The previous 3 sections (1, 2, 3) of this series on Agrippa have focused on dissecting the framework of the stances and motions found in Agrippa’s fencing manual. Starting with these may have seemed an odd choice, as typically one introduces a fencing system by describing how to perform the basics. However, in my opinion, determining how to stand and move requires that we first understand the types of positions and motions that we will be required to perform.
Therefore, if you have not read the previous posts, please consider doing so before proceeding. It is my intention to provide an explanation of key aspects of the guards shown in Agrippa’s manual and to describe the results of my experimentation in putting those positions and movements into practice.
Key Features of Agrippa’s Guard:
The image above shows the four basic guards found in Agrippa’s manual. These include prima (A), seconda (B), terza (C), and quarta (D). In the first post I listed a set of shared characteristics that can be seen to be shared by these guards. Here I would like to expand upon those as well as the differences in both stance and guard, focusing on how they are performed.
The Legs and Feet:
In any fencing style, the legs form a platform that both supports and moves the body. Here we can see that when in guard, (i) the right foot is usually forward, (ii) that the body weight is held nearly exclusively on the front foot, and (iii) that the legs are bent.
As noted previously, there are essentially two stances, wide and narrow. The narrow stance is shown above in A and B. In order to form this stance, the feet are placed relatively close together such that the front foot is pointed towards your opponent. The feet are not parallel, and close attention to the details of A and B would suggest that they are placed at an approximately 45 degree angle from each other. We can also see that in the narrow stances, the heel of the back foot is off the ground. This positioning suggests that nearly all of the body weight is held on the front foot alone. Such a weight placement would make it relatively easy to move into a wide stance by moving the back foot backwards. The wide stance shown above also seems to place the body weight on the front leg. However, Agrippa notes that the wide stance moves the body away from the opponent slightly, which is something I have only been able to accomplish by allowing my weight to shift somewhat onto the back foot (~80% front, 20% back). The back foot in the wide stance also seems to be more firmly placed on the ground, which is consistent with it bearing at least some weight. Moving from a wide stance to a narrow stance is also rather easily accomplished by moving the back foot forward due to the relatively little amount of weight placed upon it. Furthermore, traverse steps (passing steps) can be easily performed with the back foot, ending in either a wide or narrow guard (O or N respectively).
On the other hand, the weight placement makes moving the front foot more difficult. It might be easy to conclude that picking up the front foot requires that the body weight be moved first, however such a technique would be relatively inefficient. However, my experimentation suggests that the front foot can be moved rather quickly forward or backwards from either stance if the appropriate body mechanics are used.
- The weight must be placed rather flatly or through the heel of the front foot. In my experimentation, placing the weight forward of the ball of the foot made it impossible to overcome the friction of the ground without launching myself *upwards* first. Likewise, the first motion of the action is to lift the toe.
- The pelvis and core must be held as a “rigid frame” in order to give your leg something to push. This will be discussed more in the next section.
- Movements are carried out by pushing with the legs. The front leg pushes backwards to move the front foot back (say from wide to narrow stance or past the back foot in a traverse step) and the back leg pushes forwards to move the front foot forwards (from narrow to wide, from wide to wider (“lunge”)). Notably, pushing is different from pulling or flinging, and seeing/feeling the difference for yourself may be difficult at first.
The Body:
It is important to consider that the positioning of the body remains relatively unchanged throughout all of the positions shown by Agrippa. While transitions between wide and narrow stances move the body slightly more forward or backward, the body itself remains in the same position relative to itself. The key feature that is likely the most important innovation in Agrippa’s manual and that underlies the entire Italian rapier system that follows is that the body is held leaning forward from the hips. Agrippa devotes the entirety of chapter 2 to describing how this angle increases the length of a thrust as shown in the accompanying figure shown below.
Figure 6: The advantage of leaning forward
This lean makes the stance somewhat difficult to perform and increases the required athleticism substantially. The major pitfall that students will need to overcome is a lack of core strength and engagement which will allow the back to curve. In order to perform this stance correctly, the back must be held straight and the tailbone must be tucked. We can see this in the images, as the backs are straight and this straight line continues into the buttocks. This is indicative of a tucked tailbone, as otherwise, the butt will “stick out.” If a fencer attempts the forward lean without keeping their tailbone tucked, their butt will stick out, their balance will be thrown forward, and it will make it difficult or impossible for the fencer to move as described above.
While we are focused on the body, we can also see that the body is held relatively profiled with the right shoulder forward. In general, this profiling seems less extreme than in later Italian rapier or in modern fencing, however the slight squaring may be due to the use of a dagger. We do see that the body is held in a more extreme profile in a few positions such as D and I. In any case, it is important to also note that the hips and shoulder are aligned vertically. It is a common mistake for fencers to push their left shoulder into profile while leaving their hip squared. This is not what is depicted and leaves the spine awkwardly twisted.
The Arm and Sword:
When we look at the placement of the arms and weapons of the fencers in these images, we can see that in general, the sword points towards the opponent, is somewhat extended, and that is held in-line with the forearm. These characteristics seem to be refinements based on Agrippa’s nearly exclusive focus on the thrust, as this positioning makes it easy to deliver quick, long thrusts. In chapter 3, Agrippa describes how by extending and raising the arm, that the distance of a thrust can be lengthened, illustrating this with figure 7 shown below.
Figure 7: How extending the arm and bending the knee increase distance
Agrippa is generally credited with refining fencing to four guards, however, the four guards he describes are identical to guards that were already present in the Bolognese system of fencing where they are roughly equivalent to guardia de alicorno, coda lunga e stretta, porto di ferro e stretta, and guardia de faccia. Furthermore, while Agrippa seems to be the first to call them prima, seconda, terza, and quarta, I would contest that the simplification of fencing to these 4 guards wasn’t particularly new. We see a reduction to these same four guards 30 years earlier in Manciolino’s advice for fencing with the sharp sword, spado da filo. We see them again in Dall’Agocchie’s advice for preparing for a duel in 30 days, published 1 year before Agrippas manual. (EDIT: I got the date switched in my head with Viggiani. Dall’Agocchie was published in the 1570’s, not the 1550’s. However, Viggiani’s guards are both numbered and named, suggesting that applying a numerical system isn’t something super novel in Agrippa’s manual. Also, if we look at the three guardia perfecta shown by Viggiana, we will see that they are ultimately alicorno, porto di ferro e stretta, and coda lunga e stretta from the Bolognese tradition and ultimately mirror Agrippa’s prima, terza, and quarta.) Indeed, we can even see an emphasis on the equivalent guards, ochs and pflug, within the German longsword tradition. Certainly we might give Agrippa credit for stripping away all of the other guards, however, there’s a simple reason for doing so; none of the other guards can be used to deliver a straight thrust.
The formation of these guards is relatively straightforward, Agrippa describes them in chapter 1 as follows:
Prima – The sword is held above the shoulder in the position that a sword would end in first after being drawn from its scabbard. Note that the elbow is not bent, but that there is an angle formed at the wrist such that the sword points at the opponent.
Seconda – According to Agrippa, if the sword is lowered to shoulder height from prima, you will be in seconda.
Terza – Agrippa notes that from seconda, if you lower your hand towards your knee and move it more to the outside, you will be in terza.
Quarta – Finally, from terza, if you move your hand to the inside of the knee, you will be in quarta.
It is worth noting that while the pictures show the rotation of the hand from palm to the outside in prima to palm up in quarta (as is the common definition of the four guards in other Italian rapier manuals), Agrippa does not mention this in the text. Furthermore, Agrippa’s placement of quarta on the inside of the right knee is not a requirement for quarta in later rapier manuals, and suggests a closer relationship with the porto di ferro e stretta guard from the Bolognese tradition.
Other notes: The sword arm should be rather relaxed with the elbow pointed downward. Fencers should avoid curling their arm inwards, which can occur either due to tightness in the shoulders or a lack of strength to hold the sword. Thrusts should be delivered by extending the arm smoothly rather than by “punching” with the sword arm. Likewise, motions that combine an extension of the arm with footwork should probably be performed by moving the arm first (though Agrippa is not explicit about this as other fencing manuals are).
First, a note: If you submit a comment and it does not post, please email me at otownes AT gmail DOT com and let me know.
About the blog:
This blog began as a series of e-mails to help train my local SCA rapier practice in melee. In 2008 I decided to start maintaining it as a blog instead, hopefully to reach a wider audience but mostly to have a readily accessible archive for new members of the practice. I foolishly called it Wistric’s Weekly Warfare and thereby made a certain commitment regarding posting frequency (which, statistically speaking, we maintain to this day).
It morphed over time as my rapier pursuits developed into a place to document my thoughts on melee, as well as my experience as a fencer trying to improve and a student of historic martial arts.
In 2011 I received my White Scarf and I decided to open up this platform to others, especially my students. I have no doubt it helped me earn that Scarf, possibly through self-promotion, mostly through forcing myself to think more about what I was doing as a fencer and the feedback I received. At that point it became the Weekly Warfare.
Our contributor list has expanded since then and with it the range of topics and depth and breadth of knowledge. New contributors are always welcome – even the neophyte has a perspective and personal experience that will inform fencers and teachers of all experience levels. Academic writing skills and knowledge are not required – if they were the Warfare would be better off without me as a contributor.
If you’re reading this, please give feedback. “I agree” is fine. “I disagree” is better. “I disagree and this is why” is even better. This is a crucible in which to refine ideas and pick the brains of the audience for how to better understand the Art we do.
If you’d like to know more about a topic, just ask. We’ll see if somebody wants to take a swing at writing about it, or even help you do so.
Enjoy, and thank you for visiting!
Yours,
Wistric, Editor-in-Chief
The presence of a lunge in Agrippa’s system is a somewhat controversial topic. One of the earliest historical fencing scholars, Edgarton Castle noted in his 1885 book, Schools and Masters of Fence from the Middle Ages to the Eighteenth Century, that while some of the positions shown in Agrippa’s manuals appeared to be lunges, that the development of the lunge occurred later. In other words, it was Castle’s opinion that there is no lunge in Agrippa’s system.
The putative “lunges” seen in Agrippa. Position H illustrates a strike in seconda; Position I illustrates a strike in quarta.
Using the framework that I worked out in parts 1 and 2 of this Agrippa series, one might reach a similar conclusion. Certainly there are two positions that stand out as appearing to be lunges, H and I. Both of these positions demonstrate a fencer in a somewhat wide stance with sword extended. However, before continuing, it is necessary for us to consider what constitutes a lunge.
Based on my own familiarity with later Italian rapier manuals, I would classify a lunge as:
- A thrusting strike carried out by extending the sword, arm, and body
- that extends the front (right) foot forward while keeping the back (left) foot firmly planted on the ground, and
- that ends in an extra-ordinary (extra wide) stance.
If we look at positions H and I (shown above), we can see that they appear to meet the first criteria. Likewise, if we were to look through Agrippa’s second book, we can see that tactically, both positions H and I are commonly used as a strike following a pressing forward of the front foot from a narrow stance, fulfilling the second point. It is however, this third point that gives me pause in definitively stating that there is a lunge in Agrippa. The descriptions of H and I suggest that they are examples of a wide, rather than extra-wide stance. Now this certainly may not be a problem, as the lunge in Agrippa may simply be particularly conservative. However, if the lunge ends in a wide stance, then we ultimately cannot perform a “lunge” when we’re already in a wide stance, which seems problematic.
Figure 6
The strongest arguments for the presence of the lunge come from chapter 2 which describes the figure shown above. Agrippa’s description tells us a few things:
- A longer thrust is better
- Leaning the torso forward causes a single angle (at the armpit/shoulder) between one line formed by the sword and arm and another formed by the body and leg.
- Arm + sword length is constant, so moving the shoulder forward (and down) moves the point forward (and down) proportional to the angle formed at the shoulder.
- Bringnig the (right) foot forward allows you to increase this angle further, bringing your shoulder and point even further forward.
The mechanics described here certainly echo the mechanics of the lunge in later Italian rapier manuals. Furthermore, Agrippa notes that the placement of the feet here represent a transition from a narrow stance to a medium stance, a medium stance to a wide (ordinary) stance, and from a wide stance to an extra-wide (extra-ordinary) stance. He notes that these transitions are carried out by performing a half-step (0.5 palm), full ordinary step (1 palmo), or a forced step (1.5 palmo) respectively. This makes it clear that Agrippa is aware of extra-wide stances, indeed, this figure is a geometric proof of the Italian lunge that we see in later manuals
We can see some evidence of a “lunge” being used by Agrippa in chapter 4 where, in his description of position A, Agrippa writes “… extend your arm while rotating your hand, and step forward with your right foot to hit him.” This description suggests a firm-footed attack as we would expect from a lunge. It is, however unclear about whether such a step from a narrow stance (A) ends in a wide (I) or extra-wide stance. For what it’s worth, Agrippa does not note that this places the fencer in position I. Perhaps more convincingly, Agrippa makes a similar comment in chapter 6 where he is describing the use of terza (C). He writes “… by going on guard in wide third, you can at your pleasure step forwards a half palmo with the right foot while keeping your left foot firm, moving your body forwards so that your right shoulder is perpenducular over your knee and so thrust against the enemy with the advantage of more than 3 palmi of reach.” This passage very clearly suggests extending the stance from wide to extra-wide.
Indeed, I would suggest that performing this action would place the fencer along line G from figure 6, a position that is quite similar to the lunge seen in Capo Ferro, Fabris, and Giganti. These references are, however, the only place in the book where this type of strike gets mentioned. When Agrippa is not telling the reader to strike his opponent using a void (G,P, K), he tells them to strike the opponent using H or I.
Ultimately this leaves us with two possibilities. The first of these is that there is no lunge in Agrippa. However, as Agrippa provides a geometric proof of a lunge, describes an action that seems to match the lunge, and includes positions that are tactically used in a similar fashion, I would expect that this is incorrect. However, it may be reasonable to conclude that either the lunge as seen in later Italian rapier manuals is not central to Agrippa’s system.
Another possibility, however, is that we could consider the positions of H and I to describe the lunge. Despite being described as a wide stance, we may find that Agrippa intends for a more conservative “lunge” for any number of reasons. Furthermore, when we look at the context of how these positions are used throughout the manual, we will see that strikes in H and I exclusively follow from a narrow stance (primarily B or F). It may also be the case that the reader is intended to interpret positions H and I to use whatever stance is necessary in order to strike the opponent (either wide or extra-wide). Agrippa is, however rather explicit regarding stance throughout most of the manual, so such an interpretation may not be reasonable. Of course, the conception of a lunge as an entity in and of itself may be incorrect. Likewise, my third criterion, that a lunge result in an extra-wide stance could simply be incorrect as well. In any case, I think it would be reasonable to consider that positions H and I resemble lunges in both form and function and it wouldn’t be inappropriate to consider them as such when teaching and learning Agrippa’s fencing system.
I went to KWAR! Some observations:
- C&T melee is the best (but we already knew that)
- Rapier spears are problematic (but we already knew that)
- If you don’t wear a white scarf in a foreign kingdom, people assume you’re a goob until you prove otherwise (but we mostly already knew that)
- Sport fencers seem to have some strange ideas about historical fencing (we were disappointed to learn this again)
- Despite the above, historical fencing is alive and well in the SCA, and even developing to new heights, although you do have to look for it (we doubted this one)
- There’s some correlation between skill at fencing and SCA rank, but there is frightfully little correlation between skill at teaching and SCA rank, and apparently an inverse correlation between the ability to accurately assess one’s skills at teaching and SCA rank.
“Teaching Movement (And Most Everything Else)” is now on my list of University class ideas. But you came here for swordfighting. It is given.
KWAR C&T Tourney
Held in the evening after classes. Fencers were divided into four pools. Each fencer took a turn “holding the floor” against all others in his pool (so A fought B, C, and D in immediate succession; after a break, B fought C, D, and A; and so on, until everyone had fought everyone twice). Each bout was three passes each. Each pass was fought to the first valid blow, scored accordingly:
- 4 points for a clean hit to a kill target (head, neck, torso, or legs)
- 3 points for a clean hit elsewhere (arms and hands)
- 2-1 for an afterblow, weighted for the first strike
- 0-0 for a double
The top scorers in each pool advanced to the finals – a straight round-robin with the same scoring system. Top scorer in the finals won the tournament.
(As an interesting aside, this scoring is very close to a tournament structure Dante posited following my Swordfish complaints. I thought three bouts were better than Dante’s one. And the “holding the floor” element is similar to how Gawin has suggested we run round-robins in the past. So I imagine we’ll all like this style.)
No system is un-gameable, but whether from SCA chivalry or a prevalence of historical styles and tactics among the competitors, admirably good fencing resulted.
My Performance
I drew the easiest pool, and dominated. Of my 18 passes, I believe only two resulted in afterblows (one for, and one against me). Everything else was clean.
In the finals, I was dominated. At this point in the day I was dehydrated and stiff and a little tired, but it wouldn’t have mattered; I was outclassed by people who’d been doing C&T way longer, and using their secondaries far better.
Vs Vincent (George Silver):
– First pass: he cuts my dagger-hand. 0-3
– Second pass: I feint low, he cuts to my sword-arm. 0-3
– Third pass: I strike under the buckler and parry (or void) the afterblow. 4-0
Vs Kai (LVD):
– First pass: he cuts to my head. 0-4
– Second pass: he thrusts under my arm. 0-4
– Third pass: inconclusive, re-fought
– Fourth pass: he cuts to my wrist. 0-3
Vs LOGOS (Fabris):
– First pass: he feints and yields around the dagger. 0-4
– Second pass: he beats and strikes between the weapons. 0-4
– Third pass: he feints and strikes between the weapons. 0-4
But hey, video! That means time for detailed analysis and learning. Take a look! I’m interested in your comments; mine will come next week.
I’ll conclude by saying nearly every fencer I saw in this tournament had perfect calibration, and was a pleasure to fight against. The finalists were all great examples of historic fencing.
My recent efforts to decipher Agrippa’s fencing manual has me thinking a lot about the types of evidence that are available to us as historical fencing scholars. As students of historical European martial arts, we are faced with the challenge of attempting to recreate techniques that have been out of use for 500 years or more based exclusively on a small number of documents. In doing so, we often must rely on outside information in order to successfully recreate the art, however it is important to consider the types of evidence that can be used, the limitations of these sources, and the order in which we should give them priority. For the vast majority of fencers, the types of sources, in order of importance are as follows:
- The text in the manual
- The images in the manual
- Other related manuals
- Other martial arts principles/ human body mechanics/secondary sources
- Empirical testing
I just read it for the articles…
Certainly the placement of the primary sources themselves at the top of this list should be no surprise. With several centuries between us and historic fencing masters, the closest we can come to them is by reading the words that they wrote in their books. For most modern students, this type of evidence must be viewed through the lens of a translator, however the last 10 years have provided multiple translations of several manuals and a growing ability for scholars to access scans of the original texts themselves which can be combined to help rule out biases introduced by translation. Unfortunately, the treatises themselves tend to be focused largely on “what” to do rather than “how” to do it, assuming a certain level of fencing knowledge on the part of the reader which is not always the case for modern practitioners.
A Picture is Worth 1000 Words
Because of this limitation, we frequently must use other evidence in order to figure out the mechanics of historical fencing actions. The second best evidence we have comes from the pictures found in historic manuals. In my recent attempts to unpack Agrippa’s manual, I’ve needed to rely rather heavily on the images presented in the manual. However, there is a (sometimes big) problem with relying on the images, namely that they are not photographs and can therefore include mistakes made by the artist or may reflect aesthetic ideals (e.g. body proportions, musculature, posture) rather than reality. Likewise, as scholars, it is not always clear what the relevant parts of an image are and therefore we may miss details. On the other hand, images don’t require translation, can show us much more about “how” we must stand/move than the text, and were generally included by the master for a reason. We must be careful, however that we neither over-interpret pictures nor fail to notice nuance that they may present.
… unless he has studied his Agrippa…
We can also use evidence from other, related historical manuals. If our goal is to learn to fence according to a particular manual, we can reasonably apply principles from other, related historic treatises to help fill-in-the-gaps. This is possible to varying degrees depending on the manual(s) that you are interested in studying. For example, if a scholar is interested in fencing according to Capo Ferro’s manual, they will find that other Italian manuals from the same period such as Giganti and Fabris will be highly relevant to helping to supplement Capo Ferro’s manual. Furthermore, that scholar may also find that other Italian manuals are also relevant, and such a scholar would be well-served to explore Agrippa, Manciolino, Marozzo, Alfieri, etc. These manuals describe fencing systems that are further removed from Capo Ferro than say, Giganti’s, but they all roughly fall within the same tradition. In contrast, while studying German manuals may help that scholar develop a better understanding of body mechanics, sword use, etc, their contents will not directly apply to understanding Capo Ferro’s system.
Mind the Gap
Unfortunately for all of us, in many cases the historic manuals don’t tell us enough information about historic fencing systems to definitively declare that we have “gotten it right.” In these cases, modern scholars must 1) Fill in the gaps with something and 2) Determine a method by which to test whether those substitutes are good. There are essentially two methods for doing this, one is to apply principles and techniques that have a solid basis in human biomechanics and/or other martial arts, the other is to apply empirical testing (i.e. try it out and see if it works reliably). The major dangers for using these types of evidence are due to our limitations as scholars. For the most part, western martial arts are the purview of amateurs. Few of us are experts in other martial arts, and even fewer of those can elucidate the fundamental mechanical principles that underlie those arts. Likewise, our empirical testing is significantly limited by sample size.
It’s the Principle of the Thing
While the details of other martial arts may not be directly applicable to the system that we are attempting to study, all martial arts rely on the application of certain physical principles based on the mechanics of the human body, weapons, etc. Once again, some martial arts will be more directly applicable than others, but ultimately what we are seeking to learn at this level is the underlying principles as, once we understand these, we can start to determine the trade-offs and optimizations that are present in our chosen system of study. The pitfalls in using this type of evidence are the possibility of over-generalizing details, mistaking details for principles, and failing to understand the context that determines how to apply the principles.
For example, one area of contention in the interpretation of Italian rapier combat is the placement of weight on the foot. Should fencers place their weight on the ball of their foot or their heels? The manuals themselves do not explain this in the text, and the pictures aren’t clear on this detail either. One way of answering this question is to look at other martial arts, sports, etc to see what they are doing and, in this case, it is likely that if you did so, you would conclude that the weight should be placed on the balls of the feet. However, the conditions of Italian Fencing aren’t necessarily the same as in those other martial arts, so we might be over-generalizing a detail that is present in other martial arts. Seeing several examples of weight placed on the balls of the feet, we might also convince ourselves that this sort of weight placement reflects a broader martial principle, in which case, we would be confusing a detail with a principle. Finally, we might find some examples where weight is placed on the heels, but conclude that we cannot apply this to our current understanding of the Italian rapier guard. This may be due to a failure to recognize other features of the guard that are necessary in order to make placing the weight through the heels useful.
Weird Science
For those of you who know my profession (scientist) it may be surprising that I have listed empirical testing last. However, recall that this ordering is specifically meant for most historical martial artists. However, the problem with empirical testing for historic martial arts is that our disorganized nature and relative amateur status means that few if any practitioners are able to meet the basic requirements of producing good experimental research. Importantly, empirical testing requires that we:
- Constrain what we are testing to falsifiable questions
- Rule out confounding factors
- Demonstrate that our findings are repeatable
Constrain what we are testing to falsifiable questions
The first step is the easiest, however it requires a certain awareness of the body mechanics such that the component pieces of a stance/action can be separated from each other in order to be tested separately. Even many skilled fencers are incapable of elucidating “how” their body moves while fencing. And so, many attempts to fill-in-the-gaps fail by simply asking useless questions. Furthermore, we must determine a metric by which to judge our results. Within the current state of historic fencing scholarship, winning has been treated as the primary metric. However, there are significant limitations to this approach. For starters, the pool of opponents may not be particularly good, which makes this metric prone to reaching false positive conclusions (X worked, therefore X is correct). Similarly, the rulesets for competition may be a poor simulation of historical combat as was discussed in Ruairc’s post last week. Once again, ahistoric techniques may be optimal for winning and it would be a mistake to then conclude that such techniques are actually historical.
Rule out confounding factors
While the first of these steps is hard, the second is far more difficult. Once again, the ability of a scholar to rule out confounding factors relies heavily on their ability to understand how to break actions into parts. The nature of fencing already makes this difficult, and it sometimes is not possible to manipulate small parts of an action without also disrupting other parts. At this stage, the biggest pitfall is that we will reach conclusions that are simply unfounded. A frequent example of problems at this level include the belief that a fencer must swing hard in order to make certain techniques work. These fencers are failing to separate the confounding effect of force from failures in their mechanics. Once again, such mistakes can lead us to conclude that techniques are historical when they are not, but here we are also more likely to make type II errors (false negatives) by concluding that techniques do not work when they actually do (because we have failed to rule out confounding factors and/or are missing a relevant factor).
Demonstrate that our findings are repeatable
The third step of empirical testing is nearly impossible given the current status of historic martial arts scholarship. In order for us to reach a reasonable conclusion that an action is “correct” for a given system based on empirical testing, we must replicate that finding and, this does not only mean that we must, as an individual, be able to perform it reliably, but that it must be able to be performed by other people reliably. It is not enough to be able to conclude that an action is correct simply because you can do it reliably. Any conclusion that has not been put into practice by a reasonable number of people cannot be considered to have been well-supported by empirical testing. This poses a major problem for historic martial artists because there are very few situations where this type of testing is even possible. I would expect that rigorous testing would take the form of several instructors implementing such an experimental technique within their students and then testing 1) whether the technique works for the instructor 2) whether the technique fits well within the instruction of students and 3) whether the technique works for the students. Having this occur in multiple groups helps to control for confounding variables and will also likely be necessary to produce a sufficient number of practitioners in order to generalize any claims based on such an experiment. The worst failures of this part of empirical testing result in echo chambers where strange and unusual techniques are considered correct and good.
In Conclusion
For historical fencing scholars, having a good understanding of the types of available evidence for historical fencing techniques and the limitations of these types of evidence is very important. This knowledge can help fencers to avoid pitfalls, improve their ability to interpret historical texts, help to ascertain the veracity of claims by other historic fencers and, perhaps most importantly, help them to develop as a historical fencer in an efficient manner.
Swordfish 2015, the premier HEMA event in the world, happened on Halloween weekend. As always, the amount of actual HEMA that showed up was variable. Longsword was kinda beautiful. Rapier and dagger, on the other hand … well, you be the judge:
http://content.youplay.se/players/single/live/159/299
Let’s start with the acknowledgement that HEMA tournaments aren’t trying to be a simulation of a real fight (or even historical, for that matter, as page 3 attests). But I find fault with the idea of using these competitions as a training tool for HMA if 1) you use “HEMA” to describe what you’re doing, despite the fact that 2) fencers demonstrate very little HMA, and nonetheless 3) medals and other markers of legitimacy are awarded to high performers. From a simple sport-cultural perspective, tournaments and competitions are what we train for, not what we train with. Call it an exhibition, and I’d be happier.
Maybe it’s semantic. Regardless, if the best fencers at your HEMA event are fighting in a blatantly ahistorical fashion, I daresay you’ve done something wrong.
Which returns me to an earlier question: what set of rules might best promote some sort of periodesque combat? Wistric’s observations remain valid, but I thought I might make an attempt at crafting something myself.
Considerations
From a historical perspective, these are my principal pet peeves with this year’s Swordfish (and a lot of tournament HEMA in general):
- Defense is not prioritized by the fencers. Few exchanges are clean. This is (at least partly) a consequence of fully-weighted afterblows in a zero-sum environment. There’s little reason not to attack, even (or especially) when your opponent is attacking.
- There is minimal gradation in scoring. A light thrust delivered at the edge of measure is weighted the same as a thrust that could actually hurt someone.
- Related to the first point, action is halted after a hit. This means fencers don’t need to worry about their safety past the first or second decisive action.
- The idea of a time limit is weird, since it encourages more aggressive fighting, but also puts a fencer who’s behind under pressure to attack, while the fencer who’s ahead can attempt to run out the clock rather than actually fight. Yes, this paradigm (fighting strategically based on scoreboard position) will always exist to some degree, but it could be softened significantly if the timed element was removed.
- The blades provided may not be very good simulators of weapons used in a historical rapier/dagger duel.
- Judging takes too long.
How to address these?
Removing time pressure seems like a good idea all around. That part is easy.
Dante favors the idea that double hits should award both fencers zero points (and possibly end the bout). When combined with a round-robin-style tournament, where points are counted rather than wins, this would be a very effective disincentive. But I’d like to do the same in a typical tournament setting. Dante’s ideas won’t work out so well here. History has shown that if doubling can prevent an opponent from scoring, fencers will double, a lot. Longpoint tried to discourage this by declaring that after three doubles, the bout would be ended, and the “winner” would start his next bout at a four-point disadvantage. It’s an idea.
I do think that a better solution here is to give more power to judges. HEMA has already accepted the necessity (and fallibility) of judges, so why not give them the tools and leeway to penalize double hits or other sloppy fencing?
Allow judges to award points based both on the severity of the blow delivered (the location, the type of strike, and how well the strike was performed) and the mastery a fencer demonstrates over his weapon and his opponent – avoiding double-strikes, etc. Since the latter consideration is a bit more subjective, perhaps weight it half as much.
Spitballing this: fencers earn up to 10 points per pass – up to seven based on how much damage they would have caused with their strike, had it been with a sharp weapon, and another plus or minus three for demonstrating mastery.
Let’s see how all this might work out.
20-Point Format
The goal is to get to 20 points before the other guy. (Or higher, if you want. The exact number is kinda irrelevant. Throw in a win-by-5 “satisfaction” rule, maybe add “sudden death after five minutes” to address time concerns. Whatever.) Each fencer is awarded points after each phrase.
Fencers fight from “Lay-on” to “Halt”, called by a referee. “Halt” is NOT called immediately after an apparent strike; rather, “Halt” is called when:
- After an apparent strike, fencers break measure.
- Fencers come to corps-a-corps and are no longer fencing (stabbing wildly or grappling).
- A fencer steps out of bounds.
- A safety issue or rules infraction occurs.
After “Halt” is called, each judge gives each fencer a score for the phrase. (Abstentions are allowed.) The referee should attempt to restart the match within just a few seconds, so judges should be fluent enough to make their assessments quickly.
Judges award between 0 and 10 points per phrase. Some relevant considerations and benchmarks:
Significance
- Blade Contact: 1 point. An action producing superficial wounds, if any.
Ex: a slap with the flat; a draw to the torso (assumed to be covered by clothing)
- Minor: 3 points. An action resulting in a slight wound, unlikely to impair the fencer much.
Ex: a thrust to the arm; a cut to the ribs; a shallow thrust to the flank
- Telling: 5 points. An action producing a wound unlikely to be immediately fatal, but likely to impair or be fight-ending; a wound from which one could claim satisfaction in a period duel.
Ex: a cut to the arm or thigh; a cut to the head; a deep thrust to the abdomen
- Devastating: 7 points. An action with potentially fatal results.
Ex: a thrust to the face; a thrust through the ribs; a draw to the neck
- Ring Out: A fencer is awarded 5 points if his opponent steps out of bounds.
Quality
- Plus or minus 1 point (maybe 2 in extreme circumstances) for particularly good or bad structure.
Ex: a fencer lands a thrust to his (immobile) opponent’s shoulder with a particularly large yielding action. His sword cannot penetrate far given the extreme angle. He is awarded 2 points (3 for significance, -1 for quality).
Ex: in response to a bind, a fencer turns a roverscio to his opponent’s face, aided by a strong, well-balanced oblique step. The blow lands right at the blade’s center of percussion. The fencer is awarded 6 points (5 for significance, +1 for quality).
Ex: after an inconclusive flurry, a fencer delivers a wild, flailing thrust to his opponent’s face. He is awarded 5 points (7 for significance, -2 for quality).
Multiple Strikes
- If a fencer scores multiple hits in a phrase, score the highest, then add 1-2 points for additional blows of significance.
Artfulness
- Double Hits/Afterblows: A penalty is assessed against fencers who fail to close the line when striking or recovering. Double-hits penalize both fencers. The penalty may be mild (-1 point) for “responsible” fencers who make an effort to defend themselves, moderate (-2 points) for fencers who abandon the line, relying on tempo or measure for safety instead, or harsh (-3 points) for fencers who outright ignore control of the line in order to strike.
Ex: in response to a feint, a fencer turns his hand into a stop-thrust in prima at eye level. His opponent comes forward anyway, and runs onto the sword as he thrusts to our fencer’s chest. A judge awards our fencer 5 points (7 for significance, -2 for the double hit), while the opponent earns 4 (7 for significance, -3 for the double hit).
Ex: our fencer performs Fabris’ plate 32, yielding to the outside in quarta while performing a girata to get past the opponent’s point. Before our fencer can recover, the opponent throws a short, weak cut to his mask. Our fencer earns 6 points (7 for significance, -1 for the double) while the opponent earns 2 (5 for significance, -2 for quality, and only -1 for the double since he attempted to defend himself in the previous tempo).
Ex: our fencer feints high, drawing a parry. He then drops his tip, striking his opponent in the foot. As he attempts to recover, his opponent turns a cut onto our fencer’s arm. Our fencer earns 1 point (3 for significance, -2 for the double), and the opponent earns 4 points (5 for significance, -1 for the double).
- Brawling: A small penalty may be assessed for “brawling” – disordered combat at corps-a-corps, use of grapples or holds, and other techniques which do not rely on the blade interactions, judgement of timing and distance, and other skills that comprise fencing.
Ex: a fencer grabs his opponent’s guard before cutting him across the head. He scores 4 points (5 for significance, -1 for brawling).
Ex: a fencer body-checks his opponent out of bounds. He scores 3 points (5 for significance, -2 for brawling).
Ex: after an inconclusive flurry, both fencers close to dagger range and begin stabbing each other repeatedly. Each is awarded 2 points (5 for significance, +2 for multiple hits, -3 for “suicidal” doubles, -2 for brawling).
Unsporting Conduct
- A fencer judged to be exploiting the rules (purposefully closing to corps-a-corps to end the phrase, or “running away” to run out the clock) or fencing in an ungentlemanly manner may be warned, then penalized by the judges or referee according to the severity of the infraction.
These are benchmarks; the idea of such a granular system is that judges have the wherewithal to quantify ad-hoc sentiments. “That thrust was to the chest, but the angle wasn’t good; I’ll give it a 3.” Or “that cut looked like it landed on the head, but maybe it was the clavicle – hard to tell from where I’m standing. I’ll split the difference and give it 4.” Since scores are averaged across judges, minor differences of opinion shouldn’t matter too much.
Scores over 7 should be uncommon, demonstrating above-and-beyond domination of the opponent and high marks in all the above categories (minimally, high significance, good structure, and no double-hits). A beautiful “through the left eye” counterattack deserves an 8; if followed with an immediate cut to the head, it might score a 9. Earning 10 points would require something like a picture-perfect plate 178, or several unanswered thrusts to the chest – something inspiring the “flawless victory” sense in all spectators.
Incentives
This is, admittedly, not the most parsimonious system. It will require confident and experienced judges. But I like how the game theory stacks up.
As far as encouraging historical technique, I think it’s important to make e.g. toe shots allowed but suboptimal (particularly if fencers are forced to use simulators with more period characteristics). If you’re great at sniping toes and your opponent can’t handle it, go ahead and ride those 2- and 3-point shots to victory. But you should soon face an opponent who can, at which point I imagine you’ll be swiftly defeated. A solid strike, as we might see in the manuals, is worth twice or three times as much as an insignificant sword-tag wound.
The defensive mindset is, hopefully, encouraged. An excellent fencer can win with three to four solid hits, particularly if they’re clean, so it’s difficult to get a comfortable lead. Double-hits are penalized, but fencers cannot “take one to give one” effectively, or completely invalidate a good hit with a meaningless afterblow. Certainly, a fencer who’s ahead can try to play the double-hit game, but it could go very poorly for him if his opponent can void the shot, or at least make it strike a less valuable target.
Hand parries will give your opponent a point for making contact, so in order to be worth it, they must prevent or set up a more valuable strike. This seems well in line with how they are used historically. The over-active offhand (often present in the SCA) is not a strategy the masters advocate.
At any rate, it seems like the score awarded to a single phrase is a reasonably good metric for “how well did I do?” Having that feedback as a training tool is important.
Thoughts?
In part 1 of my discussion of Agrippa’s fencing system, I focused on the positions that are described in the manual. Importantly I extrapolated a set of “degrees-of-freedom” based on the ways in which the various positions differed from each other. In this posting, I hope to demonstrate the importance of those degrees-of-freedom by describing how they show us the movements that are possible within Agrippa’s fencing system.
I created a handy chart that can be found here.
Previously I described 5 degrees-of-freedom, namely guard, stance, sword position, alignment, and front foot. Using these degrees-of-freedom, I showed that it is possible to describe all 14 different positions that are shown in Agrippa’s manual that are concerned with the single sword. However, it is also the case that these degrees-of-freedom describe the necessary motions needed in order to transition between these positions and ultimately, the motions that are possible within the system. Let us therefore consider them each in turn:
Guard:
As noted before, Agrippa describes 4 guards named prima, seconda, terza, and quarta. Within Agrippa’s fencing system, the guards are solely concerned with the rotation of the sword, with prima describing a position where the true edge is pointed upwards, second a position with the true edge rotated towards the outside, and so on. Therefore, the movement described by this degree-of-freedom is primarily concerned with a rotation of the arm. The illustrations suggest that this rotation occurs somewhat independently from the elbow and that it involves the rotation of both the sword and hand, which means that this rotation is primarily achieved by a rotation of the forearm via the radioulnar joint. However the illustrations do suggest that some degree of elbow rotation is present between seconda and terza and likewise that some degree of shoulder rotation is present between prima and seconda.
It is worth noting here that from any given guard, it is possible to transition to at most 2 other guards. For instance, from terza it is only possible to transition to quarta or seconda. A transition from terza to prima would require two transitions, one from terza to seconda and another from seconda to prima. Obviously it is therefore only possible to transition from prima to seconda and from quarta to terza. I have found this referenced in several fencing manuals, however Agrippa does not seem to make note of it, suggesting that he either found it to be self-evident or found little practical use for such distinctions. For our purposes, such a distinction helps us to keep our framework simple and serves to demonstrate that transitions between the positions shown in Agrippa often require more than one motion, and often require movement around more than one degree-of-freedom. As a martial artist, this approach also serves another useful role, and that is to point out that in most cases, our choices of motion are typically constrained to 1-2 options along each degree-of-freedom.
Stance:
Agrippa shows us two different stances, wide and narrow. It should be obvious therefore that we will need to be able to transition between these states either by expanding a narrow guard into a wide one or by narrowing a wide guard into a narrow one. Furthermore, it is clearly possible to perform these transitions in two ways by either moving the front or back foot. This then gives us 4 possibilities. We can widen a narrow stance by stepping forward with the front foot or by stepping backward with the back foot and likewise we can narrow a wide stance by stepping backward with the front foot or by stepping forward with the back foot.
Changes in stance seem to form the basis of some of the footwork seen in Agrippa. For instance, several of the plays seem to begin with a transition from F to C to F, that is, narrow to wide to narrow while moving forward. In such a situation we would expect then that by widening the stance from F to C by moving the front foot forward and then narrowing the stance from C to F by moving the back foot forward, we can achieve something similar to the modern fencing advance. It is however important to be careful in how we interpret and describe footwork, however, as Agrippa does not directly address how to move. And, with the exception of the use of the term “traverse step,” he makes no direct references to footwork as we often modernly conceptualize it.
Sword Position (Extension):
Agrippa seems to show us three separate levels of extension that exist in at least some guards. Transition between these positions, which I have termed extended, neutral, and retracted can be carried out primarily by movement of the shoulder, elbow, and wrist. In the extended position, you will note that the arm is held straight without a bend at the elbow such that the arm and sword both point at the opponent. In the neutral position, the sword is held pointing directly towards the opponent but the arm is held slightly off-line, forming a slight angle. There also seems to be a slight bend in the elbow in the neutral position. In the retracted position the arm is held perpendicular to the opponent while the sword is held pointing towards the opponent. In all cases, the wrist is flexed in order to keep the sword pointed towards the opponent. For example, positions H, B, and E show these three different sword positions in seconda as shown below. 
Movement from neutral to retracted position requires us to move our arm from the shoulder to a position that is perpendicular to our opponent, either out to the side such as in E, downward such as in L, or upwards as in N. Movement from neutral to extended position also requires that we extend our elbow and move our arm from the shoulder, however we instead move our arm towards our opponent as is shown in H, or I. Movement from retracted to extended position can be similarly accomplished, however you will pass through the neutral position in order to accomplish this.
Alignment (Voids):
After several weeks of consideration, I think that it would be most appropriate to describe this degree-of-freedom as the rotation around the vita. Vita translates to body, however conceptually it is a notion that is strongly tied not only to the movements present in the system, but also the aesthetic and scientific knowledge of the renaissance that underlie Agrippa’s fencing system. I previously defined this degree-of-freedom as relating to an off-line step which seems to be present in G, P, and K, but which is also described occasionally while striking the opponent in H and I. These positions are most similar to voids and off-line lunges in other fencing systems, which are situations where rotation of the body, not simply stepping off-line are necessary for success. Furthermore, some experimentation has convinced me that it is relatively easy to use a rotation of the body to drive an off-line step, but that it is relatively difficult to do the reverse. Based on this, therefore, the principle motion that defines this degree-of-freedom is a rotation of the body at the waist that may be accompanied by an off-line step.
This change in understanding may also clarify the discussion of how these positions interact with stance from the previous post. Notably G, P, and K are advised to follow from wide stance, which makes an off-line step difficult (presumably this would widen a wide stance) whereas a simple rotation at the waist can be carried out without widening the (already wide) stance. If we carry this logic forward we might then expect that our response to an attack while in narrow measure is instead to perform a transition to an off-line H or I by extending the sword, rotating the vita, and widening our stance (either forward similar to what we might expect a “lunge” to look like or backwards similar to what we might call a “stop thrust”. But again, these do not seem to be discrete concepts in Agrippa). I intend to explore this further in a future post concerning the defense.
Front Foot:
Transitions between right-foot-forward and left-foot-forward positions is accomplished using what Agrippa calls a traverse step. This action is likely similar to the passing step that is incorporated in other fencing systems and simply involves either stepping forward with the back foot such that it is placed in front or by stepping backwards with the front foot such that it is placed in back. It is important to note that in the left-foot-forwards guards, we still see that weight is held over the front (left) foot, suggesting that it is important to shift body weight between the legs while performing these actions. The precise mechanics will likely be part of a future post, however it is worth noting that it is far easier to move the back foot forward than it is to move the front foot backwards due to the placement of weight on the front foot.
Transitions between Positions:
One thing that quickly becomes apparent is that transitions between the positions shown by Agrippa may involve more than one movement. Even a transition between the basic terza and seconda (C and B) requires us to change both our guard and our stance. We can therefore think of the transitions shown above as primary movements, meaning that they require a single movement and motions such as our transition from C to B shown below as secondary movements, meaning that they require two movements. Likewise, transitions that require 3 movements would be called tertiary movements and so on.
Multi-step transitions add a significant degree of complication, as we must consider not only which actions must be performed but also the order in which they are performed. That being said, it is certainly possible to carry out such actions simultaneously, however such an approach significantly increases the number of movements a fencer must become proficient at performing and greatly increases the number of options a fencer has in any given position (which I would argue is a bad thing). The other possibility is that the motions are carried out sequentially either following some rule (such as arm first, then body, then legs) or by following a path formed from the positions that we know exist in the system. Ultimately this provides us with 3 different ways of performing our transition from C to B, namely to change guard and stance simultaneously, to change guard then stance, or to change stance then guard. You will notice that the last of these can be represented as a transition from C to F to B. You might also be tempted to consider the second option to be the same as a transition from C to H to B, however the framework we have created would suggest that this would also require a change in sword extension (from neutral to extended). We might also simply expect that Agrippa allows for transitions through positions that aren’t explicitly shown, meaning that the reader should be able to understand why certain positions are unsafe and avoid those while still placing themselves in positions that he hasn’t explicitly listed. In which case, a position that is similar to H, but with the sword held with neutral extension may be inferred to exist.
So, which way is correct and what does that tell us about how to interpret the system? Let me be the first to state that I don’t know. From a biomechanics standpoint, moving more than one body part at a time creates weakness during the motion and also creates motion along curved rather than linear paths, which suggests to me that simultaneous movement is problematic. It also greatly complicates things as mentioned above. Other fencing manuals make explicit mention of moving the arm first, however Agrippa provides no such admonition. If we follow their approach, that requires that we end up in a transitional position that may not be shown by Agrippa. If we interpret H to be inclusive of this transitional position, then we must conclude that the sword position degree of freedom either does not exist or should at least be less strictly applied. The final option requires that we move our body before our hand, but allows us to follow a path of motion that clearly fits within what is shown in the manual. Notably we aren’t actually intending to land a blow with this transition (since we are ending with a neutral sword position), so moving our body first may not be a problem. Furthermore, this type of motion may form an important aspect of Agrippa’s system for controlling line (a topic that isn’t explicitly discussed) and/or maintaining opposition. Deeper reading of the manual may help us to answer this question, but if not, we will need to do so empirically.
I’ve recently been thinking about how the majority of people at my practice go to great lengths to ward off any and all of my blade gain attempts, keeping their blade free from entanglement entirely. This morning, a thought occurred to me:
Most period fencing masters put emphasis on finding/gaining the blade when teaching their students, correct? If this is true, I imagine it was so because not everyone could afford to study under a fencing master. This means that, if up against someone who takes offense in the street, there may be a lower likelihood that the offender is going to be schooled in the finer points of rapier combat; meaning, they are going to be more like your generic/noob SCAdians (the kind who pick up a blade for the first time and swing wildly with zero finesse, anyway.)
Perhaps I should give the people of SCA period more credit: I’m sure they were at least a little more proficient with weapons than people in modern times. So, assuming that someone learning under a fencing master is going to have the advantage over someone who is not (but who may have some skill in fighting, in general, due to the times), gaining the blade and making that person their bitch via their skillset sounds solid.
However, we are now in modern times. Fencing manuals are much easier to come by, and some of us not only read said manuals, but are skilled enough to relay the information to others. Period technique, while still not the norm in my experiences, does tend to carry throughout the SCA. So with the fact that this knowledge is so readily available now, people can learn of it and choose whether or not to apply it. Many people are aware of the blade gain, and work to prevent it from happening, to a point that I feel it is practically useless for me to even try. Basing a lot of attacks around the blade gain seems very difficult to carry out when your opponent knows you’re going to do that, and does everything in their power to keep their blade free. So is this technique outdated* in terms of general SCAdian rapier combatants?
* I did not say inefficient. It can work beautifully, and I’ve even made it work beautifully, myself. I’m focusing on the assumption that it gave a specific advantage to the scholar of a master in period times, versus someone who was not learning from a fencing school, and how times are so very different now that everyone has a basic understanding of finding the blade, and can work easily to avoid it.
Giacomo has a funny story he’ll tell. It goes something like this:
Determined to broaden his skills, one evening Giacomo decided to sew a seam on his pants. His wife set him up with a sewing machine, gave some basic instruction, and left him to it. Manfully, Giacomo applied himself to the task. He held his pants in a white-knuckle grip, carefully feeding them through the machine, determined to make a straight line and surprised at the strength required and his sluggish progress.
Presently, after he had sewn perhaps two or three inches along the seam, the bobbin ran out. Giacomo called to his wife, she (somewhat confused) rewound the bobbin, and once more he went to work. White-knuckle grip. Sweat pouring from his brow. Another three or four inches accomplished, and the bobbin again ran out. Giacomo was, by now, quite impressed at the patience and fortitude of seamstresses everywhere.
Again, he calls. This time his wife knows something is up. After rewinding the bobbin, she puts the presser foot down.
HMA Is Like That
Working with Catherine on Wednesday, we focused on addressing one of the bad habits observed at War of the Wings: overfinding to the outside. This is a common enough problem, particularly for lefties.
Six months ago I’d have said something about keeping the angle small, maybe making an attack with an oblique step as Fabris likes to do, or some other trick for dealing with pressure. The thinking behind this would have gone “you’ve learned the technique wrong – your muscle memory is bad. Here, let’s break it down and work it back up.”
Now, I go deeper. “If you feel the need to put so much angulation into the outside find, it must be because a nice, small, controlled movement isn’t working. Why is that?” Which immediately suggests a strength issue. Angulation is a way of multiplying strength; as I mentioned a couple weeks ago, fencers with less strength in the sword must resort to using more angulation to overcome their opponent’s.
Strength in the sword is a function of several factors. Certainly, a fencer’s physical strength and the weight of her sword are relevant. But structure is a much bigger thing. “The sword is supported by the body” is something the masters mention several times, and something I think we don’t pay enough attention to.
So we examined structure, looking at which muscles were engaging and how efficiently. Context is important, so we began with a simple find to the outside, with me lunging through the closed line. Then, beginning inside, I cavared outside before lunging. Then, she counterattacked in response. Plate 7 from Capoferro, actually. Nothing too complex.
The big breakthrough was accomplished with stabilization through the scapula. Forming a counterguard to the outside, with a rotation of the upper trunk, brings the sword into the scapular plane. From there, Catherine could force me to fight the weight of her whole body. (More on this in a post to come.)
It’s difficult to describe the feeling. Her finds went from almost 45 degrees off center to maybe 15, probably less. But despite this reduction in angulation, and the accompanying loss in strength, it felt like I was trying to push through a brick wall.
The Qualia of a Good Strike
It wasn’t consistent, of course. Sometimes I hit anyway … but a couple reps, just two among twenty, were perfect.
Normally when a student performs well in drill, I get a sense of futile pushing against an overwhelming force, like an isometric exercise. This time, there was no brick wall, no resistance – just a sense, not unlike falling, as my tip slid to her guard.
Normally when I’m hit, the energies involved are comparatively slight. My opponent isn’t striking with all his power, and the force vector isn’t quite in line with the blade – it’s off by a few degrees. This time, I felt the entire force of her body behind her sword, perfectly in line. There was absolutely no doubt that, if the sword was sharp, it would have penetrated without resistance. As it was, if I had been a bit closer, and moving a bit faster, I might have been concussed again. In either case, she would have felt nothing, all the energy from the strike perfectly grounded through her form.
Normally, even when we perform the same technique repeatedly, we strike a slightly different part of our opponent. In these strikes, the point came directly, directly, to my right eye. Assuming a right-handed fencer, Capoferro describes, in Plate 7, that the strike should hit the left eye of the opponent. Catherine is left-handed.
Everything – the irresistible force, the sense of effortlessness, the targeting – these hits, two among twenty, had a quality almost unlike any strike I’d ever received before. They were the Platonic Ideal.
All this sensory data and knowledge fell into place instantaneously as I was struck. I was filled immediately with a profound sense of awe, elation, rediscovery, and connection across four centuries.
For once, there were no doubts, no awkwardness, nothing at all to be improved; I knew that what we had created, in those fractions of a second, was perfection, as performed and recorded by the masters so long ago. And it was beautiful.
Lots of Presser Feet
Giacomo’s story, while intended as a humorous anecdote, encapsulates a very important message: ignorance of even one detail can make something seem far more challenging, or a lot less pretty, than it needs to be.
And what’s HMA? An attempt to recreate swordfighting, in an era when nobody swordfights anymore, with only a fragmentary written record, authored by men long dead and culturally removed, for guidance. There will be gaps. Of course there will be gaps.
There’s a near-ubiquitous tendency in HMA to study, work hard, and create an interpretation of a plate or technique or master that … works. Mostly. Sure, it’s a little awkward, and doesn’t always land in sparring. We chalk up the difference to insufficient training, deficits in strength or speed, the inherent chaos of a fight, or a particular opponent’s idiosyncrasies. We make little of it. Then someone comes by with a different interpretation, and we ridicule him. We have it figured out. We know what we’re doing.
Progress stops, because we mistake “good enough” for “good”.
But if we’re lucky, we’ll one day discover the presser foot – that missing detail, often obvious in hindsight, that shatters our previous interpretation, something we thought we knew, and replaces it with something truly effortless and beautiful.
On Wednesday, I addressed a common problem, testing it with a technique I’d done a thousand times, and believed I understood. I wasn’t expecting to be shown that my understanding, kinesthetically speaking, was rudimentary. I got lucky.
I am learning to be open to the idea that there are many presser feet, many such gaps in my knowledge, and that they are unavoidable. We are, after all, still novices in this art, and novices make silly mistakes.
It may seem impossible to pursue unknown unknowns – how can you find something if you don’t know what to look for? But perhaps we can find hints in our imperfections. If something feels strained, or cannot be landed consistently, or requires compensations, maybe this is not a case of “I just need to train it more” or “I just need to be faster” or “I just need to be stronger”. Maybe we’re missing something so fundamental that we didn’t even think to look.
Examining historic fencing from a deep structural perspective seems likely to reveal much – perhaps even more of these sublime moments of perfection. I look forward to it.
Be it known to all to whom these words come:
Their Majesties of Meridies, King Wulfstan and Queen Thorkatla, on the the 10th day of October, 2015, at their Coronation, charged Lord Wistric Oftun with a writ to join the Order of Defense. Therefore, on the evening of the 20th day of November, 2015, at Castle Wars in the Barony of South Downs, Lord Wistric Oftun, Captain of the Meridian Order of the Blade, Provost of the Atlantian Academie d’Espee, apprentice to Dame Rosalind Delamere and in these lands of Meridies fostered to Master Lorenzo Petrucci, shall sit his vigil in contemplation of elevation to the Order of Defense. He welcomes the words and wisdom of all who would offer it as he weighs this choice. Hospitality and various entertainments martial and civil will be available to all who attend.
The next day, November 21st, he shall hold the field of combat against all who would test his skill, in any weapons form they should so desire, beginning at 10 o’ clock in the morning. He shall face all those as time allows before the Wars begin, and will again face any challengers once the Wars are resolved.
Should it at that time still be the wish of Their Majesties and the Vigilant, he shall that day be elevated to the Order of Defense in Their evening court.
PS: For those friends from distant lands unable to attend, there will be an additional celebration at Gulf Wars, details to be determined.
