Originally published on the Bartitsu.org site on Thursday, 2nd December 2010
I resolved on putting myself into the hands of some professor of self-defence, who whilst he knocked me about for his amusement, and worked me into a state of complete exhaustion for my improvement in condition as for his own benefit in pocket, should teach me that noble science …
– The works of G.J. Whyte-Melville, Volume 7 (1899)
Although the term “professor of self defence” sounds odd to modern ears, attuned to associate professorship with formal academia, professors of that subject (and of boxing, physical culture, etc.) were common at the time E.W. Barton-Wright opened his Bartitsu School of Arms in London. In fact, Barton-Wright himself was referred to as a professor of self defence by reporter Mary Nugent, in her December 1901 article “Barton-Wright and his Japanese Wrestlers”.
Typically, a professor of self defence circa 1900 was a combat athlete in his post-competitive years, when and if they turned to teaching their skills. In some cases, such as that of Bartitsu School instructor Sadakazu Uyenishi, the term was used to describe still-active competitors who also worked as self defence teachers. Never, apparently, a “rank” to be awarded, antagonistic professorship was simply an honourific title, equivalent to the Japanese sensei or the modern English coach.
… the services of Professor Sandow, Captain Alfred Hutton, Mr Eustace Miles, Mr Fry, and a professional boxer (could) be commandeered, with some capable doctor to assist them. Perhaps, also, some professor of jiu jitsu would be useful, and these distinguished persons could then safely be left to devise a new and improved ‘battel.’
– Chambers’s Journal (1906)
Professorship has also been retained, or has evolved into a specific rank in some contemporary martial arts, including Gracie jiu-jitsu, capoeira and kenpo as well as various Filipino martial arts. Curiously, one of the few similar instances of the original implications having survived in modern English is that of traditional Punch and Judy puppeteers, who are customarily called professors.
Although the implications of the word “professor” became increasingly specialised in 20th and 21st century English, and are commonly understood to refer to formal academic rank, the Merriam Webster dictionary offers several definitions:
1: one that professes, avows, or declares 2: a) a faculty member of the highest academic rank at an institution of higher education b) a teacher at a university, college, or sometimes secondary school c) one that teaches or professes special knowledge of an art, sport, or occupation requiring skill
That said, in modern English-speaking countries “martial arts professorship” runs a very strong risk of being misunderstood as unethical appropriation of a formal academic title, outside of LARP events such as steampunk conventions.
Originally published on the Bartitsu.org site on Thursday, 28th March 2019
Following the Bartitsu Club’s “Anglo-Japanese Tournament” tour of early-mid 1902, the Club dissolved and the former instructors all went their own ways. The subject of this September 14, 1902 London Times article, Pierre Vigny, established his own school in London, offering a Bartitsuesque curriculum of antagonistics, albeit with a much greater emphasis on fencing than on Japanese unarmed combat.
Noting that the use of heavily-buckled belts as street-fighting weapons was “in the news” during this period and that the stick vs. belt defence alluded to in this article is distinct from the only other known representation of a Vigny-style defence against a belt attack, which is shown here for reference:
With the present reign of hooligan terrorism, the noble art of self-defence has need to adopt other and more modern methods. Practices that stood well against smart arm and head work are of little value against the belt and the knife. Yet it is a commonly accepted fact that a walking stick or an umbrella affords the innocent pedestrian all the defence be needs against the most unexpected kind of attacks, the weapon be used scientifically.
Few people are aware of the tremendous possibilities of defence or attack that lie in these commonplace companions. A man with a walking-stick and an average amount of dexterity may ward off a blow with a belt or a knife, and at once land his opponent in a position of comparative helplessness. He may even stand his ground against the attacks of half-a-dozen of the worst type of London hooligans, and may “elbow” his way out of a crowd without much difficulty.
This up-to-date art has an able champion and exponent in Professor Pierre Vigny, director and manager of a new school of self-defence. When the school was opened the other night at 13, Berners Street, Oxford Street. many well-known sportsmen were present to witness the professor’s exhibition. Among various items of the programme the new art of handling a walking-stick or an umbrella, straight or hooked handle, as a means of defence or attack, attracted special attention by its originality and its ingenious tricks and counters.
In the case of a blow from a belt, a proper attitude of defence with a walking-stick would result in the belt twisting round the stick and being swept from the grasp of its user before he was aware of the harmlessness of his stroke. Then, before be could thoroughly realise that he had lost his grip of the belt, the man with the walking-stick would have turned that weapon of defence dexterously so as to deal has opponent a blow with the other end of it, either on the chest or on the head: or, in the case of a hooked stick, might have pulled him to the ground by the neck, or tripped him by the leg.
If Professor Vigny’s new science spreads and becomes popular, it will fare badly with the hooligan, who will soon find his occupation gone entirely, or too dangerous to follow.
Ladies, of course, may also find the new science of value to them. Miss Sanderson, a pupil of Professor Vigny, delighted the audience the other night by her clever and careful attacks, and proved that the art is simple enough to find able exponents and pupils in the fair sex. It seems probable, too, that the attention of the younger generation may be turned to the new science, in which case school children would find in it not merely training for future occasions of defence that may arise, but a pleasant and health-giving exercise.
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Dr. Paxton (right) squares off against fellow academic, stand-up comic and jiujitsu purple belt Iszi Lawrence.
Dr. Paxton also has a longstanding interest in suffrajitsu and has previously offered several entertaining public lectures on that subject, including this 2014 presentation at the Camden Comedy Club:
Originally published on the Bartitsu.org site on Thursday, 21st March 2019
Self-defence expert Ellen Snortland’s 2016 documentary Beauty Bites Beast includes a short feature on Edith Garrud’s role in training the “Amazons” of the women’s suffrage movement.
The suffrajitsu excerpt, including images from Bartitsu.org, is featured in this teaser trailer:
Originally published on the Bartitsu.org site on Saturday, 16th March 2019
This new book by French cultural historian Dominique Kalifa explores the notion of the criminal underworld in Western popular culture, including the infamous Parisian Apache and London hooligan phenomena that fed – and were fed by – numerous scaremongering media reports at the turn of the 20th century. Those reports, in turn, fuelled the urban self-defence craze that arguably began with E.W. Barton-Wright’s Bartitsu and continued largely via English, French and American sources until the outbreak of the First World War.
Vice, Crime and Poverty: How the Western Imagination Invented the Underworld is now available for pre-order Amazon.com and will be released on April 16th, 2019.
Originally published on the Bartitsu.org site on Thursday, 14th March 2019
Bartitsu founder Edward Barton-Wright spent three years, between roughly 1895-98, living in Kobe, Japan, where he worked as an antimony smelting specialist for E.H. Hunter and Company. By his own account, Barton-Wright spent much of his free time there practicing jiujitsu at the traditional Shinden-Fudo Ryu (“School of the Immovable Heart”) dojo of sensei Terajima Kunichiro. Thereby, he became one of the very first Westerners to known to have made a practical study of the Japanese martial arts.
However, Barton-Wright also mentioned that he had taken some lessons with the famed Professor Jigoro Kano, the founder of Kodokan judo. Details of their association are scanty, but Barton-Wright also later stated that, when it came time for him to arrange for some jiujitsu experts to travel to England, he had corresponded with “Professor Kano and other friends in Japan”. This is curious in that, of the three jiujitsuka who originally made that trip, only one – Seizo Yamamoto – had any confirmed prior connection to the Kodokan.
In any case, while Barton-Wright’s experience as a trainee was highly unusual, some other Westerners living at Japan at around the same time did take a more academic interest in the martial arts. The following account of training at the Kodokan was penned by self-described “nomad” and travel writer Gertrude Adams Fisher, and represents a rare and picturesque glimpse into Professor Kano’s famous academy during the very early 20th century.
A contrasting institution, of equal fame in the land, is the Judo school of Professor Kano, its founder, who is a unique factor in the country. As Kano was journeying in China, Tomita Tsunejira carried on the school and received the guests. Red tape and a special permit secured the entry, and repaid all effort. A score of men jumped to their feet, as my riksha rolled into the court. Spectators are always drawn to the school, and there were idlers, and coolies in blue. The lobby seemed a dressing-room, where scores of suits were pigeon-holed, and where clogs awaited their owners. The urbane manager smiled sweetly and bowed low to my card of introduction, and, in stockinged feet, I curled up like a Turk on the platform, while a score of sturdy men tumbled and bumped and rolled and spun, landing on the classic floor which, for a quarter of a century, had trained athletes and developed wrestlers renowned throughout Japan. The unfurnished room was the cradle of physical skill, the spot where many, by scientific training rather than by weight or power, have learned how to handle men.
Professor Jigoro Kano.
Professor Kano, known as the “Father of modern wrestling,” is a philanthropist, loved by his people. His skill and his devotion have given to the Japanese their reputation as the best tumblers and the most daring acrobats in the world. Neither he nor his manager nor his teachers receive a penny for their work. Love and enthusiasm inspire the workers. Professor Kano has no desire to be wealthy. He is content to draw a salary as professor in the Higher Normal School. There is no sordid motive in his private enterprise, and no school could be more public. “Whosoever will, may come,” without entrance or tuition fee. Money is an unknown element in his school, and its platform is truly democratic. The true sporting spirit for fair play and equal rights prevails. Nobleman, rikman, and coolie are on an equality, and skill in throwing is the only badge of merit. Five thousand pupils have tried their strength on this wrestling field, and they number in their lists a secretary to the British legation. Small boys and mature men are proud to practise here. All wear the same costume, of heavy white, with loose, open jacket and very short trunks. Men of noble families wear a purple sash, while the sash of the ordinary citizen is white, and this is the only mark to distinguish plebeian from patrician, to tell the humblest combatant when he has displaced a man of noble rank. The son of the editor of Japan’s best paper sat by the wall with the humblest natives, and was tossed and thrown by an obscure coolie who outdid him in skill.
The manager declared strongly for the principles which guide the wrestler’s code, and for the value of wrestling in mental and moral gain. The code of ethics is exacting, and many a thoroughly bad boy shows a moral reform after a month at the Judo school. No court code is more precise than the ceremony with which these adversaries approach each other. The ballroom manners of Alphonse to Dulcina, as he asks her for a dance, are no more perfect than those of the opponents in this arena. The suppliant crawls on hands and knees, salaams to the floor, and repeats his fixed form of invitation. The recipient also plays the role of quadruped, bumps his head on the floor, and repeats the ceremonious acceptance. Then they stand erect, come to the centre, and war begins. At the finish follow bows and responses, expressions of mutual gratitude and appreciation; and congratulations, compliments, and recognition of special merit are in order.
The men mark their record in the school register, in strange cabalistic signs dashed on by a brush from a block of India ink. The writing is in columns, beginning at the end, we should say, on the last page of the book, and on the right margin. Here is future proof of each man’s bout, with whom he struggled, and with what result. The test is no child’s play, but deadly earnest from start to finish. Muscles strain, cords swell, eyes dilate, as each man pushes for the mastery. Every movement is thought out for its scientific value. The fray is marked by nimbleness and dexterity. Every sweep of the body is made with lightning flash, and the thought which precedes is quicker than lightning. It is a training of the mental powers and a swift study of cause and effect. The work is based on physical laws. Statics, inertia, the law of bodies at rest, of bodies in motion, of momentum, of velocity, of the lever, the fulcrum, of poise, and the maintenance of gravity, are the foundation of the art. Fair play and a scientific basis are the code.
In his limited English the gracious manager explained the system, and I drank the detested tea, an ubiquitous penance, if one is not fond of the beverage. Tomita Tsunejira explained the word “judo,” which is the key-note to the profession, and which, as he sadly announced, has no equivalent in English. “Ju” means soft, pliant, yielding, and “do” means thoroughness. Freely translated, a thorough doing-up of the opponent, in a soft and easy style. The practical object-lesson did not reveal the softness of the process. Men spun through the air, and fell, slap-slam, on all sides. The soft, yielding matting seemed the only pliant feature. After the toss-up and the thump, men lay for a moment stretched in Delsartean relaxation. Then they rebounded with the spring of a rubber ball, and jumped to the foe, like wiry little spiders. If a shoulder were dislocated, a spasm of pain delayed the game till the bone was shoved back in the socket.
Scientific Wrestling
“I will now show scientific moves,” said Mr. Tsunejira, as he cleared the floor, and called for his two crack teachers. The pupils had been ready for practice. They had held many bouts and brief rests, but they readily retired to give place to the experts. Students knew that rare sport was in store, and they were anxious for the exhibition. With a modest laugh and a smile of pleasure, the men advanced for my benefit. One was short and thick-set, the other slight in figure. They slid along, 1-2-3, as if practising a waltz. Then they twisted their knees, and tied up their bodies in a double knot. They rested, they pushed, and a man was thrown. The beginning and the end were apparent, but only a trained eye could detect the scientific move. Some sudden twist, unexpected, at the right second of poise, had sent the victim sprawling. A few moments were filled with dexterous moves, electric tosses, and quick tumbles. Over the head, on to the shoulder, right, left, across the thigh, a man was tossed like a featherweight in mid-air. The admiring school crouched in envious wonder. The proud manager scanned the play, intent, with knotted brow and wide-open eyes, disapproval and pleasure evident, at the various moves. He would have made a noble daimio in older times, this mixture of courtly grace and stern rigidity. The performers did their best stunts, and gave general pleasure; the manager called a halt, and the teachers retired with profuse expressions of courtesy and compliment. The white and purple sashes of the pupils mingled on the floor, as the men renewed their bouts with fresh impulse and inspiration for the art.
Daily, from three to five P. M., and Sunday morning, from nine to eleven, the school is in session, for that work which makes men ready to see, able to do, willing to dare, courageous in attack, modest in victory, brave in defeat, polite and manly always. The principle and the practice of the school are the making of the soldier, and the humblest men in training here become record-breakers of bravery and endurance at the front.
Here the aspiring lads of Tokio may take few lessons or many, as they choose, and here they have the practice which is one essential in the equipment of every policeman, that he may hand over a scientific touch-down to every tough who needs it.
In the outside court men were drawing water from the deep well to fill the buckets for the after-bath, which is the pleasure and the need of these cleanly people in every walk of life.
For his great and practical philanthropy, Professor Kano has earned the world-wide fame and the national love which he has won. His is patriotic mission work of the highest type, without money and without price, a free gift to the humblest and the highest, for the betterment of mankind, for the making of manly men, who, in time of peace or in time of war, are the strength and bulwark of the nation.
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Originally published on the Bartitsu.org site on Friday, 8th March 2019
Sadakazu Uyenishi was the last of four Japanese jujitsu instructors to be employed at the Bartitsu Club. During 1901, Uyenishi frequently partnered Yukio Tani in Club demonstrations, alternated with Tani in challenge contests and taught self-defence at the Shaftesbury Avenue school of arms.
After the Club’s closure in mid-1902, Uyenishi and Tani largely went their separate ways; Tani especially pursuing a professional challenge wrestling career but also teaching for a few years at the Japanese School of Jujitsu, while Uyenishi opened the Golden Square School of Jujitsu. Although he was clearly more committed to teaching, Uyenishi did quite often compete in challenge contests, as described in this article from the Folkstone Express of July 24, 1907.
Note that Uyenishi was commonly known by his nickname “Raku”, possibly because Edwardian English speakers had difficulty pronouncing his given names.
Jujitsu, the latest thing in the art of wrestling, seems to have taken a strong hold upon not only the sporting public. but the non-sporting portion also. This was evident at the Victoria Pier on Monday evening, where a crowded audience flocked to the Pavilion ostensibly for the purpose of seeing the wrestling performance of Raku, a very clever and skilful exponent of jujitsu.
Raku created a most favourable impression. Of slight build, his weight being about 9st., and of average height, attired in evening dress and wearing gold-rimmed spectacles, the famous Japanese wrestler looked more like a student than anything else. He appeared to be anything but an athlete, until he practiced a few of his wrestling tricks upon his assistant, who posed for the moment as a hooligan. Then the audience were at once convinced of the great wrestling skill of Raku and the usefulness of jujitsu in a sudden and violent attack upon the person.
Having “thrown” his opponent, Raku gave a demonstration of the various “locks,” by which he finally conquers his antagonists. The neck “lock” is a very effective means of overcoming an adversary, and when Raku applied it to his assistant the latter “tapped” vigorously to be released. A “tap” on the floor or the body with the hands is the Japanese acknowledgment of defeat.
Raku offers to give £50 to any wrestler whom he fails to defeat in fifteen minutes, and the management have given a 2-guinea silver challenge cup in connection with a competition held nightly. The final takes place on Friday night, when Raku will wrestle with three men, and the one making the best attempt will receive the cup. If they beat Raku he will, of, course, hand them the £50.
On Monday evening three wrestlers tried conclusions with Raku, and all three had to acknowledge defeat. Mr. Charles Turnham was one, and was disposed of in three minutes. Lance-Corporal Gray, of the East Yorks, was the next competitor, and being slim and agile, he was something of a match for Raku. The bout lasted four and a half minutes. and was full of exciting incidents. The last competitor was Mr. T. Miles, who was stated to turn the scales at l6st.—almost twice the weight of Raku. This proved a strenuous encounter, and Miles was often ” top-dog.” It lasted longer than any of the others, but the result was the same.
It should be stated that in his demonstrations of self-defence, Raku showed how ladies might defend themselves from an attack in the streets.
Posted inJiujitsu|Comments Off on “Raku, the Japanese Wrestler” (1907)
Originally published on the Bartitsu.org site on Thursday, 7th March 2019
The author of this short critical article, first published in the Sheffield Evening Telegraph of 28 August 1901, jumps to several mistaken conclusions about Bartitsu, jiujitsu and Japanese wrestling as a general subject, which are addressed below in italics.
We are hearing so much just now of Mr. Barton-Wright’s introduction into England of what he calls in bastard Japanese “bartitsu,” or the ideal art self-defence, that it is not impertinent to inquire, says the “Daily Chronicle,” why we have never heard of it before.
The answer is that, despite Edward Barton-Wright’s persistant efforts in explaining that “Bartitsu” was the name of his own, new art of self-defence, combining Japanese wrestling with the Vigny cane system and with European boxing, etc., spectators and reviewers frequently missed the fact that Bartitsu included jiujitsu, instead mistakenly assuming that Bartitsu was the name of the Japanese style.
Mr. Wright says that the Japanese hold this secret art of theirs in such reverence that it has never yet been allowed to shown publicly their own land, much less abroad, and we are bound to believe him even though this semi-sacred cult is first revealed to the British public by its native exponents upon a music hall stage.
Barton-Wright himself had exhibited jiujitsu publicly on several occasions prior to the first London music hall displays. Otherwise, he was correct in stating that it had never before been formally exhibited in Europe, apart from a one-off lecture and demonstration by the Japanese banker/jiujitsu enthusiast Tetsuro Shidachi at the inaugural meeting of the Japan London Society.
Although certainly not a “secret art”, jiujitsu was rarely exhibited in Japan during the 1890s and very early 1900s. This was due less to any “semi-sacred cult” status and more to the fact that it was widely regarded as being an obsolete relic of the Edo Period (1603-1868) until Dr. Jigoro Kano’s development and promotion of Kodokan judo, which was still a work in progress during Barton-Wright’s time in Japan.
Tbe system is undoubtedly effective, just as effective indeed as that of the “hooligan,” who, disregarding all recognised rules of offence and defence, hits his opponent where and when he can.
Similar observations about Japanese unarmed combat being comprised of “absolute fouls“, etc., were frequently made by English observers during this period, sometimes as the basis for objections against mixed jiujitsu vs. wrestling contests. Most observers, however, respected Barton-Wright’s point that his music hall exhibitions were intended to illustrate the effect of jiujitsu as an art of self-defence.
The amazing part of it is that, though wrestling has been a sport in Japan for more years than can well be counted, the art of “bartitsu” has never been imported into it. Mr. Wright explained this by saying, first, that the art was a secret one. It was only known among the highest classes; secondly, that for its effective performance grip on some the clothes was necessary, whereas, of course, Japanese wrestlers when they appear the ring are almost nude. These, no doubt, are excellent reasons, but one cannot help thinking that if “bartitsu” is all pretends to be, then even a naked body would offer some holds to an experienced exponent.
The Japanese wrestler, moreover, belongs to a distinct class, and what he does not know about wrestling in an orthodox or even unorthodox way can scarcely worth the knowing.
Here the journalist alludes to sumo wrestling, but overreaches by failing to recognise the fundamental difference between sport and self-defence. Sumo wrestlers did, in fact, employ all manner of jiujitsu-like throws that were advantageous within the rules and conditions of their sport, which automatically discounted all throws in which the thrower fell to the ground before his opponent – an action that would count as a loss on behalf of the first man down – not to mention the gamut of jiujitsu techniques that require gripping the opponent’s jacket. Similarly, numerous jiujitsu techniques such as extended jointlocks, most atemi-waza (striking techniques) and all newaza (mat grappling techniques) were either illegal in, or irrelevant to sumo wrestling, due to safety concerns and to the stylised conventions of winning a sumo contest.
Originally published on the Bartitsu.org site on Thursday, 7th March 2019
James Marwood demonstrates a restraint technique against fellow instructor George Stokoe during the filming of the BBC Timeshift documentary “Everybody was Kung-fu Fighting: The Rise of the Martial Arts in Great Britain”
Click here to read journalist Jessica Keller’s recent interview with Bartitsu instructor James Marwood for American Express Essentials Magazine:
Q – What are a Bartitsu practitioner’s most trusty weapons or resources?
A – Intelligence, thoughtfulness and politeness. Being a good person, with good manners and an open approach to people will take you a lot further in life than anything else. If that fails, then you have the tools to deal with most problems, but ideally you’ll never need them outside of the training hall.
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Originally published on the Bartitsu.org site on Thursday, 28th February 2019
Captain Hutton (right) illustrates the art of rapier and dagger fencing.
A newly-discovered photograph of Captain Alfred Hutton, who is now famed as a pioneer of historical European martial arts reconstruction and of the establishment of competitive fencing as an English sport during the late 19th century. He was also one of the select group of “antagonistics” instructors who taught at the Bartitsu School of Arms.
Hutton was a member of the “committee of gentlemen” responsible for vetting new prospective members of the Bartitsu Club, where he also taught various forms of historical fencing. In addition to teaching his own classes, he studied both the Vigny method of stick fighting and jiujitsu with his fellow instructors.
