It has been my privilege to be a member of ARMA since August ‘03, and I find the exchange of ideas and information through the ARMA e-list and Forums to be stimulating. Over the past year, through multiple topic threads, I have noted a recurring idea, often tossed out casually and always left unexamined. The author will say something like “…I don’t know why I’m attracted to Swordsmanship…” or “...why I am fascinated with swords…”

Why, I asked myself, do people who come to ARMA seeking answers to tough questions find themselves at a loss to explain this common fascination with the sword?

While pondering this question, I recalled Hank Reinhart’s ARMA article, There is No “Best Sword” in which he described a cup-hilt rapier as being "romantic as hell". This unvarnished sentiment serves to remind us that while mysticism and spirituality are not part of the HEMA tradition, romance definitely is. Romance is the unarticulated “it” factor, why we all find swords and swordsmanship so enthralling.

Webster’s 1828 Dictionary defines this form of romance as “…subjects interesting the sensibilities of the heart, or the passions of wonder and curiosity. …” Could the connection between genuine romance and the sword be made any plainer than this? Sensibilities- passion- wonder- curiosity- it’s that simple.

So why do we sometimes feel more comfortable ignoring this idea of romance?

Whether it makes you think of chocolates and flowers as instruments of diplomacy or those soft-porn historical novels popularly referred to as “bodice-rippers,” the word romance has not aged well. The current Webster’s dictionary defines romance as “an emotional attraction or aura belonging to an especially heroic era, adventure, or activity”. That higher sense of romance as originally defined by Webster has been relegated to a paltry third place and reduced to an emotion. This modern concept may tempt one to see romance as a detriment to genuine martial spirit or as a slippery slope to mysticism.

Much of the sword’s romance is rooted in the very martial effectiveness that ARMA strives to promote. The sword is both elegant and devastating, graceful and brutal. The concept of dancing as a sword-fighting metaphor is probably as old as the sword itself. An ancient Celtic adage once warned “never give a sword to a man who can’t dance”. The Renaissance masters were no less insistent on the importance of good footwork in every type of swordsmanship.

When I think back to the first time I saw videos demonstrating longsword technique, I can recall the thrill of realizing that I was seeing genuine swordfighting, rather than seeing people using the sword as a glorified club. This had the ring of truth! The joyous moment of revelation, the keen desire to learn more- this is the romantic call of the sword that we have all felt. The sword beckons to us from across the ages, urging us to become more than we are now. That’s romantic as hell!

It may be tempting to question romance as an impulse for the warriors of history, but there are clear examples that go beyond the romance of legend, song and art. For one, we all speak in the romantic metaphors of the craft: of Ox and Plow, of Falcon Guard and Iron Door, of Hawks and Cock-steps. These fanciful terms still retain their appeal five hundred years after the fighting techniques passed beyond martial usefulness. The images they create may also serve a mnemonic purpose, but who can deny their romance?

Then there is the tradition of naming swords. This tradition is the most personal expression of the romance of the sword, and one of my favorites. Not everyone is inclined to write poetry or sing of the glories of our martial heritage, but anyone who owns a sword can take part in this time-honored practice.

Charlemagne had Joyeuse; King Arthur had Excalibur; Beowulf had Naegling; El Cid had Tizona and Colada. These names still resonate with romance and significance, yet sound downright prosaic in translation. “Ex-chalyb[d]-ur” simply means, “that which is [made] from steel” in Latin. “Naegl-ing” means “son of the nail” in Old English. The literal translation of Tizona is “charcoal” or “fire-brand”; Colada means, “strained” in Spanish. Such directness is almost disappointing on its face, but then comes the surprise:

“Joyous in battle!”

“I strained the life out of him…”

“Nailing my foes to the ground…”

Surely there must have been an element of wordplay in the naming of these swords that was lost to succeeding generations. The fiery heart of the warrior felt no shame in attributing persona to a close companion. That’s romantic as hell!

Here is where the imagination and romance take over. One could choose an exotic-sounding ancient word – Waelband, for example, refers to a “swath of destruction” in Old English (which is always a good thing to leave in your wake!). Nemesis was the Gods' agent of righteous retribution in Greek mythology. There is the wealth of a thousand years of European linguistic nuance to draw upon for inspiration. Even names taken from English can have a certain impact – Darksbane, Nightfall, Steadfast, Fear (“Striking Fear into the heart of my enemies...”).

My sword is named Flambard. Oddly, I had never heard this word used as a synonym for a flamberge blade before I joined ARMA. I originally chose this name for my sword simply because I liked the way it sounds.

Long after I named my sword, I had the good fortune to discover how the outwardly prosaic can be imbued with compelling meaning. My curiosity finally got the better of me, and I headed to the library to see what I could learn about this word. On the one hand, I learned that flambard could translate in Latin as a derivative of flamb-ardens: literally, a “hard-flame”, a burning coal or ember (shades of Tizona!). Ardens became our English word ‘ardent’, which entails the concepts of fervor, zeal, passion and devotion- very much in keeping with the ideals of swordsmanship.

The romance really came to life for me when I found an older Latin dictionary that also defined ‘flambardus’ as a term referring to Celtic war-songs sung by bards around the fire. Now that’s romantic as hell.

Those who might still argue that there is no place for romance in HEMA would do well to remember the very premise of ARMA: the pursuit and rediscovery of a centuries-old military art having no practical modern application or inherent commercial value. That’s romantic as hell! So is ARMA's dedication to an ideal of martial effectiveness and developing self-discipline through these pursuits. ARMA’s ultimate purpose may be rightly described as a quest, which is universally recognized as a romantic endeavor.

One of the publicly stated purposes of ARMA is to “Examine historical European martial culture within a broader historiographic context.” Romance in all its forms is a legitimate element of this broader context. In this spirit I would encourage everyone to seek out the full panoply of the romance of the sword, to enrich your study of historic swordsmanship.

Bob Ferdinand
ARMA Associate Member
Minneapolis, MN

Bob Ferdinand (rferdinand@mn.rr.com) is a hopeless romantic who lives in a Minneapolis suburb with his wife, three children, an Irish wolfhound and seven cats, but only one sword (so far). He has been studying Medieval History & Culture for thirty years.