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The Boombox Project: The Machines, the Music, and the Urban Underground Abrams Lyle Owerko Jahr: 2014 Sprache: english Datei: EPUB, 19.36 MB Ihre Tags: 0 / 0

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THE MEDIEVAL
LONGSWORD
NEIL GRANT

THE MEDIEVAL
LONGSWORD

NEIL GRANT

Series Editor Martin Pegler
Illustrated by Peter Dennis

CONTENTS
INTRODUCTION

4

DEVELOPMENT

6

Forging the Queen of Weapons

USE

19

Hot blood and cold steel

IMPACT

64

At the sharp end

CONCLUSION

75

BIBLIOGRAPHY

78

INDEX

80

INTRODUCTION

4

From King Arthur’s Excalibur to the lightsabers of Star Wars, swords have
always had a special status. The sword is the iconic medieval weapon – a
cultural impact that appears in everything from pre-Raphaelite paintings
to fantasy video games, even if spears or pollaxes were actually more
common or more effective in reality. The sword’s symbolic role in dubbing
ceremonies to create new knights or when carried in procession before
great nobles cannot obscure its ultimate purpose as a weapon intended to
kill. Moreover, swords continually evolved to achieve this more effectively,
competing with improved armour designed to prevent this.
This evolution ultimately led to the longsword. Other weapons
might be more effective in particular roles, but the longsword’s great
strength was its versatility. It was light enough to use one-handed alone
or with a buckler (a very small shield used as a parrying weapon), or
when mounted. It could be used two-handed to deliver stronger blows
or apply leverage to rotate around an opponent’s parry. It was carried
as a secondary weapon alongside longbow or lance. Specialized
longsword styles even arose specifically for use against opponents clad
in full armour.
Longswords first appeared with any frequency around 1300. A 1305
reference to ‘grans espée d’allemagne’ suggests that these ‘great swords’
may initially have developed in Germany, perhaps to counter the better
armour which appeared at roughly the same time and in the same places.
Longswords became more common alongside this improved armour, and
appeared throughout the 14th and 15th centuries. Forms adapted through
time, with earlier examples optimized for heavy cutting strokes, whereas
later examples;  were more sharply tapered for thrusting against vulnerable
points in plate armour. They also tended to become longer in both blade
and grip, until some late examples were almost as long as two-handed
swords proper. Longswords continued into the late 16th and early 17th
centuries as sporting weapons, though they lost most of their practical

battlefield application
with the decline of
armour, and were
supplanted as civilian
duelling weapons by
the rapier.
Understanding how
weapons were used is as
important as studying
their physical forms.
Indeed, two-handed use
of the longsword
allowed (and required)
new styles of fighting.
Historically, study of
medieval swordsmanship
has
been
rather
problematic. Victorian
sport fencers viewed
everything in terms of
evolution towards the
‘perfection’ of their own
time. They over-valued
the thrust, frowned on ‘ungentlemanly’ grappling techniques which formed
an important part of the fully integrated medieval fighting systems, and
glossed over the ineffectiveness of rapiers against armoured opponents. This
led the swordsman and author Egerton Castle to claim in 1885 that the
fighting styles of the medieval period were rough and untutored, relying on
brute strength and heavy swords rather than skill (Castle 2003: 5). Besides
being grossly unjust to the sophisticated fighting techniques actually used,
such claims fixed the idea that medieval swords were enormously heavy in
the public mind. Though it was as inaccurate as images of medieval knights
being winched onto shire-sized warhorses, the incorrect idea of ‘15lb
medieval swords’ proved remarkably durable.
In the 20th century, enthusiasm for Japanese martial arts led their
aficionados to claim that surviving traditions of Japanese swordsmanship
were far superior to their (largely incorrect) idea of medieval European
techniques, and to attribute near-magical properties to the Japanese
katana. Hollywood has done medieval combat few favours either, with
fight choreography emphasizing what looks ‘cool’ and spectacular at the
expense of realism.
The study of Historical European Martial Arts (HEMA) has really
only taken off in the last few decades, as the internet has made the wealth
of original treatises in libraries and collections available to researchers and
allowed widely scattered enthusiasts to share and critique each other’s
interpretations. This book cannot teach longsword fighting, though the
Bibliography (see pages 78–79) provides a starting point. Instead, it is an
introduction to the longsword both as a weapon and a tactical, economic
and social artefact.

Saint Fremund, a 9th-century saint
and hermit and reputedly the son
of King Offa of Mercia (r. 757–96),
and his companions demonstrate
the various ways in which
longswords can be used, delivering
thrusts and cuts with one or both
hands, urged on by angels also
wielding longswords in this
illustration from a manuscript
recounting the lives of Saints
Edmund and Fremund and
produced as a gift to King Henry VI
of England (r. 1422–61), c.1434.
(© British Library Board/Bridgeman
Images, Harley 2278, f.86v)

5

DEVELOPMENT

Forging the Queen of Weapons

THE EVOLUTION OF THE SWORD

6

By the time of the Late Roman Empire (3rd–5th centuries AD), the classic
thrusting gladius (short sword) had been replaced by the longer cut-andthrust cavalry spatha. The latter was a straight sword the small cross-guard
of which served largely to prevent the user’s hand from sliding forward
onto the blade, and which remained in use into the Migration period
(5th–7th centuries AD). The spatha evolved into the ‘Carolingian’ or
‘Viking’ sword, with relatively wide, heavy blades with roughly parallel
edges and short handguard. Their short grips ‘locked’ the user’s hand onto
the weapon, and the relatively light pommel shifted the balance towards
the point, optimizing these weapons for slashing cuts, though their
rounded points could thrust perfectly well against unarmoured targets;
acutely pointed blades were needed only against armour. Such weapons
were relatively expensive; Carolingian law priced a sword and scabbard
at 7 gold solidi – roughly six months’ wages for a craftsman – which
restricted these weapons to the wealthy, who might also be able to afford
mail shirts. Meanwhile, poorer warriors carried a spear or the singleedged langsaex (Old English for ‘long knife’), and relied on a shield
for defence.
By 1000, these weapons had evolved into the classic ‘knightly’ sword,
with longer cross-guards to protect the hand, and disc-shaped pommels.
These larger, heavier pommels were set further back behind longer grips,
balancing the weapon for both cut and thrust, while points became more
acute to penetrate mail better. As knights generally fought mounted, with
light lances as their primary weapon, single-handed swords were good
secondary weapons after the lance broke, or in tight mounted mêlées
where lances would be too cumbersome. The armour available – long
mail coats over padding, and sometimes mail leggings – offered decent

protection against cutting blows. Warriors supplemented their armour
with large shields carried on their left arm, especially to fend off arrows
and crossbow bolts, or to counter strong thrusts from lances or swords
which could burst individual mail rings apart.
Several things happened around 1300 that changed this situation.
First, tactical changes meant that while cavalry retained a shock-action
role, and remained vital for scouting and pursuit, infantry became much
more important on the battlefield. English writers often link this rise in
importance with the longbow, but Flemish and Swiss infantry armies
seemed equally capable of winning battles without that particular weapon.
Second, the quality and effectiveness of armour improved, with ‘coats of
plates’ and articulated limb defences supplementing mail, and ultimately
replacing it, with entire plate ‘harness’ being in general use by the early
1400s. This new armour spread the force of impacts more effectively, and
incorporated angled surfaces to deflect projectiles and thrusts harmlessly
away. Knights had discarded shields before then, allowing them to use
two-handed weapons, which could deliver extra force to defeat betterarmoured opponents. Third, the improvements in metallurgy that resulted
in better armour also made it both cheaper and easier to produce longer
sword blades.
Some single-handed swords evolved into what are generally called
‘arming swords’, with sharply tapering blades. These weapons penetrated
better when used to thrust and the combination of tapered blades and
relatively large pommels moved the weight back towards the hand,
making the ‘arming sword’ more manoeuvrable at the cost of reduced
weight in the cut. Other single-handed swords developed in the opposite
direction, becoming single-edged falchions which relied on heavy blades
that swelled toward the tip for maximum cutting effectiveness, but at the
cost of being too unbalanced to thrust well.
The three developments mentioned above resulted in longer swords,
however, which could be used in one hand while mounted, but for which
a second hand could be added when used on foot if necessary. These
‘longswords’ started to appear from the 1250s, became most popular
from 1370–1440 (when they rivalled one-handed swords for popularity
in art) and continued until after 1500, when gunpowder weaponry
changed the nature of battle. The distinguishing longsword characteristic
was the longer grip, rather than a longer blade, though the two often went
together. Placing the second hand onto the hilt allowed more strength to
be applied and also increased the leverage exerted by the rear hand,
potentially making them very manoeuvrable weapons.
Medieval weapons were not made to standard patterns, and evolved
through time as technology progressed. Early longswords – especially
those made before 1300 – resembled large versions of contemporary
single-handed swords, with relatively broad parallel-sided or slightly
tapered blades, apparently still primarily intended to deliver strong cuts
against mail. Later longswords (after 1350) gained blades that tapered
notably throughout their length to a sharp point and had diamond-shaped
blade sections, creating strong and rigid thrusting weapons optimized for
use against opponents clad in plate armour. Finally, in about 1400 the

7

Two-handed sword-strokes
delivered more power once sword
grips became long enough to
accommodate both hands. The
knights depicted are allegorical
representation of two virtues
defeating two vices in ‘The
Victory of Humility over Pride’
from the Speculum Virginium
(‘Mirror of Virgins’), a text on
female monastic life from c.1200.
(Kestner-Museum, Hanover
Inv.-Nr. 3984/Wikimedia/Public
Domain)

8

preference swung to ‘all purpose’ cut-and-thrust types, with sharp points
for thrusting but which were wide and flat enough at the blade’s centre of
percussion to cut well.
Some writers stated that swords should be proportionate to the user,
and thus defined sword lengths in terms of the user’s body. Contrary to
myth, however, medieval people were not significantly shorter than people
of today – height declined with poor diet during the Industrial Revolution
(c.1780–c.1840), and did not recover until the 1940s. The maximum
length for general-purpose longswords was limited by what could be
drawn from a scabbard, but later manuals depict longswords that were
too long to carry easily in a belt scabbard, and which were apparently
specialist duelling weapons.
Fiore dei Liberi da Premariacco, writing in about 1410, taught his
single-handed and mounted techniques with the same relatively short
longswords as used in his armoured fighting techniques, which prevented
these weapons from being too long or heavy. Depictions in art and
surviving effigies suggest swords with pommels 3–4in above the navel
when the tip rested on the ground, and grips just under a handspan
(approximately 9in) long. By contrast, Philippo di Vadi, another Italian
fencing master, writing around 1485, stated that swords should come to
the armpit when the point rested on the ground, including grips a
handspan long, and those illustrated by Joachim Meyer, a German
fencing master, in his 1570 longsword manual Gründtliche Beschreibung
der Kunst des Fechtens (‘Thorough Descriptions of the Art of Fencing’),
seem to be of a similar length. Indeed, Vadi actually states that longer
swords are more dangerous to fight against (Windsor 2018: 176).
Longer swords led to changes in fighting techniques, and it is unlikely
that these very big longswords were usable one-handed. Context is
important, however: Fiore envisaged the same sword being used on foot
and mounted, whereas Vadi and Meyer only show foot combat, and

therefore swords optimized for that particular role. The English
nobleman George Silver, though, in his Paradoxes of Defence (1599),
described longswords with the same blade length as single-handed
swords, but longer hilts, entailing weapons much closer to those of Fiore.
Some suggest that short longswords were termed ‘bastard swords’ due
to being neither one thing nor another, but there is little evidence for
coherent use of the term. Indeed, the fact that the fencing master Joseph
Swetnam, in his fencing treatise The Schoole of the Noble and Worthy
Science of Defence (1617), had to define bastard swords (longer than
short swords, but shorter than longswords) suggests that his audience
would not understand the term otherwise.
Despite myths of ‘15lb medieval swords’ – originally based on large
and impractical bearing swords which survived exactly because they
were ceremonial items never intended for use in combat – most medieval
longswords were reasonably light. Surviving examples typically weighed
2½–4lb, light enough for easy use in one hand, let alone two. Unusually
heavy swords did exist – the 14th-century historian Jean Froissart
describes the Scottish knight Sir Archibald Douglas delivering enormous
blows with an immense sword no-one else could wield – but they were
the exception. Vadi tells us to select a sword that is light rather than
heavy, so that it can be controlled easily without struggle (Windsor
2018: 177).
Some manuscripts show longswords with unusual features not seen
in surviving examples. The anonymous ‘Gladiatoria’ Fechtbuch
(‘fightbook’) describes unscrewing the pommel of one’s longsword to
throw at an opponent, and the German fencing master Hans Talhoffer
illustrates the threaded tang for such a pommel. This would have
ruined the sword’s balance as a cutting weapon, however, though it
would have remained usable for two-handed thrusting in the armoured
combat these authors depict. Other sources show swords with spiked
cross-guards and pommels for striking opponents more effectively.
Fiore illustrates a sliding semicircular bracelet attached to the midpoint
of the blade to protect the leading hand during half-swording, while
several French and Burgundian accounts of mid-15th-century foot
combats describe longswords with similar rondel guards on their
blades. Fiore and Vadi depict specialized swords for armoured combat,
with spiked pommels and narrow blades that flare out into spearheads
at the tip, like the special swords used for boar hunting. With
practically no cutting edge, these swords are similar to the weapons
described as estocs or tucks, and functioned more like short polearms
than swords. They closely parallel the Ahlspiess (‘awl pike’), a short
spear of German origin with a long head and the rondel handguard
part way down the shaft.
Finally, some of the single-edged German Messer (‘knives’) were large
enough to use two-handed. Known as Kriegsmesser (‘war knives’), these
weapons generally had grips made from scales riveted to either side of a
full-width tang, and often lacked a pommel. Blades might be straight, or
curve slightly. Although Kriegsmesser filled a similar niche to the
longsword, space precludes detailed discussion.

9

OPPOSITE
A selection of longswords.
Starting at the bottom and
working upwards: (1) German,
1350–1400, with an Arabic
inscription commemorating
deposit in the armoury at
Alexandria, Egypt (IX.915); (2)
German, 1300–99 (IX.1084); (3)
1371–99, with recessed insets in
the pommel to take (lost)
decorative insets (IX.1085); (4)
1400–99 (IX.2149); (5) mid14th century (IX.1106); (6)
1400–30, supposedly found in
England (IX.16); (7) decorated
German longsword, c.1480
(IX.949); (8) German longsword,
1480–1520, with small side ring
and finger guard (IX.38); (9)
Venetian longsword, 1500–30
(IX.763). Grips on all but the last
three swords are restorations.
(© Royal Armouries)

10

The standard typology for
medieval swords was created by
the historian and illustrator Ewart
Oakeshott, based on blade form.
Many of the types might be found
with a variety of different pommel
forms and might even have been
re-hilted during their working life;
they are shown here with simple
round pommels. Multiple types
might be in use at any given
point, for different purposes and
situations. (Ewart Oakeshott/
Wikimedia/Public Domain)

THE ANATOMY OF THE SWORD
A sword has two main components, the blade and the hilt.
Longsword blades were usually symmetrical and sharpened on both
edges. The edge closest to one’s knuckles when gripping the sword was
termed the primary edge, true edge or long edge, while the other was
known as the back edge, false edge or short edge. Despite the names, both
edges were the same length. The back edge was used in some strikes, and
a notched or dulled sword could be turned over in the hand so it became
the new primary edge.
Blades generally narrowed in width and in cross-section as they got
further from the hilt. The degree of taper reflected the intended use:
sharply tapered blades would be better for thrusting against armour, but
reduced weight near the tip made them less efficient for cutting, and very
slim points easily broke against armour unless reinforced.
Earlier blades tapered moderately, allowing use for both cut and
thrust. A central groove or fuller often ran down the centre of these blades
from the hilt, usually for half to three-quarters of their length. This groove
both lightened the blade and gave it extra rigidity; structurally, it acted as
an inverted arch. The fuller has been mythologized as a ‘blood groove’
allowing victims to bleed out after being stabbed, or allowing swords to
be withdrawn more easily by ‘breaking the suction’. Neither of these
claims makes practical sense, however – in the first case, internal bleeding
is equally effective, while in the second, what holds swords in the body is
muscle contraction rather than suction.
After the mid-14th century, blades became more sharply tapered and
often gained flattened-diamond or hexagonal cross-sections. They
commonly had thicker blades, and though both types tapered toward the
point in thickness as well as in width, this distal taper is less pronounced
on later blades, increasing rigidity for thrusting. As the mid-rib of the
diamond stiffened the blade, they generally lacked fullers. In the second

9

8

6

5

4

3

2

1

11

quarter of the 15th century some diamond-section blades were so deeply
hollow-ground that they almost resembled flat blades with medial ribs.
The shape of blades determined whether they would be better at
cutting or thrusting, with very specialized weapons – the heavy but
square-pointed executioners’ sword and the edgeless thrusting estoc – at
either extreme. Less tapered blades had more mass at the ‘centre of
percussion’ nearer the tip; more weight further from the hands increased
leverage, and allowed stronger blows for a given amount of
muscular strength.
The cutting edges of blades are effectively wedges that split the target
apart, and wide flat blades with a fuller meant that the wedge could be
longer and thus more acutely angled than diamond-section blades,
reducing friction and cutting deeper for the same effort. This absolutely
does not mean that tapered diamond-section blades could not cut well,
merely that they were less optimized to do so.
Sword points are the same wedge as the edge, but here it is the narrow
tapered blades which have the longer wedge. Thrusting blades must also
be stiff or they will bend rather than penetrate, again favouring the
diamond cross-section. The German tradition divided the exposed section
of the blade into two sections of equal length: the Stärke (‘strong’) from
hilt to middle, and the Schwäche (‘weak’) from middle to tip. Meanwhile,
the Italians divided it into three: the Forte (‘strong’) at the hilt, Mezza
(‘middle’) and Debole (‘weak’) between middle and tip. German sources
recommended parrying with the ‘strong’ of the blade, where the short
distance from the hand helped block an opponent’s strike effectively, and
striking back with the ‘weak’, where longer leverage enhanced the speed
of one’s own cut. The Italian tradition preferred using the ‘middle’ of the
blade, but both depended on circumstance and relative positioning.
A short section of blade nearest the hilt might be left unsharpened in
what was later called a ricasso. This allowed the first finger to be slipped
over the cross for better control at the price of exposing the finger.
The tang was a narrow section at the rear of the blade, opposite the
point. This ran through the grip and pommel, and was hammered over
the rear of the pommel to secure the weapon together. Ideally, the narrow

Two swords in detail (opposite)
Medieval swords were not made to standard patterns, so these can only be examples. The
sword on the left (1) is a relatively early longsword, an Oakeshott Type XIIIa from the late
13th century. Its fullered blade has a relatively limited taper, giving it the weight at the
centre of percussion to deliver a good cut. The enamel insert in the wheel pommel is not
typical, but based on a real example. The sword on the right (2) is a later Oakeshott
Type XVa from the early 15th century. The flattened-diamond-section blade is more notably
tapered to a sharp thrusting point. The gilding on the cross-guard and ‘fishtail’ pommel is
also based on surviving examples. Also shown are two methods of fitting the grip scales to
the tang (3, 4); the grip binding is omitted for clarity. Only a selection of pommel forms is
illustrated here (5).

12

1

3

2

4

5

13

14

body of the tang curved into the wider shoulders of the blade, because
internal angles formed by square corners exaggerated fatigue cracking,
but this was far from universal.
The hilt was made up of three components – the cross, the grip and
the pommel – and might have additional parts such as rainguards or
finger guards.
The cross (sometimes called the ‘quillons’, but this is a post-medieval
term) was a metal bar at the base of the blade, which prevented the user’s
hand sliding forward onto the blade itself, and protected the hand from
an opponent’s sword sliding down the blade towards it. The cross could
also be used to strike opponents; indeed, Vadi recommends sharpening the
ends for exactly that purpose. 15th-century examples are sometimes bent
into horizontal S-shapes, and late longswords – from the late 15th century
onwards, especially in Spain and Italy – might supplement the cross with
finger rings mounted in line with the blade to protect fingers used in
ricasso grips, or by side rings perpendicular to the blade, protecting the
hand. Longswords rarely acquired the complex hilts of later rapiers and
broadswords; these impeded the two-handed grip that made longswords
so effective, while knights’ hands might be protected by armoured
gauntlets.
The grip itself usually had a wooden core. This could be made in two
halves, hollowed out for the tang and glued together on either side of it.
Alternatively, one-piece grips had holes drilled centrally, slightly
narrower than the tang, which was heated and pushed into the grip to
burn itself a perfect fit against the interior. Sword grips were ovoid,
automatically aligning the blade edge in the hand to deliver a good cut.
(By contrast, blunt weapons such as maces had cylindrical handles, as it
did not matter which part struck the opponent.) The wooden grip core
was then wrapped tightly in cord coated with glue, and finally a leather
outer, applied wet for a tight fit when the leather dried and shrank.
There might be a final wrapping of cord or metal wire above the leather,
and the grip might have distinct ‘stepped’ or ‘waisted’ sections with
different profiles. Swords designed for appearance might have grips of
ivory or polished horn.
The pommel fitted at the far end of the grip, and the protruding end
of the tang was often hammered over it to secure the weapon together.
The pommel counterbalanced the weight of the blade, improving the
weapon’s manoeuvrability. It could also be used to strike an opponent
after parrying their sword with the blade. Long grips permitted the use
of a second hand, and also moved the weight of the pommel further
from the blade. Like sliding weights along a scale, this allowed a
lighter pommel to have the same effect as a heavier one closer to
the blade.
Pommels need not be hard steel, and might be cheaper iron or even
latten (brass). Many earlier longsword pommels were flat wheel types, but
shapes proliferated in the 15th century, including ‘fishtail’ designs and
spherical pommels which worked as rear grips, allowing the hands to
move further apart and increase leverage for some techniques. High-status
swords might have their pommels silvered or gilded, or inlaid with

METALLURGY AND THE LONGSWORD
The ideal sword blade needed to be both hard (to resist deforming

blades of the Dark Ages (5th–10th centuries AD). This was labour

or bending) and tough (to resist brittleness or fracturing), and

intensive, however, and fell from use before 1000, when better,

needed to take and retain a good edge. The optimal material to

more homogenous steels became available. An entire sword

meet these requirements was a low-carbon (0.6–0.8 per cent)

blank could be made from iron and carburized as a unit, but

steel, but this was difficult to produce with early medieval

though this was cheaper and simpler, it was not really suitable

technology, as shown by Viking saga accounts of swords bending

for blades because only a relatively thin outer layer of the steel

in use and being straightened under a foot.

carburized, and this quickly wore away with repeated re-

Medieval people thought steel was a ‘purified’ form of iron and
that the heat of the furnace was burning out impurities, whereas
the reverse is actually true and it is an alloy. The atoms in a piece

sharpening. Some blades simply had steel edges forge-welded to
an iron core.
By the Late Middle Ages (as early as 1200 in Scandinavia, but

of pure iron can slide over each other relatively easily, making it

later elsewhere), bloomery forges became larger. Because heat

relatively ductile and easy to work. Adding a small amount of

produced increases with the volume of the furnace, and heat loss

carbon creates a matrix which prevents the iron atoms moving over

increases with surface area, bigger furnaces achieved higher

each other so easily, creating the much harder alloy steel. Steel

temperatures. Larger furnaces also meant the semi-molten iron

can also be further hardened by quenching, whereas iron cannot.

absorbed more carbon while draining through them, lowering its

Adding too much carbon increases hardness, but also makes the

melting point to around 1,150°C. When combined with using water

metal too brittle for use in swords.

power to supply a stronger air blast, these early blast furnaces

Iron ore is widely found, generally in the form of iron oxides, but
unfortunately the melting point of iron is 1,538°C, effectively
impossible to achieve without a blast furnace. Early medieval iron-

produced molten pig iron which could be separated from the
molten slag floating on top of the iron.
Unfortunately, this pig iron contained 3–4 per cent carbon,

making therefore used the bloomery method. This used clay or

making it too brittle to forge immediately, and had to be treated in

stone furnaces, with air pipes (tuyeres) near the bottom. The

a finery where an oxidizing blast drew out some of the carbon,

furnace was pre-heated with charcoal, wood partially burned in

causing the liquid pig iron to re-solidify as the loss of carbon

sealed ‘charcoal clamps’ with limited oxygen to drive out water and

increased the melting point. Overall, this ‘indirect process’

reduce it to relatively pure carbon.

extracted iron from ore more efficiently and was more economical

The furnace was loaded with roughly equal proportions of
charcoal and crushed iron ore in layers and set alight, with air

in fuel, reducing cost per unit significantly.
The alternative ‘crucible method’ involved heating wrought iron

being sucked in through the tuyeres via natural draught or forced

and pig iron together in a sealed container for prolonged periods

in by bellows to increase the heat of the fire. The incomplete

until both were semi-molten, effectively ‘averaging’ their carbon

burning of the charcoal produced carbon monoxide, which

levels. This was never perfect, however, and led to high- and low-

combined with the oxide ores to give carbon dioxide plus metallic

carbon bands, which had to be homogenized by repeatedly folding

iron, thus allowing smelting despite not reaching the melting

and hammering the steel to create multiple layers. This was a

point of the iron. The small iron particles collected at the furnace

much slower process and produced small batches of steel (perhaps

bottom as part of an impure porous ‘bloom’ containing iron,

only enough for a single sword), but examples are known from

silicate slag and carbon. Once the furnace cooled, these blooms

before 1000.

were reheated in a forge and hammered to drive out the molten

Whatever the method, a lack of measuring equipment and

non-metallic slag. The process generally produced wrought iron,

precise process control meant that medieval steels suffered from

with negligible carbon content. This was then carburized by

variable carbon content, and could not match the quality of

packing pieces of charcoal or similar organic material around rods

modern steels.

of wrought iron and heating them, so that carbon transferred into
the surface of the iron, turning it into steel. Some wrought iron
tended to self-carburize during the initial bloomery process, but
this was undependable.
As carbon was absorbed primarily at the surface, the outside
of the rods became hard steel, but the non-carburized interiors
remained softer but tougher. A number of such rods could be
heated and hammered together to forge-weld them into a
suitable sword blank, producing the famous ‘pattern-welded’

15

decorative enamel and glass. A few even contained compartments for
small holy relics or charms, making them spiritual as well as
physical defences.
Finally, swords might be fitted with small circular ‘rainguards’ of
leather or (less frequently) sheet metal, folded in half over the cross of the
sword. The conventional explanation is that these covered the scabbard
mouth, protecting the sword within from rain, but this has been disputed
and some see them as giving limited protection to the fingers.

FORGING A SWORD

A medieval anvil and forge
complete with chimney and
bellows from the Holkham Bible of
c.1330, showing the smith’s wife
making nails to attach Christ to the
cross. A real forge would obviously
be larger than this stylized
depiction, but female smiths and
armourers do appear in the
documentary record. (© British
Library Board/Bridgeman Images,
Add.47682, f.31)

16

Swords were made using charcoal-fired forges, with an apprentice
working leather bellows to blow extra air into the forge for increased
heat. The lack of measuring equipment meant that smiths had to judge
temperatures based on the colour of the hot metal, and forges were often
kept dim so this could be seen more clearly. They were usually well
ventilated – sometimes with open sides – to let heat and smoke escape.
Smiths rarely smelted their own iron, but began with a steel balk or
blank, thicker but shorter and narrower than the finished sword, because
the metal spread during the hammering process. This was heated to
yellow-orange heat in the forge, then transferred to the anvil for
hammering. The pieces had to be returned to the forge frequently; ‘striking
while the iron is hot’ was not a metaphor when talking about smith work,
and hammering the metal after it dropped below critical temperature
risked shattering the steel. Smiths counted strikes as they hammered out
the blade, and turned it over regularly so more strikes on one side did not
cause the blade to curve or become asymmetric. Fullers were hammered
into the metal with rounded dies, and the smith shaped the rough bevels
of point and edges, doing as much as possible with the hammer because

SWORDSMITHS AND MANUFACTURERS
Like other manufactured goods during the Middle Ages, swords

individual journeymen were employed to make helmets, gauntlets

were produced by a guild system that passed on the ‘mysteries’ of

or other specific items, while polishing was another separate

each craft and assured standards of quality. The guilds also

speciality. Rather than swords being made from start to finish by

protected local craftsmen from ‘unfair’ competition from outsiders,

a single craftsman, it seems that completed blades were passed

cared for aged or infirm members, and even possessed real

on to different craftsmen for polishing, hilting and decoration.

political power in some European cities. Members followed their

While famous armourers could become rich, smithcraft was not

fathers into the craft, or joined as apprentices in their early teens,

especially prestigious; Pietro Monte, a 15th-century master of

signing indentures with masters who taught them the trade in

arms, described it as a lesser art, quick to learn and low paying.

return for a set period of service, usually five or seven years.

Whereas armour evolved into several regional styles, the same

Apprenticing into lucrative or prestigious trades often required

sword forms are found across Europe. Good armour required

paying premiums to the master, or was restricted to relatives of

careful fitting for optimal movement but the same sword could be

existing members.

used by anybody.

Apprentices often lived in the master’s home, and guild rules

The trade in weapons is less documented than the trade in

governed their treatment to prevent exploitation. After

armour, but we have accounts of sword blades being produced

completing apprenticeship, craftsmen became journeymen (from

in large quantities in the great metalworking centres such as

journée, ‘day’ in French) who could then work for any master for a

Innsbruck in Austria, Milan and Brescia in Lombardy, Passau,

daily rate. After several years, journeymen produced ‘master

Cologne and Augsburg in Germany and Bordeaux in France.

pieces’ as proof of their skills, and became master craftsmen,

These were generally located near high-quality iron-ore

able to set up their own workshop and take on their own

sources, though the concentration of expertise helped maintain

apprentices and journeymen. Master craftsmen’s wives and

their dominance. High volumes allowed these centres to invest

daughters might also practise their trade; Katherine of Bury,

in new technologies, such as water-powered trip hammers and

mother of King Edward III of England’s (r. 1322–77) smith, was

polishing wheels, while in the Lombard towns large armourers

paid 8d per day to keep up the King’s forge at the Tower of

effectively freed themselves from guild constraints and

London and carry on the work of the forge while her son was

produced munition-quality armour and weapons by something

absent with the King during the Crécy campaign of 1346–47, as

approaching mass production. From these centres, semi-

did Margaret Merssh, who ran the forge at the Tower while her

finished sword blades were packed in barrels for shipping, to be

husband was away on the Agincourt campaign of 1415. The York

polished, hilted and finished locally to the purchaser’s

Freemen’s Register records two female armourers in the

specification.

15th century: Margareta Langshawe in 1436 and Johanna
Armorer in 1488.
Most guilds restricted the size of workshops – the statutes of
Nuremberg in Germany prevented masters taking on more than
one apprentice and two journeymen, for example, while the
English Ordinance of Founders of 1390 allowed masters only one
apprentice, or two if they had no wife – thus preventing
individuals dominating the trade. Guild craftsmen often had
narrow specialisms and were forbidden to encroach on another
guilds’ work. London had 14 separate guilds involved in various
forms of ironworking by 1422; armourers were not permitted to
make weapons, and vice versa.
Masters were supposed to mark their work to prove items
were manufactured by guild tradesmen rather than by ‘strangers’
with no right to work in a particular city, and so guilds could
track shoddy work, but the lack of marks on surviving swords and
the frequent re-issue of such rules show this was not always
done. Armourers’ marks on plate armour are more likely to survive
and show almost every piece was made by separate specialists,
then assembled, heat-treated and finished. Contracts show that

A sword being ground on a large hand-cranked grinding wheel in a
manuscript, c.1250. Such wheels would be used to apply the main
bevels before switching to finer whetstones for sharpening. Waterpowered grinding wheels appeared later, but required significant
investment. (Hulton Archive/Getty Images)

17

Various weapons existed to fill
the same niche as the classic
longsword, but without following
its classic form. From left to right:
a South German single-edged
Grosse Messer (‘large knife’),
c.1480–1520, with a pommel-less
grip made from two scales riveted
to the gilt and a small shell guard
on the cross (IX.5608); a curved
single-edge sabre from Flanders,
c.1500, with engraved decoration
on the blade just above the cross
(IX.634); a boar sword, c.1530–70,
with crosspiece to prevent overpenetration (IX.5391); and a
blunt-tipped executioner’s sword,
1600–40 (IX.35), with the
inscription MEFECET SOLINGEN
(‘Solingen Made Me’) inscribed in
the shallow fuller. The
resemblance between the boar
sword and the special swords for
fighting in armour shown by Vadi
is obvious. (© Royal Armouries)

18

grinding blades afterwards was
labour intensive in the absence of
modern belt grinders.
Unlike iron, steel can be
hardened by quenching, in which
very rapid cooling leads to the
formation of very small-grained
crystals, which increase rigidity as
they do not easily slide over each
other. Once primary shaping was
complete, the sword was heated,
then plunged into water to quench
it. This significantly increased
hardness at the price of making it
rather brittle. Tempering the
sword after quenching by
reheating to a lower temperature
annealed the stresses within it,
removing some of the hardness but
the majority of the brittleness,
giving a hard, tough blade.
Quenching was done point first to
avoid blades distorting as one side
cooled first. There is no evidence
for differential quenching as done
with Japanese katana, where the blunt back edge was covered in clay to
shield it during quenching, so only the cutting edge was hardened.
‘Slack Quenching’, where the sword was cooled less drastically – either
by letting it cool a little before quenching, or using quenching media such
as linseed or olive oil, boiling water or even molten lead which did not
draw out heat as fast – produced blades which were less hard, but also
less brittle, and did not need a tempering process. Apart from saving time,
it removed the risks of distortion and ‘over-tempering’ the steel by
removing too much hardness. Alternatively, the blade could be quenched
immediately but removed from the quench tank after only short
immersion; heat then travelled out from the still-hot core of the weapon,
and it would ‘self temper’ itself. Some authorities suggested quenching in
wine or urine, or suggested plant or mineral additives to improve the
quenching liquid. While some additives were based on superstition, others
might actually improve results by reducing the steam envelope that formed
around the red-hot blade when it was put into the quenching medium.
The blade was cleaned to remove forge scale and given a final shaping
by grinding, either by hand or on a wheel, before the grip and pommel
were added, very possibly by a craftsman in another town after the semifinished blade was sold onward. Cross-guards were formed from iron bars
with slots driven through the centre with a punch. This slot slid over the
tang and the cross was hammered lightly down while hot, giving a tight
fit once the metal cooled and shrank. Finally, the sword was polished with
abrasives before sharpening with a series of steadily finer whetstones.

USE

Hot blood and cold steel

MEDIEVAL FIGHTING BOOKS
Numerous medieval fightbooks (Fechtbücher in German, singular
Fechtbuch) are known. The earliest surviving example is an anonymous
early-14th-century Latin I.33 manuscript, teaching sword-and-buckler
fighting. These books were part of a widespread tradition of instructional
manuscripts covering falconry, household management, courtesy and
other skills, but are not ‘instruction manuals’ in the modern sense. They
assume some previous knowledge of sword fighting, so there is little
mention of footwork despite its importance. Nor are techniques always
explained clearly for the novice – as differing modern interpretations of
the same fightbooks show – and they are better regarded as ‘memory

Created in Germany in the early
14th century, the anonymous
Latin I.33 manuscript is the
earliest surviving fight manual,
teaching sword-and-buckler
fighting. Interestingly, the
fighters illustrated include a
priest and a woman, the latter
labelled as ‘Walpurgis’.
(© Royal Armouries I.33)

19

aids’ to help readers practise advanced techniques they had already
been shown.
Literacy was reasonably common among the middle and upper
classes by the 15th century, especially because most fightbooks were
written in vernacular languages (primarily German and Italian) rather
than Latin. Although the first printing-presses appeared in the 1440s,
only the last fightbooks covering the longsword were printed, on
relatively cheap paper. Most were hand-written by professional scribes
on parchment, which limited the number of copies produced, and meant
they were relatively expensive. This was especially true for those
illustrated by professional artists. As with elaborately illuminated
medieval liturgical books, such high production values did not prevent
them being functional, but reminds us that they served social as well as
purely practical roles.
For rich patrons, possession of high-quality fightbooks symbolized
wealth and status, emphasizing the owner’s interest in prestigious knightly
activities. For fighting masters, lack of copyright meant most profit in
producing books went to the scribe rather than the author. Dedicating or
presenting elaborate copies to wealthy patrons was, however, an
acknowledged way to gain return gifts or positions in the recipient’s service.

How representative are the fightbooks?

20

Joachim Meyer emphasized that fencing must be learned through
practice, not just from books. Fiore said that one needed books to be a
good teacher or a good student, as the art was so vast that one could
keep only one-quarter of it in the memory, but that only one of his
students owned a fighting book. Each hand-copied fightbook might be
read by only a few people. On the other hand, medieval books often had
long working lives and might equally be used by a whole series of owners
and their students.
Few men were regarded as ‘masters’: several fightbooks are scathing
of poor-quality teachers, and of Büffel (‘buffaloes’), unskilled swordsmen
relying upon strength and aggression. Did the techniques depicted in the
fightbooks really represent those used by the average man? Johannes
Liechtenauer – the most famous German master – says that he purposely
wrote using secret and hidden words so that not everyone would
understand it, and to prevent frivolous fighting masters sharing it with
unworthy people (Tobler 2010: 95). Every master had an obvious vested
interest in presenting himself as the best available teacher, however,
because nobody wanted to learn from the second-best master.
Fiore explicitly says that he taught students privately, so his techniques
would not become widely known. This was understandable when training
students for judicial duels, as knowing how they trained might help
opponents. His clear structure of masters and counter-masters shows that
he taught counters to his own techniques, however. Unless he was training
students to fight each other, or teaching counters to moves they would
never meet, then at least some techniques shown by his initial masters
must have been in general use.

These fighters from Hans
Talhoffer’s 1459 manuscript have
very different weapons, despite
apparently being in a formal
fighting ring. The spearman had
the advantage of longer reach,
but was in real trouble if the
swordsman managed to deflect
the first thrust and step inside the
spear’s range. (Hans Talhoffer/
Wikimedia/Public Domain)

Where fightbooks were intended to solicit patronage, they may have
acted as much as résumés as textbooks and were thus likely to emphasize
clever and exceptional techniques, rather than the commonplace. Some
techniques might thus be less common than the sources suggest, however,
just as modern aircraft pilots spend much time practising drills for
emergencies which rarely occur.
The fightbooks are valuable resources for understanding medieval
sword fighting, but cannot be used uncritically. Even those with
illustrations show one step in a series of actions, forcing us to reconstruct
the rest. The pictures themselves can be misleading. Perspective drawing
was not fully developed and they are better understood as diagrams rather
than photo-realistic depictions. Figures may be moved apart to show
moves clearly, or closer to avoid wasting space. Arms can be
disproportionately long to demonstrate locks, while swords grow or
shrink to suit the move shown. Pairs of unrelated figures are sometimes
placed opposite each other, simply to make best use of the page.
When talking of regional ‘traditions’ of longsword techniques, we
should remember these areas were well connected in the medieval period.
Fiore learned from German and Italian masters, and London masters
complained of foreign teachers in their city. Such traditions are thus
unlikely to be completely independent. Indeed, it is better to think of the
traditions as lineages of masters taking different approaches – while the
Liechtenauer lineage is the best known German tradition, it was not
the only one.
Space precludes detailed discussion of individual masters and texts,
and the comments here must inevitably be generalizations. There was
considerable variation over the century or more of practice covered by
each tradition, as they evolved through time and each master emphasized
the aspects that best suited his personal circumstances. Much of this is lost
to us now, as we can only reconstruct the traditions tentatively from
written sources.

21

The German tradition
German Fechtbücher are the most prolific, with masters recognized as
authorities on particular specialisms. For example, grappling and wrestling
generally followed the methods of Jude Ott (‘Ott the Jew’), the 15thcentury wrestling master to the Dukes of Austria. The acknowledged
master of the German longsword tradition was Johannes Liechtenauer.
We have no direct works by him, and are told he did not invent his art
himself, but learned it by studying and travelling widely, perhaps
systematizing existing older oral traditions.
The first record of Liechtenauer’s teaching is the Nuremberg Hausbuch
(MS 3227a), sometimes called the ‘Döbringer’ text. This is a ‘commonplace
book’ containing a variety of material, including alchemical and medicinal
recipes, magical formulae, methods for hardening iron and a treatise on
fireworks, as well as material on grappling, sword and dagger fighting. It
is usually dated to 1389 from a calendar within, but the book contains
material from multiple sources and elements may be decades earlier or
later. As the lack of a conventional blessing on Liechtenauer’s name
suggests he was alive when the book was produced, this has obvious
implications for dating the German tradition.
Liechtenauer’s material takes the form of a poem, the Zettel (literally
‘note’) or Merkverse (‘memory verse’), reflecting its role as a memorization
aid in a primarily oral culture. It is intentionally cryptic, however, to
prevent the uninitiated from learning the techniques presented. The
Nuremberg Hausbuch is not illustrated, and it is unlikely we could
reconstruct Liechtenauer’s system without later material. Fortunately,
later writers added interpretative ‘glosses’ to the Zettel when reproducing
it. This ‘original plus explanatory gloss’ was a common way to explain
authoritative older material such as biblical texts in the Middle Ages.
The first major surviving ‘glossed’ version of Liechtenauer’s material

Guards of the German tradition (opposite)
The four primary guards of the German tradition were Alber (‘Fool’; 1), Pflug (‘Plough’; 2), Ochs
(‘Ox’; 3, 4), and Vom Tag (‘from the Roof’; 5). All except Ochs could be performed as reversed
left and right versions, and Vom Tag had a variant with both hands above the head. Later
sources added further positions, notably Nebenhut (‘Tail Guard’; 6) and Schrankhut (‘Barrier
Guard’; 7). Ideally, one began in a guard, struck the foe and ended in another guard, still able
to defend oneself.
Several fightbooks depict unusual weapons. Fiore shows a sword with a sharp edge except
for a section forming a grip for the hand (8); another with a blunt blade apart from the flared 6in
section nearest the tip, and fitted with a sliding protective guard (9); and something that is
described as both a pollaxe and a sword (10), the last being a large weapon, roughly the height
of the man wielding it. Vadi’s sword for combat in armour (11) has a flared spearpoint tip, and
both pommel and cross are sharpened. Talhoffer shows two swords with rondels to protect the
hand in half-swording (12), and a sword with a spiked pommel apparently on a screw thread (13).
Presumably this could be unscrewed and thrown, as described in the ‘Gladiatoria’ Fechtbuch.
The spiked pommels shown in Codex Wallerstein (14) seem almost tame by comparison.

22

1

2

4

7

5

3

6

8
9
10
11
12
13
14

23

Unarmoured longsword fighting
depicted in Hans Talhoffer’s 1467
manuscript, created for Graf
Eberhardt von Württemberg. Note
how the blades flare to form
wider Schildt (‘shield’) shapes
near the hilts, and the thumb
placed on the flat of the blade.
(Hans Talhoffer/Wikimedia/Public
Domain)

24

is found in another compilation manuscript of 1452, usually if incorrectly
attributed to ‘Peter von Danzig’ but including sections from several
masters. The other main gloss strand appears in a text attributed to
‘Sigmund ain Ringeck’, although again the most common text (MS
Dresden C 487) is actually by several masters. It dates from 1504–19 but
preserves earlier material from the 1440s. Similar material appears in
several other manuscripts, with differences due to manual copying and
independent revision of the basic material.
Hans Talhoffer produced fightbooks in 1446, 1459 and 1467, covering
spear, pollaxe, flail and spiked duelling shields as well as long and short
swords, dagger and grappling. His books also depict an armoured judicial
duel in detail, and an odd (and possibly imaginary) judicial combat
between a club-armed man in a hole and a woman with a rock wrapped
in a cloth sling. His lavishly illustrated books were widely reproduced in
modern times but the captions are brief and uninformative. His books
probably served as visual aids rather than being used in isolation, and it
is difficult to know their relationship with other documents in the
tradition.
The anonymous ‘Gladiatoria’ Fechtbücher group – taking their name
from the best-known member of the group – were produced between
1430 and 1450, all focusing on armoured combat and illustrated in a
similar style. Their relationship to the Liechtenauer sources is unclear;
some plays match Liechtenauer sources closely, while others have no
German equivalents. They may represent a parallel evolution in an
independent tradition, or simply include extra ‘advanced’ moves in a
particular area of specialization.
Perhaps the most lavish fencing manual was produced by Paulus
Hector Mair, a wealthy patrician and treasurer of the city of Augsburg.
He became an avid collector of fencing treatises, and feared that the old
character-building fighting arts were being forgotten. He commissioned a
huge two-volume compendium – the Opus Amplissimum de Arte Athletica
(‘Ultimate Book of the Art of Athletics’) – in the 1540s, hiring two

professional fencers to pose for the well-known artist who illustrated it.
The project took four years to complete, with increasingly elaborate
versions produced in German and Latin. Combined with his extravagant
lifestyle it consumed both his family fortune and large sums embezzled
from the city coffers, before he was finally caught and executed in 1579.
The last major German longsword manual, Thorough Description of
the Art of Fencing, was produced by Joachim Meyer in 1570, as a printed
book with woodcut illustrations. His book covers the then-new rapier
fencing alongside the traditional weapons. Though his teachings are
generally intended for serious self-defence, the longsword was largely
obsolete by this time and Meyer regarded it primarily as a teaching tool.
He covers fighting in armour only very briefly, and restricted thrusts and
pommel strikes as too dangerous.

The Italian tradition
The earliest surviving Italian treatise is ‘The Flower of Battle’ (Flos
Duellatorum or Fior di Battaglia in the Latin and Italian versions,
respectively) by Fiore dei Liberi da Premariacco. Fiore is thought to have
been a member of the minor nobility from northern Italy. He tells us he
trained numerous pupils for chivalric duels, and fought five duels himself
against other masters jealous of his refusal to share his teaching. Four
versions of his book survive. Three copies with numerous inked sketches
apparently date from 1400–10, while the fourth has fully painted

The Segno (‘sign’) from the Getty/
MS Ludwig XV 13 manuscript of
Fiore’s work. It depicts the master
surrounded by seven swords
depicting the lines of the major
cuts; the sword pointing upwards
towards his groin represents a
thrust. He is surrounded by four
animals embodying the cardinal
virtues of a fighter. Clockwise
from the top, they are: a lynx
holding a mason’s dividers
(prudence); a lion with his paw on
a heart (courage); an elephant
bearing a tower (strength); and a
tiger holding an arrow (quickness).
(Sepia Times/Universal Images
Group via Getty Images)

25

illustrations and may be somewhat later. Two are dedicated to Niccolò III,
Marquis d’Este. One is incomplete, and all differ somewhat in
organization. They cover grappling, baton, dagger, swords in both one
and two hands and in armour, azza (‘pollaxe’) in armour, spear, staff and
mounted combat. He even shows an odd pollaxe, its head filled with
caustic powder to blind opponents.
Fiore structured his teachings using a series of crowned ‘masters’. Each
section begins with the crowned ‘Master Battle’ demonstrating a guard,
followed by one or more ‘Remedy Masters’ who shows how to counter
the moves flowing from that guard. Each master is followed by his
students, wearing garters, who demonstrate variations and follow-ups to
the move shown by their respective master. The Contrario (‘Counter
Master’) wearing both crown and garter then shows how to counter the
plays of Master Remedy and his scholars, and is sometimes followed by
his own students. Occasionally a fourth Contra-Contrario (‘Countercounter Master’) appears, demonstrating how to defeat the Counter
Master’s move. The system varies slightly between the extant versions,
with figures crowned in one manuscript but wearing only a scholar’s
garter in another. Fiore puts less emphasis on binding and winding from
crossed blades than the German tradition, while his guard positions (posta
or guardia) are obviously differently named.
Although we know of a lost treatise written in about 1434 by Filippo
di Bartolomeo Dardi, who ran a fencing school in Bologna, the next
surviving work was Philippo di Vadi’s De Arte Gladiatoria Dimicandi
(‘On the Art of Swordsmanship’), dedicated to the Duke of Urbino
between 1482 and 1487. The second half of Vadi’s text derives from

26

One of the crowned masters from
the Getty manuscript of Fiore,
teaching use of the sword in one
hand. (Sepia Times/Universal
Images Group via Getty Images)

A page from Philippo di Vadi’s De
Arte Gladiatoria Dimicandi (‘On
the Art of Swordsmanship’),
dating from the 1480s. As with
the other fighting books, grappling
was an integral part of the
techniques. (Philippo di Vadi/
Wikimedia/Public Domain)

Fiore’s material and some of his illustrations copy Fiore’s almost directly,
though Vadi adds a lengthy introduction including new material. A
preference among the later masters of the Bolognese school for single
sword and buckler, and the early and wholehearted adoption of the rapier
in Italy, meant few of the later Italian treatises covered the longsword in
detail, though several covered the two-handed montante or spadone.

The English tradition
The English tradition is the most difficult to reconstruct, as we have so few
manuscripts. Two come from the mid-15th century, and resemble student’s
notes, bound together with an instructional poem (‘The play with the 2
handsword in verse’, also known as ‘The Man Who Wol’) and various
unrelated material. The early-16th-century ‘Ledall’ manuscript is longer,

27

but still reasonably brief. The texts refer to ‘the toohand Sword’ and
‘Strokes of the ii hand swerd’, but inclusion of apparent single-handed
moves suggests the English material also used the longsword as its primary
weapon. The terminology of ‘Roebucks’, ‘Full Quarter Strokes’ and ‘Dobyl
Rowndes’ is both unique and unclear, and none of the manuscripts have
illustrations to help understand their meaning. The English sources do not
cover fighting mounted or in armour, and do not discuss half-sword work
or guard positions, though this may be a function of limited preservation.
Interestingly, the manuscripts seem to include solo training sequences,
combinations of attacks and footwork practised as set drills without an
opponent to build a mental catalogue of techniques and fix them in muscle
memory, like Asian martial arts katas (choreographed movements).
Finally, George Silver’s Paradoxes of Defence was printed in 1599,
while his later (1605) Bref instructions on my Paradoxes of Defence was
unpublished until 1898. Silver is famous for his strong disapproval of the
then-new Italian rapier, which he regarded as useless except for formal
duels and a poor choice even then, due to risk of mutual kills. As a result,
he was sometimes mocked by Victorian fencing historians, rather unjustly
given that many of his points are perfectly valid. He is best regarded as
the last medieval master, explicitly trying to preserve a fading tradition.
Silver calls the largest sword he teaches a ‘greatsword’, but his description
suggests a longsword rather than a pure two-handed weapon. Silver’s
teaching focused primarily on the single-handed sword rather than
longsword, though he notes that techniques for other weapons such as the
staff can be applied to it.
There seems to be a definite English preference to ‘strike and fly out’,
disengaging quickly after attacks rather than the binding or winding from
crossed swords common in the Liechtenauer tradition, and the grappling
and dagger fighting that figures so prominently in the Italian tradition is
barely discussed.

Other traditions

28

Given the commonality of knightly culture and military equipment, it is
surprising that we lack equivalent treatises from elsewhere in Western
Europe, especially because the two regions where the lack is most obvious
– France and Spain – produced numerous later fencing manuals.
From Burgundy, we have only Le Jeu de la Hache (‘The Play of the
Axe’), written in French c.1400 for Duke Philip II ‘The Bold’ and
describing combat with pollaxes. The only other comparable French
source is Traicte de la Forme de Devis d’un Tournoi (known as the
‘Tournament Book’), dating from about 1460: it describes how to organize
a tournament which King René I of Naples (r. 1435–42) envisaged as a
mêlée fought between two sides rather than as individual jousts. Although
it describes the blunted practice weapons used, it contains no actual
fighting instruction.
We also have the Livro da ensinança de bem cavalgar toda sela (‘Book
of Teachings on Riding Well in Every Saddle’) by King Duarte I of Portugal
(r. 1433–38), left unfinished at his death in 1438. This covers horsemanship

and mounted fighting with sword, javelin and lance,
alongside advice on morality and good government.
Finally, Pietro Monte’s Exercitiorum Atque Artis Militaris
Collectanea (‘Collection of Military Arts and Exercises’,
known as Collectanea for short) was printed in 1509 but
apparently written in the 1490s by a Spaniard living in
Italy. It gives extensive descriptions of weapons, armour
and the principles of their use in battle, alongside other
material including physical training and techniques to
appraise both horses and men.
Even so, an absence of written treatises does not
necessarily mean an absence of interest in fighting skills, or
that they were not practised. For example, longbow
archery was central to English warfare since at least the
1330s, but the first treatise about it was Roger Ascham’s
Toxophilus (‘Lover of the Bow’) of 1545, published when
archery was largely obsolete. Given the focus on single
combat in the surviving fightbooks, the larger number of
books from Germany and Italy may reflect greater interest
in knightly duelling in those countries, but this is no more
than a possibility.

FIGHTING WITH THE LONGSWORD
Medieval fightbooks cover a variety of weapons, but
regard the longsword as most important due to its
versatility. Longsword techniques are not taught in isolation, however,
but alongside grapples and disarms to create an integrated system.
Students are also taught how to use different weapons against each other,
such as longsword versus dagger or spear. Principles learned for one
weapon could be applied to others; Fiore explicitly notes that some sword
techniques can be used for the pollaxe, for example, while students could
apply techniques shown for the machete-like single-handed Messer shown
in some German sources when using longswords one-handed.
Some fightbooks claim to train men for war, and include things such
as men on foot with polearms being attacked by horsemen, and a mounted
crossbowman being attacked by a lancer, which belong only on the
battlefield. The Nuremberg Hausbuch notes the best guards against
multiple opponents and that there is no shame in retreating when
outnumbered, while Vadi (Windsor 2018: 180) says one should prefer
cuts to thrusts against multiple opponents, presumably to avoid your
weapon becoming stuck in one opponent and leaving you defenceless.
Their main focus is one-on-one combat, however, rather than less
structured fights with multiple combatants.
The German Fechtbücher advocated an aggressive fighting style,
telling fighters to seize the initiative and that the best way to survive is by
disposing of opponents as quickly and efficiently as possible. This involved
more than simply speed – a good fighter should not only strike first, he

Wearing Hungarian dress, the
Holy Roman Emperor Maximilian I
(r. 1508–19) stands with his hand
on his longsword in a woodcut
from Der Weisskunig (‘The White
King’), created as a chivalric
propaganda piece in 1505–16.
(Hans Burgkmair/Wikimedia/
Public Domain)

29

should strike second and third as well, keeping himself safe by putting an
opponent on the defensive under a rain of blows to prevent him getting in
any return strikes.
The systems use a series of guards or wards (Leger in German, posta
in Italian). Pietro Monte tells us, however, that no defensive stance or
ward can guarantee the user’s safety, for a swordsman who focuses only
on defence makes his own defeat a certainty (Forgeng 2018: 131). When
one must defend, parries should ideally deflect the opponent’s blade and
continue straight into an attack against the opponent.
Fightbooks show a ‘no holds barred’ style, advocating thrusts at the
face and groin, breaking opponents’ fingers so they cannot hold a sword,
eye-gouging and arm-breaking moves. This is ameliorated later, with
Meyer teaching a restricted sporting version as well as techniques for
lethal combat, but the overall impression is of brutal effectiveness. Every
part of the sword was used to attack – the Nuremberg Hausbuch says that
no part of the sword was invented in vain. The point is used for thrusts,
both edges for cuts and slices; the heavy pommel is used to strike and even
cross-guards are used to hook an opponent or punch like brass knuckles.
Most fightbooks teach several distinct sets of techniques, each adapted
for particular circumstances: fighting unarmoured, fighting in armour and
fighting mounted.
The dark figure starts in the Alber
(‘Fool’) guard, and is attacked by
the light figure with a cut down at
his head. Dark strikes upward,
deflecting the cut and ending in
the Ochs (‘Ox’) guard; note that
this guard must be above his
head, and that he has turned the
blade edge upwards as he strikes
upwards. From Ochs, dark
immediately steps forward and
thrusts his point into light’s heart,
taking care to keep light’s blade
engaged with his own. Dark
would probably step offline as
well as forward. (Author’s
Collection)

30

Unarmoured combat
Unarmoured combat – Blössfechten (‘bare fighting’ in the German
Fechtbücher) – was the foundation of longsword techniques, covered in
almost all sources except specialized examples such as the ‘Gladiatoria’
Fechtbuch. This makes sense, as many could not afford the expensive full
armour required by the harness-fighting techniques. Lightly armed troops
such as archers or crossbowmen would use ‘unarmoured’ techniques even
if they wore some protective gear such as the padded jackets Fiore
describes. It was also the longest-lived of the techniques, continuing as a
‘martial sport’ well into the 16th century, after longswords disappeared
from the battlefield.
Unsurprisingly, unarmoured fighting was also the most dangerous.
Fiore said he would rather fight three times in armour in the lists than one

time in an unarmoured duel with sharp swords. This may, however, have
been partly because an unarmoured duel was more likely to be fought
with lethal intent. Even practice could be dangerous: The social and
cultural historian Ann Tlusty records an inquest into the accidental death
of a journeyman printer during a 1595 longsword match in Augsburg
(Tlusty 2011: 168–71).
The techniques shown mostly have the right hand on the hilt closest
to the cross and the left either below it on the grip or holding the pommel,
though some single-handed moves are also shown. The four primary
guards of the German tradition were Ochs (‘Ox’), Pflug (‘Plough’), Alber
(‘Fool’) and Vom Tag (‘from the Roof’), though later sources add
additional positions. The guards of the Italian tradition have similarities,
but are not identical, and are obviously differently named.
From these positions, a variety of attacks could be launched. The
most important were the five ‘master cuts’, though the term itself is not

Grappling was taught as an
integrated part of longsword
fighting. Dark starts in Vom Tag
(‘from the Roof’) guard, and is
attacked by light. Dark releases
the hilt with his left hand as he
parries, stepping in as he does so.
Dark then rolls the long hilt of his
sword over light’s wrist, and
pushes up and sideways against
light’s elbow with his free left
hand. This puts light into an arm
lock, from which dark could either
force him to his knees, or
disengage his sword for a head
strike before light can recover.
(Author’s Collection)

Longswords being used both oneand two-handed in an Old
Testament battle scene from a
German bible, c.1477. As is
common in medieval biblical
manuscripts, the Israelites are
depicted in contemporary
equipment, while their enemies
are shown with exotic fantasy
clothing and weapons.
(Heidelberg University Library,
Cod. Pal.germ.16, fol.23r)

31

Medieval harness (armour)
offered excellent protection, but
had vulnerable points at the face,
armpits and inner thighs, and
special half-sword techniques
were taught to target these areas
or to wrestle armoured opponents
to the ground where they could be
killed more easily using the rondel
daggers both men wear at their
hips. The illustration comes from
a manuscript, created c.1542 but
based on late-15th-century works
by the German fencing master
Paulus Kal. (Forschungsbibliothek
Gotha der Universität Erfurt,
Chart. B 1021, fol. 21v.)

32

medieval. Such powerful cuts could be immediately incapacitating
against head or limb, putting opponents out of the fight. If such cuts
were parried, the attacker could employ the ‘windings’ which form a
major part of the unarmoured techniques. Effectively, once the attacker’s
blade was parried, he used the strong of his blade against the weak of
the defender’s, taking control of the bind and using the point at which
the swords crossed as a fulcrum for a new attack, often a thrust. Thrusts
were regarded as very dangerous to the recipient, and many moves
ended with a killing thrust. Thrusts did not automatically set up the next
strike as cuts did, however, and though thrusts to the torso might deliver
mortal wounds, these were less likely to be instantly incapacitating than
severe cuts to limbs.
This potentially left the attacker within striking range, unable to parry
because his sword was embedded in his victim, and thus an easy target for
a devastating counter-cut. Any thrust therefore had to be delivered
without leaving the attacker easy meat for a counter-attack. Ideally, this
was done by delivering a thrust that stayed in contact with the opponent’s
blade, keeping it away from any line where it could harm the attacker.
Failing that, one could opt for a quick disengagement, or close with the
victim to ‘choke’ the aforementioned counter-attack before it could be
delivered by immobilizing his sword.
The extended singlehanded lunge so characteristic
of later classical fencing does
not seem to have been used, as
it left the attacker off-balance
and vulnerable as he recovered.
While this was a minor
problem in fights with pure
thrusting weapons such as foils
or smallswords, it would likely
be fatal in a fight with
longswords, given the powerful
cuts they could deliver.
The techniques shown also
include pommel strikes,
disarms and grappling moves.
The ‘sport’ version of
longsword fighting taught by
Meyer prohibited thrusts and
pommel strikes for obvious
safety reasons, though fighters
still ‘scored’ by inflicting
bloody cuts on opponents’
scalps. His repertoire was not
limited to these sporting
moves, however, and even
those would serve as a basis
for teaching serious combat.

Fighting in armour
Fighting on foot in armour (‘harness’, in medieval terminology; the phrase
‘dying in harness’ originally had nothing to do with horses) was a vital
skill for medieval knights, whether on the battlefield or at tournaments.
Not everyone in full plate was necessarily a ‘knight’, however; by the
1350s non-nobles could serve as fully armoured men-at-arms if they could
afford the equipment. The improvements in armour by the mid14th century, with mail increasingly supplemented by ‘coats of plates’
over the torso and plate limb defences, helped drive development of the
longsword, because better-protected knights no longer needed shields, but
did require weapons able to inflict more damage on equally well-protected
opponents. This could obviously be achieved by using two-handed
weapons such as halberds or pollaxes, but these required both hands
under all circumstances, and could not be carried sheathed or used
mounted, and the longsword partly filled this gap.
Continued improvements in armour saw use of more and larger plates,
until even powerful cuts from longswords were no longer effective and
specialized techniques developed to attack the gaps in armour. Full plate
harness weighs 40–60lb, lighter than the loads carried by modern
infantrymen. A fit man in well-fitted armour is entirely capable of
mounting a horse or getting up if knocked down, Victorian myths based
on specialized jousting armour notwithstanding. The author can attest
that weight is less problematic than heat build-up during prolonged
exertion, and the difficulty of sucking in enough air through a closed
visor. While field helmets restricted vision less than specialized jousting
styles, they still limited the field of view, and wearers needed to scan left
and right by moving their heads to remain aware of approaching threats.
Some men opted to fight with visors open for better vision and easier
breathing at the cost of leaving their faces unprotected. Counterintuitively, in most friendly deeds of arms the combatants fought with
visors closed for maximum protection, while in lethal combats many
fought with visors open for better vision.
Knights would clearly only have bothered with harness because it
offered sufficient protection to outweigh these disadvantages. The large
plates spread impacts sufficiently that cuts were largely ineffective, while
thrusts would skid off the curved surfaces if they hit at an angle, and were

The difficulty of hurting a man in
full harness meant that many of
the plays taught for armoured
fighting were primarily intended
to put him on the ground where
he could be dealt with at leisure,
rather than injure him directly.
Both fighters start off in a halfsword position. Dark thrusts at
light’s face. Light beats the tip of
dark’s sword aside, steps in and
hooks his hilt around dark’s neck.
He then pulls hard backwards and
towards himself, pulling dark
backwards over his thigh and onto
the ground. (Author’s Collection)

33

Light has reversed his sword to
deliver a Mordschlag (‘Murder
stroke’) with the heavy sharpened
cross of his sword. Dark steps
forward to block light’s sword
with a strong parry, probably
intending to follow up by pushing
his left hand forward to displace
light’s sword and deliver a thrust
to his face. Before he can do so,
however, light pulls back on his
sword, pulling dark’s hands down
and forward with it, then reverses
direction abruptly to slam his
pommel into dark’s chin. (Author’s
Collection)

unlikely to punch through the plates even if they hit square. Fiore
comments that while a single missed parry can mean death for a man
wearing only a padded jacket, a man in good armour can receive multiple
hits and still win the fight (Leoni & Mele 2017: 179).
Because of this, and because some unarmoured moves were awkward
to perform in full harness, the fightbooks advocated special techniques.
Fiore refers to it simply as ‘sword in armour’ while the German sources
call it Halbes Schwert (‘Half-sword’), Gewappeter Hant (‘Armoured
hand’) or Kurzes Schwert (‘Shortened Sword’), holding the longsword
with right hand on the hilt, and the left gripping halfway up the blade.
The longsword was then used like a short spear, with the left hand
guiding the point against vulnerable points in the armour, such as the eye

Agincourt, 25 October 1415 (opposite)
Accounts of the battle of Agincourt often focus on the effectiveness of the longbow, but
despite the casualties and disruption inflicted by English archery, French men-at-arms reached
the English line, and the battle was resolved by brutal hand-to-hand fighting between knights.
King Henry V of England (r. 1413–22) chose a battlefield with woods protecting his flanks to
prevent the French using their superior numbers to best effect, set stakes to protect his
archers from the planned French cavalry attack and forced the French to advance towards his
dismounted men-at-arms across sloping, muddy ground. Henry fought in the front line to boost
morale, making him an obvious target for glory-seeking Frenchmen. Chroniclers describe 18
Burgundian knights taking an oath to kill or capture the English king or die in the attempt –
which they did – and Henry standing across the body of his wounded brother Humphrey, Duke
of Gloucester, defending him until he could be pulled to safety.
Many of the French knights used shortened lances, and here Henry uses a half-sword parry
to knock his attacker’s thrust offline before delivering a counter-thrust to the face. Meanwhile,
the next Englishman has blocked a swing and stepped forward to deliver a pommel strike to
his opponent’s face. Both Englishmen fight with visors raised for visibility and ease of
breathing. Their French opponents needed their visors closed against the English arrowstorm,
but now found themselves disadvantaged in close combat. Fighting with visor raised almost
cost Henry his life at Shrewsbury in 1403, when an arrow in his face was only extracted with
considerable difficulty and danger.

34

35

ABOVE LEFT
Vadi’s specialized swords for use
in armour, with flared spearpoint
tips and spiked pommel and
cross. It seems likely that the
fighters wearing crowns rather
than helmets was an artistic
conceit. (Philippo di Vadi/
Wikimedia/Public Domain)
ABOVE RIGHT
Plate harness provided excellent
protection, and many armoured
fighters focused on knocking their
opponents down to finish them
with a dagger thrust into
unprotected flesh. In this
illustration from Peter Falkner’s
1495 manuscript, however, the
victor has opted simply to use the
sword he was already holding.
(Peter Falkner/Wikimedia/Public
Domain)

36

slots of the visor, the exposed face, palms of the hands, backs of the knees
or the armpit. The latter might be protected by besagews, disc-shaped
pieces of armour hung in front of the armpit to protect the gap exposed
when the arm was raised, or by mail ‘voiders’ sewn to the padded arming
doublet under the breastplate.
Other techniques included the Mortschlag (‘Murder stroke’), where
the attacker reversed his sword to hold it at mid-point and tip, using the
heavy pommel and cross to deliver stunning blows to the head, jam
harness joints by bending the metal or hook his opponent’s knee from
under him. Indeed, medieval harness protected its wearers so well that
many armoured fighting techniques with longswords were intended not
to injure the opponent directly but to trip, knock or throw him to the
ground, where he could be held down and dispatched with a rondel
dagger. This was a strong sharply pointed spike designed to slide easily
through mail, into an eye slot or be hammered between the lames of a
harness joint by pounding the flat pommel with the free hand. The Von
Danzig Fechtbuch tells us that single combat in full harness often ended
up in grappling and dagger fighting. A man in full armour was simply too
hard to hurt unless you could knock him down, pin him and slide a dagger
through the gaps in his harness (Tobler 2010: 158). Another master
advised that having wrestled an armoured opponent to the ground and
pinned him, you should grasp his dagger rather than yours, stabbing
under the fauld of his armour into the exposed groin and inner thighs, and
through the visor. If no gaps in the opponent’s armour were obvious, he
recommended cutting any visible armour straps and pulling up the plates
to stab into the flesh beneath.

Mounted combat
The word ‘chivalry’ comes from the French for horse, and mounted
combat was theoretically the epitome of knightly skill, though it became
less decisive on the battlefield after the ‘infantry revolution’ of the mid14th century. The joust became a pure sporting discipline with specialized
equipment, and little connection with practical battlefield combat. The
mounted ‘free tourney’ where teams fought each other using clubs retained
more resemblance to real combat.
The primary mounted weapon was the lance, which concentrated the
weight and momentum of charging man and horse into an impact capable
of killing or injuring even the best-armoured opponent. The usefulness of
the lance decreased sharply after the initial charge, however, as it was
often broken or embedded in the first target, and depended heavily on the
momentum of the charge. Mounted knights invariably carried swords as
secondary weapons for use in the mêlée, and often hung a second, shorter
weapon such as an axe or mace from their saddle-bow.
When drawing the sword while mounted, it was important that the
right hand reached over the bridle arm to grip the sword hilt; reaching
under risked slicing the inside of one’s own left arm or the reins as the
blade cleared the scabbard.
Even one-handed, the longsword’s greater length gave an advantage
when striking men on foot compared with a shorter sword, but it was
important that the rider did not lean out of the saddle while striking – the
shift of weight automatically made the horse move sideways, away from
the pressure, causing the stroke to miss.
Alternatively, longswords could be used as short lances at canter, the
point extended forward and driven home by the horse’s momentum,
though there was a clear risk of the sword over-penetrating the victim and
being wrenched from your grip as you passed. Some sources suggest
bracing the sword against the rigid breastplate when doing this, while
Monte recommended resting the pommel on the saddle-bow, to transfer
the force of impact to horse rather than rider.

Mounted fighting depended as
much on horsemanship as
swordsmanship, and as this plate
from Hans Talhoffer’s 1467
manuscript shows, for much of
the time riders needed one hand
to control the horse and thus used
swords one-handed. (Hans
Talhoffer/Wikimedia/Public
Domain)

37

The lance clearly had the
advantage of length against the
sword, but if the swordsman
could parry the point, he was
safe. The inverted parry here was
weaker than a more conventional
parry, but allowed the swordsman
to whip his weapon around in a
strong cut at the lancer’s head
after parrying. This illustration
comes from the German Goliath
Fechtbuch, c.1510. (Ms. Germ.
Qu. 2020 (from the former
Prussian State Library in Berlin,
preserved at present in the
Jagiellonian Library in Kraków)
f. 192r)

The distinction between armoured and unarmoured fighting does not
affect mounted sword techniques. Crossbowmen and archers might be
mounted primarily for mobility, and fight mounted only in an emergency,
as would anyone attacked while travelling; the plates illustrating mounted
combat in fightbooks show both unarmoured men and others in
full harness.
Mounted fighting was obviously influenced by the rider being astride
a horse, effectively eliminating footwork, and the need to keep the left
hand on the reins to guide and control the horse. This largely restricted
sword work to single-handed moves; some two-handed techniques are
demonstrated mounted, though this required dropping the reins. Overall,
the rider’s position in the saddle meant he could attack or defend well to

38

Most mounted longsword
techniques used the sword in one
hand, but some sources (in this
case the Goliath Fechtbuch,
c.1510) show swords being used
two-handed. This would obviously
require dropping the reins, but it
is worth noting that the horses
are depicted as trotting, rather
than the faster canter shown in
the previous illustration.
(Ms. Germ. Qu. 2020 (from the
former Prussian State Library in
Berlin, preserved at present in the
Jagiellonian Library in Kraków)
f. 189r)

Light has a lance (1), which both
concentrates the power of his
charging horse into the tip and
outreaches other weapons.
Against it, dark deflects the lance
tip offline (2), keeping the flat of
his sword against the shaft to
control his opponent’s weapon as
they close, then delivers a cut to
light’s face as he passes (3).
Typically, this would be followed
by a second cut delivered
backhand to the rear of the
target’s head, in case the first
was insufficient. (Author’s
Collection)

his right, but only with difficulty to his left and rear. In the open, this gave
the superior horseman significant advantages if he could position himself
to his opponent’s left and rear, while his victim would attempt to disengage
or turn his horse into a less unfavourable position – not easily done, with
both horses moving fast.
A skilled horseman controlled his horse partly with his weight and legs
as well as the reins, and could use this to sidestep attacks, while fit and
well-trained horses, carrying more of their weight on the hindquarters,
were more responsive and able to turn faster. King Duarte I of Portugal’s
equestrian textbook, Livro Da Ensinança De Bem Cavalgar Toda Sela
(‘Book of Teachings of Riding Well on Every Saddle’, published as ‘The
Royal Book of Horsemanship, Jousting and Knightly Combat’) written in
the 1430s, advocates using the speed of the horse to add power to sword
cuts, combining that energy with the strength of the rider’s body, shoulder
and arm. Severe wounds could be inflicted by combining the motion of
the horse with the strength of the body and the arm to deliver a powerful
stroke that was far stronger than one delivered by using the arm only
(Dom Duarte 2005: 177). Duarte strongly advised maintaining the
advantage of the horse’s momentum in a fight, and avoiding sharp turns
which put too much stress on its legs. Instead, he advocated delivering a
strong sword cut on the way past the opponent, and slowing to turn for
another attack once well beyond and out of immediate danger.
Interestingly, fightbooks covering mounted combat also include sword
moves at relatively slow paces (walk or trot) and grappling moves to pull

39

Both fighters are charging (1),
using the momentum of their
horses to add power to their
sword cuts. Dark blocks light’s
blow from slightly below (2), and
rolls his wrist to let light’s sword
run up his own blade, then drives
his pommel into light’s face (3).
(Author’s Collection)

opponents from the saddle. This discrepancy may reflect Duarte’s focus
on tournaments, or different audiences, with fightbooks assuming their
readers already know the ‘straightforward’ techniques taught by Duarte,
just as they assume they have already mastered horsemanship. The
fightbooks therefore showcase their author’s ability to teach ‘advanced
skills and dirty tricks’ for use in close mêlée.
It was extremely poor form to attack an opponent’s horses in a joust,
leading to disqualification, while a defeated opponent’s horses formed a
valuable part of the prize in tournaments. The kill-or-be-killed logic of the
fightbook authors showed no such restriction, and regarded killing or
injuring an opponent’s horse as a valid tactic. It was difficult to parry
attacks to the horse’s head and neck, where sword cuts were most likely
to fall, so armourers developed plate shaffrons and articulated crinets to
protect these areas, alongside plate bards to protect the horse’s body from
lance strikes and projectiles. Equally, one could cut an opponent’s reins so
he could no longer control his horse, leading to the appearance of
reinforcing plates and chain reins.

THE LONGSWORD IN CONTEXT
40

The longsword’s greatest strength was its versatility, and it was used in a
wide range of circumstances – wars, tournaments, judicial duels and
street brawls.

Swords were generally secondary
weapons on the battlefield, and
had to face a variety of different
weapons, as shown in this French
copy of the classical author
Valerius Maximus, c.1473.
(© British Library Board/
Bridgeman Images, Harley 4375,
f.123)

The longsword in war
The changes driving development of the longsword during the 14th century
also changed warfare itself, in what some have termed an ‘infantry
revolution’. Cavalry remained vital for scouting and shock action, but
units of trained, disciplined infantry – from English longbowmen to Swiss
pikemen – were the decisive force on the battlefield. Even knights in full
harness generally fought on foot.
Nobody with sense took a sword onto the battlefield as their main
weapon, as they would be at a serious disadvantage against opponents
equipped with long polearms. A swordsman could defeat a single

Bosworth Field, 22 August 1485 (overleaf)
Richard of York served his brother King Edward IV of England (r. 1461–70, 1471–83) loyally for
decades, and after Edward died unexpectedly in 1483, he appeared a natural choice as Lord
Protector until his brother’s sons came of age. After seizing the throne for himself, Richard
quickly found himself facing an unsuccessful rebellion led by the Duke of Buckingham – a former
ally – then foreign invasion. Henry Tudor’s disparate army of die-hard Edward IV loyalists,
Lancastrian exiles, Woodville supporters and French mercenaries was united only by opposition
to Richard, but gained local support as it advanced from its landing point in Pembrokeshire.
Richard assembled a sizeable force, but when the armies met at Bosworth Field, much of it
proved reluctant to actually fight for him. Whatever his other faults, Richard was no coward, and
led his personal retinue in a charge directly at Henry Tudor’s standard to break the rebel army
and encourage his own forces to join in on the winning side. Ultimately, Richard came close to
succeeding but was cut down and killed, fighting bravely to the last.
This plate shows one of Richard’s retinue breaking through the thin line of archers defending
Henry. The mounted knight uses the height and momentum of his horse to deliver maximum
force in his cut. The archer has discarded his bow in favour of his longsword and the buckler
carried looped over its hilt, and has two options. His safest course, given the knight is primarily
interested in getting past the archers rather than fighting them, would be simply to use both
sword and buckler together in a strong parry to protect his head (see inset). Alternatively, he
could parry the cut with sword alone, and half-turn to wrap his buckler arm around the knight’s
sword arm and use the knight’s own momentum to drag him from the saddle – a much riskier
option, but one that might net him a valuable prisoner, with consequent rewards.

41

42

43

A scene from a Swiss chronicle,
c.1483, shows longswords carried
as sidearms by both armoured
men-at-arms and unarmoured
handgunners. (Burgerbibliothek
Bern, Mss.h.h.I.1, p.32 – Diebold
Schilling, Amtliche Berner
Chronik, vol. 1)

spearman, because the swordsman had the advantage if he could get past
the point of the polearm, and fightbooks show techniques for this.
Fighting units of spearmen was a very different proposition, however, as
they could pack together more closely than swordsmen, and anyone
getting past one man’s point would likely be spitted by his neighbour.
Equally, however, nobody with sense would go onto the battlefield
without a sword as a secondary weapon, because it was the most effective
weapon that could be carried on the belt. The spearman needed it in case
the shaft of his polearm broke, the archer needed a weapon for when the

44

Three men fighting with
longswords in a detail from a
French manuscript miniature
created c.1473. The man on the
right has an unusual scabbard
arrangement apparently fixed by
chains to his mail shirt. Few of
the other figures have visible
scabbards, which may be artistic
convention, or may mean that
empty scabbards were discarded
when swords were drawn.
(© British Library Board/
Bridgeman Images, Harley 4374,
f.161)

enemy made contact with his line, and the armoured man-at-arms needed
a weapon that could be used both mounted and on foot, as his primary
weapons of lance and pollaxe were tied to one mode of combat or
the other.
The Burgundian Abbeville ordinance of 1471 prescribes longswords
and daggers as secondary weapons for both mounted archers and light
cavalrymen, while cavalry swords remained viable well into the
19th century. The longsword was not the only choice in this role – the
English seemed particularly fond of sword and buckler, while the Swiss
often preferred short swords for use in the close press. It was the most
versatile, however, as even unarmoured men could shorten their frontage
by switching to half-sword techniques and using their weapons as
short polearms.
Battle would see a mixture of armoured and unarmoured fighting
techniques. Men-at-arms wore full harness, and by the Late Middle Ages
even light troops such as archers would have worn helmets, breastplate or
brigandine and possibly some limb defences, giving them some protection
while retaining mobility.
To deliver good cuts, longswords needed space, which would probably
only be available during the rout or pursuit after battle, when men were
less tightly packed, though thrusts or half-sword techniques could be used
at any point. Men also needed to train against a variety of different
weapons, rather than just against other swordsmen.
Pitched battles were not especially common in medieval warfare. The
weaker side often avoided battle, which usually occurred only if both
sides thought they had a good chance of victory, or if one side was trapped
against something preventing retreat, such as another enemy force or a
river. The mounted raids known as chevauchées, skirmishes in rough
country and sieges were as common as open battle, and here the
longswords’ versatility and ability to be used one-handed came to the fore
– it is very difficult to carry a pollaxe on a scaling ladder, for example.
Equally, swords worked under any circumstances, unlike bows or early
gunpowder weapons which were useless in heavy rain and little more
effective in darkness or fog which prevented the target being seen.

The longsword in tournaments and deeds of arms
Tournaments began as little more than pre-arranged limited wars, fought
over an agreed area with the weapons and armour used in real warfare.
Not surprisingly, tournaments were opposed by the Church, and even
kings were cautious of permitting them, as they allowed discontented
vassals to gather in numbers, fully armed. By the 14th century, however,
they had acquired stricter rules, and used special weapons – the English
Statute of Arms of 1292 stated that tournament weapons were to be
blunted or rebated, swords were not to be pointed and lances were to have
coronels rather than points.
Foot-combat events were separated from the mounted joust, and
usually fought with the pollaxe (often simply called the ‘axe’) and the
longsword. Sometimes even the number of blows with each weapon was

45

Two figures from the German
chivalry romance Rosengarten zu
Worms (‘The Rosegarden at
Worms’). One figure has both
hands on his sword hilt, while the
other may be intended as a halfsword grip. The elaborate helmet
crests worn by both figures serve
to identify them within the story,
and may not reflect real practice.
(Heidelberg University Library,
Cod. Pal.germ.359, fol.46v)

46

specified, and with competitors wearing full harness, deaths and injuries
were possible but unlikely. Though tournaments were still seen as good
training for war, they became steadily less realistic, with jousting in
particular gaining specialized armour which would be too heavy to wear
in the field. This metamorphosis into a sport was why the French knight
and author Geoffroi de Charny’s 1350 Livre de chevalerie (‘Book of
Chivalry’) valued deeds in tournament above those in jousts, and deeds in
war above those in tournaments.
The process continued through time, and just as the joust acquired the
tilt rail for added safety, foot combats also acquired ‘barras’ or barriers
which physically separated the combatants, limited targets and prevented
use of close techniques. First appearing in the late 15th century but
becoming common in the 16th, they allowed knights – now a military
aristocracy only in theory – to participate in chivalric spectacles without
risk. Indeed, some became so circumscribed that participants no longer
wore leg armour, as the strict rules prevented competitors crossing the
barrier or striking each other below the waist. Though it survived into the
late 16th century, as the last use of the longsword in armour, it had long
lost any connection to actual combat.
Feats of Arms were a subset of tournaments, where individual
knights or small groups challenged specific individuals or all comers in
pre-arranged, ‘friendly’ combats. The combatants fought in full armour,
with terms arranged in advance. Sometimes, the challenger chose one of
a matched pair of weapons, and his opponent received the other.

Typically, such deeds involved a set number of courses (typically three,
but sometimes five or seven) with lances on horseback, then with swords
on horseback and finally on foot with spear or pollaxe, sword and
dagger. Alternatively, the parties might agree to fight until one conceded
or was forced to the ground, or each fighter might strike a set number
of blows. For example, Sir John Cornwall travelled to Lille in 1409 to
fight a three-day challenge against Jehan Werchin, Seneschal of Hainault,
with lance, sword, dagger and pollaxe. He gained great honour and
prestige from this, and was presented with a gold collar set with jewels
by the Duke of Burgundy.
These contests were not necessarily bloodless. Combatants might
choose to fight à outrance (perhaps best expressed as ‘to the extreme’) or
à plaisance (‘for pleasure’). This is often assumed to be the distinction
between combats with the normal sharp weapons of war and combats
with blunted tournament weapons, but the reality was more complex. In
fact, combats à plaisance could be fought with blunt or sharp weapons,
but were intended to demonstrate the bravery and skill of the participants
without causing serious injury. Combats à outrance raised the stakes and
were expected to be fought until one party was dead, incapacitated or
surrendered. The ‘pay-off’ for this greater risk was that combats à
outrance were seen as showing much greater bravery, and thus gave the
victor greater fame and glory.
Those offering to fight à outrance ensured their challenges were well
publicized, or wore conspicuous tokens indicating their willingness to
fight this way, publicly demonstrating bravery and confidence in their
own prowess. They thus gained prestige even if the challenge did not

The so-called ‘Codex Wallerstein’
(Cod.I.6.4º.2) was assembled by
Paulus Hector Mair, a wealthy
patrician and treasurer of the city
of Augsburg, in 1556 from at least
three earlier manuscripts; this
section may date to the 1420s.
Note the discarded spears and
shields, mail voiders protecting
gaps in the plate harness, and
rondel daggers. (Codex
Wallerstein/Wikimedia/Public
Domain)

47

One of the ‘Gladiatoria’ series of
manuscripts, depicting
unscrewing the pommel of the
sword to throw it at an opponent.
(Wiktenauer/Wikimedia/Public
Domain)

48

result in actual combat, which was a common outcome. Alternatively,
combats à outrance might be fought during actual wars, allowing knights
to fight each other in a fair and chivalric way. Perhaps the best example
is the ‘combat of the thirty’ in 1351. This saw 30 Breton knights serving
King Jean II of France (r. 1350–64) fight 30 Englishmen and their allies
during the Hundred Years’ War (1337–1453). The fight took place
midway between the two sides, with strict rules which prohibited outside
interference and even allowed refreshment breaks. The fighting itself was
entirely in earnest, however, with more than a dozen combatants killed
and many of the rest wounded.
Deeds of arms superficially resembled judicial duels, but were
actually worlds apart – the combatants might not even know in advance
who they would fight, there was no requirement to fight to the bitter
end, and an ideal resolution would see both participants gain fame,
honour and potentially monetary reward. Occasionally, combats were
offered which bridged the divide between the two, as when King
Henry V of England (r. 1413–22) suggested before the 1415 Agincourt
campaign that he and the Dauphin of France preserve the lives of their
Christian subjects by meeting in single combat, with the survivor
recognized as true heir to the French throne. This has often been
regarded as mere chivalric propaganda, but one suspects Henry would
have been entirely willing to fight had the challenge been accepted; he
was in his prime and an experienced fighter, whereas the Dauphin was
notoriously overweight and indolent.

The longsword and the judicial duel
The medieval judicial duel had little in common with the post-medieval
‘honour duel’ fought with rapiers or smallswords. The latter was an illegal
combat fought because individuals felt their personal honour was slighted.
By contrast, its medieval equivalent was actually part of the legal process,
fought over a serious crime.
The judicial duel originated in the early medieval ‘Trial by Combat’,
which could originally be used in any type of legal case, including property
disputes. It followed the same logic as the other legal ordeals such as trial
by fire or water, essentially relying on divine intervention to show which
side of the dispute was right. The other ordeals fell into disuse with the
re-introduction of Roman-style law and clerical opposition after the
Fourth Lateran Council in 1215,