Italian foil blade length in the 19th century

Foil fencing equipment from Enrichetti (1871).
Source: KU Leuven

When comparing a French and Italian foil as they are commonly made today, it is solely the hilt which differentiates them. Until the turn of the 20th century, however, many considered blade length to be another key differentiating feature for both schools, with the Italians said to prefer the longer variety. How significant an effect these differing preferences alone had on the fencing is an interesting topic in itself, but for this particular study I will be focusing solely on determining exactly what blade lengths were used and recommended in Italy during the 19th century. The majority of this information comes to us now through fencing treatises, which cannot always be assumed to reflect the opinions of most fencers at the time. They are nevertheless often indicative of what experienced practitioners considered ideal in a doctrinal or traditional sense.

Before consulting the treatises, it is worth first providing a reference frame for readers so that any subsequent comparisons can be put into context. Today in Olympic fencing, as regulated by the International Fencing Federation (FIE), blade length from guard to point cannot not exceed 90 cm.¹ Foil blades at or near enough to this limit are now ubiquitous among adult fencers in competitions. This largest size blade is known as a size 5 blade; the modern blade size numbering was popularised by the French, and is now based off British imperial inches. A size 5 blade measures around 35.4 inches (89.9 cm), and each smaller size takes off one inch, so a size 4 blade is 34.4 inches (87.6 cm), all the way down to size 0, which is 30.4 inches or 77.5 cm.² These smaller sizes are mainly reserved for children today.

Foil dimensions for international competitions
Source: fie.org

Prior to the 19th century, if we are lucky enough to find an author stating their preferred blade or sword length, it will most often be given relative to the individual's height. A good example is Paolo Bertelli's treatise from 1800, where he states that a proportionate blade length is one that comes up to the height of the belt, i.e. the natural waist.³ Helpfully for us though, from this point onward specific measurements become the norm, starting with Rosaroll and Grisetti in 1803. While they do clarify that the blade should be proportional to the wielder, Neapolitans and Sicilians supposedly prefer the longest blades of all the Italian peoples at 4 palmi or 105.5 cm, which is what they say is customary in duelling; throughout the rest of the peninsula shorter blades of 3 ½ to 3 ⅔ palmi (92.6 to 97 cm) are more common.⁴ It is possible these measurements include the ricasso, so if we subtract a typical ricasso length of 5 cm that would leave the Neapolitans with roughly 100 cm of blade from guard to point, and 87 to 92 cm for the rest of Italy.

The scarcity of sources in decades following Rosaroll and Grisetti's publication makes it difficult to verify how broadly their preferences may be applied to their own camp, but they were a convenient enough reference point four decades later for Alberto Marchionni to use as an upper limit on the blade lengths used by Italians. In giving advice to the reader on what kind of foil blades to use in both lessons and bouting, he remarks that the length of foil blades at that time can vary anywhere between 28 and 33 pollici. We can get a rough idea of what Marchionni's pollice is equivalent to in centimetres from earlier in the book where he equates 29 pollici to 85 cm and 30 pollici to 90 cm, which reveals that 1 pollice is equivalent to just under 3 cm, making his range of blade lengths in the area of 84 to 99 cm. Marchionni himself recommends a mid-length blade at 31 pollici or ~93 cm.⁵ Since the type of foil used in Marchionni's system is of the 'mixed school' type—which lacks the ricasso of the Neapolitan foil—it might be assumed that all the provided figures refer to only the length of blade between the guard and point, in which case these figures would line up very well with those given by Rosaroll and Grisetti.

The reason why northerners were more partial to shorter blades was directly related to the prevalence of the mixed school, which incorporated both traditional Italian and French techniques into one method.⁶ Since some aspects of French fencing, in particular those techniques used at close measure, were less viable with longer blades, especially when using a ligature, proponents of the mixed school shied away from the upper limit of blade lengths purely out of practicality. A mid-range blade did not put one at too much of a disadvantage against a long Neapolitan blade, but gave an advantage against them at close measure as well as a reach advantage over the average French practitioner (who preferred blades on the shorter end of the scale, as discussed later). Southerners, on the other hand, whose long blades made their weapons heavier and more unwieldy, commonly made use of ligatures to mitigate this.⁷ As always in fencing, the weapon could be both a determiner of and determined by the method its wielder used.

With very few exceptions, Italian sources from this point on favour similar mid-range blade lengths as what Marchionni recommends. Beginning with Paolo De Scalzi's treatise in the early 1850s, we find a simple way for a fencer to determine whether nor a sword or foil is correctly proportional for their height. Standing upright, the fencer collapses their sword arm and places the palm of that hand on the same shoulder, keeping the elbow pointing towards the ground. Resting the point of the sword on the ground underneath that same arm, the pommel of the sword should lightly touch the folded elbow.⁸ This method of measuring a proportional sword length can also be found in two treatises on duelling written by fencing masters, the first one co-authored by the aforementioned Alberto Marchionni along with Cesare Enrichetti published in 1863, and the other by Pasquale Cicirelli in 1873.⁹ The first treatise states that this measurement applies to both duelling swords and foils, and in both texts this measuring technique is specifically said to correspond to a proportionate Italian sword. Given that the average height of Italian adult men born in the mid-19th century could be lower than 165 cm, depending on which region one was born in, such a method would probably yield a blade length on the lower end of the range Marchionni gave in his 1847 fencing treatise.¹⁰

De Scalzi even provides a quick rule-of-thumb to estimate this correct length, saying that a correctly proportioned sword, using the above method, should end up being 3/5 of one's total height.¹¹ For a 165 cm person De Scalzi's rule-of-thumb means a correctly proportioned sword would be about 99 cm, leaving a blade length from point to guard of around 84 cm if the sword had a ricasso, as they do in De Scalzi's illustrations. This is particularly interesting in Cicirelli's case, since at the time of publishing he was teaching in Reggio Calabria, a city deep within Southern Italy. He also provides a maximum allowable length for a duelling sword, 'not exceeding four palmi (1.06 m) from the pommel to the point.'¹² While this 'four palmi' measurement is familiar to use from Rosaroll and Grisetti, and the unit conversion to metric which Cicirelli provides is certainly nice confirmation for my own, it is important to note how it is now being used to refer to the total length of the sword, not just the blade, as Rosaroll and Grisetti did.

Returning to the north of the peninsula, masters Vittorio Lambertini and Cesare Enrichetti, who published their respective treatises within a year of each other at the start of the 1870s, echo the intermediate preferences outlined first by Rosaroll/Grisetti and Marchionni, and this may reflect the early stages of a narrowing range of blade lengths. The former recommends a blade between 90 and 100 cm long from point to incassatura (probably where the blade meets the shell) and states a preference for long blades, while the latter splits the difference and recommends 95 cm, not including the ricasso. In a discussion earlier in his treatise, Enrichetti declares that while in fencing different blade lengths between opponents is permissible, this is not so for a duel, in which a 'correct length' would be an average of the Neapolitan/Sicilian school, who use 'not less than 4 palmi', and the French, whose blades 'do not exceed 3 palmi [79 cm]'.¹³

Before going any further, this a good opportunity for a brief tangent regarding French foil blades, since they commonly served as a lower-end reference point for Italian authors throughout the 19th century. Compared to the ranges we have seen earlier on in Italy, French treatises generally agreed on a relatively narrow range of 80 to 90 cm, as seen in the table below.¹⁴ While this data does support the assertion that the French did prefer shorter blades than Italians in general, Enrichetti was likely exaggerating the reality.

Author	Blade Length
Saint Martin 1804	2.5 French feet [81.2 cm]
Chatelain 1818	30 to 32 pouces [80.6 to 86 cm]
La Boëssière 1818	at least 31 pouces [84 cm]
Gomard 1845	varies from 81 to 89 cm
Brunet 1884	no. 4 [84 cm] and no. 5 [88 cm] blades are most common

In the following decade and a half, the disparity between Italian and French blades would diminish even further, converging towards a relatively narrow range by the end of the century. The first appearance of what would quickly become the new normal in Italy was in the treatise of Masaniello Parise, the young Neapolitan who was placed at the head of the Military Fencing Master's School in Rome when it opened in 1884, the same year his treatise was published. Parise provides no range of typical blade lengths, just a single number: 'The length of this blade, calculated from the shell to the point or button, should be 90 centimetres.'¹⁵ Even including the 6 cm long ricasso, we are still about 10 cm off the 4 palmi measurement which Enrichetti gave as a supposed lower limit for Neapolitans just a decade earlier.

Given that the government approval of Parise's treatise was seen by many to be a return to tradition, we would expect the Neapolitan Parise to have preferred longer blades, but his prescribed 90 cm is much more akin to the compromise blade lengths seen in the north during the preceding decades. Nor do we find any of his critics, of which there were many, bringing up blade length as a point of contention, even when the state of Italian fencing in the late 1890s was described by one particularly virulent opponent as a 'Frenchified mess' thanks to Parise's efforts to modernise the old Neapolitan school.¹⁶ The cultural dominance of the north post-unification may go a long way to explain the shift in Neapolitan preferences in the latter half of the century. Longer blades may also have just become harder to come by, since most fencing blades towards the end of the century were from foreign manufacturers who no longer wishes to cater for a niche market. Whatever the reason for this change, by the 1880s it was evidently not considered important enough for either Parise's supporters or detractors to mention.

Further evidence that Parise was simply reflecting the common preference of the time can be taken from the fact that even two of his fiercest ideological opponents, Radaellians, soon published their own treatises also prescribing 90 cm blades. First was Giordano Rossi in 1885, who also clarified the blade should be 95 cm including the ricasso and the overall sword length 106 cm.¹⁷ Second was Ferdinando Masiello in 1887, who himself started out his foil fencing education under Neapolitan masters before later studying under Enrichetti and Radaelli. His excruciatingly detailed foil specifications produce a weapon that is 108 cm long in total and with a centre of gravity only 4 cm from the guard, as opposed to the typical 'four fingers' preferred by Rossi.¹⁸

The parts of a foil, from Masiello (1887).
Source: KU Leuven

The outlier for the 1880s comes from the only other treatise published in this decade, written by Sicilian master Antonino Guglielmo. He makes suspiciously similar remarks as Enrichetti regarding how Neapolitans and Sicilians do not use blades shorter than 105 cm and the French no longer than 80 cm, both being roughly equivalent to 4 and 3 palmi, respectively.¹⁹ Given that Guglielmo was not averse to plagiarising parts of several other Italian authors throughout his book, such as Settimo Del Frate, Giuseppe Cerri and unsurprisingly Giuseppe Rosaroll and Pietro Grisetti (leaning particularly heavily on the latter two in his section on foil), he may have simply been out-of-touch with contemporary practice and relying mostly on his readings.

Also beginning in the 1880s was an increasing amount cooperation and competition between Italian and French fencers, such that by the end of the century it is easy to find commentators comparing both the stylistic and materialistic tendencies of the two countries. The frequent interaction between the schools may be one of the key reasons why we also see the common blade lengths used by the two schools converge to within only a few centimetres by the late 1890s. Italian sports journalist Alberto Cougnet noted in 1894 that Italian blades were 90 cm from point to guard, with a typical ricasso of 5 or 6 cm, whilst the blade on a French foil was 87 cm, 'therefore it has three centimetres less than our Italian blades.'²⁰ Similarly, French military master Émile Coste's analysis of Italian fencing, relying heavily on Masaniello Parise's work, remarked that the 90 cm blade of Italians was 'longer than ours by four to five centimetres', and that Italian blades were also flatter and much more flexible, which gave their masters the advantage of not having to use a plastron when giving a lesson.²¹ This is a notable change from the 'long heavy blade, broad and perfectly rigid' that Baron de Bazancourt described on Italian foils less than four decades earlier.²²

A poster promoting the first Franco-Italian team foil
tournament in 1895.
Source: Gallica

So while the difference in blade lengths was noteworthy for commentators of both countries by 1890s, it was by no means as considerable as it apparently was in the middle of the century, yet this difference still seems to have been too much for some. At the very first Olympic games in 1896, the questionably-worded rules targeted Italianate fencers with the rule that those who chose to use an Italian foil 'may only use foils measuring less than 0.85 centimetres', which I can only presume meant a maximum blade length of 85 cm rather than mandating 9 cm foils.²³ This measure proved unnecessary in the end, as not a single Italian fencer ended up competing.

Subsequent foil competitions were much more accommodating though, with the Paris games in 1900 and Athens in 1906 mandating no. 5 blades, which by that point were likely very close or equivalent to 90 cm, and then at Stockholm 1912 the maximum blade length was explicitly set at 90 cm, with a maximum total weapon length of 110 cm.²⁴ This seems to have been the maximum length that the International Fencing Federation decided on for both foil and épée when it approved its first regulations in 1914, which is still the upper limit to this day.²⁵ This convergence was an inevitable effect of international competition and the agreements which arose to standardise such encounters. Since the French and Italian schools were the two most prominent at the time of the FIE's founding, as well as already using blades that were relatively similar in length, it is natural that they were the one who determined what should be considered acceptable, and it just so happened that by the time a decision had to be made, they were more or less in agreement over most of the general points.

So to summarise the trajectory we can observe in Italian foil fencing across the 19th century, the upper end of Italian blade lengths was set by the traditional fencers of Southern Italy at around 100 or 105 cm long. These were likely in common usage until the second half of the century, where they were slowly replaced by shorter and shorter blades until settling on 90 cm, probably by the late 1870s. In the north of the peninsula, a diversity of blade lengths matched the diversity of opinions and influences, most notably from the French. In the first half of the century, blades anywhere from 80 cm to the Neapolitan 105 cm could be found in use, but as the century wore on, particularly after unification, northerners gravitated towards the middle ground of 90 to 95 cm, and then eventually 90 cm during the 1870s. There are of course significant gaps and uncertainties left in this time, most notably regarding the practices of the Neapolitan school and its interactions with fencers from the north, so the conclusions I have been able to draw together here should only be considered a broad starting point for the evolution of the modern Italian foil blade.

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1 The most recent equipment rules from the FIE can be found here.^↩
2 Ben Paul, "Choosing the Right Size of Blade: A Simplified Guide," Leon Paul, 19 December 2023, https://www.leonpaul.com/blog/choosing-the-right-size-of-blade-a-simplified-guide/.^↩
3 Paolo Bertelli, Trattato di scherma ossia modo di maneggiare la spada e sciabla (Bologna: Ulisse Ramponi, 1800), 53.^↩
4 Giuseppe Rosaroll and Pietro Grisetti, La scienza della scherma (Milan: Giornale Italico, 1803), 4. For the conversion of palmi to centimetres, I have referenced Tavole dei pesi e delle misure già in uso nelle varie proncie del regno col peso metrico decimale (Rome: Stamperia Reale, 1877), 447. I have assumed that the authors were using Neapolitan palmi.^↩
5 Alberto Marchionni, Trattato di scherma sopra un nuovo sistema di giuoco misto di scuola italiana e francese (Florence: Tipi di Federigo Bencini, 1847), 143; 187.^↩
6 Marchionni, Trattato di scherma, 62.^↩
7 For a discussion on the use of ligatures, see Sebastian Seager, "Binding the Sword," Radaellian Scholar (blog), 18 August 2024, https://radaellianscholar.blogspot.com/2024/08/binding-sword.html.^↩
8 Paolo De Scalzi, La scuola della spada, 2nd ed. (Genoa: Tipografia e Litografia di L. Pellas, 1853), 26.^↩
9 Alberto Marchionni and Cesare Errichetti, Norme sui duelli e attribuzioni dei padrini (Florence: Tipografia di P. Fioretti, 1863), 18; Pasquale Cicirelli, Riflessioni sul duello seguite dalle norme per l'esecuzione pratica dello stesso e doveri del giurì d'onore (Reggio Calabria: Lipari e Barile, 1873), 52.^↩
10 Maria Enrica Danubio, Elisa Amicone, and Rita Vargiu, "Height and BMI of Italian immigrants to the USA, 1908–1970," Economics & Human Biology 3, no. 1 (March 2005): 33–43, https://doi.org/10.1016/j.ehb.2004.11.001; Brian A'Hearn, Franco Peracchi, and Giovanni Vecchi, "Height and the Normal Distribution: Evidence from Italian Military Data," Demography 46, no. 1 (February 2009): 1–25, https://www.jstor.org/stable/25476004.^↩
11 De Scalzi, La scuola della spada, 26.^↩
12 Cicirelli, Riflessioni sul duello, 52n.^↩
13 Vittorio Lambertini, Trattato di scherma teorico-pratico illustrato della moderna scuola italiana di spada e sciabola (Bologna: self-pub., 1870), 28; Cesare Enrichetti, Trattato elementare teorico-pratico di scherma (Parma: Pietro Grazioli, 1871), 29–30; 62.^↩
14 J. de St. Martin, L'art de faire des armes réduit a ses vrais principes, (Vienna: Janne Schrämble, 1804), 4; Chatelain, Traité d'escrime a pied et a cheval (Paris: Magimel, Anselin et Pochard, 1818), 13; La Boëssière, Traité de l'art des armes, a l'usage des professeurs et des amateurs (Paris: Imprimerie de Didot, 1818), 13; Gomard [A. J. J. Possellier], La théorie de l'escrime enseignée par une méthode simple basée sur l'observation de la nature (Paris: J. Dumaine, 1845), 302–3; Romuald Brunet, Traité d'escrime: pointe et contre-pointe (Paris: Rouveyre et G. Blond, 1884, 21.^↩
15 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), 34.^↩
16 Luigi Barbasetti, "La miglior parata è la botta," La Gazzetta dello Sport, 20 August 1897.^↩
17 Giordano 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), 24.^↩
18 Ferdinando Masiello, La scherma italiana di spada e di sciabola (Florence: Stabilimento Tipografico G. Civelli, 1887), 174–6. The preference of a 'four fingers' centre of gravity on foils was shared by the aforecited Lambertini, Enrichetti, Parise, and Rossi.^↩
19 Antonino Guglielmo, Sunto ed innovazioni sulla scherma di spada e di sciabola (Messina: Tipi Caporal Fracassa, 1888), 7–9.^↩
20 Alberto Cougnet, La scherma di spada (nel metodo italiano e francese) (Reggio Nell'Emilia: G. Degani, 1894), 38–41.^↩
21 Émile Coste, Fleurets rompus... ([Paris]: R. Chapelot, 1899), 260–2.^↩
22 Baron de Bazancourt, Secrets of the Sword, trans. C. F. Clay (London: George Bell, 1900), 168.^↩
23 Jeux olympiques Athènes 5-15 avril 1896: sous la présidence de monseigneur le prince royal de Grece: Règlement du championnat international d'escrime (n.p.: [1896?]), 8.^↩
24 D. Mérillon, Exposition universelle internationale de 1900 à Paris: Concours internationaux d'exercices physiques et de sports, vol. 1 (Parisç Imprimerie Nationale, 1901), 144; Jeux olympiques internationaux a Athènes (22 Avril - 2 Mai 1906): Réglements: Première partie: Sports athlètiques, gymnastique, escrime, foot-ball, lawn-tennis (Athens: 1905), 35; Erik Bergvall, ed., The Official Report of the Olympic Games of Stockholm 1912, trans. Edward Adams-Ray (Stockholm: Wahlström & Widstrand, 1913), 1017.^↩
25 The earliest full set of FIE regulations I have found so far was published across several issues of the magazine L'Escrime et le Tir, from February to July 1923.^↩

Teoría de la esgrima by Horacio Levene

Although it has been well over two years since I had an opportunity to talk about Italian fencing in Argentina, my silence on the fascinating history of fencing in South America has primarily been caused by the difficulty in obtaining copies of the relevant works from the early 20th century. To address this drought I present today Horacio Levene's Teoría de la esgrima, a foil treatise published in 1929 in Buenos Aires.

*** Click here to view ***

As Levene states in the preface, this book was adopted as the official text of the Argentinian military's fencing and gymnastics school, of which he was the director at the time of publication. Born in 1883, Levene was himself a graduate of the school, first entering its halls in 1901, after which he was posted to several different regiments, military schools, and at one point even a navy frigate, all of which he lists at the beginning of the book along with the civilian clubs he had taught at.¹ His diligent work was rewarded in 1923 when he was appointed as the army's inspector of gymnastics and fencing, and three years later he became director of the fencing and gymnastics school itself. In addition to his work on fencing, Levene made notable contributions to the field of gymnastics in Argentina and also wrote a duelling code that saw several republications during his lifetime.² He died in 1960.

As would be expected, Levene's method inherits much from the father of Italian fencing in Argentina, Eugenio Pini, and it retains a distinctly Italian character.³ Levene mostly repeats much of Pini's particular terminology, such as the term reccoglimento for the envelopment and the distinction between counter and half-counter parries, but includes some of his own modifications, such as the additional parries of 6th (a supinated 2nd) and 5th (equivalent to that used in Italian sabre).

The most unique feature of this treatise is in the second half, which was written almost entirely by Levene's 3rd-year students at the Argentinian military master's school. The first technique is described by Levene, who provides the structure that is then repeated by his students. Each one outlines the tactical applications of a specific technique (or combination thereof) and give notes for the instructor to take into account when teaching it.

The final page of the book refers to synoptic tables of actions that were supposed to follow, but these are missing in my copy. I presume that they were either removed at some point in this book's life, or, alternatively, they were perhaps never present at all. As the title page of the book states, this particular printing was the 'provisional edition', thus there may have been later printings that included the tables, but this is of course mere conjecture. If readers are aware of any other exemplars of this seemingly rather rare book, I would be very interested to know if they differ at all.

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1 Alejo Levoratti and Diego Roldán, "Los batallones escolares de la patria. Estudio comparado de las representaciones sobre el cuerpo y el entrenamiento de los maestros de esgrima del centenario en la República Argentina," Revista História da Educação 23 (2019): 23–4, https://doi.org/10.1590/2236-3459/88977.^↩
2 Some of Levene's other publications: La esgrima y el duelo: espada de combate (Buenos Aires: n. p., 1914); Duelo: manual de procedimiento (Buenos Aires: Fueyo, 1917); Gimnasia metodizada (Orientación integral humana, 1939).^↩
3 See Eugenio Pini, La esgrima de espada (Buenos Aires: Félix Lajouane, 1902). The treatise was subsequently republished in 1905 by Maucci in both Barcelona and Buenos Aires. The Italian version edition is Trattato pratico e teorico sulla scherma di spada (Livorno: Raffaello Giusti, 1904).^↩

The Early Career of Luigi Barbasetti

In the Radaellian tradition, no other fencing master boasts quite the same level of name recognition as Luigi Barbasetti. As a result of his trailblazing work introducing Italian fencing to the Austro-Hungarian Empire, as well as boasting the only Radaellian sabre and foil treatises to be translated in their entirety into English prior to the 21st century, Barbasetti's work was what introduced many Europeans to Radaellian fencing in the late 19th and 20th centuries, and it continues to do so for many fencers around the world today.

Less known to modern readers are the many articles Barbasetti wrote across many periodicals throughout his career, particularly those written in the two-year between him leaving military service in 1892 and his fateful move to Vienna in late 1894. By nature of the period in which these articles were written, they give significant insight into Barbasetti's motivations as well as his perceptions on the development of Italian fencing up to that point.

In the document below I have provided a selection of sixteen articles from the magazines La Rivista Sportiva and Scherma Italiana, ten of which were authored by Luigi Barbasetti himself, signed either with his full name or more commonly merely his initials 'L. B.', and in one instance simply 'B.' The remaining six articles provide the context for those Barbasetti references and responded to.

*** Supplementary articles ***

Other articles of Barbasetti's appeared in these two magazines during this period, but those presented in the provided document are the most pertinent in understanding the frustrations and disillusionment which undoubtedly gave Barbasetti the motive to leave Italy for greener pastures abroad. What follows in the rest of this article is my own attempt to provide a biographical background for Barbasetti's writings and highlight how they were influenced by his prior experiences.

——————

Giuseppe Luigi Barbasetti was born on 21 February 1859 in the city of Udine.¹ As a teenager he joined the military, receiving training as a non-commissioned officer at the 3rd Training Battalion in Verona, where he quickly distinguished himself in fencing under the tutelage of Carlo Guasti. Due to his fencing talents, Barbasetti was selected to become a fencing master, for which he spent an additional year at the Training Battalion with Maestro Guasti and then in 1880 he entered the great Fencing Master's School in Milan, whose acting director at the time was Giovanni Monti, in place of the ailing Giuseppe Radaelli. Barbasetti's personal copy of the fencing textbook used at the school, along with all the meticulous notes he wrote alongside it, is still preserved today at KU Leuven in Belgium.²

Barbasetti's first master, Carlo Guasti.

After graduating in 1881, Barbasetti became the regimental fencing instructor of the 36th infantry.³ Soon after his assignment to this regiment it transferred to Palermo, which proved to be a fruitful experience for Barbasetti. While stationed here he had the opportunity to train with the highly regarded amateur fencer Antonino Palizzolo, who ran a popular fencing club in Palermo. Although Barbasetti's regiment was stationed in Palermo for less than two years, under the guidance of Palizzolo Barbasetti greatly improved his foil fencing and developed an appreciation for the Sicilian fencers, whom he described as being particularly adherent to their traditional methods and equipment.⁴

By the start of 1885 the 36th infantry regiment had moved, as had the Military Fencing Master's School, which had its new seat in the Italian capital under the direction of the young Neapolitan master Masaniello Parise, a significant controversy in the Italian fencing world. Before the Rome school could resume the task of training fencing masters, the new, non-Radaellian, fencing method that formed the curriculum at Parise's school had to be taught to the military's existing masters. In April 1885 Luigi Barbasetti began his 3-month conversion course in Rome, where he made enough of an impression on the new director that he, along with several other Radaellians, was asked to remain at the school as an assistant instructor. This role had the benefit of providing a slight pay increase as well as being a more fulfilling role, as instructors here would be teaching students who were much more interested in learning fencing than the average officer in a regimental fencing hall would be.⁵

Barbasetti first came to the attention of the fencing public in 1887 at the 'international' tournament in Florence, his first such appearance. Although overshadowed by others in the foil elimination competition (he did not compete in sabre), his classification bouts resulted in him receiving the second highest score among 42 fencing masters in foil and fourth out of 61 masters in sabre. In addition to the two gold medals he received for these rankings, Barbasetti was also awarded a yataghan, one of 28 special prizes donated by various clubs, politicians, and nobles.⁶

Barbasetti's reputation continued to rise over the following years, repeating similarly noteworthy performances at no fewer than seven tournaments by 1892 in addition to his first Florentine outing. By 1891 Barbasetti was one of the longest-serving instructors at the Master's School, alongside his old master Carlo Guasti and Carlo Pessina. Despite this apparent loyalty, however, Barbasetti's later writings show that at this point he was growing increasingly frustrated and resentful of the institution he served. Rather than being loyal to Parise and his method, Barbasetti was in fact adamantly opposed to the sabre method he was being forced to teach, and had never abandoned his Radaellian principles. By mid-1891 Barbasetti had been transferred to the Modena Military School. It is unclear why this happened—one journalist later wrote that Barbasetti left voluntarily 'in order to not share moral responsibility deriving from fallacious teaching'—but it is likely that by this point he was greatly disillusioned with his role at the Master's School.⁷ At the Modena Military School Barbasetti found a brief reprieve from this feeling, being able to teach alongside a large cohort of like-minded Radaellians free from the watchful eye of Parise.

What separated him from his colleagues at the military school, however, was the fact that his efforts at the school had not yet been rewarded with a promotion to civil master. 'Civil master' was the designation the Ministry of War gave to fencing masters under their direct employ as civilians, distinct from regular military instructors like Barbasetti, who were first and foremost soldiers and who were for the most part attached to a specific regiment or, in rare cases such as Barbasetti's, temporarily assigned to a military school or college to act as an assistant instructor. The relevance of this particular promotion here is the effect it had on a given fencing instructor's willingness to remain in military service.

Long-term retention of military fencing masters was dismal in the late 19th century. Several commentators, including Barbasetti, asserted that most masters left the military at the end of their five-year mandatory service period. This service period included the time spent training at the Master's School, so given that the course lasted two years until 1890, and thereafter three years, most masters would only be required to serve for a couple of years after graduating.⁸ If the instructor achieved a civil master promotion, however, it is almost certain that they would keep that position for many years, often decades. The position of civil master was greatly coveted as with it came: the benefit of a much higher starting salary which increased further with seniority; a generally more enthusiastic group of students; the consistency of being attached to an institution rather than a regiment which was constantly redeployed; freedom from the menial day-to-day tasks foisted on military instructors (such as delivering mail and acquiring firewood); the ability to also give private fencing lessons outside of regular work hours, among several other factors.

From a purely practical standpoint, military instructors found themselves in a contradictory position in their role as an instructor: every day they had to act as teachers to officers as well as NCOs, but they were unable to discipline students on their own, having to rely on the hall supervisor, who was not always present. While civil masters had no rank, given that they were civilian employees, they were nevertheless free of the military hierarchy and had the ability to engage with officers in more informal social contexts outside of their work. This put them on a much more equal social level than they would be had they remained soldiers, one much more in keeping with the respect they themselves felt they deserved.

To reach the rank of civil master, military instructors had to undergo an examination similar to those the masters would have undergone to graduate from the Master's School, which consisted of giving example lessons, answering questions about the regulation fencing text, and bouting. However, since all the competing candidates had several years of experience by the time they applied for the position, the level of competency required to rise above the crowd was understandably very high. The sum of the scores candidates received for each exam element would create an overall ranking for all candidates, and soon after the highest ranking candidates would be given any civil master positions vacant at the time. Any other positions that became vacant in the following two years would be awarded to the next highest-ranking candidate, provided they were still serving in the military. If a candidate did not end up receiving a promotion at the end of this period, they were considered unsuccessful, and would have to go through the exams again if they still wished to earn a promotion. However, individuals were only permitted to apply for the civil master promotion twice; if they did not receive a promotion after two attempts, they could not apply again and had to either be content as a lowly military instructor or, as most eventually did, leave the military altogether.⁹

This was the position our Barbasetti found himself in when, in October 1892, he returned to the Master's School one last time, this time not as an instructor, but as a candidate for civil master. Given that Barbasetti had been a military instructor for over a decade now, this was probably his second (and final) chance to get the promotion. At the end of the civil master exams, Barbasetti ranked a respectable 5th out of likely several dozen candidates. Unfortunately for Barbasetti though, this ranking was not high enough to secure him one of the two already vacant civil master positions, which instead went to two younger masters, Agesilao Greco and Vincenzo Drosi.¹⁰ To add insult to injury, not only did all the other masters who ranked higher than Barbasetti have less experience than he, as per the regular rules governing who could apply to the civil master role Greco would not have had the requisite seniority, so he would have had to receive special permission from Parise to take part in the exams.¹¹

Despite spending six respectable years as an instructor at the Military Master's School, Parise and the army had implicitly deemed Barbasetti's teaching skills to be lacking in comparison to several of his less experienced peers. This proved to be the last straw for Barbasetti, and a few months later he left the army entirely. Curiously, if Barbasetti had remained in the army for another year, he indeed would have received his promotion. From when the exams took place in October 1892 and until the possible advancement period ended in September 1894, a total of 8 civil master vacancies were filled, a high but not unprecedented number. Since he had already been discharged from the army, however, he was no longer eligible to receive the promotion, and it instead went to one of his Radaellian colleagues.¹² Barbasetti was likely aware of this possibility when he received his discharge papers, thus it cannot be said for certain that the results of the civil master exam were the deciding factor for Barbasetti.

Despite these no doubt demoralising circumstances, it was as a free agent that Barbasetti would finally receive the recognition and remuneration he felt was owed to him, in all likelihood surpassing anything he might have achieved by staying in the military. The opportunity to employ this highly experienced and reputable young master was quickly seized by the the popular and well-funded Trieste Fencing Society, and in December that same year Barbasetti arrived in Trieste to a rapturous welcome. Although still part of the Austro-Hungarian Empire at this time, Trieste had a significant and growing Italian minority who was well up-to-date on the latest fencing trends in Italy. Even before Barbasetti's arrival, the fencers of Trieste were by no means ignorant of Radaellian fencing, indeed the city was somewhat of a Radaellian outpost in the late 19th century. The famous master Salvatore Arista had spent a couple of years in Trieste in the same role a decade earlier, and by the time Barbasetti arrived in 1892 two other ex-military Radaellian masters, G. T. Angelini and Augusto Garagnani, were teaching in the city. Barbasetti's reputation naturally overshadowed the two incumbents; a banquet was held to celebrate his arrival, which was billed as the beginning of a revival of fencing activity in the city.¹³

As well as marking a new era in his teaching career, Barbasetti's move to Trieste resulted in the emergence of his public persona through the Italian sporting press. His first forays into writing appeared in mid-1893 in the pro-Radaellian fencing magazine Scherma Italiana, responding to comments made about a recent exhibition of his with Eugenio Pini and discussions on duelling codes and ongoing efforts at their standardisation in Italy.¹⁴ But it was at the end of the year when he truly came to the attention of the literate fencing public by becoming an editor of Trieste's La Rivista Sportiva. This magazine had been in circulation since the beginning of 1893, featuring only a modest and intermittent fencing column, but in December the Rivista began an ambitious shift and published a 6-page special edition fencing supplement to inaugurate the addition of Luigi Barbasetti to the magazine's editorial staff.¹⁵

For the last five months of La Rivista Sportiva's existence, fencing became the largest single section of the magazine, often comprising half of an individual issue's total material. The magazine boasted of having received commitments for the collaboration of many other prominent Radaellians, but very few of them (at least in name) would actually contribute an article in the magazine's short lifetime. While the magazine did not manage to serve as the collaborative and enduring platform that some Radaellians had hoped for, it did at least provide an effective soapbox for its newest editor, Barbasetti, who immediately took to expounding his views on the current state of fencing in Italy, declaring that it is 'on the path of regression, perhaps primarily because of the teaching method introduced in the army, which we cannot declare to be in agreement with.'¹⁶

Barbasetti was highly critical of his old boss, Masaniello Parise, and the oppressive institution he ruled over. Although Barbasetti had spent 6 years teaching at the Master's School, this had not made him more amenable to Parise's teachings, at least not with respect to sabre fencing. He makes explicit his regret at having attempted to make change from within the system:

Parise's collaborators, or rather the executors, all pure Radaellians, wanted to repaint something…decayed and covered in patches, so as to make a ramshackle thing pass off as new. It was junkyard business and for my part I now deplore having lent a hand.¹⁷

Barbasetti depicts Parise and the school as oppressive and detrimental to the development of fencing in Italy; adherence to the defective official method stifles the artistic freedom of fencing masters in the army, whom Barbasetti asserts are all of a lower quality than those who emerged from the schools of Radaelli and Enrichetti. His first example of this oppression was the fact that the famed Ferdinando Masiello had in late 1893 resigned from his respected teaching position at the Florence military college. This followed only a few months after another master, Barbasetti's dear master Carlo Guasti, left the halls of the Rome Master's School and was transferred to a military academy in Turin.¹⁸ Barbasetti believes both events to be proof that more and more masters were becoming disillusioned with the curriculum and being subordinate to Parise.

Today it is Masiello who renounces government teaching. Tomorrow, who knows? But if we go on at this trot we can hope for at least one thing: which is that soon nobody will receive a master's licence from the state without proving that they have hung Masaniello Parise's treatise at the foot of their bed and that every morning they recite this prayer: 'I believe in the impeccable, infallible official fencing treatise and I renounce all other authors and common sense if by chance I find it.'¹⁹

Barbasetti asserted that in the past eight years 'not one truly strong sabre fencer has emerged from the Master's School', which immediately caught the ire of at least one of Parise's disciples, Antonio Conte, whose response to Barbasetti's diatribes appeared on the front page of Scherma Italiana.²⁰ Conte points to the recent competitive successes of himself and his fellow graduates as proof of the school's accomplishments, a point which the Radaellians themselves made in defence of the Milan school in previous years. In his response, Barbasetti shows himself to be fiercely protective of his reputation as a competitor, downplaying Conte's victories by asserting that most of his victories took place when he did not have to face someone like Barbasetti. When he is willing to concede that a graduate of Parise's school is worthy of praise, it is mostly because their instructor at the school deviated from the regulation method (as was supposedly the case with Carlo Guasti) or because of their own extraordinary physical attributes (e.g. Agesilao Greco).²¹

Regular readers of this blog may also appreciate the additional details Barbasetti provides on the Parise-Pecoraro reforms from a few years prior. While the actual substance of Parise's reformed sabre method is well known to us through later sources, Barbasetti directly credits General Giovanni Corvetto, then Undersecretary of State at the Ministry of War, for initiating this process. Barbasetti claims that Corvetto was 'a bitter enemy of the Parise system' and attempted to replace Parise with Pecoraro as head of the Master's School, but he was overruled by others in the government. As a compromise, Pecoraro was permitted to make changes to the cavalry's sabre instruction, the result of which was the Parise-Pecoraro method that was taught to the cavalry and students at the Master's School from 1891 onwards.²² Yet these changes were evidently insufficient for Barbasetti, as they did not address the underlying problems with how the Italian military trained its fencing masters.

In expounding on how to improve what Barbasetti perceives to be a decline in the quality of sabre fencing and fencing masters in Italy, he draws inspiration partly from his personal experience of over 12 years of military service. He has positive memories of the 'training unit' model that he experienced in his youth, where the Master's School acted more as a finishing school rather than one which takes up the burden of providing a comprehensive training programme.²³ Yet there is one new perspective that Barbasetti has recently gained greater access to with his move to Trieste, and that is the fencing programme of the Austro-Hungarian army's school in Wiener Neustadt.

Several articles in the Rivista Sportiva strongly suggest that Barbasetti was interacting with Austro-Hungarian military personnel and those who had close knowledge of the kind of fencing carried out in both military and civilian circles.²⁴ These contacts gave him the strong impression that life for a fencing master in the Austro-Hungarian military was far better than in Italy, for several reasons. The first was due to the fact that Austrian military fencing masters are officers, and they can continue receiving promotions while acting as fencing masters. The second factor was that the fencing course at Wiener Neustadt lasted only a year, which meant the empire was able to produce fencing masters quickly, albeit with less training than an Italian master. Barbasetti's imagined emulation of the Wiener Neustadt system would have seen the Modena Military School turned into a training unit of 'fencing specialists', with this location most likely being selected as a result of his personal experience there two years earlier.²⁵

The most fruitful aspect of Barbasetti's interaction with Austrian military personnel, however, turned out not to be the importing of new ideas into Italy, but rather the beginning of the exporting of Italian fencing to the rest of Europe. In the penultimate issue of La Rivista Sportiva in April 1894 Barbasetti mentions a visit from Eugen Bothmer and Amon Gregurich, both fencing masters in the Austrian army. These masters had given Barbasetti an invitation to hold a course on Italian fencing at the cavalry school at Mährisch Weißkirchen (Hranice na Moravě, today part of Czechia), where they had already begun teaching in accordance with the Italian method, likely learnt through their contact with Gustav Ristow and Pietro Arnoldo.²⁶ He was then taken to the Wiener Neustadt school where he gave another demonstration of the Radaellian method, which was so well received that already in August 1894 some were claiming that Barbasetti's method was to be adopted by all military schools in Austria-Hungary.²⁷

By the end of the year, Barbasetti had packed his bags and moved to Vienna, and thus began a new and remarkable period in European fencing which saw the Radaellian spread rapidly across the continent. The last issue of the Rivista Sportiva was published on 10 May 1894, but this was by no means the end of Barbasetti's writing career. Aside from his books—namely his duelling code (1898), sabre treatise (1899), and foil treatise (1900)—Barbasetti continued to contribute the occasional article to various newspapers and magazines both in Austria and Italy, but he never again assumed such a direct role in affecting the public discourse like he did with the Rivista.

Much has been said about Barbasetti's fascinating career over the past 130 years, and surely much more remains to be said, particularly regarding the years following his departure from Vienna at the outbreak of the Great War. What I hope to have provided here at least is a deeper insight into the events which shaped Barbasetti's decisions in the early 1890s, events which eventually led to him becoming one of the most recognised names in the history of both Italian and Austrian fencing.

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1 Unless stated otherwise, biographical details regarding Barbasetti are drawn from the following sources: Fleuret, "Luigi Barbasetti," Allgemeine Sport-Zeitung, 5 January 1896, 19; Roderico Rizzotti, "Luigi Barbasetti," Scherma Italiana, 1 October 1896, 47–9; Camillo Müller, "Barbasetti," Allgemeine Sport-Zeitung, 1 March 1903, 220–1.^↩
2 KU Leuven Libraries Special Collections, R4A552b.^↩
3 Cesare Francesco Ricotti-Magnani, "CIRCOLARE N. 47. — Corsi eventuali presso la scuola magistrale militare di scherma. — (Segretariato generale). — 11 aprile," Giornale Militare 1885: Parte Seconda, no. 17 (15 April 1885): 196–7.^↩
4 Luigi Barbasetti, "La miglior parata è la botta," Gazzetta dello Sport, 20 August 1897; Barbasetti, La Scherma di Spada (Milan: Tipografia Alessandro Gattinoni, 1902), 24.^↩
5 On the salary of military instructors at the Master's School, see Jacopo Gelli, Brevi note sulla scherma di sciabola per la cavalleria (Florence: Tipografia di Luigi Niccolai, 1889), 9^↩
6 Daily reports on the tournament can be found in the Florentine newspaper La Nazione between 5 and 18 May 1887.^↩
7 "Accademie, tornei e notizie," Scherma Italiana, 17 December 1894, 91–2.^↩
8 For some examples of contemporary discussion regarding the poor morale of military fencing masters, see Giuseppe Perez, "I Maestri di Scherma nell'Esercito," Baiardo: periodico schermistico bimensile, 16 May 1891, 4; D'Artagnan, "I Maestri di Scherma nell'Esercito," Baiardo: periodico schermistico bimensile, 1 June 1891, 4; Ricasso, "Il grado ai maestri di scherma militari," Lo Sport Illustrato, 20 August 1891, 406; Luigi Barbasetti, "La Scuola Magistrale Militare di Scherma in Italia," La Rivista Sportiva, 25 March 1894, 63. On the mandatory service period of military fencing instructors, see Raccolta ufficiale delle leggi e dei decreti del regno d'Italia, vol. 97 (Rome: Stamperia Reale, 1890), 2366.^↩
9 Giovanni Corvetto, "CIRCOLARE N. 129. — Norme per l'esame di concorso alla nomina a maestro civile di scherma. — (Segretariato generale). — 22 agosto," Giornale Militare 1888: Parte Seconda, no. 40 (25 August 1888): 496–8; Ministero della Guerra, Regolamento per la scuola magistrale militare di scherma (Rome: Voghera Enrico, 1897), 23–4.^↩
10 Results on these exams are mentioned in "Accademie, tornei e notizie," Scherma Italiana, 27 October 1892, 70. The promotions of Greco and Drosi are announced in Ministero della Guerra, Bollettino ufficiale delle nomine, promozioni e destinazioni negli uffiziali dell'esercito italiano e nel personale dell'amministrazione militare, no. 48 (24 December 1892): 612.^↩
11 Candidates had to have a seniority dating prior to 1 January 1882. See Luigi Pelloux, "CIRCOLARE N. 96. — Concorso per la nomina a maestro aggiunto di 1a classe nel personale dei maestri civili di scherma. — (Segretariato generale). — 19 agosto," Giornale Militare 1892: Parte Seconda, no. 28 (20 August 1892): 250–1.^↩
12 The civil master promotions that were awarded between 1892 and 1894 are announced in the Bollettino ufficiale delle nomine, promozioni e destinazioni negli uffiziali dell'esercito italiano e nel personale dell'amministrazione militare.^↩
13 "Luigi Barbasetti," Il Piccolo, 1 December 1892, 1.^↩
14 "Sfida Barbasetti-Pini," Scherma Italiana, 8 May 1893, 31; "Il codice unico," Scherma Italiana 20 July 1893, 50–1; "Ancora sul codice unico," Scherma Italiana, 1 November 1893, 78.^↩
15 The copy of this first fencing supplement for the Rivista Sportiva I consulted bears no date, but given that it cites letters from the end of November 1893, a publication date in December seems likely.^↩
16 Luigi Barbasetti, "Ai miei lettori!," La Rivista Sportiva, [December 1893], 1.^↩
17 Luigi Barbasetti, "Commenti e.... Commenti," Scherma, La Rivista Sportiva, 10 January 1894, 3–4.^↩
18 Fieravespa, "E due!....," Scherma Italiana, 19 June 1893, 41.^↩
19 Luigi Barbasetti, "Ancora uno che se ne và," La Rivista Sportiva, [December 1893], 1–2.^↩
20 Luigi Barbasetti, "La decadenza della sciabola," La Rivista Sportiva, [December 1893], 4–5; Antonio Conte, Scherma Italiana, 15 February 1894, 17.^↩
21 Luigi Barbasetti, Scherma Italiana, 15 March 1894, 21–2.^↩
22 "Comunicati," Scherma Italiana, 5 August 1894, 65–6.^↩
23 Luigi Barbasetti, "La Scuola Magistrale Militare di Scherma in Italia," Scherma, La Rivista Sportiva, 25 March 1894, 63.^↩
24 In addition to the above-cited article, see Cap. Otto, "La scherma di sciabola in Austria," La Rivista Sportiva, [December 1893], 4; Cornelio Agrippa, "I maestri di scherma nell'esercito austro-ungarico," Scherma, La Rivista Sportiva, 25 January 1894, 13; Burlone, "La Scherma in Austria," Scherma, La Rivista Sportiva, 10 February 1894, 33–4.^↩
25 Luigi Barbasetti, "La Scuola Magistrale Militare di Scherma in Italia," Scherma, La Rivista Sportiva, 25 March 1894, 63.^↩
26 Luigi Barbasetti, "La Scherma Italiana in Austria," La Rivista Sportiva, 25 April 1894, 87–8. On Pietro Arnoldo's work in Austria, see this article.^↩
27 "Comunicati," Scherma Italiana, 5 August 1894, 65–6.^↩

Das Säbelfechten mit dem leichten Säbel auf Hieb und Stich by Walther Meienreis

Due to a steady influx of Italian fencing masters in the first half of the 20th century, Germany was particularly fertile ground for the spreading of Radaellian sabre. The text I am sharing today is one of many products of this expansion, this being a short German-language sabre treatise written by one Walther Meienreis titled Das Säbelfechten mit dem leichten Säbel auf Hieb und Stich ('Cut and thrust sabre fencing with the light sabre'), published in Leipzig in 1914.

*** Scans ***

Meienreis' sabre book was published alongside a separate foil volume of similar length, which I have yet to obtain an original copy of, but the sabre material alone is interesting enough on its own thanks to its strong close adherence to Radaellian theory. Meienreis was likely familiar with Barbasetti's work, as he makes use of the term pattinando (advance lunge) which was not used by other Italian authors, and the photos showing the various sabre positions are more characteristic of Barbasetti's posture than, say, Masiello, whose work was also well known in Germany by this time thanks to the work of Luigi Sestini.

As per the title page of this book, Walther Meienreis was a university-trained engineer. Almost nothing else is known about him aside from the fact that he was born in 1877 (see portrait above) and that by the time he published his works he was a lieutenant in the German reserve army, having previously served in the Landwehr, and likely lived in Berlin. He was active in the local fencing scene, particularly military tournaments, and even took part in the épée and sabre events (both individual and team) at the 1912 Stockholm Olympics.¹ I have found no mentions of him after 1914 aside from advertisements for his books, so it is possible that he was one of the many many casualties of the Great War.

*******

1 Sport im Bild, 17 December 1909, 1387; Les escrimeurs à la V^ème olympiade a Stockholm 1912 (Stockholm: W. Tullberg, 1913), 21; "Das II. Armee-Fecht-Turnier," Sport im Bild, 2 January 1914, 20–1.^↩

Glimpses inside the Master's School: Giovanni Franceschinis

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.

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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

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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.^↩

Glimpses inside the Master's School: Ottorino Scognamiglio

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.

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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

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1 Past issues of this magazine can be viewed for free here on the FIS'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.^↩

Comparing editions: Masiello 1887 vs. 1893 vs. 1902

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).

2nd edition scans

3-edition comparison

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.