History of Fencing – Page 2 – Capitale Escrime Historical Fencing

Wait, I thought you were a Sabreur?

Social media may herald in the end of the world as effectively as it has poisoned politics, but it’s fantastic where fencing is concerned. A recent post on smallsword garnered questions about what it is, exactly, that I do–am I a foilist? A sabreur? Both? Something else?

The simple answer is “yes,” all of the above, but we focus on different things at different times. There can be many reasons for this. To the person’s first question, yes, I am still a sabre fencer, though more coach than anything else at this point. My main source is Luigi Barbasetti’s _The Art of the Sabre and Epee_ (1899/1936), not only because it is the text I’ve come back to time and again since the 1990s, but also and especially because his work formed the foundation for the school in which I am a student, Barbasetti Military Sabre since 1985, headquartered in Prague, Czechia.

Between some injury maintenance and a brutal schedule in my day job, Barbasetti’s approach has, as ever, proved solid and rewarding. Nearly all my students use s2000 Olympic blades, though several use historical trainers (two have Swordsmithy’s, two those by other makes, but all hovering around 650-700g). The system is such I could use sticks.

I am not taking new students for sabre, that is true, but mostly due to time constraints–I am unable to teach as often as I was and the larger the class, the less effective the instruction. I make exceptions for visitors and for the few people who seek me out from out of town, but otherwise my focus has been on related projects, teaching, and working on some international efforts to improve both coaching and fencing.

As ever, I’m happy to answer questions, so please feel free to do so–as I did here, I’ll do my best to answer promptly and succinctly.

Early & Later Smallsword Treatises: A Note

[originally posted 30 July 2023 on the old CEHF site]

It’s customary to discuss particular weapons in somewhat monolithic terms. We speak of “foil,” “smallsword,” “sabre,” or “longsword,” to name a few, as if these constitute a tidy, discrete facet of sword-types. In some ways, this is true: sabre is different from spear, longsword from smallsword. However, as convenient as compartmentalization is, despite how necessary it is to organize a topic as gigantic as swordplay, we can easily forget that within each division there exists both variety and change over time.

For smallsword, a cursory glance at earlier and later texts will reveal some critical differences. There is overlap to be sure, but the differences are important. Even among texts of the same general time one should compare them. De La Touche’s seminal work from 1670, Les vrays principes de l’espée/The True Principles of the Sword, for example, reads differently from de Liancour’s Le Maistre d’armes/The Fencing Master (1686), but both read very differently from Sir William Hope’s The Scots Fencing Master (1687) and A New Short and Easy Method of Fencing (1707).

The works of Sir William Hope, Zachary Wylde, and Donald McBane tend to read as primitive, unsophisticated works to many fencers with more traditional training. It’s easy to see why. These works contain fewer actions, seemingly odd things like weapon-seizures and guards other than tierce/sixth, and are often less well-written. Compared to the succinct descriptions in Le Sieur P.J.F. Girard’s Traité des armes (1740) or Domenico Angelo’s L’École des armes/The School of Fencing (1763/1787) one might conclude–erroneously–that these later works are “better” than those which preceded them.

The answer is context. The earlier works reflect a different set of concerns. These are largely works of self-defense first and foremost. While Girard and Angelo also offer solid advice for the duelist, they also reflect a different culture, one in which smallsword was already transforming into the game of foil (originally a training tool for smallsword), that is, a polite game where beautiful execution and grace were often as or more important than actual combat effectiveness.

It behooves any student to study earlier and later works, because together they provide a far more complete examination of how smallswords were used. This is easier to do without bias: to apply the filter of late 19th/early 20th foil to 17th and 18th century foil jaundices our view and can lead us to the wrong conclusions.

New Year, New Approach

For some time now I’ve tried to “go with the flow” rather than attempt to establish some ideal approach to the club. This tends to help me to help those who want or need it, and, introduces me to a wide variety of opportunities I might not have had otherwise as well new people I might not have met.

A new day-job has forced me to make some significant changes, and has restricted my availability far more than I anticipated. I’m not happy about that, but rather than whine about it the more useful thing to do is adapt, so, I’m adapting.

What Changes?

First, the name–henceforth I’ll be using the name an affiliate program has used to date, Capital Escrime Historical Fencing, because my adult program will be shifting more toward this group in Salem than the meets-sometimes-group in Newberg. For the Newberg folks, you are not only welcome, but encouraged to join us in Salem (it’s a 30min. drive).

Second, while I will continue to teach sabre, I will not be taking any new sabre students at this time. Instead, I will focus on smallsword and “transitional” rapier as presented by Charles Besnard (1653). To my friends in the Italian tradition, please do not take this as a snub, because my love for Marcelli, Radaelli, and others is still strong, but for sabre in particular I need a break so a few injuries will heal.

Third, the Newberg group will meet, but every other week; I will meet the Salem group in the weeks between. See “For Current Students” for more details.

Salem Location
An old friend and fellow fencer, Moses Jones, has kindly invited us to share his space at his school, Seize the Vor [https://www.seizethevor.com/]. His school meets out of Iron Phoenix Athletics, and is just off of I-5 in Salem. Moses and I have a LOT of plans, and while the change-over might be a bit rough, there are good things to come.

For Those Upset by the Changes
I know that this will not work for everyone, and I’ll be sorry to see anyone go, but if possible I should like to help those for whom the new schedule/location doesn’t work find a good spot. There are a few decent options for historical fencing in the greater PDX area, and a lot of solid Olympic schools. Please chat with me and we can work something out for you or you child.

Technique Leak: Overcoming Issues in Cross-Weapon Fencing

I started the day off in a rapier lesson with one of the students with whom I’ve worked longest. I have often said that teaching is a two-way street, that both instructor and student—ideally—learn, grow, and improve as they work together. During one drill, my friend stopped, said “question,” and we stopped to chat. “Is there a reason you’re taking such a big second?” It was an easy observation, but one I had not made—was I? Was I taking too large a parry? He then asked “what else are you working on right now?” and then it hit me. What followed was a lovely chat about the ways in which different weapon tracks can “leak” into one another, something that can be a benefit, but in good cosmic equilibrium, can also work against us.

In this case, it was the latter, and I was grateful for his observation and said so. Focused as I was on the lesson plan, and on making purposeful mistakes, I didn’t notice an unintentional one, another insight Ken shared with me. There are many instances in which the instructor makes mistakes on purpose—it’s critical for teaching a fencer what to look for, how to take advantage of such issues, and it’s all valuable, but it’s sometimes a difficult thing to switch off, which is to say that a lot of us find ourselves struggling not to be in teacher mode when we’re bouting to bout.

The Drill

Here, the danger was not only my own overblown parry of second, but also undermining an otherwise valuable drill. At Ken’s level, we work on a lot of tactical set-ups, on second intention, traps, and ways to conserve energy. For me to drop the ball in any one section breaks the drill, and, potentially—were Ken not so aware—upsets the student’s learning. The drill in question started with a classic, workaday action:

Student: feint thrust to hand from 2^nd or 3^rd
Instructor: parries 4^th
Student: disengages to strike outside of the hand or arm

Next, we added a second exchange:

Student: feint thrust to hand from 2^nd or 3^rd
Instructor: parries 4^th
Student: disengages to strike outside of the hand or arm
Instructor: takes a half-step back, parries 2^nd, thrusts with opposition
Student: transitions from 2^nd to 3^rd to block, ripostes over the instructor’s weapon

In taking my parry of 2^nd so vertically, I made it a lot easier to hit me, something someone on their game would be less likely to do. After Ken’s correction, my parry reverted back to what it should be in this case, shallower, point closer to him, and danger way more real should he not cover.

Whither yon Leak?

It didn’t take me long to figure out what was happening. What I was doing in the instant was not so much taking 2^nd as it was dropping into what broadsword sources refer to as an “outside half-hanging” parry, that is, a block defending the same area as 2^nd, but which has the blade hanging more vertically. The “outside hanging” parry defends the upper half well in the same way.

For some time now I’ve been spending more time on “Old Style” broadsword. Thomas Page is the major source I am using, and the nature of that style of fight, never mind the change in heft and balance with a baskethilt, enables one to drop the blade more to parry in an outside half-hanger because the axis of rotation is the wrist, and, it’s thus quick for a riposte.

In rapier, such a deep parry is to invite a counter-attack or fail to cover a line, and so while there are similarities between them, they work differently. With Ken’s help, I now can start to work on better compartmentalizing these weapons.

Stopping the Leak

Awareness is the first step. Thanks to Ken, I am aware of that issue, and best of all, will double-check everything else I am doing.

Next, I drill both weapons with specific attention to the techniques unique to them. It always comes down to drill, more and more drill. I will also be far more mindful now, which is never bad, and with work not only will I fix some of these issues, but better serve my students.

As a coach of other fencers, and thus responsible for raising them up, challenging them, helping them reach the next goal, correct technique, just like proper timing, distance, everything, is a must. As a coach to other coaches, there is also benefit—each pitfall I encounter is another lesson for my colleagues, especially those starting out and yet unaware of problem X or issue Y. We are never finished learning, and, so long as we retain a “beginner’s mind,” we will continue to grow and be better able to make corrections as we discover places that require them.

The Value of Atypical Invitations

In addition to being one of my favorite works on sabre, Luigi Barbasetti’s The Art of the Sabre and the Épée (1899/1936) is a core text within the pedagogical system at Barbasetti Military Sabre (since 1895). Under the guidance of my friend and colleague, Maestro Michael Kňažko, I am steadily if slowly working towards further certification as a fencing instructor, and naturally much of the material we draw upon, and upon which I will be tested, consists of Barbasetti’s take on the Radaellian corpus. No matter how long I spend time with this text, I always find some new value in it, and/or come to understand something better than I did previously.

In another post I mentioned my long-standing dependence on Barbasetti, that it was the first book I read after leaving competition, and just how great the influence it has had in my approach to teaching. When I first started teaching on my own, which is to say without being ordered to by a master, I looked to Barbasetti and Del Frate for inspiration and lesson plans. My co-instructor at the time and I would sit down and pour over Barbasetti discussing lesson ideas, adaptation for new or more advanced students, and even now as I teach on my own this is a weekly practice.

In preparation for future examinations, but also because the book contains so much, I mine it weekly for drills, lesson plans, and exercises. This past week I decided to take my sabre students through a drill I had never had any of them do, a drill I have not used probably since 2016, namely, working from the invitation in 5^th.

There is some fuzziness between the guard, invitation, and parry of 5^th, and on first glance they may appear the same, but they are not. For the most part, 5^th does not constitute a guard, least not one anyone typically uses—held above and out from the head, to hold it long would be tiresome and limit one to certain actions. Second and third are vastly superior guards. As a parry 5^th is the stand-out, standard head parry, one of the first we learn. Though unusual, the invitation of 5^th is valuable, and while seemingly too open to be realistic, this is a false conclusion. Moreover, the benefits for working out of 5^th go beyond the tactical use of the invitation.

Here is, verbatim, the drill as Barbasetti laid it out:

In devising my sabre lesson this week this is the example with which I started. I changed a few things, added a few things, but this was the core of the drill. Post warm-up, the first thing I did was have the student invite in 5^th. This meant that the student more or less assumed the parry of 5th. [2] I would attack, first with a thrust, then a cut, and the student would drop from the invitation of 5^th to the parries of 2^nd or 1^st depending on where I was aiming. As two of the “first triangle” of parries, and working from the third, this is good foundational practice for covering those lines, and effecting good ripostes.

Next, we switched roles, so that the student made the attack. This portion of the drill was meant to help them work a simple feint. In 5^th, everything below is open, and so there are myriad feints one might make. I had them start with a feint thrust from 2^nd, and when I dropped to parry in second, the student made a molinello to the head. While this can be done from the lunge, I had them work this from advance-lunge range. This means that the preparatory action, the feint, was best made on the advance to force me to cover, and once I had, they could lunge with the actual attack. Since we spend so much time at this distance, it’s a good practice to put everything together in real time. From a stationary distance, we then moved back and forth and the student decided when to launch their attack, again, in an effort to resemble the conditions of a bout more closely.

The variation we added was a feint cut to the flank, which again I could cover in 2^nd, and which allowed them a chance to cut to the top-inside of the arm or head. A critical aspect of this version is coverage after the attack. Increasingly I have added in counter-measures to prevent being hit by suicidal fencers. The fetish for the “after-blow” and the practice of doubling when one is ahead in competition, while insipid nonetheless provide an opportunity to pay better attention to the dictum “don’t be hit.” Ever. In this case, a student might cut to the head, then cover in 4^th as they recover out of the lunge.

Next, the student feinted with a thrust or cut to the inside line to draw me into parrying in 1^st. This version allowed the student to work on cut-overs, either with a thrust in 2^nd and with opposition, or, a rising cut to the flank or bottom of the arm. To extricate themselves and avoid an after-blow, etc., a slight step left as they thrust with opposition or cut via molinello, moves them a bit offline, but also allows them a tempo to drop into 2^nd or 5^th depending on what response I give them.

Drills like this afford instructor and student a lot of options. They not only exercise fundamental actions, but also provide opportunities to work on getting to target and back out again safely. If a student is newer or struggling with the first action, one can stay there and work solely on that. If it is easy and they can perform the action with ease, one can build from there. Moreover, there are ways to make the lesson an exploration of tactical options, both offensively and defensively.

Often, and we see it in this case, the details provided in the drill are minimal, so the onus is on the instructor to know every aspect of each action, each idea, and how they can be combined and applied. As a final note, a drill such as this one provides a template for similar lessons, but in other weapons. My theme this week in smallsword was different—we worked almost exclusively on getting to target and back out safely—but looking over my notes I see that the actions I chose to drill all that were essentially the same actions I used in the sabre lessons, only with modification for the requirements of smallsword.

NOTES:

[1] Luigi Barbasetti, The Art of the Sabre and the Épée, New York, NY: E.P. Dutton & Co., Inc., 1936, 69. This is the fifth example in his section on feints with the cutting edge.

[2] In 3^rd, for example, the invitation could be just being in guard, or, taking a poor 3^rd, say leaving the inner or outer arm just barely exposed, the idea being to project a sense that one is careless and doesn’t know they’re open. One can merely take the parry position in 5^th.

Of Ranks and Cults

Today my friend and colleage, Jay, shared a video response to a concern several fencers aired on a fb page, namely, the problem with cultish programs. This is a real fear and justifiable given the fact that we do see groups who take advantage of members. It’s a shame, but it does happen. That could take many forms–perhaps students are charged for every little thing or to advance; perhaps they are expected to show absolute loyalty to some charismatic leader; perhaps they’re told not to fence with others because everyone but their own club is dangerous, or unskilled, or what have you. These are all red flags.

It’s important to me, and to Jay, because we work within an organization, Storica Defensa, that has already spooked a few people. There are, largely, personal reasons and/or prejudices that explain that, but some of those voices are loud and so we have done our best, all of us, to be as transparent as possible. There is no hidden knowledge we promise to “initiates,” there is no fee to advance, and each of the coaches is not only willing, but eager to demonstrate to potential SD fencers their qualifications. It’s only right we do so.

Moreover, we have been quick to state what we are not. None of us claim to be masters. We are not claiming any lineage, training, or certification we have not earned and/or which we cannot prove. We want everyone to know what they’re getting, and, why Xian and Jay created SD in the first place. Jay says it better than I can (see link below), but SD’s ranks do two things:

provide a set of goals, by skill-set, for students to help them improve [this also helps place them with people of similar skill level in events]
provide coaches with tools to teach more effectively

That’s it. As I often remind my own students, I didn’t invent any of the things I teach, but transmit what I learned to them. Sure, there are things I’ve added, tweaks here or there or suggestions, but these I always call out as such. None of us will be claiming to have invented the lunge… The why? is easily explained: historical fencing lacks these two things and desperately needs them.

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

[29 April 2024]

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

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

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

Come one, Come all

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

The Classes

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

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

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

Russ Feldenkraisening my wonky wrist; Coleman in mirror

FIGHT!

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

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

Gratitude

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

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

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

NOTES:

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

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

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

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

Why Storica Defensa?

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

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

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

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

My Own Involvement with Fencing Organizations

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

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

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

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

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

It’s about the Material—not Us

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

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

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

Storica Defensa’s Goals

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

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

Teaching:

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

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

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

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

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

Quality of Fencing:

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

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

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

Safer, Better-Officiated Competitions:

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

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

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

WhoTF Do we Think We Are?

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

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

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

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

What else?

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

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

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

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

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

Finally, and to correct misinformation out there:

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

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

NOTES:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

In brief, the ranks divide into the following:

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

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

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

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

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

[10] SD Informational Brochure, 2, 3.

What _is_ “Transitional Rapier?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What is the take away from this short sample of examinations? First, “transitional” rapier might refer to a few different styles of weapon–to different lengths and widths of blade, to different hilts. Second, the period of transition, which includes overlap in style preferences, is centered on the 17th century. Individual hilt styles varied, some coming in the 16th century for example, but for the most part we’re looking at the 17th century. Fourth, and for me most useful, is considering how these weapons were intended to be used. By and large, “transitional” rapier points to use of the sword alone, that is without a parrying dagger, buckler, rotella, or other off-hand options. Moreover, transitional rapiers were focused more on the thrust than the cut, and while many late 17th century treatises still included cuts, some, like Marcelli, did so for completeness and to remind the reader that in some cases they were an option, and some, like Besnard, only include them as harrassing actions in specific instances. Against those who hold the sword with two hands, half-sword style, a cut straight down the blade, whether one’s own blade is sharp or not, will be unpleasant.

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

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

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

A few sources I recommend:

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

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

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

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

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

NOTES:

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

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

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

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

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

The Event we _Need_: Rose & Thorns Historical Fencing Symposium

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

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

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

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

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

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

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