faire l’exercice de l’épée seule ou fleuret, il faut premièrement mettre l’épée ou fleuret à la main, que le pouce soit posé sur la croisée ou plat de l’épée, et le doigt index soit sous le plat de celui-ci en demi rond, et droit sous le pouce, et serrer fermement la poignée des trois autres doigts…
[p. 7 in the Fr. Transcription by same editors]

De la Touche, The True Principles of the Single Sword, 1670

Next, you must draw the sword, taking it by the grip with the right hand and holding the scabbard with the left hand so that it does not follow the sword, and then draw it. This you can do in several manners, but it is done the easiest and the quickest by always keeping the thumb in the same position as it has in the first figure, and advancing and raising the hand until the sword is out of the scabbard, with the point turned towards the enemy, the thumb on the outside, that is to say, on the right side, and the sword on the edge, as in the second plate. [31 in van Noort and Coudre]

Les Vrais Principes [Ch. 2, p. 7]

Apres cela il faut tirer l’Espée, en la pregnant par la Poignée avec la main droite, & tenant le sourreau de la main gauche de peur qu’il ne suive l’Espée, & ensuite la tirer, ce que l’on peut faire de plusieurs manieres, mais la plus simple & la plus courte se fait en tenant toûjours le poulce dans la mesme situation qu’il a dans la premerie Figure, & avançant & levant la main jusques à ce que l’Espée soit hors du sourreau, la pointe tournee vers l’ennemy, le poulce en dehors, c’est a dire, du costé droit, & l’Espée sur le trenchant, comme dans la deuxiéme Planche.

Sir William Hope, Scots Fencing Master, 1686

Ma. You must hold your Sword after this manner; hold your Thumb upon the broad side of the Handle with your Fingers quite round it, as in the second Figure of the first Plate marked F and not as some do, who put their foremost and middle Fingers through the two arms of the Hilt, thinking that by doing that, they hold their Sword firmer, some use onely to put their foremost Finger through, which the Spainards did of old, and many even to this day do it; but both ways are most ridiculous, and dangerous.

Sch. I think any Man of common sense may perceive that, for when a Man holdeth his Sword in that fashion, with his Finger through the arms of the Hilt, he is in danger of having his Fingers broken, if his Adversary should inclose with him, and offer to force the Sword out of his hand, for holding it that way he cannot so easily quit with it, as he should, and therefore will infallibly in my opinion be in hazard of losing his Fingers, if not his life in the cause.

Ma. Sir, You have found exactly the hazard that a Man is in, in holding his Sword after that manner, but when you hold it, as I have before told you, you must hold it fast and firm, and not gently, so that your Adversary with the least sudden beat or twist may force it out of your hand. [11-13]

di Liancour, The Master of Arms, 1686

Let the right hand be turned half to tierce with the fingernails facing the ground, such that in parrying we need only turn the hand to half fourth, parrying straight thrusts to the inside from fourth with the cutting edge of the sword. [Lynch, 19]

Que la main droite soit tournée demy-tierce, les ongles vers la terre; d’autant qu’en parant l’on n’a qu’à tourner la main demy-quarte, l’on parera les coups poussez tout droit de Quarte dans les Armes, du trenchant de son Epée. [p. 8, Ch. III]

Jean-François Labat, The Art of Fencing, 1696/1740

…the Hilt of the Sword a little above the Hip, turning towards half Quart, the Thumb extended, pressing the Middle of the Eye of the Hilt, keeping the Fingers pretty close to the Handle, especially the little one, in order to feel the Sword firmer and freer in the Hand. [5, McMahon, Lector House edition]

L’art en fait d’armes ou de l’épée seule, avec les attitudes

…que le poignet de l’épée soit un peu plus haut que la hanche, tournant un peu vers la demi-quarte, le pouce étendu & apyué sur le milieu du corps de la garde entre les deux tranchains, serrant suffisament les doigts, sur tout le petit, asin de sentir l’épée plus ferme & plus libre dans la main. [9-10, L’Abbat]

Zachary Wylde, The English Master of Defense, 1711

your Hand fast gript about the hand of your Foil or Rapier, then put your Thumb long ways or forward upon it, your Arm quite extended from the Center of your Body, the Point of the Weapon being directed in a true Line against your Opponent’s right Pap, sinking somewhat low with your Body, your right Knee bowing or bent over the Toes of your right Foot, (tho’ some Masters teaches a strait Knee,) your left Knee more bent, inclining towards the Toes of your left Foot; lying in this Order is the Posture, which I call, Stand your Line, the Medium Guard then is fixt [p. 6 in the pdf]

Donald McBane, The Expert Swords-man’s Companion, 1712, p. 3-4:

Let the Grip of your Sword or Fleuret be no bigger, than that you can close your little Finger round it, and touch the Palm of your Hand; and let all your Fingers be round the Grip, and the point of your Thumb close too or near the Shell, which Guards your Hand, much more than as some People hold it, with the Pummel in the Hand, and fore Finger stretch’d out toward the Shell, they then can not command the Sword so well, and all the Advantage of hold it so, is, that they have a greater length from the Point to the Body, than if they held it with the Thumb close to the Shell. If the Grip of their Sword or Fleuret be larger than as here mention’d, it will be easily be Beat out of your Hand by a Batter.

When you are to Offend, whether at the Wall, or on the Floor, keep your and Hand Breast high, and Point rather below your Hand, and if you are to Defend at the Wall, keep your Hand as low as your or Hipp, and your Point as high as your Forehead; but for Defence on the Floor keep the proper Quart Guard, and by turning your Hand, you may Parie all high Thrufts, or Thrufts made at the Level of your Hand, and above; for Thrufts below the Level of your Hand, the Low Quart, and Seconde will Parie them.

Donald McBane, 1712; here with broadsword

Alexander Doyle, Neu Alamodische Ritterliche Fecht und Schirm-Kunst, 1715

Die Erstere nun/ Prima genennat/ belangend/ ziehet selbige ihren Nahmen daher/ wann man den Degen aus der Scheiden ziehen will/ denselben mit verkehrster Faust aud der Seiten ergreisset/ und nach dessen Entblosung sienem Feinde die spize bietet; da dann mit dem kleinen Finger in der Höhe/ dem Daumen unten/ mit zugelegter Faust und ausgeisirechtem Urm gegen die Uchsel die Spize praesentirt wird: Und in solcher Positur wird die so genannte Prima formiret [p. 1]

[Summary: prima/first is named for the fact that this is the position one is in after drawing the sword; one grabs it with the fist inverted; in this position, the thumb faces down, the little finger up; NB in the image below the fencers are not in prima]

Henry Blackwell, The English Fencing Master, 1730

Secondly, To hold a good Guard to defend your Body, your Right-Hand must be straight out with a little bend in your Arm, the Point against your Adversary’s Right-Breast, with your Four Fingers bent under one part of the Handle, and your Thumb over the upper part, with the Pummel close to your Wrist, as you shall see in the Posture, etc. [2]

Girard, Traité des armes, 1740

III. Que la poignée soit serrée près du pommeau avec le petit doigt, & le second doigt, & que la milieu du poulce soit apuyé à plat sur ladite poignée de l’Epée près de la sous-garde; laquelle poignée étant soutenuë du dedans la jointure du premier doigt, on aura la facilité de dégager & de tirer.

IV. Avoir le bras droit, & le poignet flexible & tourné demi quarte, de sorte que le demi trenchant de la lame regarde la terre, comme il est dit, & que le bout des ongles des trois derniers doigts de la main droite regarde le Ciel, & la plus grande partie de l’ongle du poulce, ainsi que le bout du premier doigt. [5-6]

Crawley, Philip T. The Art of the Smallsword, Featuring P.J.F. Girard’s Treatise of Arms. Wyvern Media, UK: 2014, 38.

3. That the handle is gripped near the pommel with the little finger & the second finger, & that the middle of the thumb is laid flat on the grip, near to the body of the hilt; of which is supported by the inside of the knuckle of the index finger, which will give greater ease in disengaging and thrusting.

4. The right arm & the wrist flexible & turned to demi-quarte, in such a way that the ridge of the blade is toward the ground, as stated, & that the fingertips and nails of the three last fingers point towards the sky, as the greater part of the thumbnail and the tip of the index finger.

Le Perche du Coudray [attrib.], L’exercise des armes ou le mainement du fleuret, 1676/1743

Voila de Toutes les Gardes

La Situation la plus naturelle, la plus gratieuse, et la moins dangereuse, Car toutes les autres sont Exposée, a tant de Contrecoups qu’il ny [ne?] faut pas penser, cest pourquou je Conseilleray toujours aux Amateurs de ce noble exercise de ne s’Escarter jamais des regles de cette garde, qui sont dabord de bien tenir son Epeé, ayant pour cette Effet la poulce sure le plat de la poigneé, la pointe a la Hauter de l’Epaule, que le pomeau de l’Epeé tombe en ligne directe sur la pointe du pied droit, qu’il soit a la hauteur de la hanche droite, il faut que le Corps soit droit sur les deux hances, et posé entierement sur la partie gauche, Cavant bien la hanche droit, et Effacant bien l’Epaule gauche, pliant le genoüil gauche et laissant beacoup de liberté dans le droit, asin de n’etre point Embarassé ny pour marcher, ny pour faire les Engagements d’Epeé; il faux que les deux pieds soient dans la même ligne et que les deux Talons se respondent l’un a lautre. Il faux être sendu Environ de deux semeles il faut que le bras gauche soit èlevé en faisant un de ny Cercle et que le creux de la main soit directment a la hauter de l’Oeil gauche, la tête droite le Corps bien effacé et observer tourjours une g. de liberté, le talon droite vis a vis l’Oeil du soulier gauche [1]

[Summary: thumb is flat on the handle, point shoulder high, pommel in direct line with tip of the right foot, at height of right hip]

Le Perche du Coudray [attrib.], 1676/1743

Juan Nicolás Perinat, Arte de esgrimir floret y sable/Art of Fencing, 1757/8 [from the transcription and translation by Tim Rivera, 2018]

It is necessary to be in guard in the mode that is seen in the figures of the first plate, both feet on the same line, both legs bent, the left more than the right, the hip supported on the left side, both arms half extended, the left higher and arched, the head erect, looking at the enemy, the hand turned between fingernails up and fingernails down, or in the regular posture, and the thumb over the plane of the sword, presenting the point to the enemy. [1]

Es menester ponerse en guardia del modo que se vé en las Figuras de la Lámina primera, ambos piés sobre una misma línea, las dos corvas dobladas, la izquierda mas que la derecha, la Cadera apoyada en la parte izquierda, ambos brazos médio tendidos, el izquierdo mas levantado y arqueado, la cabeza derecha, mirando al Enemigo, la mano vuelta entre uñas arriba y uñas abaxo o en postura regular, y el pulgár sobre el plano de la Espada, presentando la punta al Enemigo. [1]

Domenico Angelo, The School of Fencing, 1763/1783

You must observe that the gripe of the sword be put on quite centrical to the heel of the fort of the blade, which should have a little bend above the fingers, when in hand, and let the whole mounting be turned a little inward, which will incline your point in carte. This way of mounting your sword will facilitate your disengagements, and give you an easy manner of executing your thrusts. [2 in the 1787]

Il faut ausi que la garde de l’epée porte juste sur l’affiette du talon du lame, laquelle doit baisser un peu sur les doigts de la main, & le corps de la garde doit être tourné un peu en quarte. Cette maniere de monter uné epée donne de la facilité pour dégager & de la liberté pour tirer les coups d’armes. [p. 21 in the pdf from the BNF Gallica site]

Andrew Lonnergan, The Fencer’s Guide, 1771

In holding your Foil observe, that you must lay your thumb upon the flat of the handle, or grip, somewhat extended with your fore finger on the other flat behind, forming a square with the point of your thumb. Sometimes you will find a Foil, with a square handle, where no flat side can be distinguished; in such case, the flat of your Foil’s blade must guide you as before; but now the Foil blades are also square, therefore you must be guided by the kind of shell the Foil has; which shews you where the real flats of the handle and blade are, though still square. Now the whole hand should be at such a distance from the shell, so that the little finger should lock into the hollow part, or neck of the pummel; yet practice will allow you to shift your hand hereafter. Observe, when the handle or blade of your Foil is bent, or arched, you must always lay your thumb upon the round side; and the inside of your fingers ends on, or against, the hollow side, or part of the blade, griping the handle gently, and with as much freedom as if on a flute.

Some make a practice of holding the Foil between the fore and middle fingers, with the thumb propped against the fore-finger; yet this method, though successful enough to many by long practice, is not so recommendable to begin with as the former. [1-3]

J. Olivier, Fencing Familiarized/L’Art des armes simplifie, 1771

Ch. 2 How to hold the Sword

In order to hold a sword well, the hilt must be flat in your hand, your thumb stretched and at an inch distance from the shell, the pummet under your wrist.

Never keep the sword fast in your hand, but when you parry or thrust. For, if you hold it always with strength, the muscle of your thumb will soon grow stiff. [9]

Ch. 2 Maniere de tenir l’Epée

Pour bien tenir votre épée, il faut que la poignée se trouve à plat dans votre main, le pouce etendu à la distance de 12 lignes de la coquille, le pommeau sous le poignet.

Ne serez jamais l’épée en votre main, que lorsque vous parez ou tirez car, si vous la teniez toujours avec force, vous vous engourdiriez bientôt le muscle du pouce. [p. 10]

John MacArthur, The Army and Navy Gentleman’s Companion, 1780 [NB: fan of J. Olivier’s teaching and method]

Lesson 1: The Manner of Holding the Sword or Foil, etc.

In order to hold your sword well, the hilt must be flat in your hand; so that the two edges will be nearly horizontal when you throw yourself upon guard; your thumb stretched along the upper flat part of the hilt, within half an inch of the shell, and the pummet is to rest under your wrist. [p. 3]

Danet, L’Art des armes, Paris, FR: Chez Herissant, Fils, 1788

Manière de tenir l’Epée

Pour tenir avantageusement l’épée, il faut que la poignée se trouve entre le tenar & l’hypotenar, & le pommeau à la naissance de la main; que le pouce soit allonge jus-qu’à la distance d’environ douze lignes [*] de la coquille sur le plat de la poignée; qu’en même temps le milieu de l’index se place dessous la poignée près de la coquille; que la poignée soit étroitement embrassée par le doigt majeur, & encore serrée contre le tenar vers la pommeau, par l’annulaire & l’auricularie: mais il ne faut serrer la poignée que dans l’instant seulement que vous tirez, ou que vous parez; parceque les muscles due pouce, de l’index & du doigt majeur s’engourdissent promptement, au lieu qu’il n’en est pas de même de ceux qui sont agir le petit doigt & l’annulaire.

Il est des occasions où il convient de lâcher ces deux doigts pour faciliter l’exécution de cetain coups. J’aurai attention de vous en prevenir quand il le saudra. [3]

[Summary: the thumb is extended along the grip and a short distance from the shell; index is under the grip, opposite the thumb; of note, Danet reminds the fencer not to grip tightly save when thrusting or parrying; the three remaining fingers keep the weapon secure, pommel is against the wrist]

* The ligne, “line,” was a unit of measure in pre-Revolution France. This particular measure had an English parallel, of the same name, which varied in length between 1/10 and 1/40 of an inch. The French ligne corresponds to about 2.3mm. Incidentally, a pouce, or “thumb” [approx. 27mm] was also a measurement within this system, but that is not how the word is used here. For more on this, a useful summary is provided in William A. Smeaton, “The Foundation of the Metric System in France in the 1790s: The Importance of Etienne Lenoir’s Platinum Measuring Instruments,” in Platinum Metals Rev. 44:3 (2000), 125ff [https://technology.matthey.com/article/44/3/125-134/]; see also Suzanne Débarbat,”Fixation de la longueur définitive du mètre,” in Ministère de la culture et de la communication (1999): https://francearchives.gouv.fr/fr/pages_histoire/39436 ; of note, the ligne is still used by some milliners, cf. https://www.levinehat.com/blogs/levine-hat-blog-1/19189051-what-are-french-lignes

How to Tournament, Deuxième Partie

[This is a continuation of the post “How to Tournament” posted yesterday (19 June 2023)–much of what I say here has been said before, including by me, but since it is on theme, here it is anyway]

In part one of “How to Tournament,” I focused mostly on intelligence gathering and assessing the competition. Here, I’d like to discuss mental preparation, a topic covered earlier in part by the “The All-Important Place of Calm” [15 May 2023, https://saladellatrespade.com/2023/06/19/how-to-tournament/]. The approach to managing emotion is key here too, because nerves, excited or fearful or nervous, can derail us no matter how well-trained we are or ready we are to compete and succeed. One way to think of it is akin to drill. We tend to fight as we drill, because we condition ourselves to respond to certain actions and situations and reinforce this via repetition. We can do the same thing mentally—without meaning to sound like Moonbeam the Hippy or some faux guru on tele, cultivating calm and simultaneously picturing ourselves in an event, start to finish, and in specific instances of action, can do much to help us the day of the event. What is familiar is less likely to unsteady us, so from physical training to mental training, we can make even competition just another day sword in hand.

Calm, Revisited

Not to repeat the earlier post, but calm is something we can choose and practice like anything else. In this instance, this means consciously focusing on one’s place in the event and when necessary supplanting negative emotions (nerves, anxiety, fear, whatever) with concrete thought. For the first, visualizing our performance, from the moment we enter the event to specific actions, beforehand can do a lot to prime us. It’s not magic (sorry Moonbeam). Whatever other benefits visualization may have, the process of making something familiar helps remove uncertainty. The more we know something, the more comfortable we are with it, and thus, the less likely nerves take over. [1] [yes, I did just repeat this… see? repetition!]

Duel between an unfortunate braggart and Kyuzo, “Seven Samurai,” 1954

When nerves pop up, and they sometimes will, we’re better prepped to manage them having already envisioned the situation, but we can apply active replacement too. This requires noticing, consciously, that we feel nervous, and then pausing to distance ourselves long enough to set that emotion aside and replace it with something more useful. For example, Fencer X has just completed the first pools, and is nervous about the second. The competitors here are strong and Fencer X begins to doubt. Noticing this, Fencer X stops, takes a deep breath, and says to themselves “No. Focus on what you know. You’ve seen these people fight; you know how to counter them. Relax and have fun.” Conscious thought, that focus, can—with practice—remove some degree if not all of the negative emotion that undermines us in a fight.

Constructive Visualization

In no way is this a nod to crystal-thumping charlatans; I draw upon a few sources for this, but maybe the most important being well-attested memorization protocols. [2] Self-help books from the 1980s aside, all this is really is a form of meditation, just very focused meditation. Simply put, one focuses on imagining oneself at the event. If one can visit the venue first, that helps—gives a face to things. It might help to visualize oneself entering the facility, full of calm, and warming up. Next, one might visualize a specific action one’s been working on lately and successfully executing it in a bout. Perhaps an entire bout, maybe even against a specific opponent, is worth contemplating.

None of this determines the outcome, but what it does do is prime the mind for action and reduce potential nerves. Ideally, one gets on the strip or steps up to the ring and is utterly calm or maybe just in state of happy excitement. One can tell, by the way, when this happens. It shows. I have found in competition, as well as in at least two actual fights (fists, not swords), that steady calm can utterly unnerve some opponents. Calm suggests confidence, and with that, skill. This can affect what judges see too (remember: competition is a game, as psychological as physical if not more the former). [3]

Pre-Tourney Practice

In conjunction with mental preparation, one normally trains physically before an event too. This exercise may take place during regular practices or within individual lessons if one is taking those, but people often add additional drill in the mix too. Much of this may be one’s normal cardio and/or weight etc. training—all ideal times by the way to visualize things the day of.

For those practices focused on fencing, emulating the warm-up or pre-competition lesson tends to work best. This style of lesson is similar to a technical lesson, but the goal is to build confidence in the fencer, not to impart new skills. Keep things simple and focus on those actions a fencer does best—drill so as to make these actions as crisp, tight, and well-timed as they can be. Warm-up lessons are also typically short, maybe 10 minutes, tops 15. My approach in the past has been to include some of these types of lesson a few times in the weeks leading up to an event. The week of, we focus hard on these things, and, anything that the fencer may have had trouble with in the past. [4] The day of the event, I would have them warm up, then put them through the same short, 10 minute warm-up. Like contemplating success, this style of lesson has them work things they do well, all of which build confidence and ready them for the pools.

Intent, Expectations, and Take Aways

As in so many things, we get out of them what we put into them, but added to this much comes down to how we do this, what it is exactly that we invest. I tell my students and any colleague I prep for an event, to set goals. What do they want out of this event? How does it fit into their growth and experienced as a fencer? Laying all that out helps set expectations for an event, and thus, helps prevent the common distractions that come up when things don’t go as planned.

Versatility is a vital skill for any fighter—if weapons break, does one have a backup? If one’s tactics are failing, can one notice, adapt, and continue the fight? How does one handle victory in a bout? How does one handle defeat? The culture we create in a club or school goes a long way in shaping and cultivating this skill.

Charles Hall (1720?-1783) after James Gwin (1700-1769), “Seconde position du Salut. Plate 11.” from L’Ecole des Armes by Domenico Angelo (1717?-1802), London, R. & J. Dodsley, [1763], engraving, Yale Center for British Art, Paul Mellon Collection; SOURCE https://www.ccpl.org/charleston-time-machine/swords-fencing-and-masculine-choreography-early-charleston

Be gracious, be courteous, and show largesse win or lose. I’m a strong advocate for managing both victory and defeat with a becoming grace and humility. Today it went one’s way—great; tomorrow it might not. No one with any aspiration to sanity dislikes a generous, gracious fighter. In fact, people will want to fight with that person because their heads are screwed on right and they make it fun. Fencers like that make the bout about the bout; they think in terms of a shared, dare I say it intimate experience and not just what these tiny victories might do for their self-worth. Officials like them too, because they don’t whine when they lose a point, even if unfairly, and use proper channels to protest something they find illegitimate or untoward.

After the Event

Conducting a post mortem after the tournament is important. With any fencer I have prepped, I like to follow up with them and see what they thought went well, what not so well, and how the experience might guide future training. This helps me, as their instructor, but it helps them too. It’s a chance to see that what they’ve learning is working as well as those areas that might benefit from additional practice.

Lastly, I always asked them if they had fun. Fencing tournaments, of any kind, are not famous for making any participant rich. We don’t have pay-per-view prize fights with purses to match. In the U.S. one never sees fencing on tele unless it’s the Summer Games and we have high level fencers in the run for medals.

We fight in tournaments, for the most part, because they’re fun. I have written a lot about tournaments and bouting as learning tools, and they are, but they should be enjoyable as well. Looked at in this way, a good tournament (emphasis on good events…), can push our skills forward and be a blast at the same time, and there are not many areas in our lives to day to day where we can often say that.

NOTES:

[1] We are resilient creatures. One of the best, if more extreme examples of this, emerges powerfully from combat and the process by which many military folks become accustomed to the extremes of life-threatening horror. I leave it to those military personnel and veterans willing to talk about it to explain this as they can do so better than I can.

[2] I mean no offense to modern spiritualists etc., just those trying to make a buck off of people. There was a spate of new-agey self-help books in the 1980s that mixed decent advice with a lot of b.s. Check the shelves of most any bookstore and these scams are still on the shelves. There has been a lot of work on how we can use, even improve memory, and condition ourselves. One of the more influential books for me, odd though it may sound, is M. T. Clanchy’s From Memory to Written Record, England 1066-1307, Hoboken, NJ: John Wiley & Sons, 2009. I also recommend, for a broader look, Fances A. Yates, The Art of Memory, Chicago, IL: University of Chicago Press, 1974.

[3] I remain convinced that I will never acquit myself better in a fight than I did in the last one I had, or didn’t have rather, in college. A sub-letter got nasty with my girlfriend at the time about rent, and I told him to knock it off. He decided to take it outside, and once outside, kicked off his shoes and danced about posturing. I stood across from him, ready, and waited. At one point he started to approach, so I started to raise my hands and smiled. He stopped, and a few second later walked over with his hand outstretched. Having had excellent masters, I didn’t trust this gesture and made it clear that if it was a ploy it wasn’t going to work. He was, happily, sincere. So, we walked away from the small crowd that had gathered and talked it all out. I was just looking after my girlfriend, and he was trying to save face, both understandable places to land, and since I had no ill will toward him, nor he toward me so far as I know, it was easy to fix.

[4] I didn’t invent this style of lesson. They’re well-known in Olympic circles. For a solid explanation of warm-up lessons, among other types, see Maitre Robert Handelman and Maitre Connie Louie, Fencing Foil: A Practical Training Guide for Coaches, Parents, and Young Athletes, San Francisco, CA: Pattinando Publishing, 2014, 324-325.

Running a Tournament 101

[what follows is a very bare-bones, big-picture look at running a tournament, but hopefully helpful]

Tough as it can be competing in a tournament, running one is almost as hard if not as hard as being in the pools, and in some ways it’s a lot more challenging. People may not remember Fencer X’s performance, but they tend to remember whether they thought a tournament was well-run or a waste of time. Importantly, they also remember if an event was particularly biased or inconsistent in judging. Having run tournaments, I know firsthand the obstacles to a successful one, and, a few things that help. So, continuing the tournament theme, this post looks at this from the organizer’s point of view.

Planning

Organization is everything. There are typically a few essentials for a tournament and few without cost. Among the major considerations are:

Funding
event location
officials
awards
food & beverages
accommodations
advertising

Not all tournaments will include all of these. At most, one brings their own food, lunch money, and water, though water-bottles or access to fountains or sinks is normal. Likewise, few tournaments can afford to fly in and board competitors. [1]

I start with event type, then consider whom to invite. For example, in the pre-pandemic sabre invitational, my buddy Brent Lambell and I decided to team up. He had a space and I had a good idea of whom we should invite. [2] Not everyone will show, and even those who r.s.v.p. may change their minds for one reason or another, but knowing what you plan to do and how many people will likely be there determines most everything else.

Funding

Most clubs fund their own events, but if one can acquire sponsors it helps. Some may be local businesses, some well-known suppliers like Purpleheart Armory. It can be decent advertising for those who chose to assist, and even if all a sponsor covers are the awards or morning coffee, those are things that don’t come out of the club’s budget and help reduce the overall cost.

Approach sponsors respectfully and with an eye for partnership. They may have questions, especially for historical fencing events, so be ready to answer questions, direct them to your website or instatwitterface, or hand them a brochure your club has them. If their answer is no, thank them for their time and leave a good impression. Maybe next time they will agree.

Location

Depending on where one lives, there are often fees or legal aspects to renting a space and running a sporting event. In the United States, for example, proof of insurance coverage is standard. The venue will tell one what the requirements are, and since these can sometimes take time securing the location early is wise.

For larger events, one needs more space, and in the U.S. anyway that means additional costs. Locally, the larger tournaments we have had here have been hosted by several schools versus one; this helps spread out the cost and with luck increases the number of volunteers. The events I’ve put on have been small, so a gym has sufficed, but I’ve worked with tournaments that have rented entire buildings as well.

Bathrooms and/or changing rooms are usually available, but for some events one may have to rent portable toilets etc., an additional cost. Whenever possible, access to restaurants, hotels, and other amenities help. These should be listed and shared with attendees and staff—I typically include it on the flyer and in the individual messages to participants.

Officiating

With the caveat that some clubs are isolated and have little choice, it is always best to employ officials from outside one’s own club. For example, in the invitational, the director was an old friend and colleague of mine unassociated with the school. An experienced Olympic fencer, he was an ideal choice, and impartial as he knew none of those competing.

As the organizer, I likewise had nothing to do with officiating lest the event appear biased for my fencers or friends. My job was managing the event, from problem-solving (the guy with the movable rings was a no-show so we had to have someone run to the store for tape and create some manner of piste), helping people find spots for gear, and assisting with the clock and scoring table. Another friend and fencer, also unassociated with anyone fencing that day, worked with me to ensure further that nothing might appear untoward.

Tim D and Patrick B, 2nd Sabre Invitational, 2019; director, Dennis Le, judges Richard Lowrey (gray pants) and Daniel Ma (black pants)

Even with the best intentions, one can be favorably biased towards those one knows; it’s easy to read intent behind an action because Fencer X “always does that” versus what that fencer actually may have done. For this reason, if not just for appearances, it’s best not to officiate one’s own fencers or friends. If the event is isolated or in other ways unable to get sufficient outside help, then local officials may have to suffice. In that case, every effort should be made to ensure that anyone directing or judging isn’t presiding over bouts their best friends are in, and, that they are calling what they see, not what they think they saw. When in doubt, abstain.

No one wants to pay, travel, and devote time and energy to a tournament that appears rigged let alone is rigged. I have witnessed systemic cheating myself, and just this weekend chatted with a friend in Canada who attended an event that was horribly inconsistent with calls at best, and wholly ignored some actions at worst. [3] If one hopes to run an event more than once, consider not alienating and aggravating visiting competitors. It makes the host school look bad, well, to fencers who don’t favor cheating anyway.

Experience means different things. A local fencer who has judged a few longsword opens has, relatively speaking, experience, but that is not the same as the former Olympic fencer who was trained in an environment geared toward competition and who may have taken courses on officiating. I’ve found that any Olympic fencer willing to help out is open to the rule changes that come with historical fencing. If nothing else, ensure that judging is consistent. Bad, but consistent trumps bad and inconsistent. Seek out seasoned fencers, people with considerable experience, to officiate if possible.

Awards, Prizes, etc.

2019, SdTS Sabre Invitational, finalists

What one chooses for awards varies considerably. Trophies and medals can be ordered locally in many places or online. [4] These are not inexpensive considerations, so if sponsors can help, great, if not then club money will need to be set aside to cover the cost. If and when possible, something different and unique can spice things up—for example, in the invitational my club hosted we had a technical award decided by all participants. The winner of the technical award year two was presented with a page from Major Alexandre Muller’s Théorie sur l’escrime a cheval (1816) [5]. The winner of SabreSlash 2021 was awarded a beautiful sabre. If and when possible, extras like this add excitement and a little color.

Food & Beverages

With few exceptions most places I’ve used or which I have visited do not have kitchens, though when a site does it can solve a lot of problems food-wise. In the Pacific Northwest, for example, we are lucky to have a chap named Sven who loves cooking, knows how to cook for a small army, and makes seriously delicious food. Some venues will not allow food or anything save water, so best to find out ahead of time versus day of.

I try to have ample supplies of water on hand at a minimum. Fencing kit makes for a hot, sweaty day, and people need water. I’ve also done my best to bring some coffee and breakfastish pastries for guests and officials. Listing local food options is helpful as well, especially those within walking distance.

Accommodations

Housing attendees can be one of the most expensive aspects of a tournament, and, it isn’t a requirement. In the past I’ve listed inexpensive hotels as well as forming part of a pool of people happy to host out of town guests. Travel can be expensive and most people are grateful for a couch or spare room. Hosting is also a great way to get to know people, and the better ties one has with one’s community, typically the more we enjoy time in that community.

Advertising

The inexpensive ways to do this are via social media, email, and word of mouth. Posters and fliers can help, and I imagine radio or t.v. spots would too, though I don’t know any schools that can afford to advertise on radio or tele. Some, like my friend Mike’s club, Northwest Armizare, have been on television a few times, but most of us are not so lucky.

Joining events like the local Renaissance Faire or offering demonstrations at schools, festivals, and other events are other ways to advertise. Personally, I’ve found most such festivals to get more work out of us than we get new students in turn, but advertising and boosting school numbers aren’t the only reason to attend these events. A good demonstration can make an impression and one never knows where it might lead.

Officiating, again, and a Word on Rule-sets

Choice of rule-set determines a lot. Whichever rule-set one decides upon, learn it well, and enforce it as consistently as possible. Make sure competitors are aware of the rules before the tournament, and, rehash them briefly before the event starts.

No one will remember what brand of coffee an event had on hand, and no one will remember if the bathrooms were worse than any other public one, but they will remember a poorly run event and terrible officiating. For all the amenities, fencers will remember good or bad calls; they will remember fairness. If you want a tournament to become a regular occurrence, then ensure the best officiating you can obtain.

Post Script: I neglected to mention having a first-aid person on site. Some insurance carriers and/or facilities will demand it, but it’s a good idea anyway. The goal in any tournament, from my view, is to keep the first-aid person as bored as possible and then reward them nicely with public thanks, some token of appreciation if your budget allows it, on top of any fee they may collect (some volunteer, some one must hire).

Many events are staffed and succeed thanks to volunteer efforts, so be sure to thank them, publicly, for their help.

Notes:

[1] Few events can do this, and those I’ve attended that do usually offer one or the other, save for a headliner.

[2] Brent’s club has changed hands and he moved, but my hope it to get the invitational rolling again and likely as a charity event. The plan is to expand it as well. Day one will be sabre, and day two a mixed steel accolade for later period thrusting weapons. Experience taught us that a sabre open tended to invite people not ready to complete, so I pushed for an invitational where we would attempt to attract well-established, skilled fencers.

[3] Enough time has passed, I feel I can speak about the Rose City Classic in 2017 and the egregious cheating that took place. It was a larger tournament for Portland, but was co-hosted by the infamous Blood & Iron club out of Vancouver, BC, Canada. The directors were all B&I, and two of the three judges were as well. I wasn’t competing, but visiting Gus Trim—one of the vendors there—and so had an ideal seat to watch several of the competitions. There were shots the B&I judges ignored, doubles they awarded to their own, and other more subtle ways they manipulated the rules. Moreover, there was zero accountability for hard-hitting, and worse, for clearly ill-intentioned shots after the halt, the standout example being a bout between B&I’s cult leader, Lee, and another fencer, cf. https://youtu.be/3r86pARypTo

[4] Purpleheart Armory is one such resource, cf. https://www.woodenswords.com/category_s/2072.htm

[5] In the estate that selected my club for a non-profit donation, there were among the books several loose pages out of Muller’s 1816 manual. They’re in poor shape—not acid-free paper—and weren’t housed properly, but I’ve stabilized them and will continue to use them for the technical award until I run out of them.