In both plays—in the highly refined, complicated and brilliant fence of the first-class “foil,” as well as in the simpler and more cautious operations of the practised duellist—the one golden rule remains, that one so quaintly expressed by M. Jourdain’s maître d’armes in Molière’s comedy: “Tout le secret des armes ne consiste qu’en deux choses, à donner et à ne point recevoir.”
The point most usually lost sight of by sanguine and self-reliant scorners of conventionalities is that, although with the sword it may be comparatively easy at any time “to give,” it is by no means easy to make sure of “giving without receiving.” The mutual simultaneous hit—the coup-double—is, in fact, the dread pitfall of all sword-play. For this reason, in courteous bouts, a hit has no real value, not only when it is actually cancelled by a counter, but when it is delivered in such a way as to admit of a counter. In short, the experience of ages and the careful consideration of probabilities have given birth to the various make-believes and restrictions that go to make sound foil-play. These restrictions are destined to act in the same direction as the warning presence of a sharp point instead of a button; and thus, as far as possible, to prevent those mutual hits—the contretemps of the old masters—which mar the greater number of assaults. The proper observance of those conventions, other things being equal, distinguishes the good from the indifferent swordsman, the man who uses his head from him who rushes blindly where angels fear to tread. So much for foil-play.
In modern sword-play, on the other hand, is seen the usual tendency of arts which have reached their climax of complication to return to comparative simplicity. With reference to actual duelling, it is a recognized thing that it would be the height of folly to attempt, sword in hand, the complex attacks, the full-length lunges, the neat but somewhat weak parries of the foil; so much so, that many have been led to assert that, for its ultimate practical purpose (which logically is that of duelling), the refined art of the foil, requiring so many years of assiduous and methodical work, is next to useless. It is alleged, as a proof, that many successful duellists have happened to be indifferent performers on the fencing floor. Some even maintain that a few weeks’ special work in that restricted—very restricted—play, which alone can be considered safe on the field of honour, will produce as good a practical swordsman as any who have walked the schools for years. Nothing can be further from the truth: were it but on the ground that the greater includes the less; that the foil-fencer of standing who can perform with ease and accuracy all the intricate movements of the assault, who has trained his hand and eye to the lightning speed of the well-handled foil, must logically prove more than a match for the more purely practical but less trained devotees of the épée de combat. The only difference for him in the two plays is that the latter is incomparably slower in action, simpler; that it demands above all things patience and caution; and especially that, instead of protecting his breast only, the épée fencer must beware of the wily attack, or the chance hit, at every part of his body, especially at his sword-hand.
The difference which still exists between the French and Italian schools of small-sword fence—by no means so wide, in point of theory, as popularly supposed—is mainly due to the dissimilarity of the weapons favoured by the two countries. The quillons, which are retained to this day in the Italian fioretto and spada, conduce to a freer use of wrist-play and a straight arm. The French, on the other hand, having long ago adopted the plain grip both for fleuret and épée, have come to rely more upon finger-play and a semi-bent arm. Both schools have long laid claims to an overwhelming superiority, on theoretical ground, over their rivals—claims which were unwarrantable. Indeed, of later days, especially since the evolution of a special “duelling play,” the two schools show a decided tendency, notwithstanding the difference in the grip of the weapons, towards a mutual assimilation of principles.
As a duelling weapon—as one, that is to say, the practice of which under the restrictive influence of conventions could become elaborated into an art—the sabre (see [Sabre-fencing]) returned to favour in some countries at the close of the Napoleonic wars. Considered from the historical point of view, the modern sabre, albeit now a very distant cousin of the small-sword, is as direct a descendant as the latter itself of the old cut-and-thrust rapier. It is curious, therefore, to note that, just as the practice of the “small” or thrusting sword gave rise to two rival schools, the French and the Italian, that of the sabre or cutting sword (it can hardly be called the broadsword, the blade, for the purposes of duelling play, having been reduced to slenderest proportions) became split up into two main systems, Italian and German. And further it is remarkable that the leading characteristics of the latter should still be, in a manner, “severity” and steadfastness; and that the former, the Italian, should rely, as of yore, specially upon agility and insidious cunning.
Concerning the latter-day evolution of that special and still more conventional system of fence, the Schläger or Hau-rapier play favoured by the German student, from that of the ancestral rapier, the curious will find a critical account in an article entitled “Schlägerei” which appeared in the Saturday Review, 5th of December 1885.
See also the separate articles on [Cane-Fencing] (canne); [Épée-de-Combat]; [Foil-Fencing]; [Sabre-Fencing]; and [Single-stick].
Authorities.—The bibliography of fencing is a copious subject; but it has been very completely dealt with in the following works: Bibliotheca dimicatoria, in the “Fencing, Boxing and Wrestling” volume of the Badminton library (Longmans); A Bibliography of Fencing and Duelling, by Carl A. Thimm (John Lane). For French works more especially: La Bibliographie de l’escrime, by Vigeant (Paris, Motteroz); and Ma Collection d’escrime, by the same (Paris, Quantin). For Italian books: Bibliografia generale della scherma, by Gelli (Firenza, Niccolai). For Spain and Portugal: Libros de esgrima españoles y portugueses, by Leguina (Madrid, Los Huérfanos). Both M. Vigeant’s and Cav. Gelli’s works deal with the subject generally; but their entries are only critical, or even tolerably accurate, in the case of books belonging to their own countries. Concerning the history of the art, Egerton Castle’s Schools and Masters of Fence (George Bell); Hutton’s The Sword and the Centuries (Grant Richards); and Letainturier-Fradin’s Les Joueurs d’épée à travers les âges (Paris, Flammarion) cover the ground, technically and ethically. As typical exponents of the French and Italian schools respectively may be mentioned here: La Théorie de l’escrime, by Prévost (Paris, de Brunhof) (this is the work which was adopted in the Badminton volume on Fencing), and Trattato teorico-pratico della scherma, by Parise (Rome, Voghera).
(E. Ca.)