In 1599, during the period when the Portuguese crown was united to the crowns of Castile and Aragon, a Portuguese master-at-arms called Domingo Luis Godinho wrote a manuscript in Spanish entitled Arte de Esgrima (The Art of Fencing). Although Godinho's life is largely a mystery and his text was never published, today his manuscript of utmost relevance in the study of Renaissance Iberian fencing, since it is the only complete treatise discovered so far describing the "Common" or "Vulgar" style of Iberian fencing, first documented in the 15th century, but by Godinho's day, displaced by the new system of La Verdadera Destreza . The work includes instructions for the single sword, a long-bladed, cut & thrust weapon taught alone and with the use of the shield, buckler, dagger, and cape, as well as paired with a second sword. Godinho's instructions also includes the longest known text on the use of the montante , or two-handed sword, a devastating weapon that was used by soldiers and body-guards, in duels and battlefields, in crowded streets and aboard galleys. Translator Tim Rivera provides a detailed introduction that explains Godinho's relationship to earlier masters of the "Common School" of swordsmanship, and a short primer on the various weapons, guards, parries, footwork and terminology of the tradition.
I started picking my way through this work a couple of pages at a time, as the archaic language and the author's assumptions about the reader were very difficult to parse. Of course, this is a manual on a certain style of swordsmanship, not a novel or essay or short story, but a textbook. The glossary in the back was somewhat helpful, but as often as not it is self-referential, again, assuming much about the reader's background knowledge and experience.
I've been fencing, off and on, since college - foil, epee, rapier & dagger, and, most recently, messer. I'm not great, but I had good coaching (my first coach was an olympic bronze medalist), and I would feel pretty comfortable if things came down to a real duel with just about anyone (sharp blades make one sharper, as they say). But I admit that learning fencing theory was never my strong suit. So, this one was a bit of a struggle.
At a certain point, after nipping and poking at the work, though, I decided I needed to just plunge in, read, practice some of the techniques, as I understood them. That did seem to accelerate some of my learning, much the same as learning German or Latin or Swahili - immersion is the key.
Part one of the book, on "Sword Alone," was definitely the most tedious, but also the most foundational, as one would expect. A brief introductory chapter by Tim Rivera was definitely helpful, but if I could have any wish about this book, it would be that it was thoroughly annotated and illustrated by Rivera. Swordsmanship is something done in space, and trying to translate the written word into spatial movement in real-time is nearly impossible without some kind of visual representation. This was my biggest complaint about the manual - and it is a HUGE complaint.
Part Two: Sword and Shield, can be summarized: protect your hand, slash at your opponent's legs or stab him in the belly, and whatever you do, do it really, really quickly, like a snapping turtle.
There are other sections on a variety of topics, not all of which I will mention. Some standouts, though, were:
Part Four: Two Swords. Need to know how to clear a street? It's in there. Surrounded by enemies who are threatening your treasure or your lady? There are solutions to that.
I should note here, also, that in both the section on Two Swords and in Part Six: The Two-Handed Sword, there are very clear instructions on how a bodyguard should defend an individual in his charge, and there are a lot of details beyond just the proper footwork and cutting or thrusting techniques that I just would not have thought of. Things like: Where is it best to place your back (or not) at a four-way intersection? What if your back is literally against the wall? How do you defend yourself and another in those circumstances? And so forth.
I always wondered why those beefcake sword and sorcery covers and frontispieces (see: almost every issue of Savage Sword of Conan) had the hero standing and a woman kneeling or sitting at his feet. Turns out this was how people were trained to defend a woman from a crowd (royal bodyguards and such). When surrounded, you have to swing in wide arcs. If she's standing behind or beside you . . . well, it's bad optics, at the very least, to accidentally decapitate the person you're trying to protect.
Part Eight: Self-Defense and Tricks, might just as well have been titled "dirty tricks". Literally dirty, like keeping a pocket full of fine sand to cast into the eyes of an opponent who "has greater advantage" or to use against multiple opponents who justifiably want to kill you because you are a scumbucket. Godinho essentially says the quiet part out loud about how you got yourself into this stupid mess, here's how you get out, but in a more refined way. Screw honor, you've got to defend yourself! By far the most entertaining section of the book!
Will I stop reading fencing/swordsmanship manuals? Heck no. I benefited greatly from reading Cappo Ferro's Gran Simulacro multiple times in the past, and I am very much looking forward to tackling Hans Lecküchner's work on Messer fighting. I am unlikely to return to Godhino's principal work on Sword Alone (though I've taken a couple of small lessons from it), but the sections on Two Swords and Two-Handed Sword are gold - if only they were clearly illustrated.
While well translated and a vital piece in understanding what was likely the common swordplay of the time, Godinho's delivery of his theory is tedious and poorly organized (a reasonable issue given the circumstances of production, but not an excellent starting point for students of Iberian fencing).