"The exercising of weapons putteth away aches, griefs, and diseases, it increaseth strength and sharpeneth the wits, it giveth a perfect judgment, it expelleth melancholy, choleric, and evil conceits, it keepeth a man in breath, in perfect healthe, and long life." – George Silver (1599)

The “Case” of Two Swords
from School of the Sword


The use of two swords simultaneously has always attracted interest. It is a difficult and interesting style to interpret and has oft been misunderstood. Often the term “case of rapiers” is used, this appears to come from Giacomo DiGrassi’s “True Arte of Defence” (London 1594), however it needs to be borne in mind that this is an anglicised version of the original 1570 text and the translator (the enigmatic I.G) has simply substituted the more fashionable word “rapier” for  spada in the original text (it should also be noted that the illustrations in the original Italian edition are somewhat superior).

In all the references from c1530 to c1640 that I have found, Marozzo, Agrippa, DiGrassi, Lovino, Heredia, Sutor,and Swetnam ALL contain some reference or mention of two swords or a case of swords/rapiers.
 
I have also often seen practitioners state that this style only works for thrusting weapons or that the weapons are used together, simultaneously attacking or defending with both.

“It is most manifest that both these weapons may strike in one and the same time: for there may be delivered joyntly together two downright edge blows on high, and two beneath: two reverses and two thrustes,” says Giacomo Di Grassi before going onto to say those that rely on this are deceived as it is more important that one first looks to one’s defence with one weapon before thinking of attacking with the other.

Both DiGrassi and Sutor also go to some length to point out that before attempting this style one had to be well practiced in using the single weapon, IN EITHER HAND. If one could not defend oneself with either hand then one should not attempt to use both at the same time. So whilst describing how one MAY practice this style, both really recommend against it.

If you take the list of treatises that I mentioned ,you’ll find that Marozzo, Agrippa, and DiGrassi all show a “Cut and Thrust” style (albeit in different ways). DiGrassi (in translation) also talks of “downright edge blows”. Lovino talks about “showing to BLOW VIOLENTLY” and I can’t remember the direct translation of Sutor’s one page on the subject but it does focus more on cuts than thrusts though!

From these sources, the masters seem to suggest the use of both blow and thrust, with the emphasis on the blow. From my own experiments at the style I tend to agree, specifically DiGrassi’s method of holding the “rear” weapon high, lends itself to the cut or possibly an imbrocatta . the body also pivots nicely if one arm cuts the other is forced back to assume the high warding position. Strangely, Achille Marozzo (who is also a Spada di Lato man) favours a low guard with both weapons, which favours a variety of thrusts (Agrippa actually shows both).A final thought. If this style really favoured a thrust only use, then why do the later, more thrust orientated masters, like Capo Ferro, Fabris or Alfieri not show it, when the earlier cut and thrust masters do?

Here are some plates from Alfieri that show rapier and dagger techniques.

“One of my teachers could not open his mouth without generalising… He was a great practitioner and fighter. But all of his students were nothing compared to him. I first started learning something from him when I stopped listening to what he said.”

Bao

The Hagakure, a handbook of conduct from the twilight days of the Samurai caste, sometimes gets taken too seriously. My favorite passage is this account of a bloody brawl’s aftermath:

Gorobei’s wounds were numerous. Although he stopped the bleeding, he died on account of drinking some water. Dohaku’s wife suffered some severed fingers. Dohaku’s wound was a severed neck bone, and since only his throat remained intact, his head hung down in front. Now boosting his head up with his own hands, Dohaku went off to the surgeon ’s.


The surgeon’s treatment was like this: First he rubbed a mixture of pine resin and oil on Dohaku’s jaw and bound it in cloth. He then attached a rope to the top of his head and tied it to a beam, sewed the open wound shut, and buried his body in rice so that he would not be able to move.


Dohaku never lost consciousness nor did he change from his everyday attitude, nor did he even drink ginseng. It is said that only on the third day when there was a hemorrhage did he use a little medicinal stimulant. In the end the bones mended, and he recovered without incident.

Wow!! Next time I sprain a finger sparring, you won’t hear a peep out of me.

Full Text

The animation is awesome in this but since when did every ronin learn how to breakdance?

This 1977 movie by Ridley Scott, adapting a Joseph Conrad story, is about two ornery soldiers who keep risking their lives to right a petty slight to their honor. It’s great.

Beautiful, valiant, generous and superbly unchaste…
- Cameron Rogers

She was born in 1670, in the gay and vicious France of the ancien regime, and her given name is not known. Her father, Monsieur d’Aubigny, secretary to the Comte d’Armagnae, was a dashing fellow, known to be “as brave as steel” – it was said he feared neither God, man, nor the devil, and was equally adept with cards, women, and the sword.

She was described as tall and athletic, with blue eyes, dark auburn hair, very white skin, and “perfect” breasts, and had a beautiful singing voice. At 14 or 15 she seduced her father’s employer, the count, and through him was introduced to Paris society and the royal court.

Later she ran off with a fencing master, Serranes, whose swordplay was more to her liking. She then became a professional contralto singer at the music academy of Pierre Gaultier.

At the Opera she noticed a pretty blonde and seduced her. When her parents shipped the girl off to a convert, La Maupin joined the convent herself to continue the relationship. After an older nun died, La Maupin set her room on fire and escaped with the girl. A few months later she sent the girl home. For this, the Parliament of Aix published an edict condemning her to be burnt at the stake. This was later commuted by the king, who said he could not see turning someone so talented, lovely and wanton to ashes.

Soon thereafter she had a duel with D’Albert, whom she stabbed through. She took a liking to him however, and they began a long-term, off-and-on relationship.

Next she took up with singer Gabriel-Vincent Thevenard. She debuted in the Paris Opera in 1691 as Pallas Athena in Cadmus et Hermione and was lauded as the most beautiful woman in the company.

La Maupin frequently dressed as a man (to better woo the ladies). While attended a ball at the Palais Royal hosted by the king’s brother, she took it upon herself to kiss and attractive marquise, whereupon the ladies 3 suitors demanded she leave. She agreed, as long as they all faced her on the street outside. She defeated them all easily.

Her affairs next too her to Brussels where she became the pampered mistress of Maximilian Emanuel, the Elector of Bavaria. After a year, he switched his affections to a countess and tried to pay Maupin off with 40,000 francs, which she threw in the count’s face. After travels in Spain, where she worked as a chambermaid, she returned to the Paris Opera in 1698 and was reunited with d’Albert.

There are different versions of the rest of her life. One is that she settled down with d’Albert and lived happily ever after. Another is that d’Albert went to prison for killing a man in a duel, got out and married the Mademoiselle de Montigny, leaving La Maupin to swear off men and enter a convent where she soon (presumably bored) died at 37.