Continuing on from last week's article from Ottorino Scognamiglio, today is part two of our glimpse into the Mecca of pre-war Italian fencing, the Military Fencing Master's School in Rome.
This second account comes from Giovanni Franceschinis, who after graduating from the school had a long and successful career teaching in Vienna, following in the footsteps of Luigi Barbasetti, whom he spent some time training under during his time at the Master's School. This article was originally published in the July 1956 issue of the Italian Fencing Fedaration's magazine Scherma. It is the first of three articles by Franceschinis that the magazine published, with the other two dedicated to his career in Austria. While these are also interesting in their own right, only the first article will be translated here due to its relevance to the Rome Fencing Master's School.
Contrary to what Franceschinis claims, his course at the school took place from 1890 to 1893, so any of the dates he gives regarding his time there should be shifted a year earlier. Compared to Scognamiglio's account, Franceschinis pays a little more attention to the individuals involved in the training as well as their and his own achievements during the early stages of his career. These details partly set the stage for Franceschinis' subsequent articles in which he describes the glories and successes of Italian fencing throughout Europe at the turn of the 20th century, in addition to simply allowing Franceschinis to associate himself with the more famous figures at the centre of these events.
Biographies of great masters: Maestro Giovanni Franceschinis
On the occasion of the dispute at the Gaudini Cup in Milan last March, we had the pleasure of meeting Maestro Giovanni Franceschinis in person (we already knew him by reputation), and since we knew that he had had a rather interesting life, we asked him to dictate something for the readers of Scherma, a request which he immediately granted with pleasure.
Perhaps few fencers, even among the masters, will remember him; most do not know who he is. This is not very surprising, since, aside from belonging to that privileged and, unfortunately, now quite...rarefied category of fencers and masters who are well into their 80s, Franceschinis lived abroad for many years; and as we know, 'out of sight, out of mind'. But not so for us, having imposed on ourselves the dutiful task (not always easy, to tell the truth, and least of all supported by the interested parties themselves) of pulling from oblivion those who have given to our sport their best energies and—whether as amateurs or as professionals—brought prestige and honour to Italian fencing. As Franceschinis occupies a very worthy place among these people, we are glad to take advantage of the occasion which put us in contact with him in order to introduce him to readers.
We intended to make this introduction immediately after the interview; unfortunately we were forced to postpone month after month because the competitive activity was such that it completely absorbed the available space. However, as we are not dealing with topical matters, the postponement does not harm either the story or its presentation.
Franceschinis, for those who do not know, is a vigorous and venerable old man who wears his 86 years of age with ease, and his upright body still maintains some of that proud bearing acquired in the Nizza Cavalry, which he was a part of in his distant youth. He now lives, almost in solitude, in Milanino, living on nostalgic memories and a very poor pension, something which these days happens often to many survivors of the previous century. But even if life for him now is somewhat sad and difficult, he has not lost the spiritual serenity that was his faithful companion and solid support in the fight for existence, carefree and beautiful while the years were carefree and beautiful, but tough and sad when it should have been easy and peaceful.
May he be comforted by the thought that those who knew him remember him with affection and respect, and we at the columns of Scherma wish him all the best. Having made this introduction, here is what the good Franceschinis told us:
How I became a fencing master
I was born in Udine on 15 August 1869, and I am the son of an Italian patriot, one of the brave defenders of Osoppo Fortress (1848) who was deported in 1861 to Olmutz, in Moravia, for having participated in the revolutionary revolts for Italian independence in that year, then he was a captain commissioner in the Italian army. Like most old fencing masters, I too come from the famous Military Master's School, which was founded in Rome in 1884 and in which I attended the 4th course (1891–1894), under the direction of the great Maestro Masaniello Parise.1
To tell the truth, my career was not supposed to be that of a fencing master. My father wanted to make me a brilliant officer, and to that aim he made sure to send me through the strict classrooms of the Milan Military College, where I lived for four years, from 1884 to 1888. In 4th year, however, while I was getting by quite well in other subjects, I stumbled in mathematics, and since I would have to repeat the year, no longer with half-board (until then I had been able, as the son of an officer, to enjoy this benefit), but full board, and my father was unable to support me, I thus volunteered in the army, enlisting as a student sergeant in the 1st Nizza Cavalry regiment in Milan. Two years after promotion to sergeant, I applied and was accepted into the Fencing Master's School.
When I entered the school I was not ignorant of fencing, because both at the college—under the guidance of the civil masters Guarisco and Cavallo—as well as in the Nizza Regiment, I was successfully frequenting the fencing hall, falling in love with this most noble art.2 At the Master's School I passionately applied myself under the guidance of Maestro Guasti.
The school was then, as is known, at the Santa Caterina barracks (Salita Magnanapoli), with modest facilities, but a now rich tradition of seriousness and intention: a true school of character and art. The school was subordinate to the Ministry of War. Militarily it was commanded by an army captain, and—for its technical aspect—it was under the direction of Maestro Masaniello Parise, winner of the competition for a unified text on sabre and foil fencing, announced by the Ministry. The courses at the school, to achieve the Military Master diploma with an army or navy regiment, lasted two years, later increased to three years in 1892.
The school had a first-rate teaching body, selected from among the best and most capable masters in all of Italy. Aside from the director Parise, there were two vice-directors (civil masters Pecoraro and Pessina); the teaching masters: Guasti and Laudati (civil), Drosi, Nappi, and others.
There were six hours of lessons per day: three in the morning, two in the afternoon, plus one for theory. An hour of gymnastics early in the morning. In addition to the lessons with one's master, there were set exercises in pairs—always, however, under the supervision of the master. Even the vice-directors gave lessons, occasionally, taking turns. For the first year of the course there was no sabre, only foil. There were competitions, to touch with a lunge, by direct thrust or parry-riposte, but never in close measure. Exercises which developed the fencer greatly.
In the second year Maestro Agesilao Greco joined the school, employed as a bouting master, without a student group.3 He was already a very strong fencer, with exceptional physical strength and endurance, more enamoured with and passionate about his art than any other. To give an idea of this passion of his, I will tell you an anecdote. We were both in the guardhouse in the barracks, he for eight days and I for fifteen, through common military shortcomings. One day I see him arrive at the guardhouse with foils, masks, and Indian clubs. For us the days of confinement in the guardhouse were...days of rest. Anything but rest! Agesilao made me work like a dog.4
During the year various military masters, already in the service and blessed with special talents, were called to the school for supplementary courses of two or three months, such as Santelli, Tagliapietra, Conte, Tagliaferri, and Schiavoni. These masters were, for us students, of great benefit in every respect. During the 2nd year of the course (1892) the director, on behalf of the Ministry of War and at the invitation of the English ministry, went on a mission to London with a group of the best masters and fencers for a demonstration of Italian fencing. Taking part were the masters: A. Greco, I. Santelli, E. Torricelli, and Schiavoni.5 Their exhibitions enraptured the cold and formal English public.
The school's students often participated in national and even international tournaments. For example, at the Grand Palermo Tournament during the 1893 National Exposition the school—by order of the Ministry—sent seven students from the 3rd year as amateurs (registration was free for masters), in particular: Alesiano, Berti, Gazzera, Miserocchi, Morellini, Olimpico, and this author. All were among the best classified with a gold medal. In addition to my two medals in foil and sabre, I received an English Colt carbine, which was a special gift from the Commanding General of the Army Corps. There were around 300 participants, and the unforgettable tournament lasted 14 days. Agesilao Greco was first among the masters, in foil and sabre. They were the best and strongest blades in Italy.
During my last year at the school the director Parise often entrusted me with special assignments, and on one such occasion I had the fortune of witnessing the civil master exams (students at the school were excluded). The committee was composed of General Manacorda, president, and masters Parise, Pecoraro, Pagliuca, Masiello, Pessina, and others. In such circumstances, performances were made. It was in one of them that I saw the most thrilling bout of my life. The protagonists were masters A. Greco and Vittorio Sartori (the dynamite Bersaglieri, as he was called). It was a masterpiece of fencing and art. The bout lasted 35 minutes. Greco won 4 hits to 1.
In July 1894 I was appointed master, with 24 other colleagues, one of whom from the navy. 63 people were admitted to my course.6 As you can see, it was a real sifting. I was assigned to the 7th Milan Cavalry, stationed at Nola.
Partly due to the uninviting headquarters, largely due to the fascination that young masters had for the international fame that surrounded our fencing masters—who at that time were in demand everywhere—the fact was that I too was looking for an escape and an adventure beyond the borders of the fatherland, and for this purpose I turned to Maestro Barbasetti, who was then teaching in Vienna and whom I, for a few months, had had as a teacher at the Rome Master's School.
Having left the army not long before in order to fill the more remunerative instructor position at the Trieste Fencing Society, whose president was the great fencer Count Sordina (a position subsequently occupied by Maestro Tagliapietra, who held it until his death in 1948), Barbasetti moved to Vienna for a few months at the military school in Wiener Neustadt and the Union Fechtclub. While waiting for the anticipated call, I put my attention to perfecting myself, going to the National Academy in Naples, where I worked with the masters Russomando, Macrì, and others.
But Barbasetti did not get in touch, and then, without thinking about it too much, I requested and obtained overseas leave—I had relatives in Trieste and it was not difficult for me to get; I left, bag over my shoulder, first for Triste, then for Vienna, where I was welcomed with justified astonishment but also delight by Barbasetti, who immediately put me to the test. It was August 1895.7 The lasting impression on the Viennese fencing scene was excellent. Three months later, I was called by telegraph to be professor of fencing at the Wiener Athletiksport Club, in the process of being founded. I obtained my discharge in advance. I hurried to my family in Udine, then, with two scraps of civilian clothing, my trusty bag over my shoulder, I arrived in Vienna with a metre and a half of snow, but with my heart boiling over, happy.
I began by helping Barbasetti with private lessons, waiting for my club to settle in, as I will discuss later. Incidentally, I will mention that, almost at the same time as Barbasetti, our great Italo Santelli was called to Budapest, being already very famous, and who immediately gave a remarkable boost and a very personal imprint on fencing in Hungary, the results of which we can see!
At that time, fencing was at its height everywhere. Imagine that at the time I was in Vienna, in Budapest alone there were no less than 1,000 fencing connoisseurs, among whom distinguished personalities in politics, science, and the arts. I had the honour of having as my student in Vienna the then captain Gömbös, who was later Prime Minister of Hungary and whose manuscripts I hold dear.
Giovanni Franceschinis
*******
1 Many of the dates Franceschinis gives, particularly those early in his career, are off by a year, as in this instance. He in fact attended the school from 1890 to 1893, and his was the 5th full-length course at the Rome school.↩ 2 If Antonio Guarisco was teaching at the Milan Military College during this time, he would have been a regular military master, not a civil master. The fencing master of the Nizza cavalry at this time was most likely Ercole Baldi.↩ 3 As the name suggests, bouting masters were employed by the school purely to serve as bouting partners for the students.↩ 4 Here Franceschinis uses the racial slur negro.↩ 5 Almost correct. The masters who went were Agesilao Greco, Italo Santelli, Angelo Torricelli, and Vincenzo Drosi.↩ 6 Franceschinis graduated in July 1893. Sources differ on how many students were initially admitted to the course, but the actual figure is probably closer to 44. The number he states as graduating after third year, however, is likely correct.↩ 7 These events in fact took place in 1896, not 1895.↩
Much time has been spent on this blog over the years discussing the various controversies surrounding the Military Fencing Master's School in Rome as well as the technical details of its curriculum, but very rarely do the sources provide much insight into how those who trained at the school themselves experienced it. Decades after the closure of the school, its graduates were still among the most revered figures in Italian fencing, and thankfully a very small number of these graduates did eventually share some memories from their time at the school.
Over two posts we will be reading two first-hand accounts from graduates of the Master's School, who give their rose-tinted retrospectives on one of the most exciting and formative periods of their lives. Naturally, the fact that these were both written more than half a century after the events they recount, they should not be considered fully reliable from a factual perspective; their greatest value lies in the humanising effect of their genuine emotional insights. Nevertheless, many of the details they share can be corroborated by contemporary sources.
Both articles were published in the official magazine of the Italian Fencing Federation, then bearing the title Scherma: bollettino della F.I.S.1 This first account, appearing in the December 1955 issue, comes from Ottorino Scognamiglio, who trained at the Master's School from 1901 to 1904. Scognamiglio's account is certainly the most sentimental of the two we will be reading, perfectly capturing the youthful exuberance of the students as well as the sense of prestige that accompanied all those who successfully emerged from the school's halls.
Memories of an old master
With his 'recollections', Maestro Ottorino Scognamiglio brings us back to a distant and glorious past which cannot help but arouse deep emotion in those who saw it. How many survivors are there of those bygone courses? Of those whom Scognamiglio recalls, it seems, only two in Italy: Scognamiglio himself and Cesare De Leonibus, the founder and technical director of the most glorious Circolo della Spada in Venice, which was located in the halls of La Fenice, and from whose training emerged champions of great fame. Both are now close to eighty years old, they are...watching the new generations, perhaps shaking their heads and thinking wistfully of the old days. Dear old masters, it is with true pleasure that we publish your recollections, hoping that others follow you, glad to help you emerge from oblivion and remind us of you so that—and this is consolation for your venerable grey hair—we, young and not so young, despite the transience of time, remember you with sincere affection and commemorate your deeds and your work with admiration. And may God long preserve you in our affection.
Nine o' clock on the 15th of September 1901. The barracks at Santa Caterina a Magnanapoli, Rome. In the interior corridor of the Military Fencing Master's School, lined up in full dress, the 25 candidates for the master's course (and I among them) were introduced to the commanding captain of the student company. The famous Captain Sinopoli, the terror of the school. A 50-year-old Calabrian, moustached and stocky, with the typical complexion of his native region, his penetrating gaze and thundering voice which, after a single intense 'inspection!', began with a lyrical greeting. Changing tone, he then took great care to point out to us that we had not given him a good impression. Some of us—in his opinion—did not keep the perfect position of attention. He continued by saying that he would expect from us the utmost irreproachability—on penalty of going back to our original regiment—and finally that, where necessary—as was his system—he would be liberal in giving out punishments. The comments on this reception were rather spicy. Someone whispered: 'We get the point. How will we be able to survive three years with this Cerberus?'
The medical examination which we were subjected to later was long and meticulous. I remember that the first phalanx of my right little finger—naturally bent to the inside—caused a lively discussion between the medical officer and the school's technical director. The first considered this 'anomaly' in conflict with the perfect physical harmony required. The other maintained that that hand, with that finger, was ideal for holding the sword firmly. The director's argument prevailed and I, like all the others, were declared fit. And then appeared F. M. Berardi, our paymaster, always fatherly and sympathetic, who promptly provided each of us with the fencing equipment issued to the school's students.
The hour we had anxiously awaited finally arrived. The bell rang in the distance. Here we were in the Great Hall of the University of Fencing. The spacious fencing hall appeared festive and welcoming to our eyes. That hall where, for three long years and for a good six hours a day, we gave our entire being with almost insane enthusiasm. Our deities appeared. Here were the two vice-directors, civil masters Pecoraro and Pessina, both of average stature, stocky and moustached, open countenances, eyes gleaming. Nothing at all suggested that these two fencers were unbeatable. They were the champions of the age. Then the masters Laudati, Drosi, and Nappi with their modest and friendly appearance. Next was the group of military masters: the Mephistophelian goatee of mean Maestro Ori stood out, as well as the hairy mole of Maestro Cavalli; we noted the austere demeanour of Maestro Zane and the friendly smile of Maestro Gaudini.
The great star, the autocrat of fencing, the technical director of the school appeared. He is the honorary fencing master of the King, the author of the army's official fencing treatise, the great Masaniello Parise. He was the typical figure of an old-fashioned aristocrat. A long face with fine features and a well-groomed blond beard. Very elegant. D'Annunzio called him the King of the Sword.
The course began. The exhausting and meticulous lessons follow each other day after day. Enduring that exertion, tolerating those continual corrections, the fastidiousness of the teachers, and the rigorous observance of the rules inherent to the school's environment seriously put our nervous systems to the test. Our youthful exuberance was stifled. Humiliation, bitterness, and disappointment was our daily bread. Endure was our motto. The students of the course above urged us to not give up. The suffocating strictness of the school finally ended. The dread captain retired. Called to replace him—for a short time—was a great man, a Sardinian, Captain Alagna, who then in turn was replaced by the late Captain Alessandrini, who was able to win the affection and respect of everyone.
The 2nd year of the course began with new teachers. Civil master De Simone replaced Drosi and military masters Prampolini, Selmi, Genovesi, and Angelillo took over from masters Cavalli, Ori, Zane, and Gaudini. The fruits of the work accomplished in the previous school year were truly admirable. Compared to us, D'Artagnan, a fond delusion for us all, was a total dud.
We experienced the full glamour of Rome. The sympathy that the Romans felt towards the students of the Master's School was clear. We were welcome everywhere. In military inspections our school always aroused a special sense of admiration. To tell you the truth, the choreographic spectacle it presented was exceptional. It was a mixture of uniforms, colours, weapons, plumes, glittering helms, black bearskins, kepis, and most of all a sample of bold and daring youth that paraded impeccably. The parades in honour of the shah of Persia, the emperor of Germany, the king of England, the president of the French Republic at the time followed one another, and the ever-applauded Master's School continuously excited the public's lively curiosity. There were frequent visits by military attachés of foreign ambassadors, high-ranking personages, and foreign and Italian missions. The usual noisy spectacle of a dozen pairs of fencers fighting always aroused a sense of amazement, and then our director offered plenty of information and explanations to the attentive listeners.
We are now in the 3rd year, the finishing course, with another change of masters. The group of soldiers was substituted by the masters Abita, Bonioli, and Gandini, all three coming from the previous intake at the Master's School and previously our companions in the course above. We began to breathe more air. By now we were wiser, and in the art of coping we were peerless. Our group, unfortunately, had thinned. There were fourteen of us left.
A visit from our King was memorable. At 10 o' clock in the evening a telegram from the Quirinale announced that His Majesty would come to visit at 9 o' clock the following day. Good heavens! We all had long hair... Without delay the two barbers at the school were mobilised and...'point blank' we were shaved like prisoners. Our protests were to no avail. Someone earned themselves a few days in the guardroom for trying to escape that affront. Looking like this, and perhaps also because we were excited, His Majesty noticed that our faces were emaciated—owing, in his view, to excessive work. The following day, a medical commission captained by His Excellency Inspector General of the Army Medical Corps came to visit us. We were presented almost in birthday suits and examined individually. Conclusion: the fencing schedule was changed but not reduced, and the food was improved slightly...
What made our school exceptionally fun and pleasant on the whole was the psychological diversity that one noticed among the students of the three courses. There was no lack of amusing characters, as well as dangerous hotheads. There was a considerable number of lady-killers and also players of various instruments, renowned singers, circus gymnasts, ballet dancers, painters, impromptu poets, photographers, conjurors, jokers, and even a seller of wine by the glass. A regionalistic spirit often peeped out, but always within the appropriate limits. A gentlemanly humour predominated, and making merry was the agreement. Excursions and clandestine nocturnal outings were the order of the day, but all with happy endings. Unforgettable times!...
Mak P 100 was now approaching.2 Perfect fencing technique had been acquired. The most perfect aesthetics—not separated from powerful efficacy—were in our possession. The long-awaited and long-desired day was approaching: the day of our final exams. The day of our ordination as fencing masters. On 7 July 1904 in the fencing hall, in full regalia, the director wished to personally give us our master's diploma. Deeply moved, we listened to the customary exhortation, closed with a powerful handshake. We knew to suppress our cry of farewell, but deep in our hearts that cry was beating strong.
Dear unforgettable companions in arms, I remember you all. I still see you like I did then. I will always love you greatly, more than fraternally, like 50 years ago. Zanni, Schiavo, Galli, Canzano, Giovannelli, Coltro, Anzillotti, Altea, Tattoli—well known names in fencing—why did you leave us so soon? Voltolini, Rossi, Macrì—where are you? Dearest De Leonibus, it is to you that I dedicate these recollections of mine. You who, for 54 years, I have been bound to in sincere mutual affection. I have finished.
I put down my pen with a mindful and thankful thought for my dear late master. For Salvatore Angelillo, who in heart, science, and knowledge was 'second to none'.
Ottorino Scognamiglio
*******
1 Past issues of this magazine can be viewed for free here on the FIE's website.↩ 2 Translator's Note: 'Mak P 100' is the term, deriving from the Piedmontese dialect, given to the celebrations that take place at Italian military schools 100 days before graduation.↩
Two years ago on this blog we took an in-depth look at the 1902 editions of Masiello's treatises for foil and sabre and compared what changes were made from the first edition, published in 1887. While I remain satisfied with the thoroughness of that comparison, at the time of writing I had unfortunately not yet gained access to a copy of the 2nd edition of Masiello's sabre treatise, published in 1893. Now, thanks to the Museo delle Arti Marziali in Brescia, I am pleased to say that this gap can at last be filled. Below are scans of this 1893 edition as well as a document comparing all the changes between the various foil and sabre editions (noting again that, in contrast with sabre, there were only two editions of the foil treatise, published in 1887 and 1902).
In Masiello's preface to the 1893 edition, instead of justifying the publication of his treatise as being a response to Masaniello Parise's government-approved 1884 treatise (which he did in the 1887 edition), here he has removed all mention of Parise and the events of the previous decade, as well as throughout the rest of the treatise. He instead maintains that in this new edition, in response to the criticism he received from readers of the 1st edition, he wanted to make more explicit the foundational concepts shared by both sabre and foil, as well as provide more expansive discussions of key concepts throughout the book. Thus a significant amount of the added material in the 1893 was originally located in the foil section of the 1887 edition, which has been rearranged in a way that better suits the sabre-only nature of this publication.
The structure and order of material is the same that would be seen later in the 1902 edition, with no long historical summary and the section of mechanical discussion being broken up and distributed throughout the rest of the treatise. In two cases in the introductory discussion there are parts of the 1887 edition which disappear in the 1893, but then reappear in the 1902. In general, however, most of the large additions, such as the discussion on the guard, the lunge, and cutting mechanics were first introduced in this 1893 edition, as I had postulated in my original comparison of the 1st and 3rd editions.
Perhaps the most glaring omission in the 1893 edition is the illustrations of the various fencing positions. In his preface, Masiello states that readers are advised to consult those from the 1st edition. Yet two new illustrations are still included, these being the labelled illustration of the fencing sabre (now the newer 2nd model Masiello sabre with a perforated sheet steel guard) as well as the separate illustration of the gripping method; both of these illustrations appear in the 3rd edition a decade later, along with the new illustrations of the sabre-wielding Adonis. Thus while the 2nd and 3rd editions are very similar, the latter edition was intended for a wider audience of new and younger readers, while the former was for those already familiar with the first edition of his work. It is also worth noting that the first place that these 3rd edition illustrations appeared in print was in fact in the British Army's 1895 Infantry Sword Exercise, which is essentially a condensed version of Masiello's sabre method.
The presence of all the major changes to Masiello's method in the 2nd edition, such as the more exaggerated leaning in the molinelli and the prohibition of wrist flexion in the cuts, demonstrate that it was relatively soon after the publication of the 1st edition that Masiello began re-evaluating his views and teachings. Masiello's willingness to modify and update his method in response to his own reflections and the critique of his readership serve as a good reminder that the fencing methods we find preserved in the treatises are indeed merely a snapshot of a moment in fencing culture. The three editions of Masiello's work also reflect the active engagement of the author with the Italian fencing community, indicative of his significance within the cultural debates of the time.
If the average fencer of today knows anything at all about the Italian foil, they likely also have at least a vague awareness of the leather wrist strap that it was so commonly used with. This wrist strap is, in essence, one path in a long development of fencers seeking to improve their ability to grip the weapon, a development which also led to modern anatomic or 'pistol' grips. The wrist strap can be considered more generally as a type of ligature, known in Italian as the legatura or legaccia/legaccio, terms which in English simply mean 'binding' or 'tie'.
The ligature took many forms throughout its development, originally as a handkerchief used to conveniently bind and protect the hand in a duel or fencing bout in place of a glove in the early 19th century. By the middle of the century the ligature was an item separate from the glove, consisting of only a ribbon or strip of fabric, and was a characteristic feature of the Neapolitan school of fencing. At the dawn of the 20th century, the ligature was a popular aid throughout the whole Italian peninsula, and more and more took the form of the aforementioned leather wrist strap, which was the final development until the decline of the Italian foil in the second half of the century.
Throughout both the 19th and 20th centuries, Italian fencers were described as having a greater reliance on force, athleticism, and explosiveness than their French counterparts, and their use of ligatures formed a key part of this perception. As we will see, fencers of the French school were also not opposed to the use of gripping aids on their weapons, but it is in Italy alone that we find the ligature to be so closely woven with the development of both the weapons and the systems it was used in. Thus in order to gain a fuller understanding of the history of modern Italian fencing and its ideological debates in the 19th century, we must also understand the ligature and what it meant for those who did and did not use it.
A makeshift glove
Like many topics surrounding 19th century Italian fencing, the history of the ligature starts with Rosaroll and Grisetti's seminal 1803 treatise The Science of Fencing.1 The two authors dedicate more than eight pages to ligatures, prefaced by a discussion on the benefits of wearing a glove, which not only protects the hand against the opponent's sword, but also allows the fencer (or soldier) to grip their own sword more firmly. Rosaroll and Grisetti's binding method is able to effectively substitute the glove as they recommend using a regular handkerchief (It. fazzoletto), 'which every man carries in his pocket'.2 The convenience of this everyday object is the main reason why they prefer handkerchiefs to bands or ribbons specifically designed to be sword ligatures. In addition to reducing fatigue and wear on the hand, particularly the middle and index fingers, they also also appreciate the protection ligatures provide against disarmament, whether in battle, a duel or a fencing bout. In this respect the ligature is also a substitute for the sword knot, which was commonly used by soldiers but less likely to be found on duelling and fencing swords. The method they describe for binding the sword with a handkerchief is as follows:
Take the handkerchief by opposite corners, and keeping it almost outstretched, rotate it quickly by winding around its length so that when twisted it merely represents the diagonal of a square that it represented when unfolded. This done, let go of the corner you were holding in the left hand, holding the handkerchief in the right by the opposite corner with the ends of the thumb and middle finger. Then with the left hand wind it twice, to the outside of the fingers, around the index and middle fingers, specifically over the joints that are inserted into the ricasso of the sword. Then pass it between the middle and ring fingers, and through the inside of the latter and the little finger it shall be left hanging from the hand. Then grip the sword in the described manner (§ 40) and wind the handkerchief over the outside of the hand towards the top, so that it covers the joints of the fingers to the hand, except for the thumb, and on meeting the outside arch, pass it through there, and after tightening it strongly, cover the joint of the thumb and hand. Then wind it from inside to outside around the wrist twice, strongly tightening the grip and wrist together, always making sure to leave the pommel free. Finally, passing the handkerchief back over the hand, tie it securely to the part of the crossguard between the middle finger and the inside arch, winding it around there two or three times.3
The typical pocket handkerchiefs of today are nowhere near large enough to follow this method, and based on my own experimentation you need a handkerchief with a diagonal length of at least 100 cm (i.e. a square cloth with sides 70 cm long). For the purpose of demonstration, in the video below I give my own interpretation of Rosaroll and Grisetti's method using two 50 x 50 cm handkerchiefs tied together at the corners.
The most common feature of this and all subsequent ligatures is how they reduce the strain felt most strongly by the ring and little fingers, which for most people are too short to full enclose the straight handle on a traditional Italian foil. By securing the first two fingers and the pommel, the job of keeping the grip in line with the wrist no longer relies on the two weakest fingers of the hand. Importantly though, the firmness of the ligature should not overly hinder the movement of the sword, thus Rosaroll and Grisetti, as well as most subsequent authors, make sure to note that the handkerchief ligature should not cover or constrain the pommel of the sword. Aside from the detriments to the hand's mobility if the pommel is covered, doing so also reduces the efficacy of pommel strikes in close-measure grappling, which is something Rosaroll and Grisetti spend much time discussing but is generally forbidden in bouting by the mid-19th century (indeed if it ever was typically allowed).4
The two authors then go on to describe an additional type of ligature which they call a laccio, related to the English words 'lace' and 'lasso'; this is much less a way of fixing the hand to the sword as it is a way to make a simple sword knot using a silk lace around 8 palmi long (a bit over 200 cm). One end of the lace is fastened to the pommel, and the rest is formed into small rings, probably what is referred to in English as a sinnet knot, as Chris Holzman has suggested.5 After enough of the lace has been turned into links, a final noose is formed and tightened around the wrist, and the little finger is inserted into the last sinnet link to prevent the whole laccio from unravelling.6
Returning to the handkerchief methods, three decades later Sicilian master Blasco Florio gives his own modified version of Rosaroll and Grisetti's method in an effort to distribute the handkerchief more evenly across the hand and keep it tight for an extended period of time:
The fencer spreads the handkerchief out and holds it by one of its corners between the last two phalanges of the thumb and index finger; passing it from inside to outside over the last joint of the ring finger, leave it hanging there. Then winding it tightly from outside to inside around the middle and index fingers, at the same time separating the thumb so that only said index and middle fingers are in contact and covered, let it drop into the original position, but making sure to fold in the sides so that it ends up like a band. With this done, pass it along the inside of the middle and ring fingers, leaving it hanging all the same. In this manner, grip the sword as described in § 19, and by winding the handkerchief to the outside, pass it over the index and middle fingers, entering the outside arch and passing diagonally over the end of the middle finger, the third phalanx of the ring and little fingers, and bind them such that these parts should be covered and compressed with the handle. Continuing to turn the handkerchief, wind it around the wrist, still from outside to inside, but leaving the pommel free. Still tightening, pass it diagonally over the outside of the hand so that one side touches the outside quillon, so that the hand is fully covered and bound. If the handkerchief is long, then turn it once more around the thumb, index, and middle fingers, and then wind the end of it twice or thrice around the inside quillon, fastening it from outside to inside in such a way that it cannot become loose. Note that the corners of the handkerchief, which at the beginning of the binding were folded, should always remain this way.7
Two years after Florio's work, Niccolò Abbondati describes a method very similar to Rosaroll and Grisetti's, but now the handkerchief ligature is in addition to the glove:
This is achieved by means of a handkerchief which, held by opposite corners, is rotated along its length, so that it represents a band on the diagonal of the square that it made when unfolded. With this prepared, one of the ends is used to wrap and tighten the index and middle fingers of the right hand together, winding it twice from inside to outside; insert it between the middle and ring fingers; pass it between the latter and the little finger, and grip the sword as described in no. 1080. After this, the handkerchief is wound around the outside of the hand; insert it into the outside arch, and while freeing the thumb it is made to come diagonally over the end of the middle finger and the last phalanges of the ring and little fingers, which should end up covered and well compressed to the handle. From there it is brought to tighten the wrist, winding around this and the handle twice, leaving the pommel free; return to the back of the hand, which one should try to cover entirely, and wind the end of it around the thumb so that the ligature stays firm and is not subject to loosening.8
Despite the close association that ligatures would have with Italian fencing later on in the century, the custom of binding the hand with a handkerchief was also familiar to the French, as evidenced by the popular French duelling code by the Comte de Chatauvillard:
9. The handkerchief with which the combattant wraps their hand must not hang down; the opponent’s seconds, after making them aware, may enjoin them to remove it and make use of only a cord.
10. If it was agreed to wear fencing gloves, either one of the fencers can use it in the case the other refuses. But if only one was brought, neither should have this advantage.9
There is also something to be said for the martingale or leather loop that is attached between the guard and grip of a French foil. In essence a simplified ligature, it may have been used by some French fencers since at least the 18th century (see below). Alberto Marchionni was quite familiar with French fencing, having spent some time in France around the year 1830, and yet, according to his 1847 treatise, while '[i]n the Neapolitan school the way in which the foil is bound to the hand is considered essential', the French, on the other hand, 'do not make use of a band'. As a middle ground between Marchionni's perceptions of these two schools, he advocated for his own type of laccio, which he describes as follows:
To avoid both extremes, I thought it better to put into practice in my school a simple tape 80 cm long. The two ends sewn together represent the sword-knot. To put it into practice one only has to insert the middle finger into it, then pass it over the index finger—this is of course once one has gripped the sword or foil, whatever one wishes to call it—and then over the grip, leaving the thumb free, and then one continues to pass it always doubled between the middle and ring fingers, repeating the same turn around the aforementioned fingers and the grip, and finishing by fixing the other end to the middle finger that one started from. (See plate A, fig. 5).10
Marchionni's enlightening depiction of the laccio
The stated benefit of this type of ligature is that it provides some support to the wielder while still allowing them to easily play in close measure, something which the Neapolitan style of ligature makes very difficult.11 This ideology behind Marchionni's ligature is perfectly in keeping with the fencing system he was advocating, the 'mixed school', which argued that the most effective fencing method can be found by appropriately adopting various aspects of both the French and traditional Italian methods.12
In the following few decades detailed descriptions of Italian sword ligatures are difficult to find, with little more than passing mentions. By the time ligatures are again being discussed in a fencing context, the handkerchief is almost never mentioned, having ceded its place to specialised ribbons and straps. The reasons why the traditional handkerchief ligature fell out of favour are yet unclear. The transition to other materials may have coincided with other developments in fencing equipment, such as specialised fencing gloves, which would render the protection provided by the handkerchief superfluous. The shift may also have simply coincided with a change in men's fashion, in that it became less common to carry around a large handkerchief. As this lies well outside my expertise and the scope of this article, I shall say only that more research on this area is needed.
Specialisation of the ligature
Although specialised ligatures were known to Rosaroll and Grisetti right at the beginning of the 19th century (see above), handkerchiefs were more easily able to protect the weapon hand in lieu of a glove. Handkerchiefs saw continued use in duels throughout the 19th century, and they were still mentioned in duelling codes well into the 20th century.13 The duelling codes of Alberto Marchionni and Cesare Enrichetti, published in 1863 and Luigi De Rosis, published 1868, allow duellists to make use of a fencing glove and to additionally bind the sword with a handkerchief, whether they are using swords or sabres.14 While the latter author mentions the ligature as an alternative to the handkerchief, Achille Angelini considered the former as an addition to a fencing glove or handkerchief wrapped around the wrist, and only permissible 'in exceptional circumstances' and when both parties agree.15
Within a pure fencing context, however, the protection afforded by a handkerchief was likely not as valuable when a proper fencing glove was easily at hand, resulting in a rise in the popularity of ligatures using ribbon, fabric tape or string. An early and unambiguous reference to a specialised ligature for use in fencing is given by the French amateur the Baron de Bazancourt. Bazancourt describes his experience fencing the Neapolitan master Luigi Parise, who when fencing would typically use a dagger in his left hand or the hand itself to parry his opponent's sword. As a response to French fencers who argued they should be able to parry with the left hand (as it was customary among fencers of 'the old Italian school' such as Parise), Bazancourt responds with the challenge that 'you should admit all the precepts of that school, and then you will at least be logical.' According to him, the typical Italian fencer equips themselves like so:
Your sword will have a long heavy blade, broad and perfectly rigid; the hilt will be surmounted by a little cross-bar of steel on which you will place your fingers, and to which you will attach them with a long ribbon; incidentally you will do away with the freedom of the hand, the supple action of the wrist and the niceties of finger play.16
Given that Luigi Parise was imprisoned following the revolutions of 1848, where he subsequently died, Bazancourt's account shows that specialised ligatures were considered typical (at least for Neapolitans) since at least the 1840s.17 It is not until the 1880s, however, that we find the only detailed descriptions of making the ligature with a ribbon or cloth band. By far the most useful descriptions coincidentally come from Luigi Parise's more famous nephew, Masaniello, who provides us with three variations:
They once used the silk handkerchief which was worn on the collar like a cravat. Later they introduced the use of narrow bands of fabric, a metre and a half long, folded at one end to make a ring, into which the one may insert the index finger, or as others do, the middle finger. Having done this, and gripped the sword in the manner described in § 4, the ligature is passed between the ring and middle fingers, and continuing over the handle, one winds it in a spiral direction around the back of the hand and wraps it around the wrist once, passing under the pommel, and above for the other times; after this, one returns to the handle on the inside of the hand and inserts it into the right arch, going back into there a second time by passing between the middle and ring fingers, so as to render the sword secure in the hand. What is left of the end of the ligature is wound around the little finger, passing to the outside of the four fingers. Many fencers use the ligature in this manner in order to not waste a lot of time freeing the sword; but others prefer to do the inverse: that is, after inserting the index or middle finger into the ring of the ligature, they grip the sword and start binding it by passing it into the right arch twice, and then over the back of the hand, the wrist, etc. There is a third method which is also good. The pommel of the sword is inserted into the ring of the ligature; this is then passed around the wrist several times to keep the pommel fixed; then it is passed twice into the right arch, and the rest is wound around the little finger. Whichever of the three methods one binds the sword with, the result will be the same.18
Aside from protecting against disarmament, Parise states that the ligature reduces hand fatigue, allows for more strength to be employed in attacks and parries, gives more suppleness to the muscles of the hand and arm, and also provides slightly more protection to the hand and wrist. Just four years after Parise we find another description of a ligature, here from Sicilian master Antonino Guglielmo:
First of all, you must equip yourself with a [ribbon?] two metres long, wind it twice around the index finger, and turn it around the hand until the fingers are covered with seven parts of it, the rest is tied to the outside arch. Secondly, you should note that this ligature should leave all the muscles of the hand free such that, in tightening it, movement is not impeded, and the hand does not go numb. Thirdly, take care not to bind and cover the pommel of the sword, otherwise it will not be possible to articulate the feints.19
It appears that the intention behind Guglielmo's method is to more or less cover the hand with the ligature, thus a wider and thinner ribbon would likely achieve a better result than what my video demonstrates. Given that both Parise and Guglielmo only mention the required length of the ligature, the material, its thickness, and its width were likely a matter of personal preference and were dependent on what was easily available.
Armed with these and likely many other methods, Italian fencers soon began travelling the Western World, dazzling crowds from Chicago to St. Petersburg. The Italian foil and of course the ligature were common points of fascination for many, as seen in one article from 1886 New York Times describing a newly arrived Neapolitan fencer:
Signor Enrico Casella, a distinguished Italian swordsman, has arrived in New-York. He fences in very handsome style according to the fashion of Naples, of which city he is a native. The Neapolitan fencers have retained certain old methods, which have gone out in France and elsewhere in Italy, of binding the hand securely to the handle of the foil, using for that purpose a long tape or a handkerchief. Signor Casella uses a foil no longer in the blade than the French masters, differing in that from the old Neapolitan school, but his weapon has a bell-shaped guard and a transverse bar underneath it, upon which the first two fingers close. The foil and the arm become one piece, and it becomes impossible to perform on him the tricks of disarming which some fencers enjoy.20
The clearest image of a ligature I have found so far is a photo on Gallica of Aurelio Greco in 1913, seen below, in which a dark, slightly glossy ribbon roughly 15 to 20 mm wide can be seen running from crossguard of the foil and over Aurelio's wrist. Mimiague on the right also has a martingale mounted on his French foil.
One other (less clear) photo from 1901 shows Athos di San Malato holding an early Italian épée with what looks to be a simple string binding his hand to the weapon. The ligature is less commonly seen on épées during the 20th century, partly because for this weapon in particular many Italians preferred the French grip over the Italian.
While ribbon and string ligatures continue to appear occasionally throughout the first half of the 20th century, the last somewhat useful description comes in 1929 from the Argentinian master Horacio Levene, who characterised it more as an outdated method belonging to previous generations of fencers:
Gradually, the custom of strongly tying the weapon to the hand has been lost, with long strips of cloth which, after gripping the crossguard, secured the fingers, passing over the hand and finished by being wound a few times around the wrist or going back to the hand, causing the rest to disappear between the fingers, etc. With the ligature it is possible to grip the sword with more force, to better secure the weapon to the hand, and to consequently give greater control and resistance to the parries. Among the usual ligatures, there was one which, taking the pommel with the long strip, was wrapped around the wrist, and passing over the hand and taking one side of the crossguard, the excess is lost by wrapping the index finger in the hollow of the hand.21
Levene then goes on to describe the type of ligature that had become more popular by that point and remained so for the rest of the Italian foil's reign on the international stage: the leather wrist strap. Before we examine this final development, however, it is worth taking a closer look at how ligatures were perceived in Italy and the divisive debates around when, if at all, they should be used.
An object of scorn
Even before the particularly heated ideological debates which characterise the last few decades of the 19th century, the question of to bind or not to bind was divisive. For some the ligature symbolised the preservation of pure Italian fencing in the face of foreign, predominantly French, influence; for others, binding the sword was at best unnecessary and at worst a pernicious vice.
The sword method of Genoese master Paolo De Scalzi, writing in the middle of the 19th century, shows much in common with the traditional southern Italian masters; his comments regarding the ligature, on the other hand, are more in line with the views of Alberto Marchionni and the mixed school, which we touched on earlier. De Scalzi explicitly calls out Rosaroll and Grisetti for their preoccupation with the ligature, remarking that 'even the most renowned men can sometimes stumble!'. In his view, students should not become accustomed to using a ligature in case they find themselves in a situation where using it is impracticable, such as in combat. He does however advocate the use of sword knots, as they allow the wielder to quickly release the weapon from the hand.22 Aside from what we have seen so far, most Italian authors outside the southern provinces are remarkably silent on the ligature until later in the century, which could be an indication of its rarity in day-to-day practice there.
Luigi Zangheri, a fencing master who taught in Bologna, also advocated using an Italian foil without a ligature. Mounted with a blade shorter than that advocated by the Neapolitans, this allowed him and his students to execute certain 'French' techniques that a ligature renders difficult or impossible, such as an angulated parry of 1st or the coupé in close measure. The fencing method he taught was otherwise relatively traditional, identifiable with what most Neapolitans were teaching, and yet his opposition to using ligatures would eventually, after his death, lead his pedagogical descendants to sympathise more at times with the mixed school, although never quite identifying themselves as members of it. Zangheri's most famous student, Cesare Enrichetti, ensured that this tradition continued to flourish for the rest of the century.23 With these two traditions predominating in Northern Italy—Zangheri's school and the mixed school proper—the ligature retained its Neapolitan association and the scepticism of Northern Italians.
Following Italian unification, the government began a programme of training its own fencing masters for the army as part of a greater military reform process. One unintended consequence of this was that the ideological grievances between the various fencing systems that existed in Italy took on a more national importance, as the system that the Ministry of War selected to be propagated among the soldiers of Italy would earn the right to truly be called 'Italian'. From 1874 the sole method officially sanctioned by the Italian military was the method of Giuseppe Radaelli, who taught foil fencing according to the 'half-Italian' or mixed school.24
Two mixed-school foils from the Agorà della Scherma in Busto Arsizio.
As the young military fencing masters graduating from Radaelli's school became more numerous and prominent in the national fencing scene, advocates of the Neapolitan school became increasingly vocal in their disapproval of Radaelli's system, which they characterised as neither French nor Italian.25 With the death of Radaelli in 1882, the opportunity presented itself for the Ministry of War to look for a new, more 'Italian' method; as chance would have it, the fencing treatise that was eventually selected by the commission to be the new official textbook for Italian fencing was that of Neapolitan master Masaniello Parise.26
When this treatise was published in 1884, a report on the commission's deliberations was included in the book, in which we read that there had been a particularly 'lively disagreement' around the topic of the ligature. Since the form of the weapon was by now, in the minds of many, inextricably linked to the fencing method itself, very early in the commission's deliberations (indeed before even looking at any of the treatises submitted to the competition) the members all came to the agreement that only the Neapolitan foil had the right to be considered a 'real sword', and thus since the Neapolitan foil had been selected, it was only logical that a Neapolitan method also be chosen.27
In their fervent effort to maximise the apparent Italianness of the official fencing method, the members of the commission made the Neapolitan foil inviolable; thus when some of the other submissions provide possible modifications to the grip, such as that offered by Giordano Rossi's curved handle, they are all strongly rejected.28 By removing the possibility of modifying the weapon, many in the commission then felt it was necessary that use of the ligature be made a foundational aspect to the instruction of foil fencing, with some even going so far as to claim that 'without the ligature, a Neapolitan fencer suffers to the point of no longer being themselves at all.'29
A comparison of the traditional Italian grip (left) with Rossi's curved grip (right). Note the ability for the last two fingers to obtain a better purchase on the handle.
Although the commission eventually settled on a compromise of omitting ligatures in the early stages of training, leaving it to individual choice once students begin bouting, the association of the ligature with the Neapolitan-cum-Italian foil remained a contentious issue, particularly for the recently defeated Radaellian camp. The Radaellians were able to recognise that continued use of the mixed foil had become untenable in the nationalist fervour of 1880s fencing discourse, and thus its most prominent representatives also by-and-large switched to using the traditional Italian foil. What they would not concede, however, was that use of a ligature was at all necessary. Instead of focusing on the 'half-Italian' school of their master, Radaellians often chose to amplify the Zangheri tradition, which through Enrichetti's students had become interwoven with the development of Radaellian fencing.30 The most famous representative of his Radaelli-Enrichetti merger was Ferdinando Masiello, who openly acknowledged the flaws of his colleagues in the early years, but maintained that it was they who bore the torch of progress in Italy, and not the traditionalist Neapolitans:
Please forgive us, classicists of the ligature and of weakness, enemies of the coupé and precision—our flaws are mere blemishes; and our system was already greatly superior technically and practically to [the Neapolitan].31
Radaellian master Salvatore Arista echoed Masiello's associating the ligature with weakness, and also tapped into this renovated Radaelli-Enrichetti brand. In 1888 he observed how the Neapolitans insisted on adhering to tradition for the sake of tradition, thereby 'sacrificing efficacy for custom and elegance' predominately through their use of the ligature, which he considered 'a convenient but also effeminate habit'.32 Despite continued Radaellian backlash and the desire of some in the community to ban ligatures altogether from tournaments, their use was spreading.33 The influence of Neapolitan master Masaniello Parise at the Rome Fencing Master's School likely played a large part in increasing general acceptance for the ligature in Italy, and eventually the act of binding the sword ceased to be seen as a purely Neapolitan custom, becoming simply Italian.
By the start of the 20th century the ligature was no longer an object which prompted heated debate, even if the stance of the Radaelli-Enrichetti faction had not wavered. In 1907 one member of this camp was still repeating the line taken by his colleagues 20 years ago in calling the ligature 'a manifest effeminacy' which permanently inhibits a student's progression in fencing.34 Nevertheless, this was now the minority position. Around the same time as these remarks, a Milanese author expressed their disappointment that Rossi's modified grip was not better appreciated by their fellow fencers, and was compelled to acknowledge that 'most fencers, even famous ones, secure the foil to the wrist with a leather strap or ligature'.35
The shift to straps and gradual decline
Much as the handkerchief made way for the ligature with a ribbon or cord, this in turn diminished in popularity in favour of the leather wrist strap or 'belt' (It. cinturino or cinghietto). Again it is difficult to say when it appeared on the scene, as few sources make a clear distinction in terminology between it and the regular ribbon ligature. In the aforementioned commission report contained in Masaniello Parise's 1884 treatise, there is mention of a 'ring for threading to the wrist' as a less involved ligature method, which may be referring to an early type of wrist strap.36 There are several more hints such as these from the 1890s, especially as foreign commentators begin taking more notice of Italian fencing.
In 1894 the public of New York had the rare opportunity to witness a masterclass of Italian fencing as represented by masters Carlo Pessina, Agesilao Greco, and Eugenio Pini. Among the many comparisons the reporter makes between these 'flamboyant' Italians and the classical French school, which Americans were more accustomed to, he makes a note of the peculiar way they used their foils and the various ways they were bound:
Observe the foils of the Italians. Although they have given up almost everywhere the very long foil, direct descendant of the old long rapier, they still cling to the bell-shaped guard and crossbar underneath. Over this bar they hook the index finger. Not content with the solidity of grasp thus gained, they still resort to the ribbon or strap to fasten the hilt to the hand. In Naples some fencers bandage the hand to the sword grasp before a bout with as much care and ceremony as a Hindoo binds his turban round his head. The roving masters did not always use the strap or ribbon in New York; but sometimes, if about to fence with a muscular man, they passed a strap round the wrist and the lower part of the handle.37
Even if this 'strap' here is not the same as the specialised item that was so prevalent in subsequent decades, it is easy to see how the more elaborate binding methods could be simplified for the sake of expediency and be limited to only fastening the lower end of the grip to the wrist.38 A clearer example is found in the treatise of Austrian master Gustav Ristow, who differentiates the traditional ligature methods and wrist straps and touches on the debates we saw in the previous section:
Binding the foil is an antiquated practice that is still prevalent in Southern Italy especially; it is done by means of a strap (Riemen) or band in various ways, more or less simple, but always with the aim of maintaining lightness in gripping the foil and preventing cramping like fatigue in the fingers. Opinions with regard to binding the foil are divided; we declare ourselves opposed to it, since it causes considerable disadvantages as a mechanical aid in place of the spontaneous and natural gripping method, but we would recommend the use of a simple strap around the wrist and the upper end of the grip for the purpose of avoiding an excessive displacement of the point from the line in certain exchanges in the bout.39
A reduced focus on the more involved ribbon ligatures may also be reflected in a German translation of Masaniello Parise's treatise, carried out by Jacob Erkrath-De Bary and Arturo Gazzera. The latter was a graduate of Parise's Military Fencing Master's School, but instead of accurately translating Parise's detailed methods of using a ligature, this section is condensed to barely more than a footnote, stating that there are 'a number of ways to bind the foil', and that while the method using a metre and a half of ribbon is common in Italy, 'more and more they are being replaced by a small strap (Riemchen), which is fastened around the wrist and over the pommel of the foil.'40
Maestro Francesco Tagliabò assists Helene Mayer with her wrist strap. Observing on the right is Erwin Casmir.
As with the move from handkerchiefs to ribbons, it is difficult to pinpoint why the wrist strap gained more favour among Italian fencers when it did. Intuitively, the wrist strap is much less hassle to deal with in between bouts: the strap only needs to be put on at the start of training and removed at the end, whereas the ligature has to be tied and untied after each bout. A simple strap also requires little explanation for a beginner to use immediately, while the ribbon methods can look quite daunting to the uninitiated. Particularly for those who had only recently been introduced to the Italian foil, such as those outside Italy, the wrist strap may have helped reduce the barrier to entry for newcomers (not to mention children). A change in general training habits and the increasing frequency of competitions may have also played a part here; again, more research is needed.
Nevertheless, a focus on binding only at the wrist seems to have been enough for many, as the strap gradually emerged as the more popular option early in the 20th century. Although I consider the wrist strap as merely a subtype of the ligature, it must be noted that sources generally differentiate between the two, with 'ligature' referring only to a loose ribbon that is wrapped around the hand and/or pommel, while the wrist strap served to secure the pommel alone. So in contrast to the earliest handkerchief bindings (and even some later ligature methods which allow the pommel to remain free, to varying degrees), depending on its exact form the wrist strap can cover and restrict much of the pommel's movement. The uptake of straps can therefore be seen as the third evolution in the function Italian and Italianate fencers expected from their ligatures.
The famous Aldo Nadi demonstrates in his writings how reliance on the wrist strap could make it as much a part of how the Italian foil was wielded as its rings and crossguard were. In his 1948 treatise On Fencing he writes for an American audience who, if they had any knowledge about foil fencing, would have been far more familiar with the French school. Thus he not only provides the most detailed advice of any author so far on how to wear a wrist strap, but refers to the strap several times throughout the book in a way that makes it an almost integral part of his fencing method. He notes at various points how the wrist strap plays a prominent role in multiplying the strength of the hand, as utilised most often in beats and parries:
The handle is bound to the wrist by a leather strap about one inch wide which insures a strength and firmness of grip that simply cannot exist in the French foil. More important, it lightens the burden of the fingers, thus permitting most of their effort to be employed in directing the point (offense). Furthermore, the strap increases effectively the power of the parry (defense).41
Aldo Nadi (left) with his wrist strap poses with Philippe Cattiau (right)
Nadi provides the helpful suggestion that the wrist should be wrapped 'with a strip of thin linen about one yard long and three inches wide', tight enough to be snug but not cutting off blood circulation, which mitigates the abrasion caused by the pressure of the strap. For the same purpose Giorgio Rastelli recommends moistened gauze and William Gaugler an elastic bandage.42 Nadi continues to say that the strap should be tightened snugly over the glove, as close to the hand as possible, but without impeding any movement. Once the pommel is inserted through the strap, it should protrude by 'no less than three-quarters of an inch, and no more than one inch.' Despite the point of contact being localised to the pommel, Nadi considered the wrist strap method to be far superior to some ligature methods in terms of allowing pommel movement:
Some of our fencers prefer to bandage the wrist, the whole handle and pommel tightly together, outside the glove, as a substitute for the strap. Thus, they almost completely prevent the free movement of the pommel. As this freedom is essential in practically all fencing actions, I forbid this way of securing the weapon to the hand.43
I must thank Christopher Holzman for his assistance in explaining how to use this strap in the intended manner. The style of strap used in the above video is still sold through Uhlmann Fencing, but photos and catalogues show simpler versions being used throughout the 20th century where the pommel is merely placed under the strap rather than through a loop. After the invention of velcro in the 50s, this material was also used by some manufacturers to make wrist straps.
From the 1975 Santelli Fencing Equipment catalogue. Velcro wrist straps of various colours are shown on the left page, in the photograph labelled 80V. (Source: Fencing Arms & Artifacts)
Despite the strong preference for straps voiced by some authors, the traditional ribbon ligature remained in use for most of the century, at least as long as the Italian foil was still used competitively. In the footage below, Olympic medalist Aldo Aureggi can be seen untying a ligature after his bout with Renzo Nostini (from the 5:00 timestamp). The latter was also known to use a cloth ligature in competitions, being described as being a metre long, 1.5 cm wide, and which he 'passed between index finger and the palm of the hand, tying it around the pommel'.44
Nostini (left) with his foil ligature still attached after a bout with Edoardo Mangiarotti (centre).
Maestro Giancarlo Toràn of Busto Arsizio recalls the twilight period of the Italian foil as he experienced it in the 1970s:
As for me, I used the leather strap, as many did, during the period I was competing as an amateur, from 1969 to 1975, and after. Later (after about 10 years, more or less) it was banned. In the same period the Italian foil (with the crossguard) was dying out. But there were still fencers who utilised it: some with a strap, others with a long ribbon which they wound around the wrist in various ways.45
Toràn believes that it is possible some high-level fencers were still using ligatures in the 80s, but by then it was certainly extremely rare. Over the several decades of overlap between the invention of anatomic grips and the use of wrist straps, it is even possible to spot instances where both an anatomic grip and a wrist strap are used. This seems to have been more common in épée than foil, simply because anatomic grips were more commonly accepted for the former weapon, at least in Italy, than for the latter.46
Today the wrist strap lives on in some niches of classical fencing, but the ultimate aim of ligatures is largely fulfilled in the design of modern anatomic grips. While this marks the end of the Italian sword ligature, before concluding I will give an appendix of sorts for another aspect to sword bindings that is often overlooked, which is their application for French foils.
French ligatures
Given the various methods of sword binding we have seen used on the Italian peninsula, it should not be surprising that similar expedients were not confined by political boundaries. Although not typically referred to as ligatures, the use by French foilists of martingales and thongs should be considered in the same category. As we saw earlier, using a handkerchief to wrap the hand was likely customary among some French duellists in the first half of the 19th century. A 'cord' is given as the alternative to a handkerchief binding in the Comte de Chatauvillard's duelling code (see quote above), suggesting that other methods of securing the sword to the fencer's body were widely known.
The martingale is the most common type of ligature associated with French foils today. Fencing master Gomard in his 1845 foil treatise traces the origins of martingale use in fencing halls to the late 18th century, specifically due to the talents of one Comte de Bondy, a talented fencer who in the 1790s was considered in the same class as the famous Chevalier de Saint-Georges. De Bondy was able to parry with such force that his opponents had to begin using martingales when fencing him to prevent their foil colliding with spectators when disarmed. The martingale which Gomard describes, 'a small silk or cord strap' attached to the guard of the foil, would still be familiar to many fencers today, although leather is more commonly seen in the 20th century.47
Two roughly mid-19th century French foils equipped with leather guards and martingales. From the Agorà della Scherma in Busto Arsizio.
The popularity of the martingale received an artificial boost in the Olympic era after the foundation of the International Fencing Federation, who since at least the 1930s mandated the use of a martingale when the foil was not otherwise attached to the hand.48 Italian ligatures and wrist straps would already satisfy this requirement, so the Federation's rule may have in fact further entrenched the traditional Italian binding methods as well as the French.
While not providing much protection against the grip coming loose from the hand, by preventing disarms the martingale is closer to the sword knot in its utility, but some additional leverage can still be produced in forceful blade actions. The martingale may be long enough to only permit the first two fingers to be inserted, or it may even allow all four fingers to be wrapped, as in the example below.49
One alternative that some fencers made use of to satisfy the FIE's requirements is what Albert Manley called the 'thong'. This is a simple loop of cord separate from the foil that is placed over the grip in the palm of the hand, thus achieving a similar purpose to the martingale.50
When foil scoring was electrified in the 1950s, the body wire which attaches to the guard was considered a sufficient alternative to the martingale or thong, and this would no doubt have reduced their popularity. The French grip eventually suffered a similar fate as the Italian grip, at least at the top competitive levels, and declined in use in the second half of the century; yet unlike the Italian grip it is still found in many, if not most, clubs around the world today due to its versatility and ease of use, at least in the early stages of training. While martingales and thongs of the French foil did not have the distinctive influence on the weapon's progression that we have seen with the Italian foil, their basic functionality rightly places them in the category of ligatures.
Conclusion
Among the many distinguishing features of Italian foil fencing, the widespread use of ligatures is one of its more curious and unique developments. From its somewhat humble origin as an ersatz glove in the first half of the 19th century, the ligature soon differentiated itself to become an essential piece of the Neapolitan arsenal by the 1840s. Those who used the ligature lauded its ability to amplify the virtues of the Neapolitan sword and the fencer themselves, while its opponents saw it as a marker of weakness, as a tacit acknowledgement of the weapon's flaws, and the result of stubborn traditionalism. By the time the ligature reached its final and most popular form in the wrist strap at the turn of the 20th century, the practice of binding the foil was closely linked with Italian fencing as a whole.
So ingrained and clearly beneficial was the ligature to its users that it saw the Italian foil be preferred even above anatomic grips for many decades, only seeing clear decline after the weapon's electrification in the 1950s. Throughout this whole time in which Italian ligatures were in use, French fencers also found it convenient to secure the foil to the hand; when attachments were mandated for foil in the 20th century, ligatures became an everyday object even for French foilists. It is then somewhat remarkable how quickly this simple tool disappeared from fencing halls. If anything, this demonstrates that the practicality of anatomic grips, at least with respect to the foil, addresses the same aim that was sought after in the ligature. Perhaps it could be said that the final, true successor to the foil ligature is in fact the anatomic grip.
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1 Giuseppe Rosaroll-Scorza and Pietro Grisetti, La scienza della scherma (Milan: Stamperia Del Giornale Italico, 1803).↩ 2 Ibid., 34. It is possible that these authors also had in mind the silk cravat commonly worn around the neck at the time.↩ 3 Ibid., 34–5.↩ 4 See Blasco Florio, La scienza della scherma (Catania: Tipografia del R. Ospizio di Beneficienza, 1844), 129–32; Benedetto Sernicoli, Breve e succinta istruzione intorno alla scherma per uso della guardia civica (Rome: Tipografia Monaldi, 1847), 25.↩ 5 Christopher Holzman, introduction to The Science of Fencing, by Giuseppe Rosaroll-Scorza and Pietro Grisetti, trans. Christopher Holzman (Wichita, KS: self-pub., 2018), xxvii–xxxviii.↩ 6 Rosaroll-Scorza and Grisetti, Scienza della scherma, 36–8.↩ 7 Florio, Scienza della scherma, 82–3.↩ 8 Niccolò Abbondati, Istituzione di arte ginnastica per le truppe di fanteria di S. M. Siciliana (Naples: Reale Tipografia Militare, 1846), 227–8.↩ 9 Comte de Chatauvillard, Essai sur le duel (Paris: Bohaire, 1836), 29. This duelling code also saw use in Italy, receiving an Italian translation in 1864. See Conte di Chatauvillard, Codice del duello, trans. Eugenio Torelli (Naples: Stabilimento Tipografico del Plebiscito, 1864).↩ 10 Alberto Marchionni, Trattato di scherma sopra un nuovo sistema di giuoco misto di scuola italiana e francese (Florence: Tipi di Federigo Bencini, 1847), 186.↩ 11 Ibid., 231–2.↩ 12 Ibid., 62.↩ 13 See Jacopo Gelli, Codie cavalleresco italiano, 15th ed. (Milan: Ulrico Hoepli, 1926), 74–5.↩ 14 Alberto Marchionni and Cesare Errichetti, Norme sui duelli e attribuzioni dei padrini (Florence: Tipografia di P. Fioretti, 1863), 13–4; Luigi de Rosis, Codice italiano sul duello (Naples: Fratelli de Angelis, 1868), 35–6; 43–4.↩ 15 Achille Angelini, Codice cavalleresco italiano (Florence: Tipografia di G. Barbèra, 1883), 105–6.↩ 16 Baron de Bazancourt, Secrets of the Sword, trans. C. F. Clay (London: George Bell, 1900), 165–8.↩ 17 Masaniello Parise, dedication in Trattato teorico-pratico della scherma di spada e sciabola (Rome: Tipografia Nazionale, 1884).↩ 18 Parise, Trattato teorico-pratico, 219–20.↩ 19 Antonino Guglielmo, Sunto ed innovazioni sulla scherma di spada e di sciabola (Messina: Tipi Caporal Fracassa, 1888), 13–4.↩ 20 "A Neapolitan fencer," New York Times, 14 March 1886, 14.↩ 21 Horacio Levene, Teoria de la esgrima (Buenos Aires: Talleres Gráficos G. Garbo, 1929), 9–10.↩ 22 Paolo De Scalzi, La scuola della spada, 2nd ed. (Genoa: Tipografia e Litografia di L. Pellas, 1853), 29–30.↩ 23 Salvatore M. Arista, Del progresso della scherma in Italia: considerazioni sull'impianto della nuova scuola magistrale per l'esercito fondata in Roma nel 1884 (Bologna: Società Tipografica già Compositori, 1884), 6–7.↩ 24 Settimo Del Frate, Istruzione per la scherma di punta di Giuseppe Radaelli professore di scherma e ginnastica scritta d'ordine del Ministero della Guerra (Milan: Litografia Gaetano Baroffio, 1872), 1.↩ 25 See Achille Angelini, Osservazioni sul maneggio della sciabola secondo il metodo Redaelli (Florence: Tipi dell'Arte della Stampa, 1877); Luigi Forte, Sul metodo di scherma Redaelli: lettera critica diretta al signor Ferdinando Masiello maestro di scherma all'Accademia di Torino (Catania: Tipografia C. Galàtola, 1878); Giuseppe Perez, Il sistema di spada Radaelli giudicato dall'arte della scherma (Verona: Prem. Stab. Tip. di Gaetano Franchini, 1878).↩ 26 Masaniello Parise, Trattato teorico pratico della scherma di spada e sciabola: preceduto da un cenno storico sulla scherma e sul duello (Rome: Tipografia Nazionale, 1884).↩ 27 Paulo Fambri, "Relazione" in Masaniello Parise, Trattato teorico pratico della scherma di spada e sciabola: preceduto da un cenno storico sulla scherma e sul duello (Rome: Tipografia Nazionale, 1884), ix–x.↩ 28 Ibid., xii–xiii. While commission's report does not refer to Giordano Rossi or any other submission by name aside from Parise, it is clear that the grip with 'curvature towards the left that the axis of the pommel' is referring to Rossi's design. For more detail on his modified grip, see Rossi, Manuale teorico-pratico per la scherma di spada e sciabola con cenni storici sulle armi e sulla scherma e principali norme pel duello (Milan: Fratelli Dumolard Editori, 1885), 17–9.↩ 29 Fambri, "Relazione" in Parise, Trattato teorico pratico della scherma, xxi.↩ 30 Arista, Del progresso della scherma in Italia, 6–7; Carlo Pilla, Arte e scuole di scherma: conferenza tenuta alla Società bolognese di scherma nel febbraio 1886 (Bologna: Società Tipografica già Compositori, 1886), 34–6; Ferdinando Masiello, La scherma italiana di spada e di sciabola (Florence: Stabilimento Tipografico G. Civelli, 1887), 126–30.↩ 31 Masiello, La scherma italiana, 135.↩ 32 Salvatore Arista, "Quattro parole sulla scherma," Don Giovanni, 23 February 1888, 59.↩ 33 See VIII congresso ginnastico italiano: regolamenti e programmi (Turin: Tipografia Subalpina di Stefano Marino), 19; Giuseppe Nini, Torneo internazionale di scherma Genova 16-24 Giugno 1892: Relazione della giuria (Genoa, Tipografia del R. Istituto Sordo-Muti, 1892), 37–8.↩ 34 Saverio Cerchione, "Metodo Nazionale di Scherma con arma unica," Gazzetta dello Sport, 15 April 1907, 5.↩ 35 Primo Tiboldi, La scherma di fioretto (Milan: Casa Editrice Sonzogno, 1905), 5.↩ 36 Fambri, "Relazione" in Parise, Trattato teorico pratico della scherma, xxii.↩ 37 Charles de Kay, "French and Italian Swordsmen: School of Parries and School of Touches," Harper's Weekly, 24 March 1894, 287.↩ 38 Note the focus on the wrist in Arthur Lynch, "French and Italian Schools of Fence: The Vogue Among Amateurs in Paris," Outing, March 1902, 677; Tiboldi, Scherma di fioretto, 5.↩ 39 Gustav Ristow, Die moderne Fechtkunst: Methodisce Anleitung zum Unterrichte im Fleuret- und Säbelfechten nebst einem Anhange, enthaltend die wichtigsten Duellregeln (Prague: Josef Koch, 1896), 43.↩ 40 Masaniello Parise, Das Fechten mit Degen und Säbel, trans. Arturo Gazzera and Jacob Erckrath-de Bary (Offenbach am Main: self-pub., [1905]), 98–9.↩ 41 Aldo Nadi, On Fencing (Sunrise, FL: Laureate Press, 1994), 44–5.↩ 42 Giorgio Rastelli, Scherma, 3rd ed. (Milan: Sperling & Kupfer, 1950), 159; William M. Gaugler, The Science of Fencing: A Comprehensive Training Manual for Master and Student; Including Lesson Plans for Foil, Sabre and Épée Instruction (Bangor, Maine: Laureate Press, 1999), 5.↩ 43 Nadi, On Fencing, 42.↩ 44 Renzo Nostini, Scherma di fioretto (Rome: Edizioni Mediterranee, 1979), 20.↩ 45 Giancarlo Toràn, email message to author, 21 July 2024.↩ 46 One example can be found in Enciclopedia Italiana di scienze, lettere ed arti (1936), vol. 31, s.v. "scherma," plate VI, fig. 13.↩ 47 Gomard [A. J. J. Possellier], L'Escrime enseignée par une méthode simple basée sur l'observation de la nature [...], (Paris: Librairie Militaire de J. Dumaine, 1845), 14–5. See also Eugène Desmedt, La science de l'escrime (Brussels: Imprimerie Veuve Monnom, 1888), 39; Émile André, Manuel théorique et pratique d'escrime (fleuret, épée, sabre) (Paris: Garnier Frères, 1896), 451.↩ 48 Fédération Internationale d'Escrime, Procès-Verbal extrait du Compte Rendu Sténographique du Congrès tenu les 9 et 10 février 1934 (Brussels: Imprimerie F. Van Buggenhoudt), 1934, 21–2; "Fédération Internationale d'Escrime," L'Escrime et le Tir, November 1937, 13–9.↩ 49 Henry de Silva, Fencing: The Skills of the Game (Ramsbury, UK: Crowood Press, 2002), 10–11.↩ 50 Albert Manley, Complete Fencing (London: Robert Hale, 1979), 64–5.↩
