Fencing With the Smallsword

Preface

Having been enthralled by sword fights I had seen in films, I was excited to discover that fencing was available as a sporting option on a Wednesday afternoon when, back in 1967, I enrolled on a science course at the local technical college, so I joined the class straight away. A little later I started attending an evening class in fencing where we were taught by Alan Wolsoncroft, a British Academy of Fencing instructor, who had learned his teaching skills from Bob Anderson, the former national coach who later arranged many fight sequences for films.

Starting with the foil, we spent the first year learning the thrusts and parries in class lessons, and after that we were allowed to fence against each other. I, and some of my sparring partners, passed the Amateur Fencing Association's bronze and silver foil proficiency tests and, as time went by, we did the same with the épée and sabre.

In 1996, the local council axed the evening classes and we formed our own club, Salle Poisson d'Or, so we could continue to fence on a regular basis. The name of the club alludes to the fact that Alan often complained we had the memories of goldfish when it came to remembering what he taught us! While some fencers were interested in competing, others, myself included, simply enjoyed fencing each other at the club. After a while, Salle Poisson d'Or merged with the Ranmore fencing club but retained its name. The club prospered until the Covid-19 outbreak in 2020, when we reluctantly disbanded it due to diminishing numbers and the fact that Alan, now in his mid-80s, wanted to retire from teaching.

Not wishing to give up fencing, I went along to another local club that seemed to be thriving. Here, I was not only the oldest fencer but also the only one who could fence with all three weapons. When it came to foil, one of the coaches informed me that I was practising classical fencing, which I had never heard of, and he said they didn't teach it like that anymore (I had already worked that out). Even my traditional hold on the French grip was viewed as an oddity: the few who were using French grips were taught to hold them near the pommel. With my traditional training, I saw their efforts as uncontrolled and imprecise, and it was hard to picture where the moves they were making might appear as recommendations in any fencing manual. Their sword arms were not being straightened at the onset of attacks, which explained why nobody was attempting compound attacks. Counter-parries were seen extremely rarely, and one of the coaches didn't even know what a counter-parry was. In spite of all this, the club members were progressing through their proficiency tests and doing well in competitions, which is clearly the main objective of a modern sports fencing club.

When attacking, a straight arm, with the hand raised above the shoulder, is advisable because it keeps the body at a safe distance and keeps one guarded against the opponent's lethal point - it is plain good swordsmanship and was recommended by all the old masters. Originally, the rules for competitions were devised to encourage good swordsmanship. The attacker was defined as the first fencer to straighten the sword arm with the point threatening the target, and this fencer would be awarded a point in the event of both parties hitting at the same time, as the opponent must have made a reckless move instead of defending himself. Now, however, the rules are not being interpreted in the old way, and other movements made by a fencer may be considered to identify him as the attacker. Very likely this change happened because so many fencers were turning up at competitions without having the knowledge or the discipline to fence properly - nobody was straightening the sword arm when attacking, which meant that in the event of a double hit, both hits would have to be annulled, as it would be impossible to identify an attacker. These days it is not unusual for the referee to consult a video play-back to determine which fencer had right of way and could be awarded a point - the crazy thing being that, in a real sword fight, both swordsmen would be injured or dead.

A good swordsman will use a simple parry to deflect the attacking blade so that it clears his body by a few inches. This is no longer being taught to foilists because of the way the rules are now interpreted. The rules say that right of way passes to the defender once a parry has been taken, but often not much more than a contact of blades is deemed acceptable as a parry, so incomplete parries have become the norm and the defender is at risk of being hit even though his riposte will be given priority.

Getting in close and jabbing to and fro with the sword arm is sometimes seen. This is very bad fencing, but it has been around for a long time. Alfred Hutton in his book The Swordsman, published in the late nineteenth century, writes:

. a stabbing stroke like that of a poniard is a vicious habit to which some people are much addicted, and one which any student of fence, who desires to achieve a reputation as a swordsman, must scrupulously avoid . it is in reality the last resource of a hopelessly bad swordsman to score a hit which he is unable to effect by more legitimate means. There is but one sensible way of treating a man who persists in using this style of attack, and that is to refuse flatly to fence with him at all.

It seems to me that modern competitive fencing has drifted too far from its duelling origins. It has morphed into a game aimed at maximising the points scored while taking into account the way the rules are interpreted. That doesn't really matter to those who are only interested in who can score the most points, but it does to anyone who is interested in the art of fencing itself. One major contributor to this state of affairs has been the introduction of electric scoring equipment that can separate hits that arrive as close as one twenty-fifth of a second apart. This has encouraged fencers to become more athletic so they can use speed and agility to land a hit fractionally before they get hit themselves, which is not something any sane duellist would try to do. Fencers are now referred to as athletes - athletics has replaced swordplay and the art of fencing is getting lost.

Another issue with electric scoring, particularly with foil, is that a hit can be scored with a very light touch that would not be enough to stop a sword fight. Before the use of electric equipment, hits had to have 'character of penetration' - there had to be at least a slight bend in the blade, making it appear that, had it been sharp, it would have penetrated about three inches.

There is a difference between being a good fighter and a good fencer. Some people who are good at scoring hits are not actually very good fencers. They often have a limited repertoire of actions at their disposal, and those they do use are executed badly. Those who can score the hits are always lauded as being good fencers, but in my view, fencing is about what goes on between the hits, and the best fencers are those who manage to keep a sequence of thrusts and parries going for some time before a hit is scored to spoil the fun. Modern sports fencing favours the fighter rather than the fencer. Training to score the most hits, taking into account the way the rules are interpreted, is now quite different from training to stay uninjured in a sword fight.

Sports fencing weapons all differ in some respects from the real swords they are derived from. No sword ever had the orthopaedic or pistol grip, which is now ubiquitous but was originally designed for people with weak wrists. The foil was originally a practice weapon for the smallsword, but modern foils are longer and some blades are springy enough to flick and deliver a hit on the opponent's back. This would not be possible with real swords, as they are just not that flexible.

The épée is a development of the épée de combat, the latest duelling sword, but this didn't have a large offset guard and it was used at a time when duels were being fought for first blood - body hits were deliberately avoided because the consequences of seriously wounding or killing an opponent were too dire.

In the early days of sabre fencing, the legs were a valid target - obviously they had to be well padded. When fighting with real sabres, cutting through the hamstrings was a favourite ploy, as it put the opponent out of action straight away. For reasons of safety, the sabre now has an unrealistically thin and extremely manoeuvrable blade, so it doesn't handle anything like a real sabre, and now that electric scoring equipment is used, touches with the flat of the blade also count as valid hits.

While I was pondering the demise of the art of swordsmanship, I discovered that Historical European Martial Arts (HEMA) clubs were using smallswords in a way that more closely resembled the duelling situation, and I was hooked on this weapon. Initial attempts at smallsword fencing turned out more like brawling in a pub car park, but after studying some of the available books on the subject and practising the lessons described therein, it started to look more civilised. It was a welcome antidote to sports fencing, and it was a lot of fun.

This book began when I transcribed exercises that I found in the old (French school) manuals for myself and my sparring partners to practise. Much to my surprise, many of these were very similar to the exercises that Alan used to have us run through in class lessons when I first learned to fence. I gradually...