I flew to Belgrade last week to attend the Sword and Balkan event. I arrived on Thursday evening and spent Friday exploring downtown Belgrade to get a sense of Serbian culture. I’ll write that up properly next, but in the meantime: if you’re visiting Serbia, do not skip the National Museum on Republic Square…
The event began on Saturday morning, and right from the start it felt different. We were all invited to break off a piece of bread, dip it in salt, and eat it (I just had the salt, being allergic to wheat). This symbolic act made us part of the family—and that sense of familial warmth and camaraderie set the tone for the whole weekend. Literally everyone I interacted with was relaxed, friendly, and there to enjoy some good swordy fun. It was especially nice to catch up with Francesco Lodà after more than 20 years!
The event’s principal organiser, Željko Glumac, was a game designer before devoting himself fully to swords—and I’ve never encountered a more gamified (in the best possible way) fencing event. There was a creative and intricate token system: participants earned tokens through various activities and could use them to bid for spots in the final tournament, choosing weapons like rapier, smallsword, and so on. You could win tokens from fellow fencers in challenges—unless, when revealing your secret team card (Fiore, Hutton, etc.), it turned out you were on the same team! When challenging instructors, they would award you 1–3 tokens based on the quality of your fencing (regardless of the score).
No wonder the reception table looked like this:
That’s Željko on the left.
I knew Željko is a Capoferro man, but I also knew he’d be swamped with organisational duties, so I kidnapped him early Saturday for a quick fencing match. It was a joy. Sometimes fencing feels like an argument between people who don’t speak the same language—but this was a vigorous and friendly conversation between two native speakers of the same dialect.
My class that morning was Skill Development with the Longsword. About 26 students attended, with a wide range of experience levels. They were all a pleasure to teach, and I think everyone got something useful from it.
I’d twisted my right knee on Wednesday morning, so I was being careful—short lunges, no unnecessary pressure—but still managed to get in two bouts after lunch. First, with Thomas Tassie on smallsword (a quick fencer with a lovely circular parry in quarte), and then with Branislav Petrović, another Capoferro fencer. He hit me with Capoferro’s scanso della vita—a rare thing to see in freeplay! But a little later I got him back with the same technique, which may have been my personal fencing highlight of the weekend.
By evening I was fairly worn out, but I really enjoyed chatting with Viktor, Veronika, and Elay. Fortunately, V and V are early-to-bed types like me, so they gave me a lift back to the hotel and we turned in around 11:15. But I must say—those Serbs understand carnivory at a high level.
On Sunday morning, I did a thorough physio session to keep the knee and neck issues at bay, and then fenced with Karl Rapp from Vienna. We hit each other quite a bit—but he managed to catch me twice with the same move: a thrust to the flank after covering my blade with his left hand. Son of a bitch! (In the best possible way.) It was a delightful bout, swiftly followed by another with Viktor Kachovski—good thing we both got to bed at a decent hour!
That day I taught a smaller class, Skill Development with the Rapier, which meant we could go deeper into the subject. Again, the group included both beginners and veterans with over a decade of experience, and again, everyone was a joy to teach. Special thanks to Pavle Ilijašević (in the red and black poofy pants) for demonstrating with me—with sharps!
After lunch (and a bit of tech wrestling with the projector), I gave an hour-long lecture on syllabus design. I think it went well—when I formally ended the session, the room stayed for another 45-minute Q&A, mostly on pedagogy. I sometimes ask the audience to vote on the best question of the session. This time, Daniel won the prize (a Swordschool patch) for getting me going on teaching mixed-level classes.
You may have noticed the total lack of photos or videos of me fencing. That’s because I was having too much fun to remember I even own a phone.
The event wrapped up with the challenge tournament. I was absolutely knackered by this point, but it was clearly enormous fun for everyone involved—team members cheering each other on and nobody taking it too seriously.
All in all, a thoroughly delightful event. Željko and his team got the tone exactly right—and everything else flowed from there.
It’s a great week for Vadi fans. My comprehensive new course “The Philippo Vadi Longsword Course” is now live on both Teachable and Swordpeople, and my friend Michael Chidester has also just launched his new crowdfunding campaign for a very high-end and beautiful facsimile of Vadi’s treatise, De Arte Gladiatoria Dimicandi.
This was a coincidence, and not ideal from a marketing perspective, but it does open up possibilities for co-operations and collaborations. For instance: Michael is offering a $25 discount (that’s over 10% off) on his facsimile for anyone who buys my course. We’re working out the technical details, and I’ll put the discount code in the course materials as soon as I have it.
Speaking of discounts- you can get 40% off the price of the course, in one payment or spread over ten equal payments, while the launch period lasts.
If that discount code link isn’t working, go to courses.swordschool.com and use the code VADITASTICLAUNCH at checkout.
So what is the Vadi Longsword course, and what does it cover?
This isn't just another sword course. I've meticulously reconstructed Vadi's complete system from his treatise “De Arte Gladiatoria Dimicandi,” presenting it in a logical progression that takes you from complete beginner to confident practitioner.
Every martial art is a way of moving and a set of tactical preferences. In this course I have included a lot of movement drills, and a large range of technical and tactical drills: everything you need to become proficient in Vadi’s art. (Except the equipment (swords, masks, etc.) and a training partner (because that would be illegal). But I do expect you to share your course with at least one training partner.)
You will get over 75 video clips, organised into 8 sections:
Introduction & Safety
Footwork and Sword Handling – Warm-ups, footwork, grips, and mechanics
The Blows of the Sword– Vadi’s blows, including drills based on the guards
The 12 Guards – Every position explained and drilled
Basic Training and Setting up the Plays – Solo and pair training to build a solid foundation
The 25 Plays of the Longsword – All 25 plays from De Arte Gladiatoria Dimicandi, step-by-step
Plays from Chapters 11 and 15 – Extra drills from Vadi's theory of fencing
Skill Development – Fencing games, timing, and troubleshooting
As you can see, we cover not only all of Vadi’s longsword plays, but also basic sword training, how to get into the plays tactically, and how to become skillful in their application.
Curious? Here’s a sample video, on one of my favourite Vadi-style sword exercises:
For an academic, it is the best feeling in the world when the ground you have built a mansion on starts to tremble. (Less so for an architect, I’d imagine.) I had that experience on my recent trip to the Panoplia Iberica where I finally met Dario Magnani in person. He runs the THOKK gloves enterprise, and is a keen Fiore scholar. We talked for literally hours about the most minute details of our interpretations, starting with his take on the famous “three turns of the sword”. It was so much fun I got him onto my podcast to revisit the topic, which you can hear here:
I’ll go through the passage first, then describe my current interpretation of it, then his take on the same text, and then sum up. We’re talking about folio 22 recto from the Getty manuscript. I’ll quote the transcription, translation, and interpretation from pages 116-117 of From Medieval Manuscript to Modern Practice: The Longsword Techniques of Fiore dei Liberi.
Noy semo doi guardie, una si fatta che l’altra, e una e contraria de l’altra. E zaschuna altra guardia in l’arte una simile de l’altra sie contrario, salvo le guardie che stano in punta, zoe, posta lunga e breve e meza porta di ferro che punta per punta la piu lunga fa offesa inanci. E zoe che po far una po far l’altra. E zaschuna guardia po fare volta stabile e meza volta. Volta stabile sie che stando fermo po zugar denanci e di dredo de una parte. Meza volta si e quando uno fa un passo o inanzi o indredo, e chossi po zugare de l’altra parte de inanzi e di dredo. Tutta volta sie quando uno va intorno uno pe cum l’altro pe, l’uno staga fermo e l’altro lo circundi. E perzo digo che la spada si ha tre movimenti, zoe volta stabile, meza volta, e tutta volta. E queste guardie sono chiamate l’una e l’altra posta di donna. Anchora sono iv cose in l’arte, zoe passare, tornare, acressere, e discressere.
We are two guards, one made like the other, and one is counter to the other. And [with] every other guard in the art one like the other is the counter, except for the guards that stand with the point [in the centre], thus, long guard and short, and middle iron door, that thrust against thrust the longer will strike first. And thus what one can do the other can do. And every guard can do the stable turn and the half turn. The stable turn is when, standing still, you can play in front and behind on one side. The half turn is when one makes a pass forwards or backwards, and thus can play on the other side, in front and behind. The whole turn is when one goes around one foot with the other foot, the one staying still and the other going around. And so I say that the sword has three movements, thus stable turn, half turn, and full turn. And these guards are called, one and the other, the woman’s guard. Also there are four things in the art, thus: pass, return, advance, and retreat.
What do Fiore's words mean?
Let me unpack this:
1. The two guards shown are both posta di donna. One is shown forward weighted, the other back weighted. I interpret the difference between them to be a volta stabile (more on that later).
2. Any two guards that are alike can counter each other.
3. Except for guards that have the point in the centre line (longa, breve, and mezana porta di ferro; more on those in the next section). This is because the longer sword will strike first. Here I’m translating punta as point (stano in punta, stand with the point), and thrust (punta per punta, thrust against thrust). The meaning is obvious whichever way you translate it though: don’t stand with your point in line against someone else who has their point in line unless you have the longer sword.
4. Any similar guards can do what the guards they are like can do.
5. Every guard can do the volta stabile and the meza volta. (I use the Italian terms for technical actions, guards, etc. where possible. Refer to the glossary [link] if you need it.)
6. The volta stabile: I interpret stando fermo, standing still, to mean without stepping, or moving a foot. As I do the volta stabile, the balls of my feet stay on the same spot on the ground. It makes no sense for a turning action to involve no movement at all, so standing still cannot mean literally ‘not moving’.
7. The meza volta: this is a passing action, forwards or backwards. I interpret that to include a turn of the hips and body, so you go from one side to the other.
8. The tutta volta: here again we have a ‘fixed’ foot, that, unless your legs are made of swivel-joints (top tip: they’re not), must at least turn around itself for the action to occur. This supports my reading of stando fermo above. Simply, this is whenever you pivot on one foot by turning the other one around it. There is a video of me doing these three movements linked to further on in this chapter.
9. The sword also has three movements: stable turn, half turn, and full turn. Unfortunately there is no further discussion of this, and these terms simply aren’t used in the rest of the book. Fiore will tell us to ‘turn the sword’, for instance in the play of the punta falsa, on f27v, but never with the qualifiers stable half or full. So I simply do not use these terms to apply to sword actions. Other instructors and interpreters do, but you should be aware that there is no evidence supporting any one interpretation of these turns over another.
10. In case you missed it the first time: both these guards are posta di donna. Both of them. Got that?
11. There are four things in the art: pass, return, advance and retreat. See the video: three turns, four steps: https://guywindsor.net/lgg01
Okay, so that’s the current state of affairs, and it accords with what most Fiore scholars I know think of the three turns.
Dario’s reading is different though. In essence, he thinks that the volte Fiore is describing here are specifically the turns of the sword. Or better, the movements of the sword.
In other words: a volta stabile is what you can do moving the sword forwards and backwards while standing still. For example, thrust from breve to longa without stepping at all.
A meza volta is what you do with the sword when passing forwards or backwards, and the sword goes from one side of the body to the other. This could be a blow, or just changing guard.
A tuta volta is what you do with the sword while turning one foot around the other.
This makes sense for the following reasons:
1. Why would footwork come between the sword in one hand and the sword in two hands? Surely if this was meant to be a purely footwork description, it would be earlier in the manuscript.
2. The volta stabile as we do it as a footwork action cannot reasonably be described as ‘standing still’. It took some wrangling to get it to apparently mean that (as you can see in points 6 and 8 above).
3. The line “And so I say that the sword also has three movements, thus stable turn, half turn, and full turn” can be read as a summary of the preceding sentences, not an application of footwork actions to the sword. The “also” there doesn’t come from “anchora”, it’s more pleonastic: it comes from E perzo digo che la spada si ha tre movimenti, zoe volta stabile, meza volta, e tutta volta. That bit “la spada si ha” literally means “the sword it has”. There’s really no “also” in that sentence, thought I’m not alone in inserting one: Leoni translates it as “the sword also has” (Leoni and Mele, Flowers of Battle vol. 1 page 252). Drop the questionable “also”, and the sentence reads as a summarising of the preceding three turns as turns of the sword.
4. Volta has many meanings and shades of meaning. You can find literally dozens of meanings for it on pages 1000-1002 of Battaglia’s dictionary, online here: https://www.gdli.it/sala-lettura/vol-xxi/21 Dario’s contention is that these actions don’t have to be read as specifically turning actions (which allows for a simple thrust from breve to longa to be a ‘volta’). To be honest, that’s the hardest part of this for me- I haven’t found a solid linguistic reference to justify a non-circular interpretation of the word, though the expression “dai volta”, lit. ‘give turn’, means “get a move on”.
It is very convenient to translate words that may have many meanings into simple, specific, and concrete technical actions. The volta stabile then gets to be one simple thing, easy to explain and teach, rather than a class of things (what you do with the sword while standing still). But this can be a false sanctuary. Likewise with the final sentence of this troublesome passage: “Anchora sono iv cose in l’arte, zoe passare, tornare, acressere, e discressere. Also there are four things in the art, thus: pass, return, advance, and retreat.”
These have long been interpreted by me and just about everyone else as passing forwards, passing backwards, stepping forwards, stepping backwards.
We know from the definition of the meza volta that ‘passare’ means to pass forwards or backwards. What is ‘tornare’ then? It means return, and when we see it in action, such as in the defence of the dagger against the sword thrust on f19r, “Lo pe dritto cum rebatter in dredo lu faro tornare”, it isn’t a pass at all: it’s the withdrawal of the front foot (see From Medieval Manuscript to Modern Practice pages 44-47 for the transcription, translation, and video).
Likewise the discrescere that we find on f26r when we slip the leg against a sword cut; it’s not a step backwards; your back foot doesn’t move.
So our neat classification of footwork actions starts to fail.
So is this passage, the beginning of the sword in two hands section, all about how the sword moves? That would not be a stretch. And for sure the volta stabile is not a great big movement of the body. I’ve started calling that movement (which is still a fundamental part of the art) a “volta stabile of the body”.
I’m not sure where I stand on all this yet. I’m convinced of one thing though: it’s past time to return to the assumptions that I have based my interpretations on and work through them with ever-closer attention to the text.
And if you listen to the podcast episode, you'll hear the moment when I'm convinced that the “also” has to go!
In July I flew to Kansas to shoot video with Jessica Finley. I originally intended to just get the material for my medieval Italian wrestling course, but when I saw this amazing mural on Jessica's salle wall, I was hit by a really good idea- why not use this memory-tree of Liechtenauer's 12 hauptstucke (“chief pieces of the art”) as a course plan?
Jessica is one of my oldest sword friends, and a highly respected colleague. We first met at a Western Martial Arts workshop event in about 2007. She was my first choice for a podcast guest (and has been back on the show twice since then). She started out as Christian Tobler’s student, and used the training he gave her to develop her own areas of expertise, notably in medieval German wrestling. She wrote the book Medieval Wrestling, published in 2014, which was one good reason why I shot my own medieval wrestling course with her. And she has her own way of organising and interpreting Liechtenauer’s longsword material, based on Liechtenauer’s own categorisation of the hauptstucke.
We have quite different teaching styles, as you can see in this video where she teaches the guard Ochs:
I think it’s important to expose your students to other instructors, and this is no less true in online courses as it is in person. When I ran my school in Helsinki, we averaged 3-4 visiting instructors per year.
But there is a very small overlap between the quite large group of instructors whom I would deem worthy to teach my students, and the much smaller group who have the skills to produce a course like Medieval German Longsword: the Hauptstucke of Johannes Liechtenauer. To be clear- Jessica herself doesn’t have the technical background to produce a course either (though she is solidly in the first group, and indeed taught a seminar for my students in Helsinki in 2015). But I do, and we had the time, the space, and the very clearly organised system that you need for producing a course, when I was over in Kansas in July this year.
My part in this course includes directing, producing, editing, and providing the Fiore perspective in each section, so the course itself is very much a collaboration. But every bit of Liechtenauer interpretation is 100% Jessica.
Here’s the next video in the sequence: Thrusting from Ochs and Pflug:
The course is available here
See you on the course!
This post is intended to be useful to the attendees at the recent seminar I taught with Chris Vanslambrouck in Madison, Wisconsin. It may also be of interest to folk who couldn't make it.
First up, huge thanks to Heidi Zimmerman who organised the seminar. It literally couldn’t have happened without her. And thanks also to Chris Vanslambrouck, who co-taught the seminar, with related plays from Meyer. Given that there was also a lot of Meyer technique being taught that weekend, it’s a miracle we covered so much ground, so hats off to the students. I’ve assembled a list of the material we covered, some planned, some answers to questions posed by the students.
We then did a parry and strike from donna, against the mandritto fendente, and a parry and strike from dente di zenghiaro, against the same blow. The latter is the beginning of our Second Drill:
This lead us to the universal counter-remedy: the pommel strike (as shown in the 8th play of the master of coda longa on horseback).
We then defended against thrusts with the Exchange of thrusts:
Then Breaking the thrust:
In the afternoon session we covered the rear-weighted guards (donna and fenestra), and briefly went over the 3 turns (volta stabile, meza volta, tutta volta), and the four steps (accrescere/discrescere; passare/tornare).
We then did a not-very-deep mechanical dive into the guard bicorno, including how to use it to prevent an exchange, and as a feint. This included an introduction to the woman in the window drill:
The following day, Sunday, we did a pretty thorough overview of Capoferro's rapier. We began with basic footwork:
passes,
lunge,
step,
lean
Which you can find here:
Then played Hunt the debole (to get an idea of what the sword is supposed to be doing- keeping you safe!).
We then worked through Plate 7 (stringer on the inside, thrust through the left eye):
And plate 16 (stringer on the outside, thrust to the neck):
Plate 8 (slip the leg)
Plate 10 (enter against the cut),
Plate 13 (the scannatura)
And plates 17 and/or 19, the avoidances of the right foot or waist:
We also did a pretty deep dive on the mechanics of the lunge. We didn't video the Madison seminar, but I covered the lunge in a similar way in this seminar:
We also looked at the mechanics of passing, specifically the difference between the passing foot pointing forwards or out to the side.
Then we constructed a mechanically sound seconda position, starting from first principles. I covered this in a blog post, here: Function First, then Form
One of my students mentioned tendonitis problems in his wrist on the Swordschool Discord server this week. It’s probably caused by holding his sword incorrectly, which forces the small stabiliser muscles to do more work than they evolved for. He is by no means the first student I’ve seen with this problem.
It has been my experience that almost every sword student at any level in any style is either holding their sword incorrectly, or at the very least, there was room for improvement. This is partly due to most modern sword makers producing handles that are a bit too big (my friends at Arms and Armor have a post on this, here), or a bit too round; and partly due to most people simply not understanding how the mechanics of sword holding is supposed to work.
In essence, your grip strength and wrist stabilisation strength should be acting as back-up systems only: the sword should stay in your hand with almost no strength being used at all, and when you strike, the force coming back from the target should be routed through the bones of your hands and wrist, and thence through your body to the ground, with no need to tighten up on impact at all.
Seriously. Not at all.
Have a look at this video of me hitting the wall target with a rapier, and bashing the tyre with a longsword. My hand is not just relaxed, it’s actually open, to demonstrate beyond reasonable doubt that grip strength is not required.
I have been banging this drum for many, many, years now (I first posted that video in 2012!), and have written this up in many places, and posted endless video content about it, and yet still the sword world has crappy sword holding skills. This is for three reasons:
1. the sword handle is too big
2. because this is very counter-intuitive
3. and also because most people are strong enough to fake it for a while; they think it’s correct, when actually their muscles are faking it for them. Until the pain in the first joint of the thumb kicks in. Or in the elbow. Or indeed anywhere along the chain from fingertip to toes.
So how should you hold the sword?
That depends on what kind of sword it is, and what you want to do with it.
Generally, the sword is either held back in the hand, like so:
Or extended in the grip, like so:
This is also how most chefs hold their kitchen knives when chopping and slicing.
There are exceptions: we do sometimes support the flat instead of the edge, like so:
The sword is usually held back in the hand when it’s also held back near the body, and extended in the hand when the sword arm is extended from the body. Some longsword folk have half-understood this concept and hold their longsword in the extended grip even when the guard is chambered (such as in posta di donna). Some swords are almost always held in the extended grip; rapiers, foils, smallswords are good examples. The basic rule still applies- when holding the sword it should be supported by the bones, not tied in place by the muscles.
The extended grip does not depend on grip strength; you can perfectly well hold the sword with one finger, if it's aligned correctly, like so:
I'm not recommending fighting like this, but it's worth making sure you're not depending on grip strength when holding the sword by opening the thumb, forefinger, ring finger, and little finger, and seeing what happens.
One common error is to extend the wrist, rather than extend the sword in the grip. You need to be able to distinguish between at least three positions of the hand relative to the forearm. Three-knuckle, two-knuckle, and one-knuckle. The easiest way to learn the differences between them is through “Eurythmic push-ups”. You can do them on a mat if you prefer, and you don’t actually need to do the push-up bit; just getting the feeling of the different wrist positions is very helpful.
Cocking the wrist between the ‘three-knuckle’ and ‘one-knuckle’ positions instead of allowing the sword to shift in the grip between the ‘chambered’ and ‘extended’ grips is another common cause of wrist problems.
Please pay attention, this may save you a lot of pain, as well as massively improve your general sword handling.
Holding the Longsword
I introduce the basics of how to hold a longsword in this video borrowed from my Solo Training course
Holding the Rapier
This footage from a rapier seminar I taught in 2012 goes into the correct grip for the rapier in some detail; you can watch the whole thing of course, or skip to about 22 minutes in, where we get into the grip.
If you are already having wrist problems, for any reason, you may find my Arm Maintenance course useful. It’s free, and bundled in with my Human Maintenance course. And if you're interested in mechanics, you should definitely try the free Mechanics course.
One of the most stylish techniques in the system is the punta falsa, literally “false thrust”. Fiore’s instructions are very detailed:
Questo zogo si chiama punta falsa o punta curta, e si diro come la fazzo. Io mostro d’venire cum granda forza per ferir lo zugadore cum colpo mezano in la testa. E subito ch’ello fa la coverta, io fiero la sua spada lizeramente. E subito volto la spada mia de l’altra parte piglando la mia spada cum la mane mia mancha quasi al mezo. E la punta gli metto subita in la gola o in lo petto. E de miglore questo zogo in arme che senza.
This play is called the false thrust or the short thrust, and I’ll tell you how I do it. I show that I am coming with great force to strike the player with a middle blow in the head. And immediately that he makes the cover I strike his sword lightly. And immediately turn my sword to the other side, grabbing my sword with my left hand about at the middle. And I place the thrust immediately in the throat or in the chest. And this play is better in armour than without.
This is the 17th play of the second master of the zogho largo, and so in its basic form is done as a riposte after a successful parry of the first attack (as shown by said master). It can of course be done any time there is an opening to throw the mezano feint, but let’s start out being strictly canonical. We bring this to life like so:
https://youtu.be/BkhdctzyE2g
When practising the punta falsa, there are some things to bear in mind.
Make sure you leave enough space to turn your sword when feinting. A small step offline with the back foot can help, when making the feint.
Keep the turn of the sword tight, by rotating it around the midpoint of the blade, then let the point lead you in.
Cross-handed pairs will find that the punta falsaonly works when there is a forehand (mandritto) mezano being met by a parry on the inside of the attack. This allows the turn to half-sword, which is only mechanically possible from this situation. A left-hander will therefore need to strike the mezano to generate a parry from their opponent’s left side; right-handers need to draw a parry from the opponent’s right side.
Incidentally, in Italian, punta can mean ‘point’ (as in the point of the sword), or ‘thrust’, depending on context. So you may find the term punta falsa translated as ‘false point’, and punta curta as ‘short point’. (or indeed, references to ‘exchanging the point’ or ‘breaking the point’). It doesn’t actually matter from an interpretation standpoint, but as a fencer, I would be more inclined to think about actions rather than parts of the sword. Where it matters are when Fiore is telling us which bit of the swords are crossed (such as in the first master of the zogho largo, crossed at the points of the swords), or where to grab the blade (see for instance the 14th play, where we should grab it ‘near the point’). This has changed over time: in modern Italian ‘a thrust’ is ‘una spinta’, while ‘point of the sword’ remains ‘la punta della spada’.
We should also think a moment about the ‘better in armour’ injunction. Why would Fiore put a play here that apparently belongs in the armoured section? As I see it, it is because firstly it can be done out of armour – it’s quite safe to do if you get it right. And secondly, this play is something that a person wearing armour when you are not might do, and as we shall shortly see, the counter works just fine out of armour.
The next play is the last play of the zogho largo; the instruction is simplicity itself, but the action is very counterintuitive for most people.
Questo sie lo contrario del zogho ch’e me denanzi, zoe de punta falsa overo di punta curta. E questo contrario si fa per tal modo. Quando lo scolaro fieri in la mia spada, in la volta ch’ello da a la sua spada, subito io do volta a la mia per quello modo che lui da volta a la sua. Salvo che io passo ala traversa per trovar lo compagno pui discoverto. E si gli metto la punta in lo volto. E questo contrario e bono in arme e senza.
This is the counter to the play that is before me, so, the false thrust or short thrust. And this counter is done in this way. When the scholar strikes on my sword, in the turn that he makes with his sword, I immediately make a turn to mine, in the same way that he makes a turn to his. Only I also pass across to find the companion more uncovered. And I place the thrust in his face. And this counter is good in armour and without.
The exact nature of the blade action and the relationship between the weapons was first figured out, as far as I know, by Sean Hayes at WMAW 2006. We had just attended a lecture on the manuscript given by Brian Stokes, and seen really high resolution scans for the first time- so clear that places where the manuscript had been corrected (by scraping off the original ink and redrawing a line) could be seen. The counter-remedy master’s sword was suddenly, clearly, on the inside of the player’s (the one trying to do the punta falsa). I will never forget the time about half an hour later when Sean tried out this interpretation on me, and sold it in one go as my attack collapsed as his point magically appeared in my mask.
Here’s how it looks in practice:
https://youtu.be/E4Y0AAZ9Z_0
Perhaps the most common problem when attempting this counter is ending up outside your opponent’s sword. Don’t worry, that’s how everybody did this play for years. It works, it just takes longer. It can also be documented in other sources, so it’s even historically accurate. But if your partner does it, yield immediately to pommel strike on the other side.
The text continues on this page with two paragraphs side by side, with no illustrations:
Qui finisse zogho largo dela spada a doy mani, che sono zoghi uniti gli quali ano zoghi, zoe rimedii e contrarie da parte dritta e de parte riversa. E contrapunte e contratagli de zaschuna rasone cum roture coverte ferire e ligadure, che tutte queste chose lizerissimamente se porio intendere.
Here ends the wide play of the sword in two hands, that are joined together plays, which plays are: remedies, and counters from the forehand and the backhand side, and counterthrusts and countercuts of ever type, with breaks, covers, strikes and binds, that all these things can be very easily understood.
This passage is actually quite tricky to translate, as the second line is unclear: ‘che sono zoghi uniti gli quali ano zoghi, zoe…’
I am translating ‘zoghi uniti’ as ‘joined together plays’, in the sense of they are joined (united) in some way. It’s a clunky sentence, I think. Though the meaning of it is reasonably straightforward to tease out, the exact grammar makes no sense to me. Then Fiore continues with what appears to be a bare-faced lie: these ‘joined together plays’ are apparently “remedies, and counters from the forehand and the backhand side, and counterthrusts and countercuts of ever type, with breaks, covers, strikes and binds.” We have seen nothing, zip, nada, from the backhand side, and while we have arguably seen a counterthrust, countercuts have there been none. Plus, there has been exactly one counter-remedy (the last play of the section), so not ‘contrarie’, counters plural. Unless we count the 14th play, which kind of counters the break and is then countered.
So what do we do with this statement?
I think we go back and play. And sure enough if we take this material and play with it, pretty soon we do end up doing all these different things. Applying the exchange of thrusts idea to cuts gives us something astonishingly like a zornhau ort, for instance.
What’s a zornhau ort? Don’t you read the German stuff too? It’s really interesting… basically, it’s when a mandritto fendente (sorry, forehand oberhau) is met with the same blow, leaving the defender’s point in the attacker’s face. We’ll need something like that for the next section, so I’ll go into it then.
The plays of the zogho stretto are coming up. Take a look at this two-page spread:
The master of the zogho stretto is the first play on the recto page. The text introducing the stretto plays is at the bottom of the verso page. This makes perfect sense when you see the pages as they are bound in the manuscript, but the sense is lost when you look at individual pages. Or worse, when the pages are bound such that the verso pages are printed on the recto side, and vice versa.
The text reads:
Qui cominza zogho de spada a doy man zogo stretto, in lo quale sara d’ogni rasone coverte, e feride e ligadure e dislogadure e prese e tore de spade, e sbatter in terra per diversi modi. E sarano gli remedij e gli contrarij de zaschuna rasone ch’e bisogna a offender e a defender.
Here begins the play of the sword in two hands zogo stretto, in which will be, of every type, covers, and strikes, and locks, and dislocations, and grips, and disarms, and throwings to the ground in various ways. And there will be remedies and counters of every type necessary to offend and defend.
Well, that sorts us out then. It reads like a trailer for a movie: there’ll be drama! And excitement! And explosions! And sticky situations over a pound note! Don’t miss it!
(Full marks if you spotted the Blackadder reference. If you don’t know what Blackadder is, start here. The reference is from Season Three episode Ink and Incapability).
I am now working on the next section, the stretto plays. I’ve been thinking though of not publishing them here, just making them available as part of the book I’m compiling from this series (provisionally titled “Fiore dei Liberi’s Longsword Plays on Foot Out of Armour”). What do you think?
And in the meantime, you can get parts one to three as snazzy ebooks here for reading on your phone, kindle, kobo, or other device.
You can get part one, The Sword in One Hand, as a free PDF by subscribing to my mailing list below, or buy it in ebook format from Amazon or Gumroad.
You can get Part two, Longsword Mechanics, from Amazon or Gumroad
And you can get Part three, the Plays of the Zogho Largo, from Amazon or Gumroad.
The two-page spread of plays against the thrust continues with the six plays relating to breaking the thrust. I’ll cover them all in order, starting with the 11th play of the master of the zogho largo crossed at the middle of the swords, shown on f26v.
The text reads:
Questa sie unaltra deffesa che se fa contra la punta, zoe, quando uno ti tra una punta come to detto in lo scambiar de punta in lo secondo zogo che me denanzi che se de acresser e passar fora di strada. Chossi si die far in questo zogho salvo che lo scambiar de punta se va cuz punta e cum gli brazzi bassi, e cum la punta erta de la spada come ditto denanzi. Ma questa se chiama romper de punta che lo scolaro va cum gli brazzi erti e pigla lo fendente cum lo acresser e passare fora de strada e tra per traverso la punta quasi a meza spada a rebater la a terra. E subito vene ale strette.
This is another defence that is done against the thrust, so, when one thrusts at you as I said in the exchange of thrust, in the second play that is before me, one advances and passes out of the way. So you must do in this play except that in the exchange of thrust you go with the thrust, and with the arms low, and with the point of the sword high, as I said before. But this is called the breaking of the thrust, that the scholar goes with his arms high and catches the fendente with the advance and pass out of the way, and strikes across the thrust about at the middle of the sword to beat it to the ground. And immediately goes to the close plays.
The next play shows the scholar stepping on the player’s sword, like so:
Lo scolaro che me denanzi a rebatuda la spada del zugador a terra, et io complisto lo suo zogho per questo modo. Che rebattuda la sua spada a terra, io gli metto cum forza lo mio pe dritto sopra la sua spada. Overo che io la rompo o la piglo per modo che piu non la pora curare. E questo no me basta. Che subito quando glo posto lo pe sopra la spada, io lo fiero cum lo falso de la mia spada sotto la barba in lo collo. E subito torno cum lo fendente de la mia spada per gli brazzi o per le man com’e depento.
The scholar that is before me has beaten the player’s sword to the ground, and I complete his play in this way. Having beaten his sword to the ground I put my right foot forcefully on his sword. Either I break it or I grab it in such a way that he can no longer fix it [I.e. Recover from it]. And this is not enough for me. Immediately that I have put my foot on the sword, I strike with the false [edge] of my sword under the beard in the throat. And immediately return with the fendente with my sword to the arms or hands as is shown.
Here’s how I do the play in its most basic form:
https://youtu.be/gGD4KAz3JJQ
I just love the instruction to ‘strike with the false edge of your sword under the beard in the throat’. In case you weren’t certain where the throat was. This also reaffirms the general practice in this system of using multiple strikes. We aren’t playing tag, first to touch wins. A single blow may well not incapacitate the opponent. Once you have them where you want them, hit them until there’s no point continuing to do so.
The next play, on the top left of the facing page (f27r) is also a continuation of the breaking of the thrust:
Anchora questo zogho del romper di punta ch’e lo segondo zogho ch’e me denanzi. Che quando io o rebattuda la spada a terra, subito io fiero cum lo pe dritto sopra la sua spada. E inquello ferire io lo fiero in la testa come voy vedete.
Also this play of the breaking of the thrust that is the second play that is before me. When I have beaten the sword to the ground, I immediately strike with the right foot over his sword. And in that strike I will strike him in the head as you can see.
So this is the same play as the one before it, except the strike is to a different target- directly to the head as you step on the player’s sword, rather than cutting the throat first. What follows is a way to deal with the player parrying the strike (which can only happen if you have failed to step on the sword, as indeed the first of these breaking the thrust plays shows). In practice we tend not to step on our training partners’ swords – they are likely to get damaged.
Questo e anchora un altro zogho del romper de punta, che si lo zugadore in lo rompere ch’i’o rotta la sua punta, leva la sua spada ala coverta de la mia, subito io gli metto l’elzo de la mia spada dentro parte del suo brazo dritto apresso la sua mane dritta, e subito piglo la mia spada cum la mia man mancha apresso la punta, e fiero lo zugadore in la testa. Ese io volesse, metteria la al collo suo per segargli la canna de la gola.
This is also another play of the breaking of the thrust, in which if the player, in the breaking that I have broken his thrust, lifts his sword to cover mine, I immediately put the hilt of my sword on the inside part of his right arm close to his right hand, and immediately grab my sword with my left hand close to the point, and strike the player in the head. And if I wish, I could put it to his neck to slice his windpipe.
There are a few things to note here. Firstly, though the player parries the initial riposte, his action does not count as a counter-remedy, and this scholar is not, therefore, a counter-counter-remedy master (as his lack of a crown confirms). Why not? It’s my view that because his action is not shown as a successful counter to the break, it doesn’t merit the term. As Fiore wrote in text above the first master of the dagger (f10v):
Io son primo magistro e chiamado remedio per che rimedio tanto e a dire savere rimediare che non ti sia dado e che possi dare e ferire lo tuo contrario inimigho. Per questa che meglo non si po fare la tua daga faro andar in terra. Voltando la mia mane aparte sinestra.
I am the first master and am called remedy, because remedy is as much as to say to know how to remedy, that you are not given [a blow] and can give [a blow] and strike your own counter [against] the enemy. For this it is better to make your dagger go to the ground. Turning my hand to the left side.
The definition of ‘remedy’ is quite clear- you must be able to prevent the attack from hitting you, and strike afterwards. It’s not enough just to stop the attack. You should also note the change of point of view in this passage. It begins with Fiore addressing us, the reader: ‘so that you are not given a blow’. Then it shifts to address the player so that ‘your dagger goes to the ground’ describes the play, not an instruction to us to drop our weapons! It’s worth remembering that this kind of conversational tone pervades this text.
Returning to the play in question, the player’s attempt to parry ends up with him getting his throat cut. As a matter of good training, I don’t recreate the play this way- there is really no point teaching students to parry in a way that just fails. So in this drill, I have the player countering the break with a pommel strike, closing the line of the blow to the throat or the head (or as Fiore would say, ‘passing with the cover’), which is then countered by the scholar putting their hilt over the player’s arm and following the instructions. I also tend to swap out cutting the throat with a take-down, as you can see in this video:
https://youtu.be/ttFY_EQqvU8
The last pair of plays on this page, the fifteenth and sixteenth of the second master of the zogho largo, can be done as a follow on from the breaking of the thrust, or not, as we will see:
Anchora quando io o rebatuda la punta o vero che sia incrosado cum uno zugadore, gli metto la mia mane dredo al suo cubito dritto, e penzolo forte, per modo che io lo fazzo voltare e discovrire, e poy lo fiero in quello voltare che io gli fazo fare.
Also when I have beaten aside the thrust, or when I am crossed with a player, I put my hand behind his right elbow, and push it hard, in such a way that I make him turn and be uncovered, and can strike him in that turn that I have made him do.
The next play completes this action:
Questo scolaro ch’e me denanzi dise lo vero che per la volta ch’ello ti fa fare per questo modo dredo de ti la testa ti vegno a taglare. Anchora inanzi che tu tornassi ala coverta, io ti poria fare in la schena cum la punta una piaga averta.
This scholar before me tells the truth, that by the turn that he has done to you, in that way I come to cut you from behind in the head. Also before that you would turn to parry, I could give you an open wound in the back with the point.
So, when we can reach the elbow, we can push it and strike from behind, just as we saw in the sixth play of the sword in one hand. This can be done after breaking the thrust, but also whenever we are crossed with the player (at the middle of the swords in zogho largo, at least, given the section that we are in). Notice how specific Fiore is about which elbow to push- as we saw in the 6th abrazare play, where you push ‘the elbow of the hand offending your face’, here you push the elbow of the sword arm. Pushing the other elbow may well not give you full control of the sword. And the window of opportunity is small – you must strike immediately, before they can turn back round to parry.
You can see my interpretation here:
https://youtu.be/96LDqDG9cRU
The theme of thrusting will conclude in the next post, with the punta falsa, and its counter. See you then!
This project is being published in stages. You can get part one, The Sword in One Hand, as a free PDF by subscribing to my mailing list below, or buy it in ebook format from Amazon or Gumroad. You can get Part two, Longsword Mechanics, from Amazon or Gumroad too!
Having kicked our opponent in the groin, we turn the page to see this spread:
[Note, this image is not a photograph of the manuscript opened up; I have just put the scan of each page next to each other.]The story is the same though; having dealt with a whole lot of cuts, including (if you’ll indulge me a moment) too hard, too low, and the regular kind, we now deal with thrusts. The first, and probably ideal, response is to exchange the thrust. We have seen this play before in my discussion of the eighth play of the sword in one hand.
Questo zogho si chiama scambiar de punta e se fa per tal modo zoe. Quando uno te tra una punta subito acresse lo tuo pe ch’e denanci fora de strada e cum l’altro pe passa ala traversa anchora fora di strada traversando la sua spada cum cum gli toi brazzi bassi e cum la punta de la tua spada erta in lo volto o in lo petto com’e depento.
This play is called the exchange of thrust, and it is done like this, thus. When one strikes a thrust at you immediately advance your foot that is in front out of the way and with the other foot pass also out of the way, crossing his sword with with your arms low and with the point of your sword up in the face or in the chest as is pictured.
Note the repeated ‘cum’, ‘with’. A common scribal error. Not secret messages from beyond the grave, ok? The instructions couldn’t be clearer, could they?
Rapier fencers will of course be delighted to see the classic thrust in opposition done with longswords, though one should take care to make the crossing thoroughly, and not race to get the point in. At the end of the zogho largo section, on folio 27v, Fiore wrote:
Qui finisse zogho largo dela spada a doy mani, che sono zoghi uniti gli quali ano zoghi, zoe rimedii e contrarie da parte dritta e de parte riversa. E contrapunte e contratagli de zaschuna rasone cum roture coverte ferire e ligadure, che tutte queste chose lizerissimamente se porio intendere.
Here ends the wide play of the sword in two hands, that are plays together, which plays are: remedies, and counters from the forehand and the backhand side, and counterthrusts and countercuts of ever type, with breaks, covers, strikes and binds, that all these things can be very easily understood.
I’ll discuss this translation in more depth in the post after next (there is a lot to discuss), but for now, just notice the ‘contrapunte’, counterthrust. As I see it, this refers to the exchange of thrusts. That Fiore also mentions (but as far as I can see does not show) countercuts, suggests that the lesson of this play can legitimately be applied to countering a cut with a cut.
At this stage we should remember that Fiore loves us and wants us to be happy. He understands that sometimes one might miss a stroke, and that’s okay. Because this action continues in the tenth play:
De questo scambiar de punta ch’e me denanzi, essi questo zogho, che subito che lo scholar ch’e me denanzi non mettesse la punta in lo volto del zugadore, e lassasela si che non la metesse ne in lo volto ne in lo petto, e per che fosse lo zugadore armado, subito debia lo scolaro cum lo pe stancho inanci passare, e per questo modo lo debia piglare. E la sua spada metter a bon ferire poy che lo zugador apresa sua spada e non po fuzire.
From this exchange of thrust that is before me, comes this play, that immediately that the scholar that is before me does not place the thrust in the player’s face, and leaves it such that he doesn’t place it neither in the face nor the chest, and because perhaps the player was in armour, the scholar must immediately pass forwards with the left foot, and in this way must grab. And put his sword to work with good strikes, because the player’s sword has been grabbed and he cannot get away.
So having missed our thrust, perhaps because the opponent is in armour, we pass again, grabbing the sword and striking. In practice I always teach these plays together, and you should continue with the grab whether you hit the face with the exchange or not. That way if you do miss, you’ll continue without pause.
Here are the plays in action:
https://youtu.be/JEsKnhBm_PU
Next week: breaking the thrust!
This project is being published in stages. You can get part one, The Sword in One Hand, as a free PDF by subscribing to my mailing list below, or buy it in ebook format from Amazon or Gumroad. You can get Part two, Longsword Mechanics, from Amazon or Gumroad too!
We in the historical swordsmanship community are often asked about drawing the sword. I wrote a short chapter on it in my bookSwordfighting. The chapter was short because there isn’t much information in the sources! I think this is because most sources are concerned with swordsmanship for the duel in a European culture, which for some unknown reason has always begun with the swords already drawn. There’s no tradition of the quick-draw (unlike in Japan, for instance, or the Wild West, for another instance).
Let us begin with Fiore’s sword drawing plays, and then have a look at what other masters have to say on the subject. Fiore gives us five plays of the sword in the scabbard against the dagger, but in each of them, the scabbarded sword is being carried in the hands, either point up or point down. This was actually a quite common way to carry your sword, much as we might carry an umbrella today. This is from folio 19v:
Questo e un partido de daga contra spada. Quello che a daga e tene quello della Spada per lo cavezo dise io te feriro cum mia daga inanci che tu cavi la spada dela guagina. E quello de la spada dise tra puro che son aparechiado. E come quello dela daga vol trare, quello de la spada fa segondo che depento qui dredo.
This is a situation of the dagger against the sword. The one with the dagger has the one with the sword by the collar [and] says: “I will strike you with my dagger before you can draw the sword from its scabbard”. And the one with the sword says “strike as you will for I am prepared”. And as the one with the dagger wants to strike, the one with the sword does the action as it is shown after this.
Note: I translate partido here as “situation” rather than “technique” as it fits better, because a ‘technique of the dagger against the sword’ would imply that the dagger is doing the technique (and will therefore win), which is not the case here. You’ve got to love the smack-talk, which is actually rendered as dialogue. Also note how careful Fiore is to let us know who is doing what: ‘the one with the sword’ or ‘the one with the dagger’.
Also note: Alberto Dainese spotted an error and kindly emailed me to correct it. Thanks Alberto!
The action that follows is lovely: drop the point of the scabbarded sword onto the attacker’s elbow, controlling their weapon; then draw the sword and run them through. Like so:
Quando costuy leva lo brazo per darme de la daga subito glo posta la guagina apozada al suo brazo de la daga per modo che non mi po far impazo. E subito sguagino la mia spada e si lo posso ferire inanci che’ello mi possa tochare cum sua daga. Anchora poria torgli la daga dela mano per lo modo che fa lo primo magistro de daga. Anchora porave ligarlo in ligadura mezana ch’e lo terzo zogo d’la daga del primo magistro ch’e rimedio.
When this man lifts his arm to give me [a strike] of the dagger, I immediately put the scabbard on his dagger arm in such a way that he cannot cause me any trouble. And immediately I unsheathe my sword and can strike him before he can touch me with his dagger. Also I could take the dagger out of his hand in the way that the first master of the dagger does. Also I could have bound him in the middle lock, that is the third play of the dagger, of the first master that is a remedy [master].
This is quite straightforward, and you can see how I do it here:
https://youtu.be/yWp9dx9cdgI
Yes, I include the trash-talking dialogue!
There are some interesting depths to this. Firstly, you have to love the idea of using your scabbarded sword to constrain the opponent. We tend to think of the scabbard being always attached to a belt, but in fact it was quite common for swords to be carried, especially in town. They would often be handed over to the servants with your cloak and hat when you entered a home. It’s interesting to note that Fiore specifies that you constrain ‘the dagger arm’, rather than ‘his right arm’. This allows for the possibility of left-handed attackers (as are explicitly mentioned on f43v in the context of mounted combat), and echoes the sixth play of abrazare.
Okay, I’ll briefly digress into the abrazare…
The abrazare section begins with the master, shown controlling the player’s arms. The next play shows his scholar breaking the player’s left arm, the one that was extended to the master’s collar. The third play shows what you should do if the player removes their arm from your collar while or before you are trying to break it. The fourth play shows what to do if the original grip is the same, but the player has the right foot forwards. This foot placement prevents both the arm break, and the throw, and requires you to throw them in the other diagonal. The fifth play shows the counter to a situation where the player has grabbed you round the waist (but their feet are as they were in the first-third plays). The sixth play is the first counter-remedy master shown in the entire book, so pay attention:
Io son contrario del Vto zogo denanci apresso. Esi digo che se cum la mia mane dritta levo lo suo brazo de la sua mane che al volto mi fa impazo, faro gli dar volta per modo ch’io lo metero in terra, per modo che vedeti qui depento, overo che guadagnaro presa o ligadura, e de tuo abrazar faro pocha cura.
I am the counter of the fifth play immediately before me. And so I say that with my right hand I lift his arm, of the hand that offends my face, I make him turn in such a way that I put him on the ground, in the way that you see shown here, or I can gain a grip or a lock, and I’ll make your wrestling [skills] useless.
The point I’m interested in here is this: he specifies that you should push the arm that belongs to the hand that is at your face. And you can see that while doing the fifth play exactly as shown has the scholar’s right arm at the face, in the sixth play the counter-remedy master is pushing his opponent’s left arm. This is not a mistake, as such. It’s a general principle, showing what it would look like if the scholar used the other hand.
This is a handy illustration of a) the need to read the text- just following the pictures exactly would be impossible, and b) the fact that these are plays not just techniques. The play will often embody a principle that can be applied in other situations. Returning to the sword against the dagger: it may be obvious that you should constrain the dagger arm, not the other…. Except, in the fifth master of the dagger, you can do either. The master himself, on f38r (which has been bound in the middle of the mounted combat section; this folio belongs between f14 and f15), shows how to deal with an attacker who grabs you by the collar with one hand, and has a dagger in the other.
Io son Quinto Re Magistro per lo cavezzo tenudo di questo zugadore. Inanzi ch’ello mi traga cum sua daga, per questo modo gli guasto lo brazo, per che lo tenir ch’ello mi tene a mi e grande avantazo. Che io posso far tutte coverte, prese e ligadure degl’altri magistri rimedii, e di lor scolari che sono dinanzi. Lo proverbio parla per exempio. Io voglio che ognun ch’ascolaro in quest’arte sazza, che presa di chavezo nissuna deffesa no impaza.
I am the fifth king master held by the collar by this player. Before he strikes me with his dagger, in this way I destroy his arm, because the hold he has on me is a great advantage to me, so I can make all the covers, grips, and locks of the other remedy masters, and of their scholar that are before [me]. The proverb speaks by example. I want that everyone who is a scholar in this art to know that the grip on the collar does not hinder any defence.
The master and his first five scholars all deal with the extended arm, as do scholars eight and nine; the others (six, seven, ten and eleven) deal with the dagger arm. I interpret this as a matter of threat assessment: if the dagger is within reach, or coming towards you, deal with it; otherwise, destroy the extended arm. This clearly relates to the second and third plays of wrestling: if the extended arm is available, break it; if not, then throw. Here in the play of the sword against the dagger, Fiore is explicitly telling us to deal with the dagger arm- perhaps because even if it is held back as a threat, we can reach it with the scabbarded sword, when we couldn’t with just a hand.
This is quite straightforward, and you can see how I do it here:
https://youtu.be/yWp9dx9cdgI
Yes, I include the trash-talking dialogue!
This page continues with two other ways to do the same defence, starting with the sword held point down.
Questo sie un altro partito de spada e daga. Quello chi tene la spada cum la punta in terra per modo che vedete, dise aquello de la daga che lo tene per lo cavezo, Tra pur cum la daga a tua posta che in quello che tu vora trare cum la daga, io sbatero la mia spada soprano lo tuo brazzo, e in quello sguaginero la mia spada tornando cum lo pe dritto in dredo, e per tal modo ti poro ferire inanci cum mia spada che tu mi fieri cum tua daga.
This is another technique of the sword and the dagger. The one that has the sword with the point down in the way that you see, says to the one with the dagger that has him by the collar “Just strike with the dagger, with your guard in which you want to strike with the dagger, I will beat my sword over your arm, and in that [motion] draw my sword, passing the right foot back, in such a way that I can strike you with my sword before you strike me with your dagger.”
This is basically the same play, just done from a different starting point. You can see how I do it here:
https://youtu.be/o3Qfo3KGXAY
Finally we have the scabbarded sword being swung up to defend against the dagger attack (a presaging of the plays of the sword in one hand, do you think?). Looking closely at the images, we see that the sword is being held differently: in the first image, where we whip the sword down onto the arm, the sword hand is thumb down; in the second, where we swing it up, it’s thumb up.
first image: thumb up.second image: thumb down.
Does it make a difference? He doesn’t mention it in the text, but try it both ways and you tell me…
Questo e simile partito a questo qui dinanzi. Ben che non si faca per tal modo ch’e ditto e qui dinanzi. Questo zogo se fa per tal modo ch’e ditto qui dinanzi, che quando questo cum la daga levera lo brazo per ferirme, io subito levero la mia spada in erto sotto la tua daga, metendote la punta de la mia guagina dela spada in lo volto, tornando lo pe ch’e dinanzi in dredo. E chossi te posso ferire segondo ch’e depinto dredo a me.
This is a similar technique to the one that’s here before. But it isn’t done in the same way as is said in the one before. This play is done in in the way that is said here before, that when the one with the dagger raises his arm to strike me, I immediately raise my sword up under your dagger, putting the point of my sword’s scabbard in your face, passing back with the front foot. And so I can strike you in the way that is shown after me.
Then on the next page, f20r, we have the conclusion to this play. Note the way the sword is held like a very long dagger, which accords with the grip illustrated.
Questo zogo sie del magistro che fa lo partito qui dinanzi. Che segondo chello ha ditto per tal modo io fazo. Che tu vedi bene che tua daga tu no mi poy fare nissuno impazo.
This play is of the master that does the technique before this one. I do it in the way that he has said. You can well see that your dagger cannot cause me any trouble.
The text is a little confusing here- is it the same as the play before it, or not? As I read it, it’s similar, but not the same. The action is quite clear though. Here’s how I do it:
https://youtu.be/7TiHYphEbsM
You can also see my take on how to do these plays in The Medieval Dagger, pp. 148-154.
Note that when the sword is high, you strike down, but when the sword is down, you can strike both downwards, and upwards. I find that the same general rule applies with the longsword guards; I don’t usually strike upwards from a high guard (though of course Fiore says that donna does all seven blows of the sword, so there are exceptions).
When not carried in the hand, swords were generally suspended from a waist belt in a scabbard, on the non-dominant side (so, on the left for right handers). Daggers, and very short swords, are usually worn the same side as the hand that will use them. The reason for this is blade length. If you snag a tape measure by your right hip and see how far you can pull it out with your right hand, then snag it by your left hip and try the same thing (with your right hand), you will find that drawing across your body allows you to draw a much longer weapon. On me the difference is 90cm (35”) to 130cm (51”).
Some seventy years after Fiore, Vadi shows this play (in his De Arte Gladiatoria Dimicandi, folio 40r, from about 1485. See my The Art of Sword Fighting in Earnest for a complete translation and commentary):
Unlike Fiore’s actions, this can be done with the scabbard attached to the belt, as one would expect, but is not shown that way here. The text reads only “Dagger technique” and “Finish of the technique”.
Capoferro
In his Gran Simulacro (from 1610), Capoferro does include a brief mention of drawing the sword, in the text regarding this plate:
Under the title “Way to Place the Hand on the Sword” (as I would translate it) he simply tells us to step back with the right foot, and extend your arm (presumably with the sword attached) in prima (above the shoulder), unless you have your left foot forwards, in which case you can unsheathe the sword without moving your feet. And if you have other weapons (cape or dagger), then draw your left foot back while presenting the sword in quarta (on your left) to keep the opponent away while you sort out your weapons.
That’s it. Nothing at all on how exactly to pull it out of the scabbard, to hold it, or anything like that.
Thibault
The most detailed discussion of drawing the sword that I can find is in Girard Thibault’s glorious Academie de l’espee (1630, translated by John Michael Greer in 2006, published by Chivalry Bookshelf) He devotes chapter 3 to “The Correct Way of Drawing the Sword and Entering Into Measure”. Most interesting to me is his instruction to advance on the enemy while drawing, “meeting him with a spirited resolve”.
In Tabula III, up in the top left, you see four images, labelled A to D.
I will paraphrase the instructions for the sake of brevity:
A: After a few paces forwards, grab your hanger and scabbard with your left hand; step with your left foot, and as it lands, grip your sword with your right hand, with your forefinger over the outside arm of the hilt.
B: Keep stepping forwards; as your right foot lifts, grip the scabbard hard; lift your right foot higher than usual, draw the sword while opening your right hand [yes, he really says that]; pause your right foot in the air.
C: Close your right hand; turn the wrist; pick up your point in a half-circle until level with your shoulder, with your point back. Keep your arm slightly bent.
D: Bring the sword down in an overhand blow as you place your right foot; step with your left foot, and while it is moving, let the sword carry on down to your hip, while you turn the sword in your hand and put your thumb on the inside arm of the hilt. [Thibault has a very non-standard way to hold a sword.]
This goes on for another paragraph, and even with all these steps, you are still not yet in measure!
He also includes instruction on drawing while retreating, captured in images E, F, G and H, also on Tabula III.
Angelo
Domenico Angelo covers the draw briefly, in his definitive l’Ecole des Armes (1763). I use “definitive” advisedly: in Diderot’s Encyclopedie, the first true Encyclopedia ever compiled (between 1750 and 1772), the entry on fencing is simply a complete reproduction of Angelo’s book. Malcolm Fare (owner of the copy of Thibault photographed above, and proprietor of the National Fencing Museum) notes that “Diderot’s Escrime section, although undated, is believed to have been published in 1765 (see the University of Michigan’s translation project, which identifies the section as being included in vol. 4, 1765), 2 years after the first appearance of L’Ecole des Armes.” (Private correspondence, June 7th 2016.)
This is from the English translation, The School of Fencing, produced by his son Harry in 1787, pages 4-5.
The First Position to Draw a Sword
You must stand straight on you legs, with your body sideways; keep your head upright and easy, look your adversary in the face, let your riht arm hang down your right thigh, and your left arm bend towards your left hip; your left heel should be near the point of your right foot, the point of your right foot in a line with your knee, and directed towards your adversary; and, holding your sword towards the dook of your scabbard, you must present yourself in order to draw.
In this position, fixing your eyes on your adversary, bend your right arm and raise it to the height of your shoulder, and carrying your hand the to the grip of your sword, which hold tight and firm, turning your nails toward the belt, draw your sword, raising your hand in a line with your left shoulder, and make a half circle, with vivacity, over your head, presenting the point in a line to your adversary, but no higher than his face, nor lower than the last rib, holding your arm straight, without stiffness in the elbow, or the wrist; in presenting thus the point, you must raise the left arm in a semi -circle, to the height of your ear, and single your left shoulder well, that the whole body may be in a profile; which instruction cannot be too closely attended to.
This is clearly not a quick-draw method! He is describing the formal draw at the beginning of an academy bout, perhaps, or a real duel, in which all the punctilios are being observed.
Note that in all these examples the draw is always done while out of measure; there are no sources I can find to tell us how to draw quickly when surprised. Perhaps because there is nothing to it; you just pull the damn thing out as fast as you can. As I said before, I think this is also because fast-draw techniques were not traditionally part of the fight; you draw out of measure, and then the duel begins. It was thought cowardly to strike while your opponent’s weapon is still in its scabbard.
Returning to Fiore (as ever), the plays of the sword in one hand begin (as we saw) with the sword held in the same position that it would be if it were in a scabbard attached to the waist. You certainly can do these plays incorporating a draw, and it's no coincidence that the sword in one hand plays follow on from this section on drawing the sword against the dagger. But, I am enough of a purist that because Fiore chose not to show the sword in a scabbard at the beginning of the sword in one hand section, I cannot see these plays as sword draws. If they were intended as such, it would be mentioned in the text (it isn't), or shown in the pictures (it isn't). You are of course entitled to your own opinion, which you're welcome to share in the comments!
This project is being published in stages. You can get part one, The Sword in One Hand, as a free PDF by subscribing to my mailing list below, or buy it in ebook format from Amazon or Gumroad. You can get Part two, Longsword Mechanics, from Amazon or Gumroad too! This post will be edited into part one when I put the four sections (Sword in One Hand, Mechanics, Largo, and Stretto) together into one volume for print.
