Trying to Invent HEMA at Warkwarth Castle
Some time ago, when we were young(er) and daft(er), the fencing club received an invitation from a Napoleonic re-enactment group to visit them on one of their displays. They were camping overnight at Warkwarth Castle, doing a 2-day event, and would have the run of the place after the public left.
A couple of my fencers were members of this group, and had been extolling the virtues of the sport to their colleagues. They were keen to try, so we loaded up some extra gear and headed up to the castle. This would be around 1996 or so.
After a brief introduction to safe fencing (which in some cases included a quick conversion from sword drill as taught by the current British Army), we conducted a series of duels against the backdrop of the castle. The following photos were taken inside the castle, which remains rather spectacular as you can see.
What you can't see from the photos is that it was raining heavily. Visibility became poor enough that it was like playing Doom at times; opponents materialising out of the haze in front of you, then fading away again. Very strange. Very wet too. Some of us came close to drowning in our masks…!
It is probably worth pointing out that we were exquisitely careful not to damage the historic ruins of the castle. Indeed, the actual fencing took place away from the ruins. Whether the photos are real or posed recreations of what we got up to outside the castle I'll leave to the reader's imagination.
We fought a series of duels with the three weapons of modern fencing; the foil, the epee and the sabre. Sabre came most naturally to the re-enactors, as might be expected, and we made an interesting discovery - a wet denim shirt makes a nice crunchy sound when struck hard with a sabre blade!
A couple of my fencers were members of this group, and had been extolling the virtues of the sport to their colleagues. They were keen to try, so we loaded up some extra gear and headed up to the castle. This would be around 1996 or so.
After a brief introduction to safe fencing (which in some cases included a quick conversion from sword drill as taught by the current British Army), we conducted a series of duels against the backdrop of the castle. The following photos were taken inside the castle, which remains rather spectacular as you can see.
What you can't see from the photos is that it was raining heavily. Visibility became poor enough that it was like playing Doom at times; opponents materialising out of the haze in front of you, then fading away again. Very strange. Very wet too. Some of us came close to drowning in our masks…!
It is probably worth pointing out that we were exquisitely careful not to damage the historic ruins of the castle. Indeed, the actual fencing took place away from the ruins. Whether the photos are real or posed recreations of what we got up to outside the castle I'll leave to the reader's imagination.
We fought a series of duels with the three weapons of modern fencing; the foil, the epee and the sabre. Sabre came most naturally to the re-enactors, as might be expected, and we made an interesting discovery - a wet denim shirt makes a nice crunchy sound when struck hard with a sabre blade!
This is me (in black, of course) vs, err, somebody or other. It might be Chris 'Spanners' or one of his re-enactor buddies.
Same bout, different angle.
Note the lack of glove, shirtsleeves... yeek!
I would love to claim I'm older and wiser now, but truth be told I'm just older.
However, there were occasional moments of competence. Here my opponent is parrying in the position of Prime as I begin what will become a looping cut to the left side of his head.
Many of our duels were quite long, with brief bursts of activity punctuated by periods of circling and probing for an opening.
Note the lack of glove, shirtsleeves... yeek!
I would love to claim I'm older and wiser now, but truth be told I'm just older.
However, there were occasional moments of competence. Here my opponent is parrying in the position of Prime as I begin what will become a looping cut to the left side of his head.
Many of our duels were quite long, with brief bursts of activity punctuated by periods of circling and probing for an opening.
Just for reference,
that's me in black. There were several guys in grey trousers and white shirts;
some could fence and some had been given just 15 minutes' instruction…
Sabre
vs. sabre was certainly interesting when faced with an opponent who possessed
lots of guts and no skill whatsoever!
Aggression was the order of the day, with several of my opponents demonstrating a very British style of swordsmanship; they stormed forward making huge slashes with no regard to their own safety. It was parry or die!
Aggression was the order of the day, with several of my opponents demonstrating a very British style of swordsmanship; they stormed forward making huge slashes with no regard to their own safety. It was parry or die!
When there was a clash, things happened pretty fast. Simultaneous attacks were common. Normally one or both of us realised what was happening and skidded to a halt or turned an attack into a hasty parry. And sometimes there was what you might call 'mutual stabbage'.
This is where preparation of attack is useful. A good sharp beat on the opponent's blade as you begin the attack should (*NB: should*) deflect his attack or mess up his defence.
There were few elegant parry-riposte sequences like in the movies. Most of our duels were won by either the first attack or the first parry-riposte (or sometimes, the first awkward-scramble-out-of-the-way-and-desperate-lunge, but it's the principle that counts!). If an initial set-piece attack failed, the usual reaction was horror and frantic backing up to get some distance - close-in stabbing or slashing matches are a bit of a lottery at the best of times.
This is where preparation of attack is useful. A good sharp beat on the opponent's blade as you begin the attack should (*NB: should*) deflect his attack or mess up his defence.
There were few elegant parry-riposte sequences like in the movies. Most of our duels were won by either the first attack or the first parry-riposte (or sometimes, the first awkward-scramble-out-of-the-way-and-desperate-lunge, but it's the principle that counts!). If an initial set-piece attack failed, the usual reaction was horror and frantic backing up to get some distance - close-in stabbing or slashing matches are a bit of a lottery at the best of times.
Eventually, things got rather silly. Certain less scrupulous members of our company decided that it would be fun to gang up on me. There are few people who would describe being chased across a car park into a 'dry' castle moat in the rain, in near-darkness, by a mob of sword-waving loonies as fun, but I guess I'm one of them.
I won't even try to explain what's going on here…
As an interesting but irrelevant footnote, I ran into a couple of the guys from these photos a while back at an engagement party. Small world…
I won't even try to explain what's going on here…
As an interesting but irrelevant footnote, I ran into a couple of the guys from these photos a while back at an engagement party. Small world…
