For the beginning of the new academic year and the reopening of the Salle after the Summer break, Ordine della Lame Scaligere in Verona held an open night to showcase the club’s fencing school and all its current disciplines to potential new comers.
With club mates and opponents for the night Nicola and Davide, I had the responsibility to show longsword and medieval sword & buckler to our guests, in a couple of demonstrative judged bouts. Instructors and other members of the club showed sabre, renaissance sword & buckler, side sword, armoured fencing and choreographed fencing for reenactment to the interested crowd.
The open night went very well and we already have some new brave beginners!
“I would like to share this effort from Sala d’Arme dell’Appeso at retrieving fencing fundamentals (timing, distance, footwork) from two manuscripts belonging to Liechtenauer’s tradition. Thanks to Davide Morleo, Francesco Viola and Federico Dall’Olio for months of trial and discusssion (and costant spam and delirium by my side about olympic korean sabreaurs). Thanks to Maciej Talaga too for his kind and crucial feedback and contribute.(I remade the post since last one didn’t seem to work)“
Sword in one hand has four guards(ish), though most people view it as only one. The guards are:
High on the right, depicted here as something like Donna, or it could be something closer to Fenestra as the end point of a roverso sottano (rising backhand cut) or the preparation for an imbroccata (a thrust that descends on the line of mandritto). I would say Donna and Fenestra for simplicity.
A point forward low guard on the right, depicted here with hand withdrawn slightly, for the purpose of throwing a thrust or punta. I would call it Coda Longa Alta, just to stick with later nomenclature for this position.
Coda Longa on the left side, shown here backweighted, also called the deflecting guard. Using later nomenclature, you could also call it a variant of Porta di Ferro Larga, or Guardia Sotto il Bracchio (underarm guard)
From right Donna, cut a dritto fendente down into Coda Longa on a right pass in, cut a roverso sottano up into Fenestra on a left pass in, thrust an overhand thrust that withdraws immediately into Coda Longa Alta, thrust an underhand thrust advancing the right foot and a full step back with a roverso fendente that circles up onto your shoulder in right Donna again.
Donna can beat, cover, break, exchange, and with a cut first to bind on, can turn a villano.
Fenestra can easily cover, break, and exchange, or with the same bind villano.
Coda Longa Alta is can beat, cover, and exchange easily, but doesn’t have the same facility to break. With an attempt to exchange as the way to bind on, you can then villano.
Coda Longa as depicted on the right, can beat, cover, break, and villano easily, but has difficulty exchanging the thrust.
This simple schema of sword on the right and left in 2-4 guard schemas appears in Fiore, Talhoffer, Viggiani & Capoferro & Dall’Agocchie’s simple duel preparation, Pietro Monte, and Marc’Antonio Pagano’s sword in one hand, suggesting that it’s a well known, simple, and effective schema for intense and varied fighting. I’m going to get deeper into Pagano and Monte this next week or two to really play with the concepts. Sword in one hand proved to be an effective and high percentage strategy for closing to Stretto at Boar’s Tooth.
Also worth noting that porta di ferro mezzana is transitioned through in the sword in 1 hand version of the rompere (remember armizare is all about moving from guard to guard) and posta di donna la sinestra & dente di cenghiaro in one hand show up as well, albeit on horseback. Also i would call the withdrawn thrusting position breve rather than coda lunga alta as it fits with fiore’s guard naming conventions better (if this were bolognese i would otherwise agree with you)
Agreed, especially with the point about horseback convention. That’s absolutely Breve. Donna, Breve, and Coda Longa (deflecting guard). Including the sword in one hand on horseback, we would have to add Donna La Sinestra and Dente di Cenghiaro, as you note, and that’s much more rounded.
I’m going to keep playing with this, but making the assumption that Fiore was aware of a distance measure that fits with the circular segno is probably fair (since the Italians claim later that the segno is ancient). From there, it’s a matter of fitting footwork, the Five Elements (beat, cover, break, exchange, villano), and the specific plays that fit from the system as a whole.
I have a taller, drunker, more experienced, overconfident person try to stab a shorter, sober, less experienced person (they have SOME experience, but knives/close combat isn’t their specialty so they’re better at Disengage-and-Get-the-Hell-out-of-Dodge than prolonged fighting). I’d like it to go Shorty: Yeep?! A knife? Both: Struggle over control of knife. Drunky: Loses control of the knife Shorty: Accidentally stabs Drunky in the chest/heart. I’d appreciate advice on how to have it go. Thanks!
Someone who is experienced with a knife knows precisely what it means when they draw one, even when they’re drunk.
They want to kill you.
If they’re drunk enough to be tipsy with their judgement impaired enough to commit murder in a public place but not drunk enough to be tripping over their own feet, then they’re going to be a very dangerous opponent. Knives are very good for killing at close ranges and drunken people can be very difficult to anticipate. Think about this, Drunken Fist is an entire martial art built around learning to move like you are drunk while being sober. This is because the way you move when you are drunk will throw experienced fighters off. A drunken person is looser, faster, and has their tells muted by the strange movements of their body. (Writing drunken characters is made easier if you yourself have ever been drunk, or been around people when they’re drunk.) You end up in a place where things will either go fantastically well while you’re on autopilot i.e. performing complex gymnastics you were too afraid to do before or driving yourself home without incident, or horribly. Drunk crashing, murder, falling to your death, and all other terrible to straight up weird things that can happen when your brain is not firing on all cylinders.
Just remember, when they’re drunk they have all the skills they possess when they’re sober. Their inhibitions are gone, which makes them more dangerous and not less. An angry drunk person is more likely to run you down with a car because they’re running on impulse and the concept of consequences is a distant third. Martial arts retrains your reflexes so you can function without thinking, react without thinking, and do what you want in the moment when you want to do it. Alcohol takes away the inhibitions that will stop you from doing what you want in the moment when you want to do it.
Now, here’s the worse news. Being able to anticipate your enemy’s movements in order to intercept their strikes before they reach extension is necessary when you’re looking at any kind of disarm, but especially with knives. You have less than a second to recognize what’s happening and react, which requires you see the draw coming from starting movements in their eyes, shoulder and chest muscles rather than when they actually pull the knife.
Knives are no game, they are deadly and you are much more likely to get stabbed while attempting any disarm than you are to take the knife away. Knife disarms are less dangerous than gun disarms, but that’s like saying your 99.9% chance of failure has been bumped down to 95%. You’ve got slightly better odds of survival, but they’re not great. You’ve got a better chance if you know what you’re doing than if you don’t, but the likelihood is that you’ll still get stabbed or accidentally impale yourself trying the disarm. If you’re not used to working with knives, you’ll lose track of the knife and its length. Your body’s reflexes won’t be trained to move completely out of the way, and you’re likely to get stabbed just trying to stop the blade from hitting you. It’s important to remember that knives are very dangerous even when you’re practiced, and in a scuffle it is easy to misjudge distance. If you fuck up, you’re getting stabbed, possibly multiple times in rapid succession. If you grab the blade, you’re getting cut or stabbed. If you fail to stop the arm before the attack gains inertia and don’t get out of the way, you’re getting stabbed. If you block the knife with your arm/forearm, you’re getting stabbed.
Knives are often portrayed as the smaller, less dangerous brother of the sword. That is not at all true. They are more dangerous, more flexible, more vicious in close quarters against unarmored/unarmed opponents, and do not require much skill to wield effectively. They are fast, they’re blink and you’ll miss it fast. This is zero to sixty in a fraction of a second with a bleed out following not long after.
Knives used in the hand range and are supplemental to fists. The fight begins in the range where the knife will have access to the entire body, and it is a weapon that can puncture your gut, sever tendons, and cut open muscles. Not only that, but you’re not going to get stabbed the one time. If they get the opportunity, you’ll most likely be stabbed six or seven in rapid succession.
Remember, if someone pulls a knife on you, they are threatening your life. The same is true for your characters. If they are in a situation where someone has pulled a knife on them, their life is being threatened. If they pull a knife on another character, they are threatening that character’s life. Regardless of the character’s intention when they draw their weapon, it is important to understand what the action means and what the threat is.
So, let’s talk about knife disarms.
Some Golden Rules of Knife Disarms
Don’t. Touch. The. Knife.
In knife combat, your target is the arm that holds the blade and not the blade itself. This is especially true if you are unarmed. So, don’t grab the blade. Grab the wrist. Grab the arm. Then, once the arm stops moving, you can take the knife by grabbing the handle and rolling it against your attacker’s thumb to forcibly release the grip.
Get Off The Vector!
You have to get away from the blade when that blade comes at at you. Your choices are to go forward, back, or to the side. Forward to stop the arm before the swing begins, backward to keep from getting stabbed while you go for the knife, sideways to get out of the way. You always want the knife off an attack vector on your body so that when you try to take the blade they can’t just lean into the attack a little harder and stab you.
They will do that, by the way. If you get a bad grip or they twist out of it, they can just roll over and finish what they started. Meanwhile, depending on which angle you stopped it, you risk getting cut/cutting yourself just moving the knife into position for the disarm.
Your combat reflexes are also a problem when dealing with knives, most of the traditional ways you’d move to block an attack will get you stabbed (albeit in a slightly different place than your aggressor intended.) One of the big issues with knife disarms is if you’re not worked to working with knives is that you’ll walk right into the strike even if you successfully “stopped” it.
Catch Before Extension or After. Do Not Try The Disarm During.
The rules of blocks and deflections are necessary to grasp if you want to write knife disarms. Against fists the difference is getting hit. With a knife, failure means you will be stabbed. Blocks and deflections are not about physical strength, they rely on disrupting the body’s mechanics.
In many martial arts, a punch or kick is broken down into stages.
Chamber. Extension. Recoil.
Chamber is when the arm or leg is bent before they extend into the strike. Stopping a punch or kick must be done before the arm or leg extends. If you want to stop a knife thrust, you need to catch that thrust in the moments before the arm fully extends i.e. while the elbow is still bent.
Extension is when the arm extends into motion, when it has gained momentum, and the moment before the elbow or knee locks into place.
Recoil is when the arm or leg withdraws after the strike, pulling back into the chambered position before returning to position.
The easy one to conceptualize is the overhead strike where the arm cycles into a downward arc to strike at the throat or shoulder. You catch the arm while it’s still behind the head before it reaches the zenith of the circle and begins to come down, i.e. while the elbow still points behind the head instead of facing you. This is the stage before the strike gains momentum. If you catch it too late, the strike will go through your block and hit you. With a knife strike, the stakes are higher. If you fail, you’re taking a blade to your shoulder, chest, or neck.
The second option with a knife is to catch the arm after it has extended, which means you must get out of the way of the strike first. The strike goes past you, and you catch the arm before it recoils for another strike.
Keep Track of the Knife.
You can deflect knife strikes, and that works under similar principles as a block. You redirect the arm somewhere else. The issue with this method is you need to have pinpoint precision for exactly how far the blade extends as part of their arm. In order to cut you, a knife just needs to connect. If any body part is within reach, it risks being cut. If your body is on line or on the same vector as the knife when you stop it, you risk your opponent pushing past the catch and stabbing you anyway. You need to track the extra reach of the blade at all times or risk being stabbed even when you do everything right. You always want your body off the knife’s vector, and the knife away from you.
When you’re writing knife combat this step is crucial to conveying tension and necessary to remember when you’re positioning your characters. In a fictional world, your characters will only be stabbed when you decide they will be. They only fail when you decide they will. This can lead to sloppy writing and negation of danger, which negates your tension if you’re not abiding by the rules. To convey that sense of danger, you need your audience aware of the knife; where it is, how close it is, what it’s doing, if your character let it stay on attack vector, tried to stop it, and didn’t get out of the way.
It’s All About The Thumb
Don’t fight four fingers when you can fight one. If you’re going to take a one handed weapon held in a forward facing grip away from someone, roll that weapon back against the thumb and twist. Focus on the weak points in the grip rather than attacking the whole grip.
Gotta Go Fast.
You don’t have time to play around with a knife, if you imagine a prolonged scuffle for the weapon or if your character gets into one then they significantly increased the likelihood they were getting stabbed. The closer that knife is to your body, the greater the chance of penetration, and even surface level nicks are deadly. They don’t need a single finishing blow, they can just cut away quick enough for you to bleed to death. This is the point of first blood, by the way. You take a wound to your body where you begin bleeding, no matter where that wound is, and you are at a serious disadvantage.
The longer this fight goes on, the more the advantage gets handed to the person with the weapon.
Onto some other problems.
The chest is not a good place to stab someone, you’re not getting to the heart unless you’re damn lucky. You’ve got an entire plate of bone called the sternum protecting it. The more necessary your body parts are, the more protection they get. You need a lot of force, and it’s just not worth the effort. Not when you have the stomach there and much readily available. Though, that’s not a quick death. You’re character can try but between their inexperience and the difficulty of the target, this drunk character isn’t going to die. The other major arteries are the same way, there’s not a lot of chance you’ll get them if you’re not experienced at finding them.
With a knife, you need to be skilled at using it in order to deliver sudden and immediate death otherwise you’re stuck with lingering, painful death from a slow bleed out after your major internal organs have been turned into chunky salsa.
Now, this fight is happening in a public place, so there’s a greater likelihood of this character receiving medical aid quick enough for them to survive or someone being close enough to intervene. More than that, where are their friends? And the other bystanders? And the bartender? I have a hard time imagining these two characters being the only ones duking it out in an empty bar.
A character used to disengagement isn’t going to take the option to fight a dangerous opponent against whom they’re outmatched if they can run away. That’s just… smart. A bar provides you with a lot of opportunities to do just that. There are a lot of options to get objects between yourself and the person attacking you in order to create the opening needed to get away. They’re also in the kind of tight quarters where they can’t control their own movement and could get forced into the knife by someone else in the environment or the environment itself. They’ve got no margin for error, and the bar is a situation where there’s a chance all the errors will occur.
You’re basically trying to engineer a situation where this character is forced to kill this other character. The goal is to use alcohol to force the situation and then level the playing field. The problem is you’ve got a character, by your own admission, where this kind of fight isn’t their forte and a situation where knife disarms need to be for them to be successful.
Taking a knife from someone who doesn’t know what they’re doing with it is difficult and you’re at high risk of getting stabbed. Taking a knife from someone who knows what they’re doing, even if they’re drunk, is almost impossible. They’ve trained their body and their reflexes to do this, even when they’re in no condition to be doing this. The drunken fencer accidentally killing another sober person is ironically more likely than the drunken fencer getting killed. Depending on how much they’ve drunk and what their tolerance is, the alcohol actually makes killing easier because it removes their inhibitions. They don’t have to second guess anything, they can just do. They call it liquid courage for a reason.
Now, that’s from a practical standpoint. From a narrative standpoint, this piece of violence will be trivial unless the death of this other character leads somewhere interesting with real, severe consequences for your protagonist. If the violence doesn’t go anywhere and just exists for cheap guilting or to prove the character can kill then it just isn’t interesting. Violence is a high risk tool with high risk consequences that you can use to create real stakes, but when violence is misused you also cheapen your entire narrative. You can destroy your stakes, wreck your tension, and end up boxed in by your own writing.
What’s the point?
Did this other character have a real reason to draw their knife on this other character and attempt to kill them? Or are they just a puppet sacrificed to establish the protagonist?
It better be a really good reason, let me tell you. Alcohol takes away inhibitions, but it doesn’t make you do anything you weren’t already prone to doing. The beef better be real, and based in the sort of emotional reaction you’d be willing to ruin your life over.
Where are the other characters?
Where is the bartender?
Who else is going to intervene?
When setting up a versus in your head, it is really easy to over focus on that and forget about everything surrounding your characters. A drawn weapon is a danger to everyone in the room, not just the character who is being threatened. Other people, whether they’re friends, allies, enemies, or strangers, will be inclined to jump in. A bar fight has stakes for the owner and employees of the establishment, they can’t stay in business if their bar isn’t safe. Drawing a weapon represents a direct threat to that safety for the social order.
These consequences and considerations are part of your world building. Ask yourself, is there someone close enough to stop this fight?
You may not see it that way, but you should be aware of the fact that the bar brawl scene is cliche. One countless other writers have already used for some cheap, consequence free violence to show how their protagonist is a badass. The violence in fictional bars rarely goes anywhere. Cheap violence damages your narrative.
So, don’t be cheap.
You don’t need a character behaving violently to show that the character is dangerous or knows what they’re doing. In fact, doing so runs counter to showing that.
Lastly, there’s no such thing as an accidental stabbing. This is especially true when you’ve killed the other person. Knives are like guns. They’re weapons used to kill the other person. Characters who have any experience with martial combat know that. They know what holding a knife means, the threat it represents, and how the combat is going to end. They or the other person will be seriously wounded or dead. Even when you’re wielding one in self-defense or fighting someone else with a knife, that is the outcome.
“Oh, but I didn’t mean to do that” is not a good justification, legally or narratively. “He was going to kill me so I killed him first” is better. “I killed him because I had to.” “I killed him to protect someone precious to me.” “I killed him because I wanted to.” “I killed him because he threatened my life.” “I killed him.” “I… yeah, I did.”
If you’re going to have your character kill another character, you need to put on your grown up pants and have them mean it. This is especially true when they’re trained. Accidents are not a get out of jail free card, or a great way to show your character knows what they’re doing but just couldn’t control it, or particularly meaningful way of raising the stakes.
Killing another person requires commitment. You don’t get there through half-measures. Humans are actually rather difficult to do in. We’re impressively good at killing each other, but it takes a fair amount of work. Besides, I mean, this character is drunk. He’s got a better than average chance of stabbing himself with the knife or falling on it and killing himself, or falling into a table and stabbing some innocent bystander long before this other character has time to take the knife from him.
You gotta commit. Whether in martial arts, or in your writing, or in life, you won’t get anywhere with half-measures. We cross the threshold by acting, by believing we’ll get there, and by committing to what we’re about to do. The same goes for your Shorty.
There aren’t clean endings to knife fights. Violence requires you be willing to hurt and even kill another person. The same is true whether or you’re on the giving or the receiving end. If they can’t commit, they’ll never stop that knife to begin with.
I kept wanting to add more and more stuff to this but realised it was meant to be a short crash course intro to some sources, so here you go. A rundown of the major sources of information we have on Johannes Liechtenauer.
Consider this like a really basic road-map to sources if you decide to crack one open. It’ll show you roughly where you’re at and where you might want to go next.
Needless to say there is much, much more to it than this. But it could get you started.
In a couple of sources, there is a bit of sword-anatomy referred to as the “window” or “little window.” This part was known to the old fencers as a tactically significant part of the weapon, at least enough to write techniques about.
It’s referred to specifically for use in two quite different techniques. The first one is in HS3227a.
zo haw eyn öberhaw gleich czu ym / alzo das du dynen ort schüst / ym czu seyner linken seiten öber dem gehilcze yn / alzo das du das selbe löchel vnd fensterleyn / io gerade treffest / czwischen der sneide~ vnd deme gehilcze / triftz du / zo hastu / gesigt /
So cut an oberhau likewise against him, casting your point out to his left side over the hilt, and aim to arrive right at the little opening or window between the edge and the hilt. If you meet him here, you’ve won.
This opening has been noted by modern fencers as a weakness to the thrust. I can’t say for sure why the old fencers valued it, but for me, it’s good because the opponent has a habit of guiding our point into their body with the hilt, if we engage their blade in such a position. A lot of the winding plays in the Liechtenauer glosses would seem to make use of this position. It’s also the part of the sword closest to their body in a parry (unless they’re holding the thing backwards or whatever, can’t rule anything out), so your chances of circumventing a parry through it are higher than anywhere else on the blade.
Second does not describe the “anatomy” of the sword-bit, but the name is the same and the use makes it pretty clear, in Hundsfeld:
Item gee auf mit dem knopf vnd vor setz mit dem venster vnd greif in das halbswert vnd wechsel die hinder hant foren vnd slach ÿm zu dem hals ~
Next, go up with the pommel and parry with the window. Grasp in the half-sword and switch the rear hand forward, then strike the opponent to the neck.
A pretty Chadly maneuver actually: Pommel moves up with the point hanging down, and we take hold of the blade. We are told to parry with the window. Why? My guess is to catch the opponent’s parry and lock it in our sword rather than let it slide off (and through our hand) as with a colpo di vilano or so-called Hildebrand’s cut. Then we pull the rear hand (that on the grip) forward (on the sword) and make a mordhau or hook and throw with the hilt.
Martin Siber left us a line:
Sichstus venster offen stan Si hinein gee dar von
If the window lays open Go in from there
Which is alluded to by Leckuchner as well in a play from the Bastei. Whether this is the same Fenster, who knows. It’s of course possible that this refers to a general opening.
Lastly the one everyone should know is sprechfenster/brechfenster. I’m going to completely refrain from providing any theories about a connection to those techniques. You can figure it out.
I find thrusting in through the short edge window particularly effective – when people try to parry it, they often carry their point offline without moving the hilt aside, leaving the precise opening my attack is entering through. Durchwechseln into this opening (as indicated in 3227a) is a great way to attack someone in longpoint.
Here’s two of my students from a few months ago. Note where the blade is passing.
“You don’t rise to the occasion, you sink to the level of your training.”
Train the way you fight, fight the way you train. Above is a demonstration to a class, below the application during a bout.
Ilkka and Hannu Hartikainen demonstrating, Ilkka Hartikainen and Axel Petterson fencing.
hema gasm
Oh cool! I actually just practiced this this week! It’s a really fun technique.
This is feinting.
Often when people think of a “feint” they imagine someone jerking one way then suddenly changing direction to fake out their opponent. That does happen sometimes but it’s slow, wastes energy, and it’s not something a trained fighter is likely to do unless they’re attempting the equivalent of yelling “boo!” with a sword.
In this the attacker makes a diagonal, downward strike and nearly completes the attack, drawing the opponent’s bladeto defend against what appears to be a clear strike towards the head, but before the defender’s parry can make contact, the attacker turns their wrist to redirect the energy of the swing to go around and continue at the now open space on the other side of the target’s head.
A good feint will look like a regular attack until the moment it changes directions.
In this case the attacker is using two feints, one on each side, before hitting his target.
Variations include a feint that comes over the defender’s sword to attack on the same side as the original swing. Feints can rely on ‘training’ your opponent to expect or not expect the move by creating a pattern in your attack, then breaking it. Sometimes feints can be dangerous if your opponent tries to counter attack instead of preparing to block again, which is why you may want to judge your opponent’s likely reactions first.
One of the fun things about practicing this, was that when I was the target and the feint was done well, even though I knew what the drill was and knew it was going to happen, I still felt robbed and swindled every time the attacker’s blade danced away from my scripted parry to come around and hit me in the mask.
What makes a sword a sword? Is it its shape? No, this can’t be, because sword shapes – cruciform, crescent, etc – lengths, and styles vary greatly, by both time and space. Is it based on lack of projectiles? Maces, clubs, axes, and spears don’t shoot projectiles, but no one would call them a sword. What does a 17th century rapier have in common with a Roman gladius? What does an Iberian montante have in common with the arming sword featured in the I.33 manuscript?
What do they all have in common? Swords, quite simply are long, bladed weapons, often (though not always) with a point, designed to kill. There are a few ways swords can do this in the hands of their wielders, but the two most common ways are via cutting – using the sword to hew – and thrusting. The medieval longsword, used in Europe from about 1300-1500, has the best of both worlds in that it is a weapon designed to be able to both optimally cut and thrust an opponent.
In Cutting with the Medieval Sword, Mike Edelson pulls off the remarkable feat of getting at the very heart of what makes using a sword an art (as opposed to a sport), and does so in a way that is accessible to everyone – from those who have never picked up a sword in their life, to practitioners with years of experience.
Make no mistake – this is not a book for sport fencers; this is a book for those who wish to start or continue learning how to use a sword as it was used historically and martially – to maim or kill your opponent.
Assuming that your interest in HEMA and swordsmanship is at least partly martial, however, you will find this book an invaluable resource. The information is presented in a straight-forward, easy-to-understand manner, with copious illustrations and analogies that can be absorbed by everyone – even me, and I’m a notoriously slow learner when it comes to swords. There’s no need to be familiar with middle-high German, Italian, or Latin; when excerpts from manuals are included here, they have been translated (via the wonderfully talented Cory Winslow).
***
The book is divided into theoretical, practice, and calibration sections, which I will address individually:
Theoretical — This part can (and perhaps should) be a textbook used in all HEMA classes. It addresses all the concepts one should know when it comes to cutting with a sword (and there’s also a bit about thrusting, as well), and the appropriate body mechanics to make it work. Although the section is intended as a reference and does not have to be read chronologically, I’d still recommend everyone read it and then, for newer students especially, come back to it as terms and ideas become more familiar.
Personally, I was surprised to lear about the importance of regulating one’s breathing – I don’t usually remember to breathe when fencing or cutting, but here Edelson has explained in detail why exhaling with the strike is extremely important.
In fact, with all concepts here, Edelson has found a way to explain not just why a certain concept is important, but how it relates to cutting as a whole – for example things such as grip and stopping the sword may seem to be minor details, but a poor grip or inability to stop the sword at the appropriate point can be the difference between a successful and unsuccessful cut.
Practice — Contrary to popular belief, you don’t need a sharp sword to practice (although you certainly can), but a blunt or feder capable of producing good sword wind can often get the job done – details as to how to choose a good blunt are in the text. Cutting practice doesn’t refer to cutting tatami or water bottles (that’s calibration), but to the thousands and thousands of cuts one should practice in the air at home. The tl;dr here is that you want to make sure you’re training to cut through your target, and if you only ever practice against a calibration medium, you’ll just train yourself to cut and only cut that medium.
There are a wealth of drills in the practice section, many familiar to me as I train with the NYC branch of Edelson’s club, but some entirely new, and they are divided into foundational and core drills. Foundational drills are designed to get you the basic movements and skill sets; core drills further refine these and should become a regular part of your practice. Some the drills need a partner, but may can be performed solo, and some need only a wooden dowel to be performed.
Those new to HEMA or longsword instruction will likely find many of these drills helpful to do with their class, adjusting as appropriate to the experience level of their students.
Calibration – This is the section that deals with sharps and feedback materials.
First, Edelson goes into detail as to how to choose an appropriate sharp sword for one’s size – personally, I use an Albion Count and have just received an Albion Crecy – as well as what manufacturers to choose from. The adage “you get what you pay for” is especially true here; your Renaissance fair wall hanger is probably not going to get the job done.
Edelson then goes on to describe how to properly sharpen your sword; although instructional videos exist (the links are provided), this is an activity that should absolutely be done under supervision for newer students, and practice on kitchen knives or other swords you don’t care about first is recommended. That said, more experienced students will delight in the interview with Peter Johnsson provided here, which was a pleasant surprise for myself.
As for feedback materials, tatami is the best material currently available for test cutting based on factors of cost, weight, and diagnostic ability (ie, the ability to understand what you did right or wrong when you cut it). Edelson also addresses the positives and negatives of cutting clay, water bottles, pool noodles, and newspapers – tl;dr, if you can’t get tatami, clay is probably your next best cutting medium but there are some serious drawbacks.
Edelson goes into great detail explaining how to prepare tatami, including where to order it, what tatami to get (new vs old), how to roll and soak it, and what your cutting stand should look like. For newer students, learning how to spike tatami is also an important skill – mats spiked incorrectly can be artificially hard to cut. This is followed by suggestion patterns and diagnostics, so that you will be able to see what you did wrong.
This ends with a section on cleaning and repairing your sword; the short version is that except for routine cleaning and the most superficial nicks, repairs should be handled by professionals – which is one reason vendors such as Albion are so highly rated, as they provide this service.
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While many of us participate in the competitive side of HEMA as a sport, it behoves us to always remember that ultimately what we are studying is a martial art. As a community, we have come a long way in the last ten years – from having a surfeit of feders and sharps to choose from, to having multiple vendors offering HEMA-specific protective gear – and this book should be included in the lexicon of game-changers.
HEMA is awash in primary sources, which is amazing, but there has been a gap in texts concerned with cutting, as opposed to set plays and techniques, and appropriate sword care. This fills that gap, and should be a recommended text for those in the community for years to come.
Cutting with the Medieval Sword goes on sale Tuesday 21 November.