I have no experience with either so if anyone has I’d love to hear about it.

As a note about Shaolin, that is really just a place – what the monks “were” were Ch’an Buddhists, and Ch’an Buddhism is more commonly known as Zen Buddhism. All of the stories in the Rinzai Zen Mumonkan (http://c-pan.net/zen-mumonkan.html) are in China. This too little known connection enriches both Zen and Shaolin and their current.

Achilles glared at him and answered, “Fool, prate not to me about covenants. There can be no covenants between men and lions, wolves and lambs can never be of one mind, but hate each other out and out an through. Therefore there can be no understanding between you and me, nor may there be any covenants between us, till one or other shall fall and glut grim Mars with his life’s blood. Put forth all your strength; you have need now to prove yourself indeed a bold soldier and man of war. You have no more chance, and Pallas Minerva will forthwith vanquish you by my spear: you shall now pay me in full for the grief you have caused me on account of my comrades whom you have killed in battle.”

http://classics.mit.edu/Homer/iliad.22.xxii.html
An interesting note is that Achilles is helped (cheats? no such thing) by Minerva who gives him a second spear, with which he overcomes the swordbearing Hector.

At 23 he left his apprenticeship as a tobacco spinner for the army and adventure. After a few years another soldier started appropriating McBane’s pay whereupon McBane challenged him for redress. After an initial rout where his broadsword wielding opponent knocked McBane’s sword from his hand, beat him and pawned his sword, McBane took additional lessons on the smallsword versus the broadsword. Next time McBane skewered him through and kept studying until he was his master’s top student.

More battles, injuries, and duels over trifles continued. McBane continied studying the swordin Dublin under a French master. Laster in Belgium he was forced to fight and win 24 bouts with the locale’s establishd master’s to teach in peace.

Soon enough McBane discovered some of his fellow swordsmen were sidelining in prositution and gambling and he

resolved to have a share of that Gain, or at least to have a fair Tryall for it. I Fought all the four, one by one: the last of them was Left-handed; he and I went to the Rampart where we searched one another for Fire Arms. Finding none, we drew and had two or three clean Turns: at last he put up his Hand and took a Pistol from the Cock of his Hat; he cocked it against his shoulder and presented it to me, upon which I asked Quarters, but he refused, calling me an “English Bouger,” and Fired at me and run for it. One of the balls Went through my Cravat. I thinking I was shot did not Run as I was wont to do, but run as I could after him, crying for the Guard … at last I overtook him…and gave him a thrust in the buttocks …. [I] call’d for his Commerads that same Night, who agreed to give me a Brace of Whoors, and Two Petty Couns a Week. With this and my School I lived very well for that Winter.

Next he participated in the War of Spanish Succession, the first real pan-Euro war. More misadventures and brawls following. At the Battlen of Blenheim on August 13, 1704 McBane was show 4 times, received 5 bayonet wounds and was left for dead on the fiel. At night plundering Dutch (allied) troops clubbed him for his clothes and left him “expecting Death every minute, not only by reason of Wounds, but by reason of the old and the great Thirst that I had, I drank several handfuls of the Dead Mens Blood I lay beside, the more I Drank the worse I was.”

He recovered.

In 1707, he fought a man over a woman and

He challenged me immediately to Answer him, so we went out to the back of an old Trench where he shewed me Five Graves which
he had filled, and told me I should be the Sixth, (we had a great many Spectators both Dutch and English) if I would not yield him the Lady, for shame I could not but Fight him, he drew his Sword, and with it drew a Line,saying, that should be my Grave; I told him it was too short for me, likewise I did not love to ly wet at Night,
but said it would fit him better; we fell to it, he advanced upon me so I was obliged to give Way a little, I bound his Sword and made a half Thrust at his Breast, he Timed” me and wounded me in the Mouth; we took another turn, I took a little better care, and gave him a Thrust in the body, which made him very angry; he came upon me very boldly, some of the Spectators cryed stand your Ground, I wished them in my Place, then I gave him a Thrust in the Belly, he then darted [threw] his Sword at me, I Parried it, he went and lay down on his Coat and spake none…. His Commerads were glad he was off the Stage, for he was very troublesome.

Later when a quartermaster took 10 crowns and some earrings off of one of McBane’s girls, McBane challenged from to battle, but could not avail, as he recounted

Then we took a Turn … but I could make nothing of him, so we took Breath a little, and fell to it again and Closed one another, and secured one another’s Swords, but none of us
could get Advantage of another; we had Five such Turns, but could make nothing of it, we were Four or Five Times through [each] others Shirts, but could not draw Blood.

The quartermaster was an Irish fencing master who then returned the earrings and “As for the Money we agreed to Drink it and let the Whore work for more.”

At the siege of a citadel near Tournai, McBane was put in charge of 6 cannon and 16 men. When the French fired their own cannon and

With one Shot they Killed Forty-eight Men, I Escaped the Shot, but one of the Heads of the Men that was Shot, knocked me down, and all his Brains came round my Head, I being half Senseless put up my Hand to my Head, and finding the Brains, cryed to my Neighbour that all my Brains were knock’d out; he said were your Brains out you could not speak.

At the end of his career in the military, he returned to England, took up a new wife and ran a school and alehouse in London. Debuting at 50, he fought 37 times at the Bear Garden with the backsword.

The last notable battle was in 1726 in Edinburgh when an Irish swordsman, Andrew O’Byran arrived in town and challenging all comers. The Duke of Hamilton and Duke of Argyle sent for McBane and asked him to take it up if he thought himself able. McBane responded by taking up a claymore and swinging it whistling through the air.

The bout was staged in St. Anne’s Yards at the back of the palace with McBane as the victor, who “gave him Seven Wounds, and broke his Arm with the Falchion, this I did at the Request of several Noblemen and Gentlemen. But not being Sixty-three Years of Age, resolves never to Fight any more, but to Repent for my Wickedness.”

From McBane’s book:

“‘Tis less Dangerous to Retire, than to Advance upon your Adversary, and not at all Scandalous, for you may Time him every time he advances, and so get the better, by Disabling his Sword Arm, Hand or Wrist.”

“Command your Temper and you will do much better, than if you give way to your Passion; and if you do Command it, and are Engaged with a Person who can not, you will have very much the Advantage of him, for his Passion will make him Play wild and wide, and consequently exposes himself to be Hit very often, wheras your thoughts not being in Hurry and Confusion, you may Defend your self with ease and judgement, and take an Advantage readily when ever you have a mind, you are the more capable of doing this, because your Strength, Mind and Spirit are not Spent or Exhausted.”

Info from Kircher’s very good The Deadliest Men.

Born in 1815 near Port Mehon on Menorca in Spain’s Balearic he sailed to the Artic and Africa until settling in New Orleans as a bouncer.

The New Orleans of the 1830s-1840s saw an average of a duel a day, sometimes up to ten, to the point where spectators commented that the grass under the Oaks should be stained red.

Many attended salles d’armes to better their chances on those streets of honor and violence and Llulla’s master, L’Alouette soon appointed Llulla as his assistant. Llulla was impeccable with the rapier, saber, broadsword, bowie knife, pistol or rifle, with his friends letting him shoot pipes out of their mouths.

Llulla (who succeeded L’Alouette in the school after publically beat him with wooden Bowie knives) took up a variety of business pursuits – a bar, grocery, slaughterhouses, cattle, real estate, flatboats, a sawmill, etc., until he built a fortune and bough the island of Grand Terre.

He engaged in duel some 20 to 30 times and acted as a second in more than 100 duels and generally met every other challenge perfectly, taking on European fencing masters, to assassins, sailors, mobs, foreign champions, etc., all without defeat. However, by the end of his life, he claimed only two men had died at his hands.

He died of natural causes on March 6, 1888. His grave is in St. Vincent de Paul Cemetery.

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.

In an age when there were no greater swordsmen on earth than the French, the greatest swordsman in France was an immigrant from Haiti.

When a 11 year old slight boy was offered a chance to resettle in France after Haiti’s 1795 insurrection, Jean-Louis took it and was enlisted in the 32d Regiment.

Sent to the local fencing school, sale d’armes, his devotion to the art (despite his youth and size) led to take his exam for maitre d’armes as the youngest candidate ever, in which he passed with honors.

One of his contemporaries described his style being such that he

omitted everything that was superfluous; the affected salutations, the counter-coups, the capricious pauses, all shocked him and appeared to him unworthy of such a serious art. One admires both his simple, natural, and well-becoming defense, and the development and rapidity of his attack, his sure judgment, his impassibility in the defensive, as also the regularity, even in the most unforeseen circumstances, of all his movements, which followed each other like the rings of a chain.

His most famous fencing feat came on the heels of drunken brawl of soldiers where the 1st Regiment battled the 32d, ending in arrests and injuries. To restore morale a council convened and decided that 15 fencing masters to a side would represent their units and fight duels.

The regiments were assembled in a hollow square on a plain outside Madrid. At its center was a natural elevation forming a platform where, two at a time, 30 champions would duel for the honor of 10,000 men. As the premier fencing master of the 32d Regiment, Jean-Louis was the first up. His opponent was Giacomo Ferrari, a celebrated Florentine swordsman and fencing master of the First Regiment.

Drums rolled. The troops were ordered to parade rest, and as they slammed down the butts of their muskets in unison, the earth shook. Jean-Louis and Giacomo Ferrari stepped onto the fencing strip, each stripped to the waist to show that they wore nothing that would turn a thrust. An expectant silence filled the air as every eye was fixed on the two masters. The traditional rivalry between Europe’s two theories of fencing, the French and the Italian, added a piquance to the duel. The French school was formalistic-movements were made according to rules, as quietly as possible, and following in logical sequence; even when fighting a duel, Frenchmen seemed to work together like a piece of fine machinery. The Italian style was looser, freer, less formal, and more individualistic-a bout between Italians resembled a furious struggle involving shouts, stamping of the feet, whirling about, and leaps forward and back. The French said that the Italian technique was more bruyant (rowdy) than brilliant, and decried it as inartistic and crude. The French were considered the world’s best fencers, but the Italians the deadliest duelists. The Frenchman was never free from the thought of the picture he presented, while the Italian was fixed on one thing-to kill. He would take a severe wound to deliver a fatal one.

The fencing masters crossed swords and the bout began. Ferrari took the offensive, but Jean-Louis followed all his flourishes with a calm but intense attention; every time Ferrari tried to strike, his sword met steel. With a loud cry Ferrari jumped to the side and attempted an attack from below, but Jean-Louis parried the thrust and with a lightning riposte wounded Ferrari in the shoulder. “It is nothing, start the fight again!” cried Ferrari, getting back to his feet. Jean-Louis’ next thrust struck home, and Ferrari fell dead.

Jean-Louis wiped the blood from his blade, resumed his first position, and waited. His battle had only begun. The victor in each bout was to continue until he was injured or killed, and
Jean-Louis still faced 14 swordsmen of the 1st Regiment, all of them eager to avenge their comrade.

Another adversary came at him. After a brief clash, Jean-Louis lunged and, while recovering, left his point in line. Rushing at him, his opponent was impaled. A second corpse lay at the French master’s feet.

His third opponent, a taller man, attacked fiercely, with jumps and feints, but Jean-Louis’ point disappeared into his chest, and he fell unconscious.

The next man approached. The regiments watched in fascinated silence. They were accustomed to the wholesale music of slaughter: the booming of artillery, the bursting of shells, the rattle of musketry, the clash of sabers. All are impressive, but none so keenly painful as the thin whisk of steel against steel as men engage in single combat. As one contemporary observer wrote, “it goes clean through the mind and makes the blood of the brain run cold.”

After 40 minutes only two Italian provosts were left awaiting their turn, pale but resolved. A truce was called, and the colonel of the 32d approached Jean-Louis.

“Maitre,” he said, “you have valiantly defended the regiment’s honor, and in the name of your comrades, and my name, I thank you sincerely. However, 13 consecutive duels have taken too much of your body stamina. Retire now, and if the provosts decide to finish the combat with their opponents, they will be free to do so.”

“No, no!” exploded Jean-Louis, “I shall not leave the post which has been assigned me by the confidence of the 32d Regiment. Here I shall remain, and here I shall fight as long as
I can hold my weapon.” As he finished his statement he made a flourish with his sword, which cut one of his friends on the leg. “Ah,” cried Jean-Louis, distraught, “there has only been one man of the 32d wounded today, and it had to be by me.”

Seizing upon the incident, the colonel said, “This is a warning; there has been enough blood. All have fought bravely and reparation has been made. Do you trust my judgment in the matter of honor?” After Jean-Louis said he did, the colonel said there was nothing more to do but extend a hand to the 1st Regiment. Pointing to the two provosts who still waited, he said to Jean-Louis, “They cannot come to you!”

Jean-Louis dropped his sword, approached the two Italians, and clasped them by the hands. His regiment cheered, “Vive Jean-Louis! Vive the 32d Regiment!”

Jean-Louis added, “Vive the First! We are but one family! Vive l’armee!”

– Kircher, Deadliest Men

Even after his retirement from the army after being awarded the highest order of the Legion of Honor and the Medaille de St. Helene, he continued to teach the sword, continuing even when cataracts made him blind. He died at 80 in 1865. The fencing academy he established in Montpellier in 1830 still exists, and his techniques form the basis of French instruction to this day.

From 2002

Iraqi Vice President Taha Yassin Ramadan Taha Yasin Ramadan al-Jizrawi Ramadan made the following remarks without giving any outward sign he was joking, although reporters who were present detected a note of irony in his voice.

“Bush wants to attack the whole (of) Iraq, the army and the infrastructure,” Ramadan said.

“The American president should specify a group, and we will specify a group and choose neutral ground, with Kofi Annan as referee, and use one weapon, with a president against a president, a vice president against a vice president, and a minister against a minister in a duel. In this way we are saving the American and the Iraqi people.”

http://www.lewrockwell.com/rockwell/dueling.html
http://archives.cnn.com/2002/WORLD/meast/10/03/iraq.bush.duel/

Back in the day, kings led charges and Alexander the Great was the first over the wall. Our modern commanders’ only sword is their pen and the only blood they risk is strangers’.