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The Sword in DuelBy John Clements When you think of the word "duel" you immediately think of a
sword fight. Dueling and swordplay are intimately connected. As ritual
single combats, duels were fought with many weapons besides swords. But
it was in the challenge of fighting with matching blades to emerge
victorious by fencing prowess that the duel came to find its greatest
expression. To duel was more often than not to face another swordsman as
a swordsman. Because the sword was so closely associated with Medieval knighthood
and chivalry and, by extension, to the Renaissance courtier and
aristocratic cavalier, more than any other weapon it came to represent
justice, honor, and vengeance. As the sidearm of an officer or the
privilege of the gentleman it represented both warrior status and
personal martial skill. Perhaps because the sword permitted not only the
widest array of offensive and defensive close-combat techniques, but
allowed for display of finesse and courage as much as strength, it
provided the user a certain assurance. For these reasons, and because it
has so many different forms, it served in more duels than any other
weapon.
For centuries, the fight of double-edged arming-sword with a small
buckler or larger shield was preferred in all manner of chivalric and
judicial duels. Knightly challenges to feats of arms in the chansons and
tales were often described in terms of sword duels on foot. In time
these short swords were largely supplanted for dueling by a variety of
double-handed war-swords. The larger great-sword, the armor-piercing estoc,
assorted single-edged falchions, and later the saber (in both heavy
military and light civilian forms), were all popular choices at one time
or another. The various designs of slender military side-sword were a
common choice throughout the 16th century either on their own or more
often accompanied by dagger or buckler. Versions of these swords found
continual use in duels for the next two centuries. As larger military
swords fell out of use it's easy to understand how more compact
cut-and-thrust designs would become a common choice for dueling. It was in Renaissance Europe during the 16th and 17th centuries that the sword duel arguably reached its zenith with all manner of punctillios and cartellos. The ending of the feudal-era, the rise of larger cities, and the general banning of judicial combats by the late 1540s provoked a reaction. The abandonment as a legal means of publicly settling conflicts directly increased the popularity of its alternative. Quarrels over issues of honor and reputation would be settled by the parties themselves through their own means. In that environment, every gentleman or man-at-arms with such pretensions owned some form of sword. Typically, a man would fight a duel with his own personal sword, that being the same one he used in war and carried on his person, but at other times matching swords were pre-selected so that neither was longer or lighter than the other. By the 16th century, special pairs of identical swords, called a case or brace, were kept by neutral third-parties for this very reason. One cannot consider the sword in duel without examining its nature
and especially the role of the dueling culture in Western civilization.
Unquestionably, no sword in history is as closely associated with the
duel of honor as is that most unique of Renaissance weapons, the slender
foyning rapier. No other sword is as identifiable with the very idea of
the duelist. Though it came into being for urban street fights among
the working class (in an age when guns were becoming increasingly
formidable), within a few generations it was almost the exclusive focus
of fencing masters increasingly concerned with solving the intricacies
of its method in private duel. The evolution of both its blade and hilt
followed directly from this concern. Frequently employed with a matching
dagger and even a simple cloak, the eventual preference for gentlemen
duelists was to use it on its own. The finesse of a long narrow blade with a quick piercing reach was well
received by duelists and within a generation adopted as their preferred "go-to"
weapon. The danger of fighting unarmored with a slender thrusting sword, with
its blinding speed, deceptive reach, and particular angling of attack
meant that men –especially those still unfamiliar with such fencing–
were very easily wounded. It wasn't that the rapier was intrinsically
more lethal than the fearsome cleaving blows of wider cutting
blades, but that because puncturing stabs simply could not be treated in
the manner of slashes and cuts the death rate due to rapier duels
exploded. There are even notable examples of men seeking out a noted
fencing master for an upcoming judicial combat or before issuing a
challenge in hope of learning some secret technique or special move that
might give them advantage. The Baroque-era continued the dueling trend as French aristocratic
circles raised the formality and etiquette surrounding the sword duel to
a level never seen before even as firearms were now entirely dominating
warfare. Here the narrow small-sword, as court-sword or walking-sword,
earned preeminence among duelists over military cutlass and cavalry
saber. No other sword form developed so specifically for unarmored
civilian self-defense. Its very function served foremost for dueling
against another small-sword. Though seemingly "dainty", this shorter
thinner blade came on the scene as a less obtrusive personal weapon with
no necessity of encountering the diverse arms and armor of its older
Renaissance cousin. There are plenty of accounts of small-sword duels
being vicious and brutal exchanges devoid of propriety. But comportment
and deportment in a duelist was a product of the Age. While the average
Baroque swordsman might have no compunction whatsoever about coldly
piercing his adversaries chest with his point, striking a fellow
gentleman's face, grabbing his garments, or resorting to unarmed blows
and "vulgar" grappling would be viewed as unseemly and uncouth. While there are sporadic instances throughout history of single
combat challenges on the battlefield or in feats of arms as a means of
seeking valor, it was only within Western Europe that a true dueling
culture of swordsmanship found full expression. Both the ancient Greeks
and the Norse recognized occasions for individual challenges to settle
disagreements or accusations sword-to-sword and there are a few recorded
instances of samurai duels, such as those by the famous, Miyamoto
Musashi, in the 17th century. Yet, these took place as exceptions rather
than the rule. Roman gladiators, though usually engaged in single
combats, were not dueling because they very often fought against their
will or against others who did not freely enter the combat. More
importantly, they did not have personal grievance as their cause but
were fighting as spectacle or entertainment (not to mention that such
fights were not necessarily to the death or even to cause serious
injury). Singling out an opponent on the battlefield or being ordered
into the arena is not quite the same as willingly stepping out or
arranging ahead of time to specifically fight one on one without
interference. A sword duel is seldom viewed as an act of civility but that's
precisely what it was. All legal and theological arguments against it
aside, the duel served a means of settling conflicts while avoiding
direct homicide. There are no rules when fighting for your life, and
yet, that is exactly what a duel demanded: that in a fight you agree to a
certain set of prohibitions for how to start and how to finish. The
sword duel survived for so long because it provided an outlet. It
channeled natural violent impulses and directed unavoidable hostility by
permitting an acceptable manner of fighting that assured some degree of
fairness and honesty between the combatants. Just as importantly, it
allowed recognition of it among ones social peers. Honor among duelists
was about more than mere reputation or face saving; it was about
behavior, expectation, etiquette, masculine personae, and adherence to a
set of martial norms. The dueling culture was sword culture and there
were many who took delight in it. It's easy to romanticize sword duels as the manly means to prove
one's worth and reputation while ending private feud and avoiding
vendetta. But just as easily it could be abused, exploited, and produce
nothing but wasteful senseless death. From the record it would seem that
private duels of honor were rarely honorable and seldom private. Nonetheless, it's also easy to
recognize its appeal. If two men agreed to settle a matter between them
by consensual force of arms there was no better way than the honest
clash of steel. To accept such a challenge, to face it down and claim
victory through your own skill, whether the opponent was spared or
slain, was the surest way to defend a smear, insure the value of your
word, or earn renown outside of war. In that regard, the ability to
wield the sword matched with the willingness to use it over such matters
was seen as a sign of character. The paradox of the private duel was
that to earn repute or acquire notoriety, it could not be entirely
private, or else the victor might be construed as having intentionally
arrange a murder by ambuscade. Thus, at least some public witnesses or
neutral spectators were typically required. Avoiding the attention of
the authorities was the catch. In general, dueling was an extralegal
activity of the aristocracy and the state, though issuing numerous bans,
generally turned a blind eye if it were done discretely. Yet, sword duels could be impromptu affairs with nothing formally
declared and only the understanding that once blades were drawn no one
was going to interfere. There might not even be any explicit expression
of what outcome was expected until it was all over with either one or
possibly both parties wounded or slain. In many cases, the label of
"duel" seems to have been applied to such spontaneous fights after the
fact. To be sure, the formal duel was far less common than were simple
back alleys assaults and gang fights in empty piazzas and wooded paths.
To face off mono-a-mono, having selected one of a pair of equal blades,
and backed by your second, awaiting the command of a neutral third-party
before killing or being killed, was an experience reserved for a select
few. Many sword duels were fought only until the slightest blood was
shed and the aggrieved party satisfied –a result easily achievable by
swords in particular. But many more were expressively fought to the
death. Curiously, as Warfare in the West became more industrial, more
mechanized, and more lethal during the mid-to-late 19th century, Western
fencing became sportified. It transitioned into a safe athletic pastime
and recreational game at the same time the gun-culture entirely took
hold. But the sword duel for matters of personal honor persisted. A
longer and lighter dueling version of the épée' emerged strictly for
conducting such affairs as did a thinner and lighter "civilianized"
sabre. When clerks, lawyers, and journalists could find excuse over any
trivial minutia to "duel" in the park using featherweight weapons
employed in a manner to produce mere pinking wounds, things were reduced
to near farce. As the 20th century approached, sword duels had been
reduced to a highly regulated activity seldom offering any serious
danger to its participants and deaths by sword wound were a rarity.
Meanwhile, the contrived rituals of 19th century German university
"dueling" clubs with their non-lethal blades, diluted their formalized
bouts down to an artificial scar-inducing fetish serving as little more
than "extreme fraternity hazing." It took the horrors of the Great War
of 1914 to not only end the honor culture of Western civilization, but
extinguish entirely the idea that manhood and reputation was best made
worthy by encountering edge or point in ritualized single combat. The history of the duel is long and complex but the general idea that
two people may choose to settle a private dispute or resolve a conflict
by mutual consent is an ancient one. There are probably as many
examples of sudden on-the-spot duels taking place as there are those
that required extensive negotiations to arrange. And there are examples
of duels being fought between two parties that had no quarrel or cause
whatsoever between them other than they wished to fight someone or
otherwise thought it expected of them by their peers. For every
reluctant duelist there was the sociopathic bully who purposely sought
out or gave offense in order to provoke a fight he was sure to win. For
every sword duel that ended amicably with the two parties shaking hands
before heading off to share a drink there were perhaps a dozen that
ended in complete animosity with one or both parties mortally wounded.
Nevertheless, there has long been a recognition that among duelists (as
well as competitors in combat sports) that they share an intimacy which
very often ends in mutual respect. There was an honesty found in
allowing two capable individuals to just "fight it out" if they wanted.
The problem was, they usually wanted too often for too stupid a reason. Again, it's important to understand that social forces have always
had a profound influence on how men choose to defend themselves or
engage in ritual combats. We have to avoid looking at it from our
perspective rather than from the context of the original time and place.
A man who was willing to risk his life and the taking of life at the
point of a sword, yet abide by rules of what was considered decent or
indecent when fighting would be looked upon with admiration and respect
by his peers and opponents alike. If two similar men survived a serious
duel it was often easy for them to forgive and forget not to mention
enjoy the notoriety they had mutually earned regardless of victory so
long as they had both acted with proper decorum.
It's difficult from our perspective today with our instant
communication and global media to grasp that the primacy of individual
dignity was once solely a matter of the local communities within which a
gentleman personally operated. This compelled and demanded he answer
slander and accusation by a willingness to back up his reputation
through skill in arms. A price had to be paid by those who besmirched
him. By providing protocols and structure to interpersonal violence that
would have happened anyway, dueling directed the impulse into the
something less socially damaging than outright open combat. In offering
opportunity for redress a duel was a means of preserving social order
and limiting revenge in a violence prone society accustomed to constant
death. The problem was that it came to generally force those who did not
want to participate in settling "idle quarrels" to do so anyway,
thereby causing a massive and unnecessary loss of life. Considerable European literature was certainly produced from the 16th
century onward on either supporting or condemning duels. Arguments were
offered for the virtue of reason over rage as well as what was "just"
or sufficient cause to settle a personal matter by "calling out" the
other party. The truth lies somewhere in between. As the Elizabethan
master of defence, George Silver, counseled in 1599, "Take not arms upon
every light occasion" and "Do not upon every trifle make an action of
revenge or of defence." While
dueling might seem like it would just lead to the biggest toughest guy
being free to express invective and make disparagements because he won't
be challenged, that wasn't really the case. The fact is, the duel
actually offered a certain sort of fairness in that weapons are the
great equalizers. Though physical strength and size is a bonus in
fighting, skill supersedes it. It doesn't matter how big and strong you
are when an ordinary sword point can just as easily pierce through your
face or belly and a sharp edge just as easily remove your hand or sever
your kneecap. This is likely why so few historical duels were settled by
fighting unarmed (and why duels with pistols came into being).
Because fencing skill by its nature is about discipline and self-control
it meant you had accomplished some training and were expectedly less
likely to say something rash and impolite. Though there are plenty of
infamous exceptions, generally, people with an appreciation for weapons
and a confidence in using them don't usually go about provoking the
kinds of offensive verbal exchanges that lead to real fights. (One need
only look at online comment threads or Twitter exchanges
—where physical confrontation is an impossibility— discourse is
quick to break down. It's not about being unable to ignore insults but
rather about making dishonorable characters pay a price for disreputable
acts against you. To better understand the role of the sword in duel consider that it
was a personal side-arm closely worn because it was relied on for safety
and survival. It offered an innate capacity to adeptly threaten with
point or edge, to deftly ward off blows, to slash and bash, and to
increase the effectiveness of all this through personal discipline and
study. How could such a valuable object not be highly prized and
lovingly decorated? Curiously, in societies where arms are openly worn
incidents of both sudden violence as well as violent crime are less
frequent. The fact that disrespect and insult can be met with injury or
death does indeed encourage people to better behave themselves around
one another. There was a simple truth at work in an armed society: if
you don't want to risk provoking a duel then avoid angering those who
won't tolerate the indignity of incivility or innuendo. Nothing else
discouraged rudeness more thoroughly –or forced an apology more quickly–
than the possibility of it being answered with a challenge to private
violence. As the erudite swordsman adventurer, Captain Sir Richard
Burton, famously declared in the mid-19th century,"As soon as the sword
ceased to be worn in France, the most polite man became the rudest."
There is an undeniable truth to his observation that in our digital age
of online discourtesy holds growing appeal to the modern student of the
sword. For historical fencing practitioners today, the interest in how swordsmen once prepared for sword duels they would perhaps never have is really not all that different than our own exploration. One cannot examine either antique swords or authentic teachings for their use without regard to how they applied to the dueling tradition. In that regard, we continue their legacy through our own training. It is this long connection between the duel and the sword, between personal single combat and personal sidearm, that is such a part of why it was the unrivaled weapon of choice for defending honor and seeking private justice. The sword in duel may perhaps even have a history stronger than the sword in war.
See also: The Sword in War 3-2017 |
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