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Guy frequently keeps this blog updated with thoughts, challenges, interviews and more!

Category: Fun

Yesterday, I gave the impression that I had found an authentic medieval Italian falchion treatise. But actually it was the work of Heidi Zimmerman (the Meyer plates printing genius), an anonymous calligrapher friend, and yours truly. I got the idea long ago, and while talking to Heidi over skype one day, asked her in on the jape. My contribution was to design the system: I chose the guards, the techniques, and so on, and I wrote the “medieval Italian” verses. Which are largely stolen from Fiore and Vadi.  I framed the images I wanted in the salle, with Ville Henell and Ilpo Luhtala, and took photos, which Heidi drew and painted. Then the calligraphy was added, and our treatise was made real. I also roped some friends in to boost the signal; not everyone who appeared to believe did so! Thanks Neal, Mike, and all the usual suspects.

But lest you think I am a lying toad, not so! Every word of the revelation yesterday was true. Let me explain, by adding in the missing information.

“Previously unknown Falchion treatise” is true. It is a treatise. About the falchion. Unknown to almost everyone. And I discovered it in my shared Dropbox folder.

As you may be aware, I have spent most of this year in Italy, [TRUE] and much of that time looking for insight into the systems I teach. [TRUE up to a point] While I was there, I found a treatise [in my dropbox folder]; probably in the Fiore/Vadi tradition. [Well, it is!] It features two women, exemplifying the art of arms as applied to the falchion (or messer, or storta). The original is in private hands: fortunately, the owner is a reader of my books, so agreed to let me post them. [Yes, Heidi does read my books.]

Every word of what followed was true. But my glee was caused by mischief-making, not by finding an original treatise…

But seriously, folks; if we ever do find a medieval Italian falchion treatise, I think it will look like this. These actions can all be found in, for instance, Lecküchner's treatise, and in Italian sources for the longsword. The structure is very Fiorean, and follows the logic of his sword in one hand plays. The number of guards, numbers of techniques, and so on, are all very much in the model Fiore set.

I should also point out that we were very careful to make it just “wrong” enough that it could not be passed off as a forgery. My overriding brief to Heidi was that if the original is found in a hundred years, nobody in the medievalist world could reasonably mistake it for an authentic medieval document. Well done all of you that spotted the many “errors”. Most obviously, that great big falchion at the end is indeed a picture of Cosimo de' Medici‘s falchion from the Wallace Collection. From about a century after this is supposed to have been written. That was meant as a little clue….

Anyway, I hope you all had fun with this (though it's obvious from some of the internet chatter that some folk were really annoyed, which I find baffling). I have been thinking a lot about stortas (Italian falchions), and how odd it is that we have lots of surviving originals, and lots of German sources for the equivalent messer, but nothing in Italian. So this is an exercise in predictive archeology: if such a treatise ever does come to light, I think it would look like this. I'm planning to write up a proper analysis of the “system”, with translations of the verses, and why I think it would look like this, but I'm in the process of moving back to Finland right now, so it will have to wait.

I raise a glass to tomfoolery, and to Heidi! For more of her art, go see Draupnir Press.

UPDATE: this was posted on April 1st, and was, as some readers spotted, a giant jape. For more details, see here.

Oh. My. God.

As you may be aware, I have spent most of this year in Italy, and much of that time looking for insight into the systems I teach. While I was there, I found a treatise; probably in the Fiore/Vadi tradition. It features two women, exemplifying the art of arms as applied to the falchion (or messer, or storta). The original is in private hands: fortunately, the owner is a reader of my books, so agreed to let me post them.

I could not be more excited. These are relatively low-resolution files, so some detail is lost (but I will be getting the max-res ones soon, and will share, of course). It starts with six guards, Porta di ferro, Posta alta, Posta di Finestra, Dente di Chingiaro, Posta Frontale, and Posta di Vera Croce:

Judith f3vJudith f4r

 

 

 

The text goes:

Porta di ferro

Son la porta di ferro forte
Aspeto per dare al nemico morte.

Posta Alta

Son la posta soprana e altera
Per far difesa aciascuna manera

Posta di finestra

Questa sie posta di finestra
Che de malicie sempre la e presta.

Dente di chingiaro

Con mortal posta de denti cinghiare
Chi cerca briga assa glinposso dare.

Posta frontale

Son posta frontal tanto sicura
De taglii epunte mainon faro cura.

Posta di vera croce

La croce vera contra ti voglio fare
In mi le toi punte non poii entrare

Then we have four plays, beginning with a parry from the left side.

Judith f4vJudith f5r

 

The text with them goes:

[1st play]

De la sinestra facio mia deffesa

Fatta la coverta subito faro loffesa.

[2nd play]

Traro il colpo come il maestro ha detto,

Fendente ala testa o punta in petto.

[3rd play]

Questo contrario che io te facio

Entrarti nel mezana ligadura del bracio

[4th play]

Con questa partita ti butto al terra

Non mai tu po farai la guerra.

Then we have a crossing from the right, followed by six plays (for seven total on that side), and a definition of the weapon:

 

 

Judith f5vJudith f6r

Judith f6vJudith f7r

 

The text reads:

[5th play]

Le spade della destra son incrossade

Se la via e aperta, sempre intrare.

[6th]

Levo la mano con la storta in erta

Traro nella faccia cum la coverta.

[7th]

Fiero con la spada dalaltra parte

Questa lo faccio con tutta mi arte.

[8th]

Col pomo martelando alsuo mustaccio

Guardando bene che tu non piglii impaccio

[9th ]

Piglo sua spada in mezo le mantenir

Cum taglo e punta io lo posso ferir.

[10th]

Con la punta erta e la mano basso

Scambio la punta, in un solo passo.

[11th]

Per la volta fata amia spada presta

Con quella di feriri non faro resta.

 

La Mesura della Storta [this paragraph is not in verse.]

La mesura della storta vol esere dal mano fin ala terra cum filo dritto e punta e fa chel taglio falso quatro dita inpunta.

In overall structure, the book follows the usual pattern: guards, followed by technical actions. The last “play” is actually a definition of the weapon, as we see in Fiore and Vadi’s armoured sword section, and in Vadi’s dagger section.

The content will be pretty familiar to medievalists; all of these techniques can be found in the longsword sections of Fiore; and many of the verses are very like ones we find in these other treatises.

Why women, though? And why Judith?

That question, at least, is easily answered. In medieval art, and indeed much later, the biblical character Judith was a favourite; as it allowed the artist to depict nekkid women with swords. Or dressed women with swords.

You can get the general idea here, in this version of the story by Domenico di Pace Beccafumi

judith-1510-c-domenico-di-pace-beccafumi

The story is told in the biblical (Apocryphal in some traditions) Book of Judith. In short, Judith’s tribe was being attacked by the Assyrian army lead by Holofernes; the night before the battle, she seduced her way into his tent (hence the nekkid), hacked off his head, and took it back to her leaders in a basket (I’m pretty sure that’s where Lois McMaster Bujold got that fabulous scene in Cordelia’s Honor).

My favourite version of the theme in paint is this by Botticelli, which you can find in the Uffizi, along with it's partner image, the discovery of Holofernes:

return_of_judith

Now, before everyone gets TOO excited, you should be aware that this has not been authenticated, and there is much work to be done examining the art and the text for possible correlations with other manuscripts. But oh my, I am falling off my chair in glee.

Please share this with everyone: our martial heritage should not be kept in the dark, but in the great tradition of Wiktenauer, let's get this stuff out there to everyone who might be interested.

OR DON'T: I posted this reveal on April 2nd, but on the principle that it's unlikely that everyone will spot it, I've copied and pasted it here:

April Foooooool!!

Yesterday, I gave the impression that I had found an authentic medieval Italian falchion treatise. But actually it was the work of Heidi Zimmerman (the Meyer plates printing genius), an anonymous calligrapher friend, and yours truly. I got the idea long ago, and while talking to Heidi over skype one day, asked her in on the jape. My contribution was to design the system: I chose the guards, the techniques, and so on, and I wrote the “medieval Italian” verses. Which are largely stolen from Fiore and Vadi.  I framed the images I wanted in the salle, with Ville Henell and Ilpo Luhtala, and took photos, which Heidi drew and painted. Then the calligraphy was added, and our treatise was made real. I also roped some friends in to boost the signal; not everyone who appeared to believe did so! Thanks Neal, Mike, and all the usual suspects.

But lest you think I am a lying toad, not so! Every word of the revelation yesterday was true. Let me explain, by adding in the missing information.

“Previously unknown Falchion treatise” is true. It is a treatise. About the falchion. Unknown to almost everyone. And I discovered it in my shared Dropbox folder.

As you may be aware, I have spent most of this year in Italy, [TRUE] and much of that time looking for insight into the systems I teach. [TRUE up to a point] While I was there, I found a treatise [in my dropbox folder]; probably in the Fiore/Vadi tradition. [Well, it is!] It features two women, exemplifying the art of arms as applied to the falchion (or messer, or storta). The original is in private hands: fortunately, the owner is a reader of my books, so agreed to let me post them. [Yes, Heidi does read my books.]

Every word of what followed was true. But my glee was caused by mischief-making, not by finding an original treatise…

But seriously, folks; if we ever do find a medieval Italian falchion treatise, I think it will look like this. These actions can all be found in, for instance, Lecküchner's treatise, and in Italian sources for the longsword. The structure is very Fiorean, and follows the logic of his sword in one hand plays. The number of guards, numbers of techniques, and so on, are all very much in the model Fiore set.

I should also point out that we were very careful to make it just “wrong” enough that it could not be passed off as a forgery. My overriding brief to Heidi was that if the original is found in a hundred years, nobody in the medievalist world could reasonably mistake it for an authentic medieval document. Well done all of you that spotted the many “errors”. Most obviously, that great big falchion at the end is indeed a picture of Cosimo de' Medici‘s falchion from the Wallace Collection. From about a century after this is supposed to have been written. That was meant as a little clue….

Anyway, I hope you all had fun with this (though it's obvious from some of the internet chatter that some folk were really annoyed, which I find baffling). I have been thinking a lot about stortas (Italian falchions), and how odd it is that we have lots of surviving originals, and lots of German sources for the equivalent messer, but nothing in Italian. So this is an exercise in predictive archeology: if such a treatise ever does come to light, I think it would look like this. I'm planning to write up a proper analysis of the “system”, with translations of the verses, and why I think it would look like this, but I'm in the process of moving back to Finland right now, so it will have to wait.

I raise a glass to tomfoolery, and to Heidi! For more of her art, go see Draupnir Press.

 

Fifteen years ago today, my employer Patrick Baxter laid me off from my job as a cabinet maker. Exactly one year later, I opened the School of European Swordsmanship in Helsinki. We began with a free demo class, which was hopelessly over-attended; so much so that the demo class turned into a lecture instead. The school has never looked back. Much has changed over the years, but not the value of a good kick in the crotch: allow me a moment of nostalgia, posting this from the photoshoot for The Swordsman's Companion:

Zoe Chandler kicks Miika in the nuts: for The Swordsman's Companion.
Zoe Chandler kicks Miika in the nuts: for The Swordsman's Companion.

As I have written before, I didn't do this by myself. Right now, I'm in Italy, as you probably know, and have not swung a sword for months (except at the lovely Armizare 2015). Yet, on at least three continents, and without any direct help from me, students who consider themselves a part of the School of European Swordsmanship have been training, fencing and teaching the Art of Arms. In this, I see myself as a catalyst, rather than a source; because of the work I do, the barriers to entry to an authentic training life are significantly reduced, allowing many more people to enter the Art. But I don't, can't, do it for them; I just help them do it a bit better. So while I have been immersed in Italy, the School has carried on just fine without me. I even get emails from students I've never met, telling me that my books or videos have helped them accomplish something. This is profoundly satisfying, as I'm sure you can imagine.

Here's an example, from Mexico:

The joint winners. Well done!
The joint winners. Well done!

Another victory for the Italian tradition Mr Windsor, I tied for first place on steel longsword and placed 2nd on rapier at our national HEMA tournament. It was my first steel longsword tournament and we used a variation of this ruleset (http://www.hroarr.com/concerning-the-rules-of-tournaments/) where we didnt count “points”, instead we tracked wounds over a round robin with the top fighters of my country, most of them with international tournament experience, and I tied on first place with Arturo Medina (former champion of our anual Albion steel tournament and 2nd place at combatcon 2012) with the least wounds over the tournament.

All of this thanks to your books, The Duellist's Companion, and your series of Italian longsword, I cant wait for the next book to publish because as I said before, I have no other teacher than your books and videos, and the way you transmit the principles of Italian fencing has allowed me to rank this high.

All my gratitude to you, from México.

José Luis Zamarripa

 

I am leaving for America and Canada this week; teaching at Lonin this weekend, and VISS the weekend after; back in the saddle again! And then home to Helsinki, and back to my salle, at Easter. I am looking forward to seeing you all again; it feels very odd to be away from home on this particular date.

I'd like to take this moment to thank every teacher, every student, and every colleague, who has supported this work; whether you started yesterday, have run a branch for years, or were teaching me something useful 30 years ago, thank you. It's been wonderful.

Fourteen is a significant number in all traditional arts; seven years of apprenticeship, seven years a journeyman. Now, I have to create a masterpiece. What, I ask, would you have me do next?

Without doubt the best rapier duel in cinematic history is the one between Inigo Montoya and the Man in Black at the top of the Cliffs of Insanity, in The Princess Bride (1987). To celebrate breaking 10,000€ on my recent crowdfunding campaign, I told my backers I would put up a video of how the duel might have gone if the fight directors, cinema legends Peter Diamond and Bob Anderson, had actually followed the dialogue, and been versed in historical swordsmanship. (Please note, this is a thank-you, not a stretch goal. An important distinction in crowd-funding matters.)

The dialogue is, I think, the earliest reference to historical fencing masters in film. Here it is:

Inigo: “you are using Bonetti's defence against me, huh?”

MIB: “I thought it fitting considering the rocky terrain.”

Inigo: “Naturally, you must expect me to attack with Capoferro!”

MIB: “Naturally. But I find that Thibault cancels out Capoferro.”

Inigo: “Unless your enemy has studied his Agrippa!” [does great big somersault] “Which I have!”

Thus inspiring a legion of potential historical fencers to look up Bonetti, Capoferro, Thibault and Agrippa. Huzzah!

However, the actual choreography turns out on further study to bear no resemblance whatsoever to the fencing methods of the historical masters in question. This should come as no surprise, given that the goals of stage and screen combat are that no-one should die, and everyone should see what is happening: and the goals of real combat are to kill the enemy, which is best accomplished if no-one can see what’s going on. There are skills common to both, of course, such as control of measure and weapons handling, but the core intent could not be more different.

This begs the question: how does Thibault cancel out Capoferro?

As students of The Book (whichever source we are trying to recreate), it might be a good idea to also check the original source. The Princess Bride, first published in 1973, was a book for 14 years before it was a film.

Written by William Goldman, it is, as one might expect, even better than the movie. 

So, from the 1998 edition (pp 130-135) here are the actual references:

“They touched swords, and the man in black immediately began the Agrippa defence, which Inigo felt was sound, considering the rocky terrain, for the Agrippa kept the feet stationary at first, and made the chances of slipping minimal. Naturally, he countered with Capo Ferro, which surprised the man in black, but he defended well, quickly shifting out of Agrippa and taking the attack himself, using the principles of Thibault.

Inigo had to smile. No one had taken the attack against him in so long, and it was thrilling! He let the man in black advance, let him build up courage, retreating gracefully between some trees, letting his Bonetti defence keep him safe from harm.”

Quite different, I’m sure you’ll agree. But this was 40 years ago, long before the resurgence of historical swordsmanship in the 90s: where was Goldman getting his information? The next reference is also interesting:

“Inigo … was not entirely familiar with the style of the attack; it was mostly McBone, but there were snatches of Capo Ferro thrown in…”

I assume McBone is McBane (though why the change when the other masters are spelled normally: a little joke, perhaps?); has Goldman read Aylward’s The English Master of Arms? I would love to buy him a drink and ask him.

But anyhoo, and without further ado, here is the video:

And for those of you interested in how rapier fencing was really done: you might enjoy my book, The Duellist's Companion.

And if you're interested in recreating historical swordsmanship from historical sources, you might find my course useful. See you there!

Feel free to share this with your swashbuckling friends!

 

A mysterious parcel was waiting for me when I arrived at my School's Christmas Party (and my 40th birthday party) on Saturday, November 23. It had been shipped from Edinburgh and was addressed to me, but I was not expecting a delivery that day. Besides, shipping companies do not normally deliver on a Saturday in Finland. The sender was a group called “The Honourable Heirs of Windsor”. I had never heard of them, and so expected somebody at the party to know something about it. But nobody did.

Sword of Windsor package My wife encouraged me to open it anyway. So out with a screwdriver, and under layers of cardboard we found the documentation that came with the shipment. It included a letter addressed to me from The Honourable Heirs of Windsor,

Sword of Windsor Letter

(which bizarrely has post-nominals but no names), a description of the provenance of something called “the Sword of Windsor”, apparently lost at the battle of Towton in 1461,

 

Sword of Windsor provenance 1Sword of Windsor provenance 2

and a metallurgical analysis of this sword by David Edge of the Wallace Collection.Sword of Windsor MetallurgySword of Windsor Metallurgy2

By this time, a small crowd had formed and we were all itching to see what was under the wrappings. So I unpeeled them, and there before my very eyes, was the Sword of Windsor. As the provenance suggested, it was in excavation condition (read: rusted to bits).

the Sword of Windsor The frame that it was attached to was clearly about 60 years old, and has various catalogue numbers and stickers attached to it.

Sword of Windsor back

So, some mysterious secret society had decided to send me an ancient sword. But didn’t require a signature on receipt? Very odd.

Sword of Windsor hiltThere were one or two clear problems with the sword as it stood. Firstly, the bone handle could not have survived 500 years in the ground. Secondly, the silver wire turk's head knot does not belong on a mediaeval sword. Thirdly, what is the likelihood of there being a surviving silver Windsor family crest on the pommel of a 15th century sword?

PommelShield Pommel side Pommel side 2

Given that it was shipped from Edinburgh, and that the “Honourable Heirs of Windsor Society” was “until 1994 the Honourable Sons of Windsor society” (I founded the Dawn Duellists Society in 1994), the most likely candidate were my friends in Edinburgh. But none of them have the skills to fake this. Also, the phone number on the shipment sheet was out by one digit. Exactly the same typo that appeared on a batch of business cards I had printed up about six years ago. So whoever sent this apparently had my old business card. All my friends have my number. Also, there are no names on the documents. But the seal has the Windsor crest on it, just like the sword.

I came to the conclusion that it was either real and to be taken at face value, or the most elaborate hoax in the history of antiques forgery. Fake the sword, yes, but the frame? The only people I know who could have faked it, are Lasse Mattila, and JT Pälikkö, old and dear friends. Lasse restores and conserves arms and armour for museums. JT is the best sword smith in the world (though he’d deny it). Both of these guys were at the party, and knew nothing about the sword.

So, something out of a Dan Brown book was happening live at my party. I was utterly baffled. It could not be true, yet this thing of beauty was right there. So I decided to email David Edge, to see what he had to say about the provenance. Before he could reply, I got this in my email:

Surprise! Lasse and JT had faked the whole thing, with help from David, and my wife, and my parents. That included making the seal stamp with the crest, for the wax seal on the letter, faking the pommel and crossguard, putting together the blade out of a bit of support structure from a statue that Lasse conserved about 12 years ago, making the frame and ageing it, faking the documents (that zeppelin strike in 1915 was very suspicious!), and even faking the box it all came in. The 1994 and the phone number errors were coincidences (they put the wrong number there to explain why the delivery was unannounced, but didn't know about the business cards). The whole thing never left Finland, all the shipping stuff was fake. They had thought I'd see through the whole thing in 10 seconds, and so had no plan for keeping the jape going. But what a jape!

And behind that pommel?

Back of pommel

Bastards. Sneaky, conniving, magnificent, bastards! With friends like these…

I am in awe.

 

This blog has now been up for one whole year. Huzzah! In that time I have published 58 posts, in 11 categories. By far the most-viewed post, with nearly double the hits of the next most viewed, has been “Plastic swords are for children”, which is interesting as the majority of hits have been sent this way by people who clearly disagree with my view. Also popular has been the rant regarding the sport fencing coaches in the USA thinking that they can certify historical swordsmanship instructors.  Of the more pedagogical posts, I Am Slow, Class Instruction, and Size Matters are well ahead of the rest.  I am surprised to find the beginners’ course series way down at the bottom of the list.

Anyway, to celebrate one year in, here is my translation of Vadi’s De Arte Gladiatoria Dimicandi laid out on the original images (by Kliment Yanev, thanks!), yours for free under a Collective Commons Attribution licence. Post it, play with it, put it to work. And if you like, feel free to buy the book, Veni Vadi Vici, which includes the transcription and my commentary.

Thanks for reading!

 

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