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/
Capitale Escrime Historical Fencing 