![]() ![]() The majority of training was dedicated to fencing with the longsword, or the sword and buckler (a style of combat involving holding a sword in one hand, and a small shield in the other). In 1434, he was accused of murdering a man and admitted abducting him in the Austrian city of Salzburg.įight masters worked with a grisly assortment of deadly weapons. ![]() Hans Talhoffer, a German fencing master with curly hair, impressive sideburns and a penchant for tight body suits, had a particularly chequered past. Little is known about these rare talents, but the scraps of information that have survived are full of intrigue. ![]() The most highly renowned were almost as famous as the knights they trained, and many of the techniques they used were ancient, dating back hundreds of years in a continuous tradition. The ultimate experts in medieval sword fighting were the "fight masters" – elite athletes who trained their disciples in the subtle arts of close combat. How has this happened? And will we ever work out how it was really done? "It does suck the enjoyment out of watching TV sometimes," says Jamie MacIver, a longsword instructor and the former chairman of the London Historical Fencing Club, "because you look at it and you think, 'Oh my God, wait, what are you doing?'." In fact, the elaborate back-and-forth swordplay in every film, series, or play of the period has been largely made-up. Despite years of studying them, to this day the techniques involved remain mysterious. But centuries later, crucial information needed to understand its secrets has been lost. Sword fighting was not a matter of random slashing or prodding – it was a sophisticated martial art to rival kung fu or sumo wrestling. It was normal for ambitious warriors to train for up to a decade, often from childhood, practicing nimble footwork, how to deflect attacks, and various gruesome ways to kill opponents as quickly as possible. Of course, becoming a knight required more than just shining armour and a noble steed – they needed technique. They were widely celebrated as the romantic heroes of their age – livening up legends, poems and paintings with their clashing blades and chivalrous deeds. The best among them were rewarded for their skill with castles, lands, and courtly influence. Knights were the biggest celebrities of the medieval era. It was written as a moral tale, but there's another perspective: Essex had abandoned his sword-fighting knowledge, and lost everything. Miraculously, Essex survived, and lived the rest of his life in penitence among them – where many years later, he met the unremarkable chronicler. The king ordered the local monks to carry Essex's body away and bury it. Amid much clattering of blades on armour, he fell. He flew at his opponent blindly, abandoning everything he had ever learned. At first, Essex defended himself with skill, but after a series of visions of those he had wronged, he was filled with shame and fear. With crowds watching from the muddy banks of the River Thames, the accusing relative – also a knight – attacked with "hard and frequent blows". Six years later, in Reading, one of his own relatives publicly declared that this had been treason and challenged him to a duel. Essex mistakenly announced that the king was dead, almost causing the army to give up and flee. Then a bizarre incident at a battle in Wales threatened everything. He also wasn't very nice – he stole money, brought shame on women, and had an innocent man tortured. He was a knight famous for his skill with a sword, and trusted by Henry II of England. In 1157, Henry of Essex had been noble – by birth, rather than deed – wealthy, and powerful. In hushed tones, this man explained how he had become a monk by accident. Among them was one who immediately stuck out as unusual – a monk who, though now dressed in the same hooded robes as the rest, had once led a very different life. Within the imposing building's rough flint walls, in the shadows of a virtually unlit room, he met the resident brothers. The anonymous monk's interest had begun at another abbey, in Reading, where he had been visiting. He was chronicling the scandalous life of a man he had met some years earlier – the story, he hoped, was not too improper. One day, in the mid-12th Century, an unremarkable monk sat down in St Edmund's Abbey, Suffolk, and set pen to parchment.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
AuthorWrite something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview. ArchivesCategories |