The Quest for Manciolino: Introduction

Introduction

The story of Antonio Manciolino is best told from three perspectives; his printers, his patron, and a brief exploration of the contemporary politics. I went on a quest to learn more about Antonio Manciolino the man; to do so I examined all of the knowns about his life and followed those lines of historical narrative to see where they led and if any of these threads revealed a hidden fact about his life. So far I have failed, and the details of his life continue to remain a mystery. The insights I discovered about the peripheral figures in his life however, weave a vivid tapestry about the circles he might’ve frequented, and further studies of these characters could bring us closer to the discoveries I had originally set out to curate, so I decided to present them in various formats to encourage future exploration of the subject. 

To frame this three part exploration of the world Manciolino lived in, let’s discuss what’s known. We know that in 1531, Niccolo de Aristotile d’Rossi, known as lo Zoppino, published Antonio Manciolino’s Opera Nova, in Venice. It was ‘newly revised and printed’ from a mysterious first run that we haven’t yet located. We know that Manciolino’s patron was Don Luis Fernandez de Cordoba Duke of Sessa and he was given the title, Ambassador of the most Serene Emperor Adrian VI (who would be Pope Adrian VI) at the time of publication. We also have a receipt from a print shop in Rome run by Stefano Guillery, from 1518, made out to Antonio Francesco Manciolino for the sale of one thousand copies of a book about the combat of arms, with the promise of repayment upon each sale, with a negotiated sale price of one ducat per copy, the modern equivalent of which can vary considerably between roughly $176 USD (based on the average wage earners yearly salary) to $26 USD (based on fungible goods). Those are the three known pieces of information; two benchmarks from his book and a receipt from 1518.

Now, there is a world of speculation we can dig into with these three details, and that’s naturally where we’re headed, but before we start pulling on the threads of this story, allow me to highlight the inconvenience of these corresponding points. In 1531, when Manciolino printed his text his patron Don Luis Fernandez de Cordoba, had been dead for almost five years. As a consequence it’s been widely argued that Manciolino’s first print run was between 1521 and 1522, when Don Luis Fernandez de Cordoba was the Papal Ambassador to Pope Adrian VI, due to the title accredited to the duke in Manciolino’s dedication, Ambassador of the most Serene Emperor Adrian VI. Alternatively we have a receipt from a print shop in Rome, dated to 1518–three years prior to Don Luis Fernandez de Cordoba’s first trip to Italy–for a print run of one thousand copies to produce a book on fencing made out to Antonio Francesco Manciolino.

The next three instalments of this series will explore each of these clues in detail, as well as tangential elements that help us better understand the context that surrounds these points. The world Manciolino traversed was one of monumental change. His benefactors were both paragons of a bygone age, and heralds of the tectonic shifts that would shape a new European landscape and change the course of western civilization—though one could argue that some of those monoliths just manifest themselves in the another form. Of his printers, one was a pioneer, an influencer, a counter culturalist, and an entrepreneur who was not afraid to challenge the narrative; while the other was a talented artisan, a family man who saw an opportunity and cut a formidable path for himself and did so by abiding the nuances of the existing structure; they will be the focus of part one, Stephano Guillery and Niccolo Aristotile d’Rossi known as lo Zoppino. Both of these men were the benefactors of a little-appreciated event that set off the tidal wave of changes that would define the current that carries this story, the Mainz Diocesan Feud; it too will be discussed. All of these elements will constitute part one. Part two will discuss the life of his patron, Don Luis Fernandez de Cordoba, an interesting and influential man in his day with deep pockets, and deep political connections. Part three will cover the politics that would’ve been impactful to Manciolino’s life; primarily focusing on crime, justice, and weapons laws in key Italian cities related to his life. Through this lens of contemporary politics I hope to bring Manciolino’s view of his own work into focus, and draw the threads of this enterprise tight to the warp to reveal the image within.     

On behalf of both the Triangle Sword Guild and the Art of Arms Podcast, we hope you enjoy.

Satyrs and Nymphs: Tactics in Verse by Antonio Manciolino

By: Joshua Wiest

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Throughout the sixteenth century, authors of fencing manuals utilised a variety of literary conventions to demarcate their technical language from their peers, styles ranging from; the dialogues of dall'Agocchie and Viggiani, to the more vade mecum approach utilised by Marozzo, the Anonimo, and Manciolino. While Marozzo and Manciolino both give general advice pertinent to their schermo at the start to each of their chapters, the Anonimo collassed his discourses on the strategies of fencing in one long introduction. One stylistic choice that sets Manciolino apart from Marozzo is the vibrancy of the intoductions he uses at the outset of each chapter. Manciolino has a whimsical style that sometimes reads as excessive, or honorific; like he’s flaunting his humanist education to bolster his status as a learned man and a worthy teacher. Perhaps it’s fitting given the eclectic nature of his patron, Don Luigi de Cordoba, who enjoyed surrounding himself with famous authors, intellectuals, and notable scholars; men like Pietro Gravina, Baltasar de Castiglione, and Paolo Giovio. The purpose of this brief article is to explore whether or not there is something more to Manciolino’s introductions, to discover if there is a hidden tactical delineation in the poetic introductions of Manciolino’s Opera Nova. 

Book one of Manciolino’s New Work gives us the fundamentals, general rules and explanations; guards, cuts, thrusts, and offensive progressions from the various guards. It’s purely basics, and a great place to start for anyone looking to study the Bolognese authors, but book one’s introduction is also the only inauguration without Manciolino’s characteristic poetic prose. Where it gets interesting is book two, which contains three sword and small buckler assalti, progressions of play that teach you how to move with a sword, the book starts off like this:

“Having suitably described the ten famed guards as well as the offenses they may spawn in the previous book, in this second book I will diligently offer instruction in three masterful plays (or assalti) with the sword and small buckler. These will be well-received by students, as they help make the body, the legs and the hands lively and quick. Therefore, he who does not take delight in stepping in tempo and in the way I will teach (and have taught), will enjoy neither grace nor victory in his fencing.” 3

He gives a brief summary of the previous book, and introduces the subject of book two. Learning how to take the fundamental concepts illustrated in book one, and applying them in a graceful flow of actions, ie. learning how to move with a sword. 

“Not grace, for just as rich fabrics adorn the charming and lovely Nymphs lightly treading on Mount Menalus or in the Lyceum, so does supple stepping embellish the blows of the dazzling sword. Were our weapon despoiled of its proper steps, it would fall into the darkness of a serene night being orphaned of the stars. And how can white-clad Victory be, where gentle grace is lacking?” 3

This is important, keep this in mind, the charming and lovely Nymphs lightly treading on Mount Menalus or in Lyceum, so does supple stepping embellish the blows of the dazzling sword. He’s already established that the exercises in this book are designed to teach a graceful flow of actions, and to this exercise of grace, we get our lightly treading nymphs. 

“We shan’t therefore call him victor who wins by chance and throws random blows like a brutal peasant; nor shall we call vanquished him who proceeds according to the correct teachings. It is indeed more respected among knowledgeable men to lose with poise than to win erratically and outside of any elegance.

The hand of fortune is sometimes found in vile disgrace; but Victory always sits upon a grace that is never tyrannical. I therefore conclude that never will loss visit the polished fencer, even after he perchance receives a hit.” 3

Manciolino affirms the notion that those who do not take delight in the graceful expression of the art will never truly know victory,  “And how can white-clad Victory be, where gentle grace is lacking.” 

The Anonymous author has this to say about the grace and beauty of wideplay:

“The beauty and grace of the wide play is a great delight to those who see it, derived from performing graceful blows with the arms fully extended as swiftly as possible, followed by fine turns of the body accompanied with brisk steps and lovely and graceful turns of the hand, namely molinetti and tramazzoni, and lovely swift extended falsi, so that to those who watch and behold such motions of the body it would seem that he who does such miraculous things could do naught else than throw those graceful blows at distance, accompanied by those agile steps that produce such marvellous delight.”  4

This is affirmed later by Giovanni dall’Agocchie, in 1572, when his muse Lepido asks him why the fencing of the day is more narrow: 

“I believe that they who say so err greatly, because what new blows have the moderns discovered that don’t derive their origins from times passed? I find that all the guards, the blows, and every other thing that is used in these times was being used as well in the time of the ancients. Therefore I don’t know how to consider it otherwise than that they mean that the fencing of today is very restricted compared to the ancient sort. To show how much value there is in the argument that there are new usages can be recognized by this: that the ancient masters knew it excellently, but rather their foundation was based upon closing to the half sword. But since this is a difficult thing which cannot be used without cleverness and great art, they reserved it to teach until the last, and not at the beginning, as do these new masters, many of whom, I believe, fool themselves. Because, as the sages say, you always have to teach the easy things at the beginning, and the difficult ones at the end. If, therefore, the ancients were using the long play, they were doing so with reason and were judging excellently, because with it one renders the arm and the body more limber together, throws blows long and with measure, and a man is made more agile and of good grace.” 1

The period perspective seems to be unanimous across the landscape of a century, wideplay is graceful and beautiful to watch, it’s an expression of the art that is delightful to the spectator. What dall’Agocchie alludes to, also seems to highlight the concurrence of a tactical philosophy, a pedagogical approach to fencing that is sometimes overlooked, or not quite respected by modern readers, yet is presented by all of the core authors in the Bolognese tradition, “that the ancient masters knew it excellently (wide play), but rather their foundation was based upon closing to the half sword.” 

Manciolino and Marozzo both teach three sword and small buckler assalti, Manciolino’s are a full progression of play (ie. they demonstrate a fight from beginning to end), starting with an embellishment, an entrance into measure, an attack, and an exit from play. Marozzo divides his assalti into modes of fencing, an embellishment accompanied by wide play actions, followed by a lesson on how to enter into mezza spada from wide play, or as he says, "(the assalti) will proceed to the half-sword and its strette", and his final chapter deals with the mezza-spada plays where he demonstrates strette and prese techniques. 

Manciolino saves his stretta or mezza-spada techniques for their own book, book three. He opens the book by leaping straight into prose, introduces a new set of characters that provide a twist to his colourful dialogue, and brings life to dall'Agocchie's nascent observations. 

“Much more joyful than our martial plays are the assalti that rough-haired Satyrs conduct toward hunting Nymphs in the pages of poetry books. Those subjects are so fine that words compose themselves for the poet, in a sweet and ever-flowing style.” 3

“Much more joyful than our martial plays are the assalti that rough-haired Satyrs conduct toward hunting Nymphs in the pages of poetry books.” These rough-haired Satyrs are hunting Nymphs, remember the Nymphs? “Not grace, for just as rich fabrics adorn the charming and lovely Nymphs lightly treading on Mount Menalus or in the Lyceum, so does supple stepping embellish the blows of the dazzling sword.” Let’s learn more about our antagonists:

“When bards attempt to tell of goat-gods’ wooly limbs, their horny brows, their gestures so licentious, words are not compos’d, but hues on canvas paint their rustic charge, while breathless Nymphs a-flee. One lifts her purple gown above her milky knee, as braids of golden hair cascade upon her chest, and quiet breezes blow and part her locks so fine. And others plunge in rivers sheer and fluid, where shelter lays (they hope) for their unsullied flow’r, Diana’s ward. And others yet, now conquer’d by fatigue, in shrubs and bushes do their safety seek; their faces quite like blooms as Dawn begins to appear, the drops of pearly sweat they clear, with snow-white hands and fingers slight, regaining their lost wind.” 3

We get this harrowing image of breathless Nymphs fleeing before the rustic charge of the Satyrs, seeking shelter wherever it can be found, fearing that their innocence will be lost. If the grace and beauty of wide play is analogous with the gentle grace of the Nymphs, surely our rough-haried Satyrs are representative of the directness of mezza-spada.  It reminds me of a quote from the Anonimo Bolognese: 

“Everyone must know and understand that in this ingenious art of the sword one finds two ways of fighting. These are the wide play and the narrow play and take note that both can be used safely. If you wish to be a good fencer, then you must understand that if you were fighting against one that understands the narrow play, should you try to fight against him from the wide play, then your talent will be confounded; and so if you find yourself against one who is good at the wide play, then it is necessary for you to fight him from the narrow play, as you prefer.” 4

Perhaps more to the point is this lovely anecdote from Achille Marozzo which highlights the dichotomy of the hunt:

“Theoretically speaking, let’s say there are two fencers who are fencing together, one of who has only learned the wide play, whereas the other has learned both the wide and narrow play. The one who has only learned the wide play will retreat the entire length of the school, whereas the one who has learned both the wide and the narrow play (Strette) will chase the aforesaid the entire distance thereof. So for this reason, I advise you to tell your students that they need to learn both of the said plays together, for their utility.” 2

“When bards attempt to tell of goat-gods’ wooly limbs, their horny brows, their gestures so licentious, words are not compos’d, but hues on canvas paint their rustic charge, while breathless Nymphs a-flee.” To which he continues, “And others yet, now conquer’d by fatigue, in shrubs and bushes do their safety seek; their faces quite like blooms as Dawn begins to appear, the drops of pearly sweat they clear, with snow-white hands and fingers slight, regaining their lost wind.”

Diane Chasing Satyrs by Nicolas Chaperon

Manciolino is using his mythical discourse to enlighten us of the perils of various modes of fencing. The beautiful Nymphs, Diana’s ward, are a perfect metaphor for wide play fencing, and the Satyrs, mezza spada. The presence of Diana in Manciolino’s alliteration is a master's touch. Diana, or Artemis in Greek, was the goddess of the hunt, protector of the nymphs, she carried a bow with a quiver of golden arrows, a projectile weapon best utilised at distance, just as wide play actions themselves are best performed at a distance. To the Satyr, the brutish yet clever representation of man’s worst carnal desires, half man, half beast, these monstrosities of the proto-indo european imagination are perfect analogs for the depraved humanity and shrewd intellect required to effectively drive mezza spada techniques. 

Manciolino continues his discourse on the nature of mezza-spada after a beleaguered aside where he highlights the challenges of being a ‘great’ writer and having to submit to the redundancy of the language required to write a competent fencing manual, namely, how many ways can you say left or right without using left or right redundantly:

“Going back to our subject, I will devote this third book to the art of the half sword. As you fence against your opponent, you will often get to the narrow play or strette in such a way that it would be best for you to play at the half sword. But this requires a sharp mind and a great deal of art. This type of play is first among all others.

He who does not understand it perfectly and does not have an excellent foundation in it will never be a good Master. No matter how good a fencer, how skilled in the defense and how quick with his hands, he will be unable to teach the true art to others, since the true art consists in being strongest and most resilient. Rather than knowledgeable, these fencers should more aptly be considered to be lucky when they score a hit.” 3

We see the value that Manciolino puts in the mezza-spada techniques in his conclusion of book three's introduction. He aspouses the virtue of the mezza spada, calling it the true art, one that requires the highest level of acuity and sense to execute, and a foundation for which a master can not neglect. Marozzo furthers this sentiment with the following:

“Here  I will present the third assault, which will diaplay the art of the half-sword. I do so because those who wish to teach know that the art of the ahlf-sword is the best part of fencing, and those who teach or believe themselves to be good fencers but don’t know the aforesaid art lack a solid foundation. Therefore, I want you to know that it is the foundation of the art of fencing, not just with the small buckler, but also all other kinds of weapons, with pole arms as well as with single-handed edged weapons. Thus I counsel you to present these things only to men who have good hearts, because they will do them without any concern, and will be the ones who will do you honor; but as for those who seem to you not to have such character, present them the things that are found in the first assault (wide play), because if you were to try to teach them such things as are found in the second and third assaults, you would drive them away, because they might not have sufficient spirit to do them.”   2

To tie these two descriptions together, and add the brush strokes that will breathe life into our mythical Satyrs, we turn to the Anonimo:

“Often it happens that one fighter will be graceful and polite with the sword in hand, yet nevertheless it does not serve him well when he finds himself against another fighter who fights brutishly with his sword. And so, the graceful fighter upon coming to grips with one that fights brutishly does not perceive that the brutish fighter will come out on top, because the brute cares only for utility and does not give a damn for beautiful play as his mind focuses upon only what will work and dispenses with all pompous displays. There are those that stay polite with the sword in hand and delight in refinement, and so not focus upon utility. Therefore it is necessary for any fighter coming to grips with this opponent to have good judgement about his opponent, because so often it happens that fighter who will play politely and gallantly, others will say he fights well even though his play is not useful, and so it will often happen that regarding the one that fights brutishly they will say he does not know how to hold his sword and that he will not be a good fighter, and will not defeat the pretty fencer when skills are put to the test.”  4

So, who are we supposed to be, polite and graceful, or brutish; Nymph or Satyr. Manciolino and Marozzo both say the greatest art lies in the skills possessed by whom the Anonimo would call a brute, yet grace and art are our only path to victory by Manciolino's aforementioned standards. For greater insight, we’ll have to continue on into book four’s introduction:

“Noble reader, I consider it necessary at this juncture to explain my earlier declaration that I would leave this work bare of any literary ornament. If you examine the matter closely, you can but admit that there are many things which we deem praiseworthy in one situation while considering them utterly unfit for another.

…who could fail to express sweet approbation for a baby’s first blabber? Yet, the same talk from an adult would cause us to laugh and doubt the person’s sanity.Thus, we can say that something is laudable or despicable not in itself, but rather in relation to the person or thing of which it is an attribute.” 3

Manciolino addresses this very question, and gives us a series of parables to justify his claim. “You can but admit that there are many things which we deem praiseworthy in one situation while considering them utterly unfit for another”. Understand the context?

“Likewise, he who fails to praise the splendid colors of polished literature, the elegance of well-composed speech, and the harmony of poetry would be rightfully deemed insensible. Yet, it would be equally insensible to adopt the same form of speech in a topic for which it is unfit. Therefore, a wise writer always creates characters who speak and reply in a manner befitting their condition. It would not be proper for a mature person of years to either dress as an adolescent or flirt like one. Just as improper would be for a man of arms, rust-stained from the constant donning of armor, to utter debonair sounds with the same tongue that is so accustomed to debilitating thirst and hunger and to the dust that forever saturates the spacious martial field—unless that speech was the one delivered by the magnanimous Ajax against the sagacious Odysseus.

That speech Ajax gave before all Grecian princes, in the occasion of a contest between the two heroes for the arms of great Achilles. Ajax displayed the disposition of a noble soldier, Odysseus that of a consummate orator. And even if Odysseus’ speech had been despoiled of its persuasive tones, it would still have surpassed that of Ajax. Nay, it would have been like Diana stripped of her precious ornaments or like Venus standing next to Pales, the ever-nude and fair goddess of shepherds.” 3

Therefore, a wise writer always creates characters who speak and reply in a manner befitting their condition. Now we come to Manciolino’s point. Who are we supposed to be as consummate fencers, well-trained in the art of the Bolognese authors? Are we to be a Nymph or a Satyr? We’re called to be neither. Manciolino draws us to a concise conclusion, and lays it out for us succinctly. We’re called to be writers, orators, authors, or poets; we’re called to be artists. A writer has the unique privilege of understanding both the mind of the vile Satyr, and that of the beautiful Nymph, without ever becoming the embodiment of either. Through the passage of verse, they can flow through the consciousness of both, and emerge unscathed by complexities of their character. We are the omnipotent beings that can act with either mind without ever being. The Anonimo characterises the mindset of the perfect fencer like this:

“A fighter with sword in hand must be proud and haughty, of a nature that is both clever and malicious, and he that will possess the greater surfeit of these qualities will overcome his foe. He that will secure his honor needs to bedeck himself in steadfastness, and he that will acquire honor shall not fear toil, and he that wishes to become a warrior shall be wicked, false and deceitful. His attacks will be artful, made in the correct tempo, with a joyful spirit, and always seeking a way to seize the initiative. That same man who wants to handle weapons must no be ignorant lest he hand his opponent an easy victory, for so many die from ignorance, and even if one has the heart of lion, it shall not be adequate to overcome ignorance.” 4

But these modes of fencing represent more than just choleric and sanguine expressions of temperament. Bringing the discussion back to the strategic insight of Manciolino’s bimetric illustration, we again turn to MSS Ravenna M-345 and 346, the Anonimo Bolognese:

“And to render this more simply to those who wish to understand the art of defense, if you wish to use the full array of techniques and guards and all of your understanding, then when you run across a fencer that fights in the narrow play, then you will act as though you plan to fence in the wide play, and then astutely strike him from the narrow play; and so too, if you find a fencer that fences from the wide play, you should act as though you intend to fence in the narrow play, but actually strike him with an attack from the wide play; and thus if you have the true art and someone fences from the wide play you can hit him in the wide play, and likewise if you find someone fencing in the narrow play, you will strike him from the said narrow play.” 4

It would be equally insensible to adopt the same form of speech in a topic for which it is unfit. Therefore, a wise writer always creates characters who speak and reply in a manner befitting their condition. Speak with the voice of the occasion. Whether or not Manciolino intended for his voracious introductions to be a cascading metaphor for duality of his schermo, we can still find wisdom in his prose. To that end, dear reader, I'll leave you with Manciolino's words at the end of book four's introduction, and let you decide if this is a hidden code, or simply boisterous dalliance:

"With this, I wish to conclude that although I do not come before you as an orator, my speech will not be so rough as to be unworthy of comparison with that of other modern, more polished works—if not from its outside, at least underneath its surface." 3

The Title Page of Manciolino’s Opera Nova

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1. W. Jherek Swanger, Giovanni dall’Agocchie, Dell’Arte di Scrimia, The Art of Defense: on Fencing, the Joust, and Battle Formation, lulu press, May 5, 2018: Link

2. W. Jherek Swanger, Achille Marozzo, Opera Nova, The Duel, or the Flower of Arms for Single Combat, Both Offensive and Defensive, lulu press, April 22, 2018: Link

3. Tom Leoni, Antonio Manciolino, Opera Nova, The Complete Renaissance Swordsman, Freelance Academy Press, July, 2010: Link

4. Stephen Fratus, Anonimo Bolognese, With Malice & Cunning: Anonymous 16th Century Manuscript on Bolognese Swordsmanship, lulu press, Februrary 18, 2020: Link

What's in a Technique: Part 1

JD Wiest

No seriously, what’s in a technique. A lot of times in historical martial arts we get caught up thinking about the literal interpretation of a technique. ‘When Ringeck says to spring with the zwerchau to the left side, is it literal, or is it figurative--What is a spring anyway.’ I guess a better way to frame the question is, why? What’s the tactic?

I did a thorough breakdown of Antonio Manciolino’s Sword and Large Buckler plays, and extracted the tactical insights from the techniques, and I would like to use that as a platform to share how you can take a handful of techniques and get a snapshot of the tactical framework of a system. Let’s dive in!

Book IV,Chapter I:

• The lesson starts with a description of the approach and a provocation:

“Gather your right foot near your left, then step forward with your left foot, without delivering any attacks” As you press the opponent in this fashion, he will be forced to do one of two things: either attack you or retreat.”

• From here Manciolino goes on to describe five distinct parries if your opponent decides to attack you in the timing of your step, and this begins with a simple thrust. The fascinating thing about this series is that all five parries seem to represent a falling order as your opponent comes closer and closer in measure. For example, if you’re just outside of measure as you begin your approach, and your opponent tries to catch you in the timing of your step you have plenty of distance to react, so the response is a simple step off line, parrying with the buckler, and a cut to the exposed sword arm. Safe and quick; because your opponent has reacted too soon, you have plenty of time to move your feet.

  As the plays progress, and you have less and less time to react, the initial parry becomes more condensed. Where the first two plays have steps offline accompanied by big sweeping cuts or attacks to shallow targets, that we would call wide play actions, the third play commands a quick thrust beneath your buckler, and the fourth while still seeing a false edge parry to defend against the thrust, settles for a riverso to the legs that is followed by a thrust to regain the center line. The fifth play loses ground entirely, and forces you to make a true edge parry to close the line, and a slicing riverso across the face (Duplerin, yea?).  

1. Pass with your right foot towards his left side, delivering a riverso to the sword arm in that tempo and letting your left foot follow behind the right; then, keep yourself safe by passing back with your right foot and setting yourself in Coda Lunga e Alta as above. 

2. Or, you can throw your left foot towards his left, while jamming your false edge under his incoming attack; pass with your right foot towards his left side and deliver a mandritto  to his left leg, letting your left foot follow behind your right. Then, throw your right foot back and perform a meza volta (half turn of the hand) with your sword hand, which will get you into the initial guard. 

3. You could also pass with your right foot towards his left side, pushing a thrust to his flank and letting your left foot follow behind the right; then pass back with your right foot and comfortably recover into the initial guard. 

4. You could also pass with your right foot forward somewhat to the opponent’s left, jamming your false edge (accompanied by your buckler) under his incoming thrust; then immediately strike his left leg with a riverso. Recover by passing back with your right foot and placing your sword in Guradia di Faccia, and finish by setting yourself in the initial guard. 

5. Or, you could pass with your right foot forward somewhat towards the opponents left side , opposing his thrust with your true edge; then, turn a riverso to his face while passing back with your right foot. For your defense, end by pushing a thrust in Guardia di Faccia and recovering in Coda Lunga e Alta.

What are the tactical insights from this series of actions?

• Change the line of attack: The buckler, more often than not, will dominate the center line. To create effective attacks, you have to use active footwork to flank the closed off center of your opponent.

• Attack weak angles: While Manciolino doesn’t describe your opponent’s thrust in detail, we can assume it is probably a stocatta, with the sword below or to the side of the buckler. This means the hand is in a handshake, knuckles-down position, and the strength of his skeletal structure is driving downward. To exploit this, Manciolino instructs you to JAM the false edge of your sword under his thrust. This will attack the vertical weak angle and force your opponent to lose any hope of leverage, giving you a tempo of attack. 

• Always re-establish center: Going back to Manciolino’s words in book one when he’s introducing the guards and cuts, “If you receive a hit while hitting your opponent, your glory would be naught, since this would make you simultaneously the victor and the vanquished. Do not, therefore share your victory with your opponent, and do not let him share his shame with you.” This requires two keys; the first is to attack in tempo, the second is to cover your retreat. We see this play out in three ways.

  •  Mezza Volta: When your final attack to your opponent is a mandritto, the cut will naturally end in Porta di Ferro Stretta/Larga or Chingiara Porta di Ferro Stretta/Larga, from this guard you are in a great defensive position. If your opponent tries to repost with a mandritto you have the line covered, and if he tries to attack with a riverso, a simple turn of the hand is enough to ward off their blow. 

  • Footwork: Notice that the left foot is always trailing the right foot during the actions where you are stepping to your opponents left with your right foot. A step to the right alone exposes the whole body, but if you circle your left foot behind your right foot when you step, you’ll  re-establish the center line, and flank your opponent. The attack is delivered while your weight is on your right foot allowing your left to circle behind, ground, and then you can retreat to a left foot forward position and safely assume the appropriate guard to prevent an afterblow.

  • Dominating the center line: Footwork changes the center line, but as we discussed above, footwork isn’t always the best available option. If you don’t have time to step off-line, or your initial attack is predicated on attacking the center of your opponent, the best way to retreat is to dominate the center with a powerful thrust. This is also the best option when you’ve cut a riverso, and your sword is inclined to travel away from your body. Riverso’s, especially when cut with power, are harder to stop because your torso isn’t acting as a natural barrier to stop the cut. The best way to counter this tendency is to engage your muscles to start moving to another assumed position. In this case the action is a thrust into Guradia di Faccia, and this is one of the most common actions in the Bolognese sword and buckler tradition. If you need to step out of measure safely, it’s a pretty safe bet to just thrust under your buckler into Guardia di Faccia. 

All of that can be derived from 5 relatively simple plays, and that’s really just scratching the surface of the tactical analysis we can glean from these actions. In the next installment Chris Nolan will be providing an even deeper look, and then we’ll follow up with next six plays of Book 4 Chapter 1 of Antonio Manciolino’s Opera Nova. 

Italicized text provided by Tom Leoni’s, “The Complete Renaissance Swordsman” Freelance Academy Press 2010.

The Mindsets

JD Wiest

With the reality of a world-wide pandemic well upon us, many of us will be wondering how we can keep training and improving without the possibility of structured classes or instructional institutions to guide our practice. With the prevalence of information, and the amazing diversity of sources and disciplines readily available to us through books, manuals, Wiktenauer, social media and YouTube, the focus of this installment is going to steer away from any specific exercises or drills, and instead highlight the different mindsets that you can bring to your personal training to get the most out of your time studying and practicing on your own. 

There are five mindsets that I want to highlight: technical efficiency, speed, flow, power, and focus. When you understand these five basic principles you can take one basic action, say an oberhau or a stringere technique, and you can create a dynamic practice around that single action.

Technical efficiency is an essential element of every martial artist’s individual practice. Regardless of whether you’re adding to an existing routine, or just trying to supplement missed class time in the wake of the current situation, it’s a key to achieving the goals you set for yourself in your journey. Technical efficiency can be achieved by simply slowing down your movements and refining every detail of the action or play that you’re practicing Tai-chi is an example of a highly technical approach to practice). Take for example the zornort play, which is something I imagine as a practitioner of KdF you’ve probably practiced a thousand times by now (regardless of skill level), but your form and technique can still be improved by breaking the play down into its component parts, and working on the intricacies that make it a dynamic part of the Liechtenauer tradition. Are you leading with your sword? How’s your edge alignment? Is your stepping fluid or is it cumbersome? Do you hesitate before you wind, or can you perform the action at random with fluidity? These are little elements, technical elements, that you can bring piecemeal into your practice of one technique and extend your practice for hours but are the first step to mastery. This can be done with any technique from the Zettel to the Opera Nova, just pick out a series of actions you have a desire to work on, dissect them into their essential parts, and perfect them.

Speed may seem self-explanatory but let me assure you there is a lot more to speed than just how quickly you can perform an action. At its core, speed is just that, how quickly you can perform an action, but in practice someone who is fast is not only quick, they are efficient, controlled and fluid. This all starts with technical efficiency. Why? Because another aspect of speed comes from being relaxed and poised. A clear mind, and a relaxed body are faster than clouded mind and tense body. So, in order to better develop speed, you work the same technique over and over again until you’ve become intimate with that technique and minutia of its details, then you start working them a little bit faster, which brings you back to step one, in that you’re working the technical details you discovered in the prior step at a faster speed, and you continue in this cyclical progression until you reach the desired speed you’re aiming for. This creates a familiarity that allows for both physical speed and mental speed under pressure. One great way to check in with your progress is to alternate speeds between the speed you’re working on and the speed you started at. This will ensure that you’re keeping the technical efficiency mindset as you work toward your desired outcome.  

Flow is a little more ambiguous, especially for beginners, but this will resonate well with those who have experience sparring, in that flow is generated from a sense of enemy, and it requires that experience to provide its inherent benefits. Imagine what it was like when you first started taking the techniques that you’ve been drilling into sparring and tried to pull them off against an opponent with more experience than you. It almost seems like they’re telepathic, reading your every move, but you can’t seem to get a beat on what they’re doing because they move so well and transition smoothly between attacks. As you gain experience, you start to understand these elements, and when you revisit drills, you start incorporating the lessons of your past bruises into further drills. Eventually you get to their level, and then it’s you who’re fighting a new student, and exploiting the robotic nature of an individual whose been doing a repetitive action without the framework of a fight to guide their movements. This dynamism of movement highlighted in this example is flow and it’s the abrasive that helps smooth out the rough edges of technique focused drilling. In personal practice flow can be achieved by throwing out the rigidity of technical efficiency and pushing yourself to move in a more natural way, perhaps with a little more speed than you’re comfortable with. Another great way to practice this is shadow boxing, which is just fighting against an invisible enemy, imagining them parrying your blows and reposting with cuts and thrusts. [s4] Both examples will help you find the next steps to work toward in your training and give you new insights on elements of technical efficiency and speed to progress toward, which will allow you to start into the cycle again.

The next element of personal practice and the last of the core physical elements of training is power. Power is last because it takes a clear understanding of the previous elements be able to safely and efficiently utilize power. Ironically, power is the easiest thing to utilize unsafely, and the hardest to master safely. We’ve all heard of the raging bull, the buffel, the untrained peasant who swings their weapon furiously, right? These are representation of the common man, not the master, yet every fencing master and manuscript writer talks about striking with the full power of your body. The anonymous writer of MS 345 Classense Ravenna, or the Anonimo Bolognese frequently talks about thrusting with the entire power of the body and his later contemporary Achille Marozzo says at one point to cut your opponent with such force that it will travel from their shoulder down to their feet. Power is a very real and necessary technique to master, but first one must understand the previous three elements and how they safely and efficiently inform our goal of power generation. Power when properly applied is more than just striking with force, it is striking with force, at speed, in control, with technical proficiency, and is done with an element of understanding that applying power in a technique requires further strength and fluidity to recover from regardless of the techniques success. Power is not something that is used continuously, it is used in a directed and meaningful way, and to develop the ability to do you this you’ll have to alternate between doing actions with strength and power and doing them with flow. To go back to our zornort example power can be applied in the initial zornhau, but to be performed well, the cut must end in a guard. In drilling this is represented by stopping a stationary fixed position, perhaps, when in the reality of combat this guard only represents a safe decision point that must be acted upon immediately, indes, with fuhlen. When you put the full play together, you’ll find that each element requires a different measure of power. The cut is powerful, the thrust is done with a firmness so that it can succeed but not a rigidity that prevents you from being able to progress through the play.  When you break that down you can see where we’re headed, we’re going back to the beginning, back to technical efficiency, speed, and flow. All these elements build upon one another and enrich our training.

The natural conclusion of this discussion ends with focus. Focus is the uniting force of all these elements. In the beginning it can be a mindset that you assign for a specific training session, say focusing on technical efficiency or power, but as you practice these elements, and incorporate them into your training, it will become a whisper that stems from your subconscious that will inform your dills and provide them with depths you never imagined. This is the same focus that Yogi’s teach their students when they emphasize the breath as much as the physical postures of Yoga, and you apply can the same principle by seeding the afore mentioned elements into your personal study of Western Martial Arts. It’s a subconscious checklist of technical elements that exist outside of the textual framework you study but are woven through those very techniques, and will provide you with an excellent foundation for achieving whatever it is you set out to accomplish on your journey. Thus, focus is a mindfulness that we bring to our practice that highlights either one element or all the elements of dynamic training listed above, but always focusing on one of these five principles to refine our technique and provide pathways to technical mastery.