Tag: K.u.k. Armee Fechtturnier

Article on “Military” Sabre–Additional Thoughts

My friends in Canada shared an excellent article with me today, one by Paul Becker with the Historical Fencing Academy, Nordhausen, Germany [https://www.hema-academy.com/home]. Entitled “Military Fencing & Military Sabre?” Mr. Becker explores, through detailed examples from the Austro-Hungarian Empire, what constitutes “military” fencing in his view. Do please read his article–it is well-done and covers a lot of ground that too often is left untilled. Readers will find not only his coverage of texts, but his examination of period weapons useful.

The link is here: https://www.hema-academy.com/blog/militaerfechten-militrsaebel?fbclid=IwY2xjawNLfuhleHRuA2FlbQIxMABicmlkETFNWFhBeEROeVJiOVJtR2gwAR4f6JSN3yJQ-8Lx-JSo9nfDbVAMm34vfEm6-ObW6zQ2xp0spOmIVtM2ea1J4Q_aem_KNNZWoEg5WhCCc_VVMw0dw

If you’ve read much I’ve written, then you will know how much I tend to detest the separation of sabre into “dueling” and “military” in popular “HEMA.” These labels, while in some degree useful, obscure an important fact, namely that the very people using sabres for duels were normally military officers. To quote my good friend Alex Spreier, somewhat out of context, “sabre is sabre.” The problem is that we often feel we need or at least wish to differentiate what we study from related topics–sabre encompasses a vast, truly global tool, and so is perhaps especially prone to fall into categorizing nightmares.

As I’ve too often stated, in “HEMA” the use of “military sabre” is normally meant to separate out what the user is doing from the sport. There is some sense in this, though it is over-emphasized given the vast amount of common ground shared by those examining historical systems and the modern sport. It is, historically speaking, redundant in that sabre was by and large a military weapon. It’s like calling a howitzer a “military howitzer.” The use of national terms, e.g. “Italian sabre” or “Hungarian” or “Spanish sabre” makes a bit more sense, as it refers–one assumes–to texts from those cultures and often in their respective languages. How different these systems are from one another, and how much they overlap, is a separate issue.

There were, as Mr. Becker rightly points out, differences even in the period many of us study: there was sabre intended for war; sabre intended for duels; there was sabre for fun and which employed competitive rule-sets. The weapons were often different too. For reasons I’ll leave aside for now, not that I know all of them, “HEMA” has taken a fancy to the heaviest sabres it can find, sabres that are rubbish to fence with–this doesn’t mean they wouldn’t be useful when mounted or as sharp clubs, but even there for a weapon to be effective and not exhaust the user too quickly some compromise was generally found. No one should be fencing with a 1.81 kg or 4lb sabre. One can, but why?

If one takes the time to examine the sources, and we have a ton of them, for sabre between say 1850 and 1950, they will readily see just how varied the tools were. There is the example of Lt. Col. Eduard Wagner, a Czech army officer, who not only worked with the common 600-700g training sabre, but also the heavier cavalry tool (this was about 1 kg). For a second example, one might recall the scene that Leon Bertrand shares in his odd book Cut and Thrust: The Subtlety of the Sabre (1927) where an Italian master, Giuseppe Magrini, crosses blades with an unnamed English soldier, the former armed with lighter sabre, the latter with a blunted cavalry weapon. The Englishman was also armored cap-a-pie “in heavy canvas, shin guards and cage-like mask.” [1]

In terms of the abuse of adjectives, Mr. Becker specifically calls out Barbasetti Military Sabre, and as a member of that school, and moreover as one who spent the last few months doing all I could to learn its history, I feel compelled to offer an alternative view. Allow me first to say that in most respects I agree with my esteemed colleague–but, there may be context he doesn’t have for Barbasetti Military Sabre, Prague, and if that is so then perhaps I can fill in that missing piece for him.

Barbasetti, the Military, and Fencing in Czechia

Barbasetti visited Prague in 1895. While there was sabre in the Czech Lands, it didn’t appear on the map until after the master’s visit. The influence of Barbasetti on the Austro-Hungarian army was profound. Prior to the establishment of the independent Czech state in 1918, Czech officers serving the Empire were trained, like their colleagues, in Barbasetti’s method alongside their comrades in Austria. Some, like František Dvořák and Robert Tvarúžek, attended the school at the Theresianische Militärakademie Wiener Neustadt and became masters themselves. Important to note, it was K.u.k. Fencing Master Robert Tvarúžek who wrote Šerm Šavlí, the first sabre text in Czech. Tvarúžek presented Barbasetti’s method only in the Czech language. [2]

Moreover, when the Czech army set up its own program for sword instruction, they also chose Barbasetti. From 1918, through the 1920s and 1930s, Barbasetti‘s formed the fencing curriculum in the Czech Republic. One well-known master at Vyšší vojenská reálka v Hranicích (the Military Academy, Hranice) was staff captain Karel Sekanina. He was posted to Hranice in January of 1920, and is important to the current program in Prague because he was the master who taught Master Leonid Křížek’s teacher, Lt. Col. Eduard Wagner (d. 1984). Sekanina worked with Wagner three times a week from 1923 to 1925. [3]

For Barbasetti Military Sabre itself, as a club, the use of “military” distinguishes the school’s approach from that of its colleagues in Prague. There is a close association, for example, between Barbasetti Military Sabre and Český šermířský klub Riegel–their histories are intertwined. Even today, many of the masters who teach at BMS also teach or have taught and/or fence at ČSK Riegel, including Maestro Josef Šolc and his son Maestro Michael Šolc. [4]

In addition, the terms “Barbasetti Military Sabre” also speak directly to the school’s lineage. Maestro Leonid Křížek, a key instructor and scholar with the school, was taught by Lt. Col. Eduard Wagner, in the 1960s–the method that Wagner learned, and importantly taught thereafter, was Barbasetti’s system. Maestro Křížek taught Master Michael Kňažko, and both have been important mentors to me.

The use of the term “military” is not one anybody at BMS takes at face value or wishes to project under false notions. None of us are active duty military, so some titles that we might apply would be borrowed glory and in bad form to assume. For example, the K.u.k. Armee Fechtturnier, was for military personnel. To call the event that our club puts on the “Imperial Army Fencing Tournament” is too specific–we are, again, not in the army, nor are we members of a now defunct empire. However, “military” is appropriate because the modern event celebrates these important tournaments, and, uses the same weapons and format. “Military,” here, is an appropriate and descriptive adjective. To call it K.u.k. Militär Fecht-Turnier is descriptive and avoids any confusion were we to use Armee.

SO, What do We Call Sabre?

That’s up to you. For me, I prefer “Historical Fencing” and “Historical Sabre” as it’s general enough to cover most things and yet specific enough so that students don’t show up expecting me to make them Olympic champions. I’m not the guy for that. Interested parties will ask “what kind of historical sabre?” and then I can explain the specifics of what I research and teach. My club name here, one chosen by students, is “Capitale Escrime” because most live in the state capital, Salem, OR, and we fence. We put it in French because, well, it sounds better, but also because the vast majority of students study French smallsword. My sabre students, when they meet again, will do so as a North American satellite of Barbasetti Military Sabre headquartered in Prague.

NOTES:

[1] Leon Bertrand, Cut and Thrust: The Subtlety of the Sabre, London, UK: Athletic House Publications, 1927, 74-76.

[2] K.u.k. is an abbreviation of German Kaiserlich und königlich, or, “Imperial and Royal.” See for example https://www.visitingvienna.com/culture/k-k/

[3] For a full history of Barbasetti’s impact in Czechia, see https://www.ars-dimicatoria.cz/en/barbasetti-military-sabre-since-1895-2/

[4] See https://www.riegel1902.cz/index.html

Barbasetti as Bridge

Luigi Barbasetti, 1899/1936

When I left Olympic fencing competition, the first source I found, and have used ever since, was my uni’s copy of Luigi Barbasetti’s The Art of the Sabre and Epee. I still use the photocopy I made as my working copy for lesson planning, study, etc., and save the original English (1936), German (1899), and French (1931) for checking translation matters and enjoyment. Though I’ve not been asked often, there’s a question in the mind of many of my compatriots implicit in most any discussion about Barbasetti—why him? It’s a question I’d be happy to answer, and since I’m busy preparing for exams, this seems as good a time as any to share it.

The first reason is that Barbasetti presents a clear, well-organized, and well-explained manual. Not all fencing works are well-written, but his is, and it makes a difference—there is less to puzzle out and thus to question. Moreover, in writing The Art of the Sabre and Epee he makes his purpose explicit in the front matter, and it tells the reader more I think than they might realize. Barbasetti explains that his book is intended to aid three chief populations: prepare new masters, assist those instructors whose training may have been incomplete, and to help those fencers who wish to know more about particular aspects of the Art.[1] In short, it’s a book mostly geared towards coaches, and thus provides explanation in addition to listing techniques, actions, and drills. To be fair, most fencing manuals explain things in part, but not all explain them well or effectively.

Second, my own training in sabre was remarkably close to what I see in Barbasetti. Al Couturier, the master whom I spent the most time with, was a student of a Hungarian army officer (Joseph Vince) trained in Budapest when both Borsody and Santelli were transforming sabre.[2] Of note, Borsody was a student at Wiener Neustadt in 1898-1899, and thus attended the program when Barbasetti was its head.[3] I’ll not lie, in addition to feeling familiar, I found solace in reading Barbasetti in the mid-1990s, because it validated arguments I was making about sabre at a time when very few people saw the problems in the modern game and even fewer cared.

Third, and perhaps most germane here, Barbasetti—for me—represents the ideal expression of Radaellian sabre on foot. Let me reiterate—on foot. In no way do I wish to disparage the excellent works of Del Frate, Rossi, Masiello, or others, but what Barbasetti presents is a thoroughly Radaellian core with allowances made for the unique context of one-on-one fencing to cover any situation. This is one way in which he is a bridge: in Barbasetti’s time we had, for the last time perhaps, all three major roles of fencing in play at the same time: military, competitive, and fencing for the duel.

He taught at military schools, because fencing was a normal aspect of training until the middle of the Second World War. It was only then clear that the sword and mounted troops were obsolete. At the same time, Barbasetti taught competitors, most military, but still competitors and often those who competed in non-military contexts such as the Olympics.[4] Lastly, the duel was still a reality in both Italy and France, particularly within the military, and so the training had to work. In sum, Barbasetti’s approach to sabre retained the seriousness of the weapon’s use in earnest while at the same time helping shape the modern sport.

The importance of this for us, people living at a time when only competition and theater really have any claim to need fencing (if need is even the correct word), is that Barbasetti presents an approach that, Rosetta Stone-like, allows us to examine any of the then-extant expressions of the Art through a single filter. More than that, when one reads Barbasetti next to his fellow Radaellians, the connection is absolutely clear—he was not “less” Radaellian. His belief that the molinelli form the fundamental exercise for all good sabre fencing alone should indicate this, but the fact that he retained the elbow as the axis of rotation makes it all the more clear. His preference for the guard of second in the assault and duels, the importance of the thrust as both attack and preparatory action, and the body of technique and tactics he shares all demonstrate his training in the tradition.

However, his text is different, reads differently, and I think it’s because of the fact his approach is not limited to military instruction alone. Masiello’s Sabre Fencing on Horseback (1891), for example, is purely a military text. It’s a great example of late period cavalry technique, and thus a must-read for any student of the changes in mounted combat around the turn of the century, but for most fencers its less useful in their practical education. Del Frate, Rossi, and Masiello’s giant tome are far more so, and given their overall thoroughness, particularly with regard to Rossi and Masiello, even just one of their books can provide a fencer with a lifetime of material to learn and practice. Unlike Barbasetti, however, these three—and rightly—had in mind the needs of both soldier and regimental sword-master. As I have often pointed out, the needs of such fencers are not the same as those who compete or indeed ourselves today.

For a variety of reasons, “HEMA” has formed and embraced an insipid division of sabre into “military” and “dueling” sabre. This is yet another dead horse I need not beat here, yet again…, but briefly the mistake HEMA makes is in believing these are separate categories, even weapons, when sabre is, quite simply, sabre, and had multiple applications. If any additional term is needed, it would be “military,” but this is, honestly, redundant: all sabre was military or existed within a military context.

Barbasetti is one of many proofs that expose this error. Barbasetti was training men, some at least, who might need his skill and tutelage in all three scenarios. He didn’t write books for each, but one book. THIS is why his text is so good—it meets all the needs a sabreur of the time might have. It’s also one reason that Sabre Fencing is so valuable a text for us in historical fencing. It’s a bridge between applications of sabre, but also, a bridge between sabre of the earlier 19th century and sabre of the early 20th century.

NOTES:

[1] Barbasetti, The Art of the Sabre and Epee, 1936, xvii.

[2] For more on Vince, see https://westcoastfencingarchive.com/project/joseph-vince/

[3] See (https://szablyavivas.hu/borsody-laszlo/

[4] Among these competitions were events such as the K.u.k. Armee Fechtturnier, K.u.k. Military Fencing Tournament. The school where I am a student, Barbasetti Military Sabre (since 1895), holds an annual event dedicated to these tournaments and featuring the same classical weapons taught at the K.u.k. Theresian Military Academy in Wiener Neustadt: foil, sabre, and bayonet. It was held alternatively in Wien and Budapest in the years 1898 – 1914. For more information on Barbasetti Military Sabre, see https://www.ars-dimicatoria.cz/en/barbasetti-military-sabre-since-1895-2/