The Bartitsu School of Arms: Chicago, 2012

Posted on December 13, 2020 by BartitsuSociety
  • Originally published on the Bartitsu.org site on Wednesday, 25th April 2012

Announcing the second international Bartitsu symposium, to take place in the great city of Chicago, USA between September 8th and 9th, 2012. The event is hosted by the Bartitsu Club of Chicago.

  1. Premise
  2. Training
  3. Schedule
  4. Location and venue
  5. Field trip to the Hegeler Carus Mansion
  6. “Susan Swayne and the Bewildered Bride”
  7. Antagonisticathlon
  8. Prerequisites
  9. Please bring:
  10. Local accommodation options
  11. Registration

Premise
To preserve and extend the pioneering martial arts cross-training experiments begun by E. W. Barton-Wright at the original Bartitsu School of Arms and Physical Culture, circa 1901:

Under Bartitsu is included boxing, or the use of the fist as a hitting medium, the use of the feet both in an offensive and defensive sense, the use of the walking stick as a means of self-defence. Judo and jujitsu, which are secret styles of Japanese wrestling, I would call close play as applied to self-defence.

In order to ensure, as far as it is possible, immunity against injury in cowardly attacks or quarrels, one must understand boxing in order to thoroughly appreciate the danger and rapidity of a well-directed blow, and the particular parts of the body which are scientifically attacked. The same, of course, applies to the use of the foot or the stick.

Judo and jujitsu were not designed as primary means of attack and defence against a boxer or a man who kicks you, but are only to be used after coming to close quarters, and in order to get to close quarters it is absolutely necessary to understand boxing and the use of the foot.

– E.W. Barton-Wright, lecture for the Japan Society of London, 1902

Training

Participants will experience an intense and immersive two days of cross-training and circuit training with fellow enthusiasts, guided by a team of Bartitsu instructors and inspired by the ideal of Barton-Wright’s School of Arms:

In one corner is M. Vigny, the World’s Champion with the single-stick: the Champion who is the acknowledged master of savate trains his pupils in another … he leads you gently on with gloves and single-stick, through the mazes of the arts, until, at last, with your trained eye and supple muscles, no unskilled brute force can put you out, literally or metaphorically.

In another part of the Club are more Champions, this time from far Japan, who will teach you once more of how little you know of the muscles that keep you perpendicular, and of the startling effects of sudden leverage properly applied …

… when you have mastered the various branches of the work done at the Club, which includes a system of physical drill taught by another Champion, this time from Switzerland, the world is before you, even though a “Hooligan” may be behind you …

– “S.L.B.” in the article “Defence Against ‘Hooligans’: Bartitsu Methods in London”, from The Sketch, April 10, 1901

Following the successful model of the inaugural event in London, the 2012 School of Arms will be a “combat laboratory” with participants collaborating as martial athletes, historical scholars and research analysts. Our days will include whole-group training sessions as well as skills-based circuit training and breakout groups concentrating on particular areas of interest. Some cross-training sessions will be team-taught by instructors and others will involve peer-to-peer work.

Instructors and class themes to date (April 22nd – list may be subject to additions and change) include:

Tony Wolf (New Zealand/USA) will be running sessions in combat tactics/biomechanics across each of the Bartitsu skill-sets; twist and segue drills (building upon the stylised canonical Bartitsu sequences through progressive levels of improvisation and resistance as a bridge between set-plays and free-sparring) and c1900 physical culture conditioning exercises.

Keith Jennings will teach aspects of 19th century pugilism (the predecessor of modern boxing) and catch-as-catch-can wrestling, the folk-style which quickly blended with the eclectic jujitsu introduced to the Western world by Barton-Wright, Yukio Tani and Sadakazu Uyenishi at the Bartitsu Club.

Allen Reed (USA) will concentrate on canonical jujitsu sequences and counters to those sequences arising from resistance by the opponent.

Mark Donnelly (UK/USA) will focus on the principles of Bartitsu as outlined in all of the canonical material.  His sessions will demonstrate how canonical Bartitsu outlines tactical approaches to combat at different ranges based on the nature of the threat and the weapons (real or improvised) which are available at that moment.

Schedule

Friday, September 7th: Optional (but highly recommended) field trip to the Hegeler Carus mansion, including historic gymnasium, in LaSalle, Illinois (see details below).  Departing from Forteza Fitness at approximately 12.00 mid-day, mansion tour from approximately 2.00-3.30 pm, returning to Forteza by approximately 6.00 pm. Also optional and recommended on Friday night; a meal in Chicago’s Lincoln Square neighborhood, followed by the play “Susan Swayne and the Bewildered Bride” (see below) at 8.00 pm

Saturday, September 8th: Bartitsu training at the School of Arms venue 9.00 a.m. – 12.30 p.m., 1 hour lunch break, training 1.30 p.m. – 6.00 p.m.; reconvene for dinner, discussions and socialising at O’Shaughnessy’s Public House (4557 N Ravenswood Ave, Chicago, IL 60640 – a three-minute walk from the School of Arms venue) from 7.00 p.m. onwards

Sunday, September 9th: Bartitsu training at the School of Arms venue 9.00 a.m. – 12.30 p.m., 1 hour lunch break, training 1.30 p.m. – 4.15 p.m., antagonisticathlon (see below) from 4.30 – 5.45 p.m.; closing, presentation of participation certificates, group photos and farewells.

Please visit the Events.com website for information on other sporting and cultural events taking place in Chicago during September and TripAdvisor.com for details on the Windy City’s many tourist attractions.

Location and venue

… a huge subterranean hall, all glittering, white-tiled walls, and electric light, with ‘champions’ prowling around it like tigers …

– journalist Mary Nugent, describing the original Bartitsu Club in her January, 1901 article for Sandow’s Magazine of Physical Culture.

The 2012 School of Arms venue is the Forteza Fitness, Physical Culture and Martial Arts studio in Chicago’s popular Ravenswood district.

Specifically inspired by E.W. Barton-Wright’s original Bartitsu School of Arms and Physical Culture, Forteza is one of the very few full-time, dedicated Western martial arts facilities in North America. Old-school brick walls and a soaring exposed-beam timber ceiling enclose a 5000 square foot studio in a c1900 building, which also includes the Gymuseum, a “living museum” of functional antique physical culture equipment.

Please click here to view a fully interactive map of the local area, with the School of Arms venue highlighted. You can also use this map to check routes to and from the venue and accommodation/entertainment options, etc.  Note that the Forteza studio is a three minute walk from the Montrose Brown Line train station.

Free, all day street parking is typically available all along Ravenswood Avenue.  Please do not park in the small parking lot immediately outside the studio door, as the spaces there are reserved for the adjacent businesses.

Field trip to the Hegeler Carus Mansion

Built in the year 1876, the Hegeler Carus mansion is located in LaSalle, a two-hour journey from downtown Chicago. The 57-room mansion is considered to be one of the finest examples of Second Empire architecture in the American Midwest.  It has been the site of numerous historic accomplishments in industry, philosophy, publishing and religion.  For eleven years during the late 19th century, the mansion was the base of Japanese scholar D. T. Suzuki’s efforts to communicate Zen Buddhism to the Western world.

Of particular interest to practitioners of Bartitsu and c1900 physical culture, the Hegeler Carus mansion houses what is believed to be the world’s oldest private gymnasium.  The turnhall (German, “gymnastics room”) still contains its original equipment, including wooden Indian clubs and dumbbells, “Roman rings” suspended from the ceiling, gymnastics poles, climbing ladders and an extremely rare “teeter ladder” device.  D.T. Suzuki himself exercised there.

School of Arms participants are invited to accompany Tony Wolf, a member of the Hegeler Carus Foundation’s advisory board, in a fascinating guided tour of the mansion and historic gym.

Susan Swayne and the Bewildered Bride

After returning from LaSalle, School of Arms participants will be welcome to join us for a meal and a show! The play Susan Swayne and the Bewildered Bride concerns the adventures of the “Society of Lady Detectives” in late-Victorian London, and has been described as “Mary Poppins meets the League of Extraordinary Gentlemen”. They’ve been getting great reviews and the fight choreography includes fencing, knife fighting and, yes, Bartitsu!

The theatre is in Lincoln Square, a five minute drive or easy 12 minute train trip from Forteza.

Your School of Arms registration fee covers your ticket to see “Susan Swayne”. Please let us know whether you will be attending the show, towards our making an accurate group booking.

Antagonisticathlon

Combining fun with challenge, the antagonisticathlon is a fitting final event for the 2012 Bartitsu School of Arms. Participants represent Victorian-era adventurers fighting their way through a gauntlet of obstacles and “assassins”, inspired by Sherlock Holmes fending off Professor Moriarty’s henchmen in The Adventure of the Final Problem. Although the antagonisticathlon is not a competition, “style points” may be awarded at the judges’ discretion …

Prerequisites

In order to ensure good progress for the whole group throughout the School of Arms, certain technical skills are required as prerequisites of participation. These include:

  • basic ukemi (breakfalling) – you must be able to comfortably and safely fall backwards and/or sideways to the left and right from a standing start
  • basic boxing – you must be able to comfortably and safely punch a hand-held, padded striking target with either fist
  • fitness – this will be a physically intense event and you should be in good general physical condition. We will be active all day, each day. People with significant physical challenges should contact the organisers for advice before committing to attending the event

Please bring:

  • A large water or sports drink bottle
  • Exercise clothing resembling 19th century physical culture kit (typically, a plain, form-fitting t-shirt or tanktop/singlet and either yoga pants, fencing pants or gi pants in any combination of the colours black, white, navy blue, maroon or grey)
  • A pair of exercise shoes to be worn during training; please note that outdoor shoes are not permitted on the Forteza studio floor
  • A sturdy crook-handled walking stick and/or rattan rod approximately 36″ in length, with any sharp or rough edges smoothed away

Participants in the antagonisticathlon are encouraged to wear clothing evocative of the Victorian period, if practical.

Fencing masks, gi jackets and sashes, boxing gloves, hand protection for stick fighting, mouth guards, additional body protection (knee/shin pads, groin guards, etc.) are not required, but will be welcome if you can bring them.  A limited number of rattan canes, fencing masks and other items of protective equipment will be available for training and sparring purposes.

We suggest that you bring a light jacket or sweater.  Average temperatures in Chicago during early September are pleasant, ranging from a high of 74°F (23°C) to a low of 55°F (13°C).  The risk of rainfall is low.

Local accommodation options

This map details numerous accommodation options in the vicinity of the Bartitsu School of Arms venue.  Please note that participants are responsible for arranging their own accommodation; this expense is not included in the 2012 School of Arms registration fee.  In selecting accommodation, please note again that Forteza Fitness is very close to the Montrose Brown Line train station.

Update: members of the Bartitsu Club of Chicago are able to offer free homestay accommodation to School of Arms participants on a first-come, first serve basis. Please contact tonywolf@gmail.com to discuss the homestay option.

Registration

The 2012 Bartitsu School of Arms is a boutique symposium hosted by the Bartitsu Club of Chicago. The event is strictly limited to 30 participants aged 18 years and older.

The registration fee for the event is US$120.00 (€91.00, £74.00). You can register and pay online (Visa, MasterCard, Discover, American Express and PayPal) via this link:

If you wish to register for a single day, please send US$60.00 via PayPal to tonywolf@gmail.com , clearly noting whether you are booking for Saturday or Sunday training.

Payment may also be made in cash or by credit card on the day, but it is crucial in these cases to make advance contact via tonywolf@gmail.com to ensure that there will be a free space.

Please note that your registration fee goes towards operational expenses associated with running the School of Arms. Participants are responsible for arranging for their own accommodation and buying their own meals and drinks.

We hope to see you soon in Chicago!

Posted in Antagonistics, Bartitsu School of Arms, Boxing, Canonical Bartitsu, Instruction, Jiujitsu, Physical Culture, Savate, Vigny stick fighting | Comments Off on The Bartitsu School of Arms: Chicago, 2012

The Bartitsu School of Arms: London 2011

Posted on December 11, 2020 by BartitsuSociety
  • Originally published on the Bartitsu.org site on Wednesday, 25th May 2011

Announcing the first international Bartitsu symposium, to take place in the great city of London, England, U.K. between August 26 and 28, 2011.

The 2011 Bartitsu School of Arms is a boutique symposium sponsored by the Linacre School of Defence. The event is strictly limited to 25 participants aged 18 years and older.

  1. Premise
  2. Training
  3. Schedule
  4. Location and venue
  5. Nights at the Sherlock Holmes
  6. Prerequisites
  7. Please bring:
  8. Local accommodation options
  9. Certificates of participation
  10. Registration

Premise

To preserve and extend the pioneering martial arts cross-training experiments begun by E. W. Barton-Wright at the original Bartitsu School of Arms and Physical Culture, circa 1901:

Under Bartitsu is included boxing, or the use of the fist as a hitting medium, the use of the feet both in an offensive and defensive sense, the use of the walking stick as a means of self-defence. Judo and jujitsu, which were secret styles of Japanese wrestling, he would call close play as applied to self-defence.

In order to ensure as far as it was possible immunity against injury in cowardly attacks or quarrels, they must understand boxing in order to thoroughly appreciate the danger and rapidity of a well-directed blow, and the particular parts of the body which were scientifically attacked. The same, of course, applied to the use of the foot or the stick.

Judo and jujitsu were not designed as primary means of attack and defence against a boxer or a man who kicks you, but were only to be used after coming to close quarters, and in order to get to close quarters it was absolutely necessary to understand boxing and the use of the foot.

– E.W. Barton-Wright, lecture for the Japan Society of London, 1902

Training

Participants will experience an intense and immersive two days of training with fellow enthusiasts, guided by a team of Bartitsu instructors and inspired by the cross-training/circuit training model of Barton-Wright’s School of Arms:

In one corner is M. Vigny, the World’s Champion with the single-stick: the Champion who is the acknowledged master of savate trains his pupils in another … he leads you gently on with gloves and single-stick, through the mazes of the arts, until, at last, with your trained eye and supple muscles, no unskilled brute force can put you out, literally or metaphorically.

In another part of the Club are more Champions, this time from far Japan (who) will teach you once more of how little you know of the muscles that keep you perpendicular, and of the startling effects of sudden leverage properly applied …

… when you have mastered the various branches of the work done at the Club, which includes a system of physical drill taught by another Champion, this time from Switzerland, the world is before you, even though a “Hooligan” may be behind you …

– “S.L.B.” in the article “Defence Against ‘Hooligans’: Bartitsu Methods in London”, from The Sketch, April 10, 1901

The 2011 School of Arms will be a “combat laboratory” with participants collaborating as martial athletes, historical scholars and research analysts. Our days will include whole-group training sessions as well as skills-based circuit training and breakout groups concentrating on particular areas of interest. Some cross-training sessions will be team-taught by instructors and others will involve peer-to-peer work.

Confirmed instructors and subjects to date (August 4th) include:

Tony Wolf (New Zealand/USA) will be running sessions in combat tactics/biomechanics across each of the skill-sets; twist and segue drills (building upon the stylised canonical Bartitsu sequences through progressive levels of improvisation and resistance as a bridge between set-plays and free-sparring) and c1900 physical culture conditioning exercises.

James Marwood (UK) will focus on practical applications of Bartitsu principles, specifically the use of boxing/pugilism and jujitsu atemi-waza and grappling to deal with assaults. Working from the premise that such an assault will be a surprise, James will show that the base arts and principles of Bartitsu can be applied to vastly increase one’s chance of a successful outcome.

Allen Reed (USA) will concentrate on canonical jujitsu sequences and counters to those sequences arising from resistance by the opponent.

George Stokoe (UK) will teach a special class in tactical low kicking techniques.

Stefan Dieke (Germany) will teach “La Canne Vigny through the eyes of a swordsman: another look at ‘Self defence with a walking stick’”. Structured along swordfighting tactics, this class will revisit a number of key sequences and their variations from Barton-Wright’s Self Defence with a Walking Stick article, paying special attention to distance and time according to fencing theory.

Friday, August 26: dinner, orientation and socialising from 7.00 p.m. onwards in the back bar of the Salisbury pub (90 Saint Martin’s Lane). Built in 1892, the Salisbury is about a six minute walk from the Shaftesbury Avenue site of the original Bartitsu Club. Who knows, perhaps Barton-Wright and his colleagues used to frequent it …

Saturday, August 27: training at the School of Arms venue 9.00 a.m.-12.30 p.m., 1 1/4 hour lunch break, training 1.45 p.m. – 6.00 p.m.; reconvene for dinner, discussions and socialising at the Sherlock Holmes pub and restaurant (10-11 Northumberland Street, Westminster, London WC2N 5DB – see further info. below) from 7.00 p.m. onwards

Sunday, August 28: training at the School of Arms venue 9.00 a.m.-12.30 p.m., 1 1/4 hour lunch break, training 1.45 p.m. – 6.00 p.m.; closing, presentation of certificates, group photos and farewells; another night at the Sherlock Holmes for participants whose schedules allow it.

Note that the following day, Monday August 29th, is the Summer Bank Holiday in the U.K. School of Arms participants may wish to stay in London to enjoy the local festivities, including the world-famous Notting Hill Carnival. For other events and attractions in London during August please see this website.

Location and venue

… a huge subterranean hall, all glittering, white-tiled walls, and electric light, with ‘champions’ prowling around it like tigers …

– journalist Mary Nugent, describing the original Bartitsu Club in her article “Barton-Wright and his Japanese Wrestlers” for Sandow’s Magazine of Physical Culture, January 1901.

The 2011 School of Arms venue is a historic and atmospheric Victorian-era building on the South Bank of the River Thames:

This unique facility is adjacent to the Guy’s Hospital complex, which hosted one of E.W. Barton-Wright’s Bartitsu exhibitions in the year 1900.

Please click here to view a fully interactive map of the local area, with the School of Arms venue highlighted. You can also use this map to check routes to and from the venue and accommodation/entertainment options, etc.

Nights at the Sherlock Holmes

I have some knowledge, however, of baritsu …

– Sherlock Holmes on his defeat of Professor Moriarty at Reichenbach Falls

After a challenging day of cross-training in Victorian-era martial arts and combat sports, what better way to relax than at the Sherlock Holmes pub and restaurant?

The Sherlock Holmes is a short trip by tube from the School of Arms venue. Here you will enjoy traditional English meals, socialising and discussing matters Bartitsuvian with your colleagues.

We suggest that you budget for £15.00 (€17.00, US$25.00) per main course and dessert at the Sherlock Holmes restaurant. The average price of a glass of beer in a London pub is £2.24 (€2.05, US$3.06).

Prerequisites

In order to ensure good progress for the whole group throughout the symposium, certain technical skills are required as prerequisites of participation. These include:

* basic ukemi (breakfalling) – you must be able to comfortably and safely fall backwards and/or sideways in both directions from a standing start, as shown here:

* basic boxing – you must be able to comfortably and safely punch a hand-held, padded striking target with either fist

* fitness – this will be a physically intense event and you should be in good general physical condition. We will be active all day, each day. People with significant physical challenges should contact the organisers for advice before committing to attending the event.

* canonical Bartitsu sequences – you will require a working knowledge of the formal unarmed combat and stick fighting sequences detailed by E.W. Barton-Wright in his four-part article series, “The New Art of Self Defence” and “Self Defence with a Walking Stick”. Barton-Wright’s articles are reproduced in Volume 1 of the Bartitsu Compendium and are also available online here. These formal sequences will be used as conceptual platforms for neo-Bartitsu training at the School of Arms.

Please bring:

* A large, full water or sports drink bottle – please note that water is not easily available at the venue
* Comfortable exercise clothing
* A sturdy crook-handled walking stick and/or strong (hardwood) dowel approximately 36″ in length, with any sharp edges smoothed away

Fencing masks, gi jackets, boxing gloves, mouth guards, additional body protection (knee/shin pads, groin guards, etc.) are not required but will be welcome if you can bring them. A limited number of rattan canes will be available for sparring purposes.

Local accommodation options

Note that participants are responsible for booking and paying for their own accommodation; this expense is not included in the 2011 School of Arms registration fee.

St Christopher’s Village Hostel and the nearby St. Christopher’s Inn Hostel are both within a ten-minute walk or three minute car/cab journey from the School of Arms venue. Both hostels offer low-cost, few-frills accommodation with the options of private or dorm-style rooms, plus breakfast.

The 5-star London Bridge Hotel and 4-star London Southwalk Rose Hotel are also within a ten-minute walk of the School of Arms venue.

Numerous other London accommodation options are available via this site.

Certificates of participation

Each participant in the 2011 School of Arms will receive a handsome certificate as a memento of their time at this historic event.

Registration

The registration fee for the event is £80.00 (€90.08, US$129.00). You can register and pay online (Visa, MasterCard, Discover, American Express and PayPal) via this link:

Registration for single days (£40.00) should be sent via PayPal to tonywolf@gmail.com , clearly noting whether you are booking for Saturday or Sunday training. Payments on the day, at the door are possible, but it is crucial in these cases to make advance contact via tonywolf@gmail.com to ensure that there will be a free space.

Please note that your registration fee goes towards operational expenses associated with running the School of Arms. Participants are responsible for booking and paying for their own accommodation and for buying their own meals and drinks.

We hope to see you soon in London!

Posted in Antagonistics, Bartitsu School of Arms, Boxing, Canonical Bartitsu, Instruction, Jiujitsu, Physical Culture, Savate, Vigny stick fighting | Comments Off on The Bartitsu School of Arms: London 2011

The Fighting Arts of Sherlock Holmes, Part 1

Posted on December 11, 2020 by BartitsuSociety
  • Originally published on the Bartitsu.org site on Tuesday, 9th February 2010

Bartitsu.org is pleased to present this two-part article series by Bartitsu Society member Mike Ball.

The unusually action-heavy focus of the recently released Sherlock Holmes movie highlights a certain misconception about one of history’s greatest fictional detectives – the idea that he is solely a detective and possesses no physical skills to complement his intellect. Read on, and you will discover, if you were not already aware, that not only was Holmes skilled in fisticuffs and other manly arts [1], but that his creator’s choice of combative methods have roots in a very rich and interesting martial history.

A Master of Antagonistics

It is mentioned by Watson, as the narrator of the first Sherlock Holmes story “A Study in Scarlet”, that Holmes is “an expert singlestick player, boxer, and swordsman”, and there are several references in the canon to Holmes employing the first two of these skills. These references are fairly scant [2], possibly because Conan Doyle did not want his stories compared to those published in the “penny dreadfuls”, which were a sort of British precursor to the pulp novels of the ’30s and ’40s. Their lurid tales were often heavy on the action and the fight scenes tended to be prolonged and detailed.

There is no incidence of Holmes using an actual sword on any of his cases, but one of his other noted athletic pursuits does in fact derive from the usage of the blade. Singlestick, also sometimes referred to as cudgel-play, was a method of fencing that simulated the use of the broadsword and sabre, and was to these weapons somewhat as the foil is to the rapier. Practised as it was with a round wooden rod about forty inches in length, skills acquired in this game could be immediately applied to defending oneself with the gentleman’s walking stick. In “The Adventure of the Illustrious Client”, Holmes goes up against multiple assailants and despite his singlestick expertise, comes off second best:

“I’m a bit of a single-stick expert, as you know. I took most of them on my guard. It was the second man that was too much for me.”

Here is the encounter from “The Adventure of the Illustrious Client” as interpreted by the fight choreographer of the Granada Television series, starring Jeremy Brett. Rather than the sword-derived techniques of singlestick, however, the focus is on two-handed methods which are more suitable for the close range at which the fight scene has been constructed.

Boxing

“Only a ruffian deals a blow with the back of the hand. A gentleman uses the straight left!”
– Jeremy Brett as Sherlock Holmes

Boxing in the English sporting tradition, which predates many Eastern forms of combat (its origins are several centuries older than aikido, judo, tae kwon do and karate, to name a few), was of great interest to Conan Doyle. He praised the old prize-ring bare-knuckle style of boxing as well as the newer style and thought “better that our sports should be a little too rough than that we should run a risk of effeminacy.”

Boxing during the era of the London Prize Ring (the ruleset utilised before that of modern boxing, which is based on rules known as the Marquess of Queensbury rules) was practised mostly by the lower classes, and pugilists would often be hoping to fight their way out of poverty, just as they would later during the Great Depression. The sport attracted many rich and powerful fans, known as “The Fancy”, who might become the patron of a particular boxer, thus giving him the chance to earn a decent living.

A depiction of one of bare-knuckle champion Daniel Mendoza’s fights, from the 1934 movie The Scarlet Pimpernel.

As social attitudes changed towards the end of the 1800s, however, boxing was modified to make it less bloody and barbaric. Gloves became mandatory, throwing was banned, and the number and duration of rounds was limited. This new, more palatable, form of the sport caused a new amateur or “scientific” boxing scene to spring up that became very much in vogue among the gentlemanly classes, and it was this kind of boxing, as typified by the Oxford and Cambridge Varsity fisticuffs, that would have been studied by Conan Doyle and Holmes.

Holmes was an accomplished amateur boxer, and it is suggested by a former opponent of his that, had he chosen, he could have taken it to a professional level and really “been a contendah”:

“I don’t think you can have forgotten me. Don’t you remember the amateur who fought three rounds with you at Alison’s rooms on the night of your benefit four years back?”

“Not Mr. Sherlock Holmes!” roared the prize-fighter. “God’s truth! how could I have mistook you? If instead o’ standin’ there so quiet you had just stepped up and given me that cross-hit of yours under the jaw, I’d ha’ known you without a question. Ah, you’re one that has wasted your gifts, you have! You might have aimed high, if you had joined the fancy.”

-from “The Sign of the Four”

The other significant reference to boxing can be found in “The Adventure of the Solitary Cyclist”. Holmes related the bar-room brawl thus:

“He had a fine flow of language, and his adjectives were very vigorous. He ended a string of abuse by a vicious backhander, which I failed to entirely avoid. The next few minutes were delicious. It was a straight left against a slogging ruffian. I emerged as you see me. Mr. Woodley went home in a cart.”

Holmes is characteristically terse in describing this encounter, so let’s watch Jeremy Brett go through the pugilistic motions:

The oft-lampooned circular movement of the arms, known as milling, was in fact a real tactic which was used to keep your opponent guessing as to where the next blow would come from. The guard is lower and extended further from the head than in modern boxing. This is a holdover from the old bareknuckle days when it was much more important to keep your opponent at a distance, both because the sport used to incorporate standup grappling and throws and also because un-gloved punches are more apt to seriously damage the face.


Illustration from period amateur boxing manual showing the typical guard position

Skipping a ‘T’ – The Mystery of Baritsu

He drew no weapon, but he rushed at me and threw his long arms around me. He knew that his own game was up, and was only anxious to revenge himself upon me. We tottered together upon the brink of the fall. I have some knowledge, however, of baritsu, or the Japanese system of wrestling, which has more than once been very useful to me. I slipped through his grip, and he with a horrible scream kicked madly for a few seconds and clawed the air with both his hands. But for all his efforts he could not get his balance, and over he went.

– Sherlock Holmes, The Adventure of the Empty House

The most intriguing of all the references to Holmes’ combative skills is also perhaps the most throwaway, serving as little more than a deus ex machina. By 1893 Conan Doyle felt that his true calling as an author was to pen historical novels, and in order to fully dedicate himself to this new literary pursuit he decided that it was time for his creation to retire. The Adventure of the Final Problem ended with Watson discovering that Holmes had plunged to his death down the Reichenbach Falls, taking his arch-nemesis Moriarty with him. Conan Doyle’s hero had, with his final act, done the world a great favour and concluded his career in the most fitting way possible.


Sydney Paget’s famous illustration of the struggle at Reichenbach Falls

But the fans couldn’t let a sleeping detective lie, and public clamour for more Holmes was such that a decade later, death became a revolving door. In 1903 The Adventure of the Empty House was serialised in The Strand magazine, revealing that Holmes had survived his showdown atop the waterfall. Conan Doyle ascribed Holmes’ miraculous survival to the martial art of baritsu, also described as a system of Japanese wrestling.

For much of the next century Holmes aficionados speculated upon exactly what this previously-unknown art was. Was it an on-the-spot fabrication by Conan Doyle? Was it a lost samurai combat art? Was it perhaps a synonym for judo, jiujitsu or sumo? To further compound the mystery, American publishers of Holmes’ adventures replaced “baritsu” with “jiujitsu”, deeming the original too obscure.

The answer lay in the pages of Pearson’s Magazine, a publication for which Conan Doyle was writing at the turn of the century. At this time, a vogue for publications on civilian self-defense had come about, fuelled by increasing panic over violent gang activity in the major cities of Europe. Several such articles had appeared in Pearson’s, authored by a man named Edward William Barton-Wright. He claimed to have created a “New Art of Self-Defense”, and his articles were adorned with pictures of the impressively-moustached Barton-Wright engaging in various methods of self-protection with a partner dressed in traditional Japanese martial arts uniform. The name of his method – a portmanteau of his own name and the recently popularised martial art of jiujitsu – Bartitsu.


A sequence from Barton-Wright’s first article in Pearson’s Magazine

When these articles were unearthed again by Holmes fans and martial arts historians many decades later, the connection became clear. In choosing a fighting art and miracle plot device for Sherlock Holmes, Conan Doyle, for one reason or another, misplaced a “t”.[3]

Some Knowledge of Bartitsu

“…I have introduced a new style of self-defence, which can be very terrible in the hands of a quick and confident exponent.
– E.W. Barton-Wright

Although the actual connection is small, Bartitsu is nevertheless a significant part of the Holmes canon, and if one is “playing the Great Game” as fans do, it can be assumed that the style was a major part of Holmes’ fighting repertoire. Bartitsu’s history is also an interesting and important part of both Eastern and Western martial arts history in general, and for these reasons it is worth providing a brief account.

Edward William Barton-Wright was a British civil engineer and surveyor who lived and worked in Japan for three years during the 1890s. A self-professed lifelong enthusiast of the arts of self-defense, he took the opportunity during his stay there to study judo and jiujitsu. Upon his return, he set about developing a well-rounded system of personal defense that would cover all the major ranges of combat. To the forms of Japanese martial arts he would add British boxing, French savate kickboxing, European wrestling, and a form of fighting with a walking stick developed by a Swiss master of arms [4]. Bartitsu also incorporated some less formal “hooligan” street methods as well as a physical training system.

Probably the first man to teach Japanese martial arts in the West, Edward William Barton-Wright was a great unsung pioneer in the field. His eclectic art, the first known to combine Asian and European fighting styles, was an excellent fit for the character and the existing physical skill-set of Sherlock Holmes. Were it not for the mention in “The Adventure of the Empty House”, the art would most likely still be unknown, or seen as a relic of Edwardian-era eccentricity. Who knows, perhaps if Conan Doyle had utilised the correct spelling and given greater mention to Bartitsu, the publicity might have been enough to keep it alive.[5]

Notes

[1] And why should he not be? One would expect that a man who specialises in applying himself fully to the mastery of his choice areas of study ought to be able to pick up a thing or two about fighting. Just as with another great fictional detective who wears a cape and cowl instead of a deerstalker hat!

[2] It is likely that Holmes would have fought more than a handful of times during the four decades over which the canon takes place, or else he would be out of practice!

[3] One newspaper account also misspelled “Bartitsu” as “Baritsu”, which may account for Conan Doyle’s error. Other theories includes worries over copyright infringement, or that Conan Doyle did not wish to write out something that had the word “tit” in it!

[4] This method would later be incorporated into the combat syllabus of the Jewish paramilitary group in Palestine that later became the Israel Defense Forces.

[5] “Baritsu” occasionally popped up in popular culture – the Shadow and Doc Savage were two other fictional characters who were revealed to have learned it, and in Detective Comics #572 the aged Sherlock Holmes himself employed the art in assisting Batman.

On to Part Two of “The Fighting Arts of Sherlock Holmes”.

Posted in Antagonistics, Baritsu, Boxing, Canonical Bartitsu, E. W. Barton-Wright, Jiujitsu, Pop-culture, Sherlock Holmes, Video | Comments Off on The Fighting Arts of Sherlock Holmes, Part 1

The Fighting Arts of Sherlock Holmes, Part 2

Posted on December 11, 2020 by BartitsuSociety

Part two of Mike Ball’s article series on the Great Detective’s antagonistic skills.

Arthur Conan Doyle’s spelling error allows for some creative license in the depiction of his fighting skills – in “playing the Great Game” it can be said that Holmes’ fictional baritsu is different to Barton-Wright’s real-world Bartitsu. “Baritsu” could in fact be anything at all (although strictly speaking the main component should be Japanese wrestling [1]). The rest of this article examines some fight scenes from various TV and film adaptations, and compares them to the component arts and techniques of Bartitsu and Holmes’ other skills.

Sherlock Holmes (2009)

The concepts behind the fight choreography of the latest movie involved more than just the Victorian/Edwardian-era martial arts that made up Bartitsu. As fight choreographer Richard Ryan explains it:

“Bartitsu for [Holmes] was a starting point, and like any good martial artist, he continued to explore crossover points and philosophies between various martial arts. Whilst there is nothing in the script to indicate it, we followed the premise that in addition to Bartitsu, Holmes had a book or manual of Chinese Boxing and that he chose to test that system in a very pragmatic and practical manner by participating in bare-knuckle fights.”

Robert Downey Jr. is a practitoner of Wing Chun kung fu and so this was chosen as the basis of the movie’s “baritsu”. Ryan also ensured that the other ranges of combat were also covered in order to give Holmes a well-rounded fighting style that at least captured the spirit of Bartitsu:

“The film is competing with modern action films, such as Bourne and Bond, for an audience and I knew that with the creative and fight teams we had, our movie Bartitsu would be a modern interpretation. However, I wanted to capture the flavour of Victorian Bartitsu so I focused on the fighting ranges. I believed that if we could use the cane, foot, fist and grappling ranges then we would be able to create something that worked for both the contemporary and Victorian aesthetics.”

Although this is most likely a coincidence, Wing Chun shares some similarities with boxing from that era. Both styles have an upright fighting stance and utilise punches with the fist vertically oriented, as contrasted with modern boxing which has a more hunched-over, tucked-in stance and punches with a palm-down horizontal fist.


A typical upright Wing Chun stance

The Wing Chun influence can be most strongly recognised in the bare-knuckle boxing scene:

Holmes employs slapping and elbow blocks characteristic of Wing Chun, as well as vertical-fist punches that could be either Wing Chun or old-school pugilism [2]. The scene also incorporates other striking techniques, including edge-of-hand blows (which were used in many Japanese jiu-jitsu styles) and a savatesque kick.

The device of having Holmes lay out his “battle plan” of techniques before executing them was an excellent example of Holmes’ characteristic clear logical thinking and attention to detail. It was also utilised in the opening of the film, where Holmes employs a flurry of strikes to vital points to disable one of Blackwood’s henchmen. These strikes, although not in the known Bartitsu “syllabus” (with the possible exception of the punch to the liver, which would likely have been used to great effect in boxing), would probably be not unknown to martial artists at the time.

Both Watson and Holmes fight with their walking-sticks during the movie, and although the one-handed techniques resemble sword methods and standard stage combat more than they do the high-handed guard style of Bartitsu’s cane system, there are also lots of two-handed techniques similar to Bartitsu’s.

Two-handed bayonet-style technique from Pearson’s Magazine article

Several of the sticks used by the characters in the movie double as sword-canes. As well as Bartitsu, one could in fact also learn swordplay at the Bartitsu Club. Both contemporary and historical fencing were taught, the latter being explored by a group of swordsmen led by the famous Dragoon officer Captain Alfred Hutton. The Club was the headquarters in England of the Victorian revival of ancient swordplay methods. If Holmes had studied Bartitsu, he may also have had the chance to add to his fencing technique repertoire.

Another weapon favoured by Holmes was the riding crop. In “The Adventure of the Six Napoleons” Watson claims that a “loaded hunting crop” was Holmes’ favourite weapon. “Loading” refers to the practice of filling a weapon with lead to increase its bludgeoning potential.

In “The Red-Headed League” he uses it to disarm a gun-wielding attacker:

“The light flashed upon the barrel of a revolver, but Holmes’s hunting crop came down on the man’s wrist, and the pistol clinked upon the stone floor.”

In the movie Holmes unsuccessfully attacks the giant Frenchman with a riding crop during their first encounter. Irene Adler very successfully uses a smaller weapon, a “life-preserver”, which is a leather-covered weapon with a similar semi-rigid structure to a riding crop.

An antique “life preserver”

The grappling techniques in the film can be directly linked to Bartitsu [3]. Watson uses a rear naked choke, commonly known as a “sleeper hold”, to help Holmes subdue an attacker at the beginning of the film. This choke is a classic judo and jiujitsu technique.

The giant Frenchman is finally dealt with by way of an armbar, which is also extremely common in judo and jiujitsu. Here it is as depicted in “The Game of Ju-jitsu”, a book co-authored by Yukio Tani, who was one of Barton-Wright’s star jiujitsu players at the Club. Tani is the man performing the technique in the photo.

One final aspect of the Bartitsu curriculum that is worth mentioning is the use of articles of clothing. This idea was drawn not from any style of jiujitsu but rather from the street tricks of 19th century “hooligans” and gangsters. Hats, overcoats and even a handkerchief are used on several occasions in the film by Watson and Holmes to entangle or obscure the vision of their opponents.

Confounding an opponent with an overcoat – from Pearson’s Magazine article

In summary, the “baritsu” of this movie incorporates boxing, other empty-hand strikes, kicking, grappling and weaponry, staying true to the eclectic nature of Bartitsu. Watson’s fighting style was actually closer to the Bartitsu blend than Holmes’, as the former had no apparent Wing Chun influence and stuck to classic boxing, jiujitsu and cane fighting. With, of course, some help from his trusty revolver. [4]

The Final Problem and the Adventure of the Empty House

In this sequence from the classic Granada TV series, Holmes relies on agility, cunning, sheer luck and finally baritsu to defeat a series of assassination attempts.

Holmes’ encounter with Moriarty at the Falls is undoubtedly the most famous of all of his fights, though all we know about the proceedings is that Moriarty rushed at Holmes and grabbed him with both arms, and that Holmes was somehow able to escape his adversary’s grasp using his “knowledge of baritsu”.

This scene is a popular one amongst Holmes re-enactors and here we shall look at two televised adaptations, the first from the Granada TV version of “The Empty House”.

Holmes breaks Moriarty’s grip with a wristlock, stuns him with a kick and then applies a powerful bear hug and throw which sends him tumbling over the edge.

Another re-imagining of the fight can be found in the Soviet TV series “The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson”. This version is a more prolonged rough-and-tumble affair, and the choreography appears to be more wrestling-based:

A Study in Terror (1965)

This film pits Sherlock Holmes against one of Victorian London’s most notorious criminals, Jack the Ripper.

The first fight scene has Holmes and Watson being attacked by a gang of knife and bludgeon-wielding criminals. Both fencing and bayonet methods are used with the cane, along with some jujitsu-like throwing and brawling punches; although the resemblance is probably co-incidental, this fight choreography is remarkably close to Bartitsu:

Later in the movie Holmes performs a knife disarm against a static threat.

It is possible that unarmed defenses against weapons may have been trained at the Bartitsu Club, as Barton-Wright himself claimed to have some real-world experience in this area:

“I may state that I have repeatedly been attacked during a long residence in Portugal by men with knife or six-foot quarter-staff, and have in all cases succeeded in disabling my adversary without being hurt myself, although I had not even a stick in my hand with which to defend myself.”

He also implies that although he does not show any in his articles, he is willing to teach such methods:

“Objection may be taken to my stating that a man who attacks you with a knife or other weapon can be easily disarmed, while I do not say how this is to be done in any of the illustrated explanations on the following pages. At the request of the editor, who thought it inadvisable that such great publicity should be given to these feats, I have purposely omitted them.

If the readers of PEARSON’S MAGAZINE desire to be further initiated into the ways of meeting every conceivable contingency, I would ask them to make direct application to me.”

Holmes also defended himself against a bladed threat in “The Naval Treaty”:

“Well, he has rather more viciousness than I gave him credit for, has Master Joseph. He flew at me with his knife, and I had to grasp him twice, and got a cut over the knuckles, before I had the upper hand of him. He looked murder out of the only eye he could see with when we had finished, but he listened to reason and gave up the papers.”

The final fight of the movie is mostly generic rough-and-tumble, however Holmes does use a wrist throw that appears to be from jiujitsu.

In the Spirit of Bartitsu

Here, just out of interest, we shall look at a couple of non-Holmesian sources that display Bartitsu-esque choreography.

The first is from the James Cagney movie “Blood on the Sun”. Cagney, already an excellent boxer, learned judo for this movie and would eventually go on to earn his black belt. His first teacher was John Halloran, an LAPD police officer who also plays his adversary. Cagney and Halloran choreographed the fights for this movie together.

The scene shows a hard-hitting, realistic-looking mix of boxing, edge-of-hand blows, low kicks, and judo throws and groundwork (there’s that armbar again…). Aside from the fact that it incorporates a more modern style of boxing, this fight is probably close to what the empty-handed methods of Bartitsu looked like.

A number of television heroes have displayed Bartitsu-like fighting skills, including:

Adam Adamant, a Victorian-era gentleman adventurer frozen in a block of ice and thawed out in swinging ’60s London. Adamant wielded a mean sword-cane and mixed boxing, jiujitsu and wrestling when unarmed:

John Steed, the dapper Edwardian-styled secret agent whose primary weapons were his seemingly indestructible crook-handled umbrella and a steel-reinforced bowler hat. Steed also made adroit use of boxing and judo/jiujitsu:

Quentin Everett Deverill, “Q.E.D.”, a brilliant American scientist living in Edwardian London, whose adventures occasionally required him to resort to manly fisticuffs and succinct jiujitsu:

And there you have it! Next time you come across someone who doubts Sherlock Holmes’ credentials as a man of action, point them this way!

Notes

[1] It may be that Holmes just chose not to mention baritsu’s non-grappling methods, for the sake of brevity. The real-life “Japanese wrestling”, the world-reknowned art of judo, actually contains little-known striking techniques and self-defense sequences that have gradually been de-emphasised in favour of the sporting applications of the art.

[2] It should be noted that Wing Chun was unknown in the Western world at this time.

[3] Director Guy Ritchie is actually a practitioner of Brazilian Jiu-jitsu, an art which is descended from judo and contains many of the same techniques as judo and classical Japanese jiujitsu.

[4] As far as we know, firearms techniques were never taught at the Bartitsu Club. Several self-defense instructors from that era did however incorporate them into their syllabuses, such as Jean-Joseph Rénaud, who had studied jiujitsu under former Club instructors and went on to write an excellent volume on self-defense titled “La Défense dans La Rue”.

Posted in Antagonistics, Baritsu, Boxing, Canonical Bartitsu, E. W. Barton-Wright, Jiujitsu, Pop-culture, Sherlock Holmes, Video, Vigny stick fighting | Comments Off on The Fighting Arts of Sherlock Holmes, Part 2

“Sherlock Holmes and Bartitsu” (Part One)

Posted on December 11, 2020 by BartitsuSociety
  • Originally published on the Bartitsu.org site on Saturday, 28th August 2010

The Bartitsu Society is privileged to be able to host this memoir by Michael Bertram Wooster, the grandson of the late Sir Henry St John Merrivale, 9th Baronet (1871-1965).

Sir Henry’s acquaintance with the illustrious Holmes family offers fascinating insight into Sherlock Holmes’ infatuation with the antagonistic arts, as methods of self defence were described at the turn of the 20th century. Most intriguing and significant, from our point of view, is the revelation that S. Holmes actively collaborated with E. W. Barton-Wright in the founding of Bartitsu …

Sir Henry was the founding head of the Security Service Bureau’s Office of Counter-Intelligence. He served in that position between 1909 and 1914. His office was enfolded into the Directorate of Military Intelligence Section 5 (MI-5) shortly after the outbreak of World War I. During this time his only superior was Captain Vernon Kell, a man my grandfather detested.

Captain Vernon Kell

Sir Henry’s job often brought him into contact with Mycroft Holmes, who was then a senior official in the Foreign Office. Both men were members of the Diogenes, a venerable Pall Mall Gentleman’s Club. (There is a bit of controversy over when the two actually met. My great grand-uncle, George Byron Merrivale, spread scandalous rumors that the Old Man was actually Mycroft’s bastard son. I will note these rumors only to say that I don’t believe them. The idea of portly young Mycroft Holmes seducing Agnes Honoria Merrivale, staunch Methodist daughter of the Reverend William Gayle, is enough to make one laugh.)

Nevertheless, Holmes and Merrivale became good friends and formal confidants, after the reserved fashion of those times. It was my grandfather’s influence – and his large private collection of Holmes family memorabilia – which persuaded the Vernet Foundation in Paris to allow me – at that time, a mere Oxford undergraduate – entree to its Sherlock Holmes archives.

From these sources I have had access to information which, I believe, allows me to speak with some minor authority on the subject of Sherlock Holmes, Jujutsu and Bartitsu.

I can tell you this:

Sherlock Holmes, as an athlete, tended to focus on those exercises which strengthened the muscles and improved his cardiovascular system. He walked, hiked, wrestled and swam. He was an early advocate of both Hatha Yoga and scientific weight-training. (His archive contained correspondences with Swami Vivekananda, Dr. Dudley Allen Sargent of Harvard’s Hemenway Gymnasium, the wrestler Martin “Farmer” Burns, strongmen Louis Cyr and Eugen Sandow.)

Holmes was an expert singlestick player, boxer and swordsman. As a child in Yorkshire, he was informally schooled in Bataireacht (traditional Gaelic stick fencing) by an Irish geometry tutor named Moriarty.

Holmes seems to have been a natural at bare-knuckle fisticuffs. On the night of his retirement benefit, Walter McMurdo, “the Slaughter-House Kid”, went three rounds with the amateur pugilist. Four years later, McMurdo still distinctly remembered the power of younger man’s right cross. “Ah,” he said, “you’re one that has wasted your gifts, you have! You might have aimed high, if you had joined the Fancy.” This was not good-natured guff on McMurdo’s part, either. A single left-handed straight from Holmes was enough to lay-out Roaring Jack Woodley, a ruffian from Farnham, Surrey.

So here we have a man whose favoured means of self defense is striking and whose primary weapons are fists, an old Malacca walking-stick and a weighted riding-crop.

How did such a man gravitate toward Bartitsu?

The genesis of Holmes’ interest in martial arts came in April of 1887. During a brief respite in Reigate, Surrey, Holmes found himself attacked by the Cunninghams, a murderous father and son, who ungallantly rushed him as a team. Holmes, seeing young Alec Cunningham closing quickly, attempted to keep his opponent at a distance by firing a jab. To Holmes great surprise, the son charged in recklessly and “ate the blow” to create an opening for his father. Both of these Reigate gentlemen had dabbled in boxing; and both had wrestled extensively in college. Squire Alec knew that a jab has little power behind it and simply bulled through for a rough takedown.

Holmes survived the attack – mainly due to the intervention of others – but he did not forget the lesson. He required a system of fighting which would allow him to defeat multiple opponents. And, although a master at striking, he needed to focus more on grappling and evasion.

For reasons known only to himself, Holmes chose to concentrate on Asian martial arts in this regard. It was perhaps a symptom of the times. The Orient held a certain fascination for Victorian Bohemia. The Mikado was a recent smash hit. Madam Blavatsky was raving about magical Himalayan priests. The Japanese Exhibition had recently drawn record crowds in Knightsbridge.

In a letter to Victor Trevor, an old college friend, written in June of that year, Sherlock Holmes wrote:

I owe a significant debt to that imbecile Athelney Jones. His brother-in-law spent nearly sixteen years as a missionary in (Guangdong Province). The Reverend Grubbe acquired a smattering of (Wing Chun) Kung Fu in that time and Jones has convinced him to teach me all he knows of it.

As a fighting style, (Wing Chun) reminds me a bit of bareknuckles and savate, but with a wrestler’s stance and limited footwork. The entire body moves forward foursquare, elbows bent and arms rarely extended in full, to fire vertical punches utilizing the heel or edge of the palm. The knuckles are reserved for pummeling softer, less bony areas. The focus of (Wing Chun) is on balance and stance, with economy of movement along a center line. There is a series of ingenious blocks and counter-strikes. When my comprehension of it becomes adequate, I will tell you later about the remarkable practice of ‘trapping hands’.

(Trevor-Pitt, 1969/113/-07)

His diary entry for Wednesday, 10 August 1887 states:

I have recently acquired a small Cantonese monograph on a system of Chinese Boxing called Choy Li Fut. It turned up a fortnight ago at a dollyshop near Wapping Old Stairs. Phineas the pawnbroker, knowing my tastes and anticipating my pleasure, ran it round immediately. Pratchett at the British Museum is helping me with the translation. So far it seems just the thing for dispatching multiple opponents.

(Pike, 1954/053/-02)

The first mention of Jujutsu comes from a letter to Mycroft Holmes, dated Tuesday, 10 January 1888.

I have heard much recently of a clandestine style of Japanese wrestling called Kumiuchi or Jiu-Jitsu. It is – by all accounts – a sophisticated and scientific method of grappling derived from a close study of anatomy and physiology. It employs leverage and balance to an impressive degree and implements a series of hooks and body throws similar in technique to that of the robust Lancastrian catch wrestlers of recent popular acclaim. I have been informed that a practitioner of this Nipponese art can manipulate and distort the joints of the body – not merely limbs, but also neck and shoulders – to the maximal range of motion, and in a direction inimical to their alignment. The slightest application of pressure is thereafter able to subdue even the most powerful of foes.

I am, as you well know, a pugilist by nature. I am most comfortable standing upright and using my fists. My brief studies of (Wing Chun) and Choy Li Fut have afforded a slight level of ease with elbows, knees and feet. I recognize that this is not enough.

I have no wish to ever find myself prostrate on the ground during an assault, however I must of necessity entertain the possibility that I may – through whatever agency – end up once again in that position. I must, therefore, develop a comprehensive understanding of grappling and wrestling so that I might know what to do once I am there. I feel that this Kumiuchi might provide me with that skill and discernment.

It is a most singular and perplexing task which I now undertake, as stimulating and unusual as any which I have faced in my professional career. I will seek an introduction to a competent samurai and compel him through whatever means I can to teach me his art. The natural obstinacy of the Japanese will hinder me, no doubt; and their understandable distrust of both the Law and the Gaijin might just contain me altogether.

(Russell, 1948/038/-15)

Holmes was neither hindered nor constrained for very long. He discovered his first ‘samurai’ (or rather, jujutsuka) in a certain Mr. Sato, a fruiterer & seed dealer from Limehouse. Sato, a practitioner of Sekiguchi-ryû, had been expelled from Japan shortly before the Satsuma Rebellion. He had several family members in Wapping who straddled the borderlines of the law, and it is believed that Sato’s arrangement with Holmes allowed them a bit of leeway where the Met was concerned.

Holmes devoted nearly two years to the study of Sekiguchi-ryû Jujitsu. His apprenticeship was intense and exhausting, but also sporadic: necessarily interrupted by casework.

In September of 1889, Holmes made the acquaintance of Dr. Kano Jigoro, a former economics professor who was in London studying European teaching methods for the Japanese Ministry of Education. At 28, Kano was already a legend in Budô circles. A long-time student of Tenjin Shin’yô-ryû, Kano had ultimately devised his own martial art by combining elements from the five major Jujutsu schools. The resulting system – Judo – proved remarkably effective.

Holmes had heard stories of Kano’s invincibility from Sato sensei and decided to make the Judoka’s acquaintance. They arranged an introduction at Simpson’s-in-the-Strand. Holmes recorded the event in his journal.

The man who rose to greet me was young, some eight-and-twenty years at the outside, well groomed and trimly clad, with extraordinary refinement and economy in his bearing. He was rather short in stature with a thick head of black hair and a prominent mustache.

He bore few physical signs of the professional wrestler or pugilist – no fractured nose, cauliflower ear, facial asymmetry or enlarged knuckles – but his wrists were exceedingly thick and the muscles of the triceps surae were so enlarged as to distort the calf of his trousers.

The young Jigoro Kano.

His suit and bowler were both new. The suit was of an English cut – Gieves & Hawkes of Savile Row, unless I am much mistaken. The elbows were not in the least frayed and the trouser knees un-worn. The bowler, when removed (using the right hand), revealed a small mark on the inner band which reads “Gustave de Rubempre, Milliner, 27 rue de la Tour, Marseilles.” His brogues looked to be French as well. In any event, they were neither scuffed nor dented; the leather almost pristine.

When we shook hands, I sensed a vague odor of Savon de Marseille. Grip surprisingly firm and strong. His nails were short and neat with no signs of discoloration, pitting or deformity.

I then remarked ‘You have recently been in Marseille, I perceive.’ He was suitably astonished.

(Pike, 1954/053/-)

Holmes himself was surprised to discover that the Japanese gentleman was completely fluent in English.

We discussed the philosophy behind his practices. He said: “The linguistic root of both Ju-jitsu and Ju-do is ‘Ju’, which means ‘gentleness’ or ‘pliancy’. I know that some people confuse gentleness and weakness. One should never do this. A gentle man is supple and flexible in both mind and body. A hard man, on the other hand, is stiff, unweildy and unbending. ‘Ju’, therefore, is the rapier rather than a broadsword.

Let us say that I am challenged by a man who weighs eighteen stone. Now I am not a large man, being but some nine stone. If he pushes me with all of his strength, I am sure to stumble or fall down, even if I resist with all my might. This is opposing strength with strength. But if, instead of opposing him, I give way to the extent he has pushed, withdrawing my body and maintaining my balance, my opponent will lose his balance. Weakened by his awkward position, he will be unable to use all his strength. Because I retain my balance, my strength remains intact. Now I am stronger than my antagonist and can defeat him by using only half my strength, keeping the other half available for some other purpose. Even if you are stronger than your opponent, it is better first to give way. By doing so you conserve energy while exhausting your adversary.”

I understood immediately, of course: in Ju-do one gains strength by utilizing an adversary’s aggression and redirecting it accordingly. This reminded me of the words of Ecclesiastes, and so I quoted that bit of scripture to him: ‘Violence does, in truth, recoil upon the violent, and the schemer falls into the pit which he digs for another.’

‘You have moralized a course of action,’ he said, ‘but the principle is correct.’”

(Ibid.)

The two men made a powerful impression on each other. As Holmes would later say, “mediocrity knows nothing higher than itself; but talent instantly recognizes genius.”

There is reason to believe that Holmes began an informal study of Judo under the tutelage of Professor Kano. Over the course of the next five months – between September 1889, when the two first met, to January of 1891, when Kano returned to Japan – Holmes only undertook three cases. (These would be The Wisteria Lodge, The Adventure of the Silver Blaze and The Adventure of the Beryl Coronet.) None of these cases occupied him for more than five days.

Four months later, on 4 May 1891, Sherlock Holmes faced Professor James Moriarty, the godfather of London’s underworld, on a narrow ledge above the Reichenbach Falls in Meiringen, Bern, Switzerland.

In The Adventure of the Empty House, Dr.John Watson quotes his friend’s description of that violent encounter.

I had little doubt that I had come to the end of my career when I perceived the somewhat sinister figure of the late Professor Moriarty standing upon the narrow pathway which led to safety. I read an inexorable purpose in his grey eyes. I exchanged some remarks with him, therefore, and obtained his courteous permission to write the short note which you afterwards received. I left it with my cigarette-box and my stick and I walked along the pathway, Moriarty still at my heels. When I reached the end I stood at bay. He drew no weapon, but he rushed at me and threw his long arms around me. He knew that his own game was up, and was only anxious to revenge himself upon me. We tottered together upon the brink of the fall. I have some knowledge, however, of … the Japanese system of wrestling, which has more than once been very useful to me. I slipped through his grip, and he with a horrible scream kicked madly for a few seconds and clawed the air with both his hands. But for all his efforts he could not get his balance, and over he went. With my face over the brink I saw him fall for a long way. Then he struck a rock, bounded off, and splashed into the water.

An artist’s impression of Holmes’ battle with Moriarty.

And then Holmes himself disappeared for a little over three years.

Onward to Part Two.

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“Sherlock Holmes and Bartitsu” (Part Two)

Posted on December 11, 2020 by BartitsuSociety
  • Originally published on the Bartitsu.org site on Saturday, 28th August 2010

The second chapter of Michael Bertram Wooster’s extraordinary memoir details the collaboration between consulting detective Sherlock Holmes and Bartitsu founder E.W. Barton-Wright, including samples of their detailed technical correspondence.

(Holmes) would later claim that he had traveled incognito to Lhassa, Mecca, war-torn Khartoum and Montpellier, France. These seem formidable objectives for a British tourist wishing to avoid scrutiny. On the other hand, Mycroft allegedly hinted to my grandfather that Sherlock attended the Kodokan Institute in the early 1890s. Perhaps the encounter with Moriarty convinced him that he needed a thorough grounding in Judo. It should be noted that, among Holmes’ many correspondents of that decade, two – Captain H. M. Hughes and E. J. Harrison – were European Kodokan graduates.

In any event, it was Kano who, in 1896, introduced Holmes to yet another British Jujutsuka.

E.W. Barton-Wright, 1899

E.W. Barton-Wright, 1899

Edward William Barton-Wright was a civil engineer for E. H. Hunter & Company, living in Kobe. A world-traveler and life-long student of the martial disciplines, Barton-Wright had been evolving his own eclectic fighting style for many years.

“I have always been interested in the arts of self defense,” he told Gunji Koizumi in 1950, “and I learned various methods including boxing, wrestling, fencing, savate and the use of stiletto under recognized masters, and by engaging toughs. I trained myself until I was satisfied in their practical application.”

Barton-Wright might have had occasion to observe or study Tenjin Shin’yô-ryû while in Yokohama. In Kobe, the persistent engineer convinced a local sensei named Terajima Kuniichiro to train him in Shinden Fudo Ryu. He also somehow found time to participate in Kyushu Ryu demonstrations with Shihan Yoshinori Eguchi of Kumamoto Prefecture. This last lead to a brief acquaintance with Kano Jigoro (a close associate of Eguchi Shihan) who, in turn, passed him along to yet another friend.

In June of 1896, Kano penned a short letter to Sherlock Holmes, in which he encouraged the two Englishmen to exchange letters.

“I do not know (Barton-Wright) well,” he wrote, “but I sense talent and an inquisitive mind. Between the two of you perhaps one might say there is a similarity of intent.” (Kano, 1983/198/03)

Sherlock Holmes and Edward Barton-Wright subsequently carried on a correspondence which lasted for seven years. Only twelve letters survive today; all but three of them are to found in the archives of the Vernet Foundation at 28 Rue Juve in Paris. The rest are in the hands of a private collector whose name I have promised not to reveal. Everything thing else has been lost. These papers were originally housed in a safety-deposit box at Cox and Co., Charing Cross, which was damaged quite badly during the London blitz.

Surprisingly little of their conversation involved the fighting arts. For the most part these letters form a near compendium of Victorian naturopathy. The two men discussed, at length; acupuncture, vibra-massage, phrenology, mesmerism, cataphoresis, Pythagorean diet, and the relative merits of fasting. At times the tone of eccentric brilliance becomes almost comical. In one letter, Barton-Wright lovingly describes the mechanisms of a Toepler-Holtz 20-plate electro-static inducer. In another, Holmes repeatedly advocates the consumption of royal jelly.

The first mention of Bartitsu comes from a diary entry, dated September 1896, in which Holmes writes:

BW has for some time envisioned a new system of self-defense which would combine his favorite techniques from Asian and European combat arts into a coherent whole. His style is devised for the purpose of rendering any normal person capable of protecting themselves from to any method of attack that might arise.

It is his fancy to call it Bartitsu, derived obviously from ju-jitsu and his own surname.

The system, as he envisions it, breaks down into three parts (which ideally will flow together seamlessly in practice.)

I) The Art of Defending Oneself with a Weapon

Bartitsu will provide weapons training of a sort. BW primarily wishes to teach the different methods of defending oneself with a walking-stick or umbrella (nearly ubiquitous items in modern society). He appreciates the way a stick extends the range of ones defenses. I am not yet certain which method (or combination thereof) he will focus upon – be it singlestick, Bâton français, Canne d’Arme, scherma di bastone, faction fighting or the like – but it will no doubt play a profound role in his school. BW has stated his intention of writing to the French maitre d’armes Mons. Vigny, who evidently has some strong ideas in this regard.

Fencing will be taught, of course, as it emphasizes timing and cadence; as well as speed, economy, precision and footwork.

II) The Art of Striking with the Limbs

This will encompass boxing and the use of lower limbs in an offensive and defensive manner. The student will learn balance and movement, how to determine and maintain adequate distance from an opponent, and the importance of efficient footwork. BW will teach the basic boxing punches, as well as practical kicks (most of them either drawn directly or modified from savate and ashi-ate-waza, with the notable exception of the Cumbrian stomp.)

The student will also learn to defend himself by Evading the Blow (slipping, bobbing and Tenkan pivoting) and Guarding or Checking the Blow (blocking and parrying).

As I understand it, Bartitsu will teach Striking primarily as a defensive means of allowing the student to gain close-quarters in regards to his assailant, at which time the focus will turn to

III) The Art of Grappling

The student will learn to overcome his opponent through use of throws, holds, pins, foot-sweeps, traps, locks and chokes.

This system sounds viable in theory; I am sure that the fine points will be worked out on the mat.

BW plans to form a sporting club in London which will disseminate this system among a select and suitable membership. As BW pictures it, this will serve as both a gymnasium and a school-of-arms, offering a variety of classes in different antagonistic systems, each of which will be taught by a master of the chosen art. BW quite rightly considers himself qualified to conduct classes in several of these. In addition, he has approached Professor Kano, sensei Yataoru Handa of Osaka, and some others in Japan about possibly finding talented young Ju-do or Ju-jitsu teachers willing to train Englishmen. BW will bring these champions to London at his own expense (or rather, they shall earn their keep through tournament prizes and private wagers which gamble upon their skill.)

BW intends to scour Europe for specialized instructors in other forms of sport and combative arts as well – not limited to boxers, wrestlers, swordsmen and stick fighters, perhaps even a professeur of la boxe Francaise. (Although – typical Englishman – he avers that ‘French Foot Fighting’ is utterly useless.)

While he has no doubt that many will wish to watch and learn Jujutsu from Japanese experts, BW will also encourage the Jujutsuka to study classical boxing, wrestling and savate so that they might recognize the likely attack scenarios of an English opponent. There will be an emphasis on randori (competition). Each master will engage and spar with the others, each learning the system of the other so as to adapt and improve their own.

(Pike, 1954/053/03)

When Barton-Wright arrived in London in late 1898, he sought to put these plans into action. He dined several times with Sherlock Holmes at the Cafe Royal, discussing his goals and intentions for Bartitsu. Holmes proved to be an enthusiastic and creative co-conspirator; offering much helpful advice and, at times, proffering subtle critiques of both his friend’s aspirations and late-Victorian society.

4 November 1898

A New Art of Self Defense for the Average Man is a most felicitous phrase and I have no doubt that Bartitsu, presented to the general public under that rubric, will win popular acclaim and prove most successful. It occurs to me, however, that most of the subscribers to your system will find little practical use for it. The average West End gentleman will never, throughout the course of his long life, encounter a true threat of physical violence. There is a great fixed gulf which lies between the refined classes and the bludgers, hooligans and nobblers who haunt their fears. The latter tend to stay within their own neighborhoods, east of the City and north of the Thames.

(Vernet Collection: Holmes, 1988/217/01)

Despite such raillery, Holmes seemed genuinely excited by the idea of Bartitsu; the union of East and West, the democratic testing of techniques, the scientific perfection of brawling. He spent several months introducing his new friend to wealthy and socially prominent ‘physical culture enthusiasts’, many of whom had previously consulted him as clients. These included Herbert Gladstone, Captain Alfred Hutton, Lord Alwyne Compton, Lord Arthur Cecil, Lord Emsworth, Baron Chuffnell and Lord Robert St. Simon. When Bartitsu Limited was incorporated on 26th November, the board of directors included Compton, Cecil and Hutton.

Barton-Wright was elated, and he happily reported each public relations coup.

January 1899

I have agreed to write a series of articles for Pearson’s Magazine, which will explain the concept of Bartitsu and offer, with the assistance of either photographs or line-drawings, several of the three-hundred methods of attack and counter-attack that comprise it. While it will not be possible through such an abbreviated medium to do complete justice to the subject, I am hoping that the scope of these feats will allow the reader to intuit that Bartitsu offers a practical way of meeting every conceivable contingency. As you yourself have so often said, “There is no combination of events for which the wit of man cannot conceive a response.”

For example:

A Way of Defending yourself, when a Man Strikes at your Face with his Right Fist

This is a most useful feat and I am certain that many will wish to learn it. Naturally there are numerous ways to meet this threat. The method I have chosen here is rather terrible in effect and some objection may be taken to apparent brutality of it. When considering the advantages of Bartitsu, it must be remembered that there are times when no method is too severe to be adopted in order to protect oneself. We are not, after all, teaching a sport, but rather a method of defense. One cannot always expect an opponent to conduct himself in the recognised style of English fair play and in such cases one must use whatever means lay at hand to overthrow an assailant without any risk of harm to oneself.

We assume that your assailant strikes at you with his right fist. You must guard yourself by raising your left arm quickly and receiving the blow on the radius of your forearm. This must be done rather aggressively so that your block lands solidly at the base of his brachioradialis muscle, halfway down the assailant’s upper limb.

Strike your assailant’s right shoulder with the heel of your right palm. With the same hand, grab a firm hold of his coat-cloth and pull this shoulder downward.

Quickly raise your right knee up and drive it forcefully into your assailant’s côleî. This will immediately cause him to bend foreword, so as to protect that most sensitive area.

Continue pulling your assailant’s right shoulder down as you pass your left arm under the crook of his right arm. As you do this you should pivot clockwise on the ball of your left foot and placed your right foot to the side so that you are standing sideways in relation to your opponent. Place your left hand on top of your right hand. The assailant’s arm should now be resting on your left shoulder.

In this position you should have no difficulty in forcing him to his knees.

(This letter is accompanied by a line drawing showing an ushiro ude gatami style of shoulder lock.)

(Vernet Collection: Holmes, 1988/217/02)

When he had finished the article, Barton-Wright sent a copy for Holmes to peruse. The great detective sent a warm response, which ended with an odd admonition.

Never underestimate the efficacy of a knee to the thigh, my dear Barton-Wright. I was once able to subdue a skilled Whitechapel punisher of nearly 18 stone by clinching him tightly with a rear bear hug and repeatedly driving the point of my kneecap into his hamstrings.

(Vernet Collection: Holmes, 1988/217/04)

In February, Barton-Wright encountered a slight set-back.

I have been asked to omit a section of my Pearson’s article which demonstrates how to meet a knife attack and disarm the assailant. Messrs. Pearson and Everett thought it inadvisable that such great publicity should be given to these feats. While I understand the nature of their concern, I feel that these methods provide a simple and effective way to meet contingencies of that kind. I was attacked by men with knives on several occasions during a long residence in Portugal, and in every case I succeeded in disabling my adversary without being hurt myself, although I had not even a stick in my hand with which to defend myself.

To which Holmes responded:

This omission is no doubt for the best. Such tasks are difficult, dangerous and should not be entered lightly.

The last time I was required to defend myself against a dagger was in August of 1889. A certain Mr. (Joseph Harrison) possessed rather more viciousness that I gave him credit for. Upon discovery, he flew at me with his knife. Fortunately he was a novice with the sticker. His blade was a mere 3 inches in length; not nearly long enough to penetrate the heart through layers of fascia, chest muscles, and rib cage. I was able to evade his thrust, but had to grasp him twice, and got a cut over the knuckles, before I had the upper hand of him. I gave him a rather sharp kick to the shin and then another to the arbor vitae. By this time I was able to gain control of his elbow and could disarm him with a blow to the carotid artery. He looked murder out of the only eye he could see with when we had finished.

(Vernet Collection: Holmes, 1988/217/05)

Otherwise, things were going well.

The Bartitsu Academy of Arms and Physical Culture was established at 67a Shaftesbury Avenue in Soho. Pierre Vigny agreed to give instruction on his revolutionary method of stick fighting. Four talented young Jujitsu teachers soon arrived from Japan: S. Yamamoto, Sadakazu Uyenishi and the Tani Brothers. Barton-Wright began advertising his system at different venues with a series of lectures, demonstrations and challenges. Holmes attended several and was amused by his friend’s promotional sense.

On 22 August 1901, the Bartitsu Club was preparing for a public lecture and exhibition at the Tivoli Theatre. They invited the press and a few comrades to a private rehearsal. Holmes was among them.

The next morning he wrote Barton-Wright a congratulatory note. At one point, he mildly took his friend to task for certain comments about European wrestling which could have been interpreted as sardonic or condescending. Barton-Wright wrote a short reply which denied the allegation, while at the same time also seemed to confirm it.

I have no bias against the Greco-Romans, as you seem to believe. I merely feel a certainty, born of experience, that there are more elegant and effective styles of wrestling in the world. To my knowledge none of the great European wrestlers has ever prevailed against a champion of Ju-do or Ju-jitsu, and in fact most refuse to even run that risk for fear of having their necks broken. My mind, as ever, remains open. I am perfectly willing to study anything which can add to my store of practical knowledge. I am fully prepared to learn a new style of western wrestling should I encounter a wrestler who can convince me that his power resides in reproducible technique and not to an aberration of personal size or brute strength.

(Sheridan, 1947/042/03)

It is interesting to note that, within a month’s time, Vigny was dispatched to Sainte-Croix, Switzerland, to recruit a young all-in wrestling phenom named Armand Cherpillod.

The only known photograph of E.W. Barton-Wright (left) and Sherlock Holmes (circa 1900).

Holmes was a frequent visitor to the Shaftesbury Avenue Club. He greatly enjoyed watching the bouts and attending lessons in various fighting styles. He regularly made use of the club’s gymnasium.

A notebook from that period also give us some insight into his exercise program. Sherlock Holmes sought to train his entire body during each workout session and his exercises were designed for both strength and endurance. His typical workout featured sprints, stretches, bends, push-ups, jumping jacks, handstands, fast high knee raises, sandbag lifting and skipping-rope. He would wind a length of thick nautical rope around a chin-bar so that the ends hung down; his pull-ups were done while gripping this rope. Sometimes he would hold tennis balls in his hands while doing the pull-ups. Depending on his mood, he would incorporate various pieces of gym equipment into his routine. Holmes was equally adept with the barbell, the dumbell, wand pulley, Indian club, medicine ball, crusher, kettlebell and swingbell.

This workout routine becomes even more remarkable when one considers that Sherlock Holmes was, at this time, a forty-eight year old man.

After a long workout Holmes would sometimes avail himself of the Club’s sun lamps and radiant heat baths. More often, he would stop into Nevill’s Turkish Baths on his way home.

On Tuesdays and Thursdays Holmes would focus on his punching, kicking and footwork drills. (These sessions often ended with sparring or “back and forth” with a partner.) Holmes very much enjoyed sparring. He tested himself against anyone who he thought might offer him a challenge.

One of the instructors in particular intrigued him.

From Holmes to Barton-Wright, dated 16 August 1901:

I’m a bit of a single-stick expert, as you know, and have been fencing since my first year at Oxford. Thus, I am most fascinated by Monsieur Vigny’s use of the cane. The guards were not what I expected, but I now find them to be rather inspired.

And again, from 9 April 1902:

Vigny and I were able to engage in a short assault this evening. In the end, the Frenchman was too much for me, but I would like to think that I gave as well as I received. As we saluted he congratulated me on my competence with the stick and on my tolerance for blows.

I encountered him again upon leaving. He eyed my walking stick approvingly and said, “Ah, a silver-mounted malacca cane. Very fine. I have one myself.”

We had a short cordial conversation and shook hands. “I understand that you once rendered a service for Monsieur Charles Charlemont, the (savate) champion,” he said, (no doubt referring to that dreadful business of the Azure Window). “I have long wished to meet him. If you should see him again soon, please tell him that I am at his disposal, for any stake he should want. Queensberry rules, of course.”

He walked away without another word.

At this point, the conversation between E.W. Barton-Wright and Sherlock Holmes comes to a full stop.

Continue to Part Three.

Posted in Antagonistics, Bartitsu School of Arms, Canonical Bartitsu, E. W. Barton-Wright, Fiction, Jiujitsu, Physical Culture, Sherlock Holmes, Vigny stick fighting | Comments Off on “Sherlock Holmes and Bartitsu” (Part Two)

“Sherlock Holmes and Bartitsu” (Part Three)

Posted on December 11, 2020 by BartitsuSociety
  • Originally published on the Bartitsu.org site on Saturday, 28th August 2010

The third and final installment of Michael Bertram Wooster’s report concerns the fall of the Bartitsu Club and solves the riddle of Holmes’ “baritsu”.

In 1902, the founder of Bartitsu broke with one of his most important instructors. Barton-Wright’s relationship with Yukio Tani, difficult even in the best of times, came to an abrupt end. As the Englishman later told Gunji Koizumi:

“… Tani was troublesome in keeping appointments. I proposed to make deductions from his wages. One day he was in a furious temper over it and threatened me with violence. In the conflict which followed, Bartitsu proved superior to his Ju-Jitsu. That was the end of our connection.”

Yukio Tani (right) circa 1903.

This split came at a bad time. The club was struggling. Enrollment fees and tuitions were considered to be too high by some, and the affluent classes of London were not lining up to apply. When the end finally came, the instructors scattered to the winds. Cherpillod, his already formidible skills enhanced with knowledge of Jujutsu, returned to Switzerland. Pierre Vigny left Shaftesbury Avenue to establish his own self-defense academy on Berner Street. The Jujutsuka also stayed in London, ultimately laying the foundation for a “European Jujutsu Boom”.

At any rate, Barton-Wright’s attention was focusing more and more on physical therapy. He continued to adapt and teach Bartitsu, but not with the same zeal or conviction. He began to bill himself as an Electro-Medical Specialist; and his collection of foot baths, ultraviolet lamps and thermophores continued to grow. By 1906, Shaftesbury Avenue was no longer advertised as a school of arms; it was the ‘Bartitsu Light Cure Institute Limited’.

In 1903, Sherlock Holmes retired to his bee farm in the Sussex Downs. His letters to Barton-Wright ended abruptly. Holmes’ interests from that point on seem to have shifted to chemistry, bee keeping and the compilation of his twin chef-d’oeuvres, “The Modern Forensic Sciences” and “The Complete Art of Deduction”.

And so ends Sherlock Holmes’ association with Jujitsu, Judo and Bartitsu.

Except for one private conversation in 1922.

As I have already told you, my grandfather was ‘The Old Man’, Sir Henry St. John Merrivale, 9th Baronet. He was a fascinating old beggar: a barrister, a Bachelor of Medicine, amateur prestidigitator, failed music hall comic, occult investigator, detective, anarchist and spy-master.

He was also a long-time member of the Diogenes Club and a good friend to Mr. Mycroft Holmes. It was through Mycroft, in 1905, that my grandfather was first introduced Sherlock Holmes, in the Stranger’s Room of the Diogenes.

An extremely rare photograph of the interior of the Diogenes Club (circa 1920).

They met several times thereafter, but the incident which now concerns us took place in December of 1922 at the Salmon & Gluckstein Tobacconist shop on Oxford Street.

Sir Henry had just popped in to buy a fistful of Dunhill panatelas when he noticed the elderly Sherlock Holmes standing between some tobacco bins. The Great Detective was making one of his rare visits to London. He had fled the coastal gales of East Sussex to spend Christmas with Mycroft in Pall Mall.

“I am afraid,” said Holmes, “that I have resumed that course of nicotine-poisoning which my good friend, Doctor John Watson, has so often and so justly condemned.”

My grandfather, as was his nature, demurred.

“A little vice never harmed a healthy man. You are far too vigorous as it is. Moderation is the key. Smoke a large pipeful and then go clear the lungs with a series of Baritsu kicks and rolls.”

“Bartitsu,” corrected Holmes.

“And yet your faithful friend and biographer, Doctor Watson, spelled it Baritsu in The Adventure of the Empty House.”

Holmes casually waved a hand in the air, as though brushing away a fly.

Sherlock Holmes' associate, Dr. John Watson.

“Watson is a literary man”, he told my grandfather, ” and as such has little regard for the literal truth of his accounts. I have often had occasion to point out to him how superficial these are and to accuse him of pandering to popular taste instead of confining himself rigidly to facts and figures. Yet in this case I cannot judge him too harshly. Watson, knowing of my friendship with Mr. Barton-Wright and my membership in the Shaftesbury Avenue club, naturally assumed that I had utilized some sort of Bartitsu toss. Obviously, this was incorrect. Bartitsu did not exist in May of 1891, when my fatal encounter with Moriarty took place. Barton-Wright himself did not even begin to study Ju-jitsu until 1894; and his system of self-defense was not incorporated until 1898. It was my knowledge of Judo which proved so useful to me on the precipice of Reichenbachfall. Moriarty grabbed me in a front bearhug and I instinctively responded with an O Goshi hip throw.”

“But in all this time you saw no reason elucidate the mistake or to change the story so that Mr. Kano got the credit due to him for your survival?”

“Pshaw,” said Holmes. “The story itself was not harmed by such a minor error and, in fact, was probably ennobled by it. Everybody knows Kano’s name now. He values my friendship, but has little use for my kudos. On the other hand, Edward Barton-Wright’s reputation is in decline. This is most unfortunate. Bartitsu, as far as I am concerned, is the most effective street-fighting system I have yet encountered. Had I possessed such skills at that time, I would most likely have used them. Perhaps that one little word in Watson’s story of will yet spark a renewal of interest in his art.”

My grandfather persisted.

“But what of the spelling? Why Baritsu and not Bartitsu?”

Holmes laughed and lit his pipe.

“Bartitsu became Baritsu due to the bowdlerization of a printer, who suspected that this unusual word contained a double entendre involving mammaries. He solved the problem by dropping the initial t.”

I hope that solves more questions than it raises.

Michael Bertram Wooster

****

I am indebted to the Vernet Foundation, from which I drew the following material.

Russell, 1948/038/- Private letters and diaries
(Donor: M. Russell)

Kano, 1983/198/-
A collection of corresponance between Sherlock Holmes and Kano Jigoro. (Donor: D. Risei Kano)

Pike, 1954/053/-
Photocopies of 3 handwritten and unpublished diaries which cover 1887, 1891 and 1897. (Donor: Langdale Pike)

Trevor-Pitt, 1968/113/-
An archive of papers relating to Victor Trevor, including the typed transcript of a letter (dated June 1887) from William Sherlock Scott Holmes. (Donor: Amelia Trevor-Pitt)

Holmes, 1988/217/-
A collection of correspondence between William Sherlock Scott Holmes of London to Mr E. Wm. Barton-Wright in Kobe, Japan. (Donor: Mycroft Holmes)

Sheridan, 1947/042/-
(date 20 October 1900) from Edward Barton-Wright to Sherlock Holmes. (Donor: Audrey Ann Blake Sheridan)

An interview with Barton-Wright conducted by Gunji Koizumi. (Koizumi, G: “Facts and History”, Budokwai Bulletin, July 1950.)

The works of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle: A Study in Scarlet; The Sign of the Four;The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes; The Memoirs of Sherlock Holmes; The Hound of the Baskervilles; The Valley of Fear; The Return of Sherlock Holmes; His Last Bow; The Case-Book of Sherlock Holmes.

Posted in Baritsu, Bartitsu School of Arms, E. W. Barton-Wright, Fiction, Sherlock Holmes | Comments Off on “Sherlock Holmes and Bartitsu” (Part Three)

“Sparring with Sherlock”

Posted on December 11, 2020 by BartitsuSociety
  • Originally published on the Bartitsu.org site on Tuesday, 6th September 2011

Dutch journalist Erik Noomen wrote this article for the Volkskrant, one of Holland’s largest daily newspapers. It was originally printed on August 30, 2011 and is used here by permission.

Everyone thought that ‘baritsu’, the magical martial art of Sherlock Holmes, was a figment of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s imagination. Until, suddenly, yellowed articles showing moustachioed martial artists were found under a century of dust. Now the first ‘mixed martial art’ is the subject of international attention.

Fans of the Sherlock Holmes stories know that the Master Detective threw Professor Moriarty from a rocky precipice with his knowledge of “baritsu”. In the story The Adventure of the Empty House, baritsu is described as being a form of Japanese wrestling; the word appears nowhere else. Many readers thought, therefore, that the fighting style was invented by the author, Arthur Conan Doyle.

Just over ten years ago two English researchers proved the contrary, when they found hundred-year-old articles with sketches and photographs of jacketed Englishmen with straw boater hats and handlebar moustaches, fighting each other with bare fists, umbrellas and vicious whipping canes.

Doyle’s “baritsu” was actually called “Bartitsu” and was developed by Edward William Barton-Wright, an eccentric engineer who had learned various martial arts during his travels throughout and beyond the British Empire. Returning home to London after having lived for three years in Japan, he decided to combine his knowledge of Jiu-Jitsu with English boxing, wrestling and the Swiss/French la canne, in which the cane was used to hold malodorous Apaches (Parisian street thugs) at bay. The result was the world’s first mixed martial art combining Asian and European fighting styles. With no undue humility, in 1898 the Brit coined the term “Bartitsu”: a contraction of Barton-Wright and jiu-jitsu.

The new trend lasted only four years, then jiu-jitsu took the torch and Bartitsu disappeared rapidly into oblivion. However, that time is over. Since 2009, you may even speak of a modest craze, thanks to the Sherlock Holmes film, starring Robert Downey Jr., which managed to make a street fighter out of the cerebral Victorian sleuth, armed against the dregs of the London underworld with decisive punches and Barton-Wright’s stick tricks.

In 2006 there was only one school that frequently regularly offered Bartitsu lessons. In the year 2011, over twenty clubs and courses are devoted to the sport. At “Steampunk” conventions (where 19th-century machines and fashions are mixed with a modern sensibility), Bartitsu demonstrations are given in late-19th century clothing.

The Netherlands remains a little behind the trend: a total of six of our countrymen practice Bartitsu. And that includes instructor John Jozen of the Shizen Hontai martial arts association in Veldhoven, the only place in the Netherlands where, every week, Bartitsu-style self defence with a walking stick is practiced. Jozen: “Bartitsu is not very practical if someone is threatening you with a gun. You’d do just as well throwing a ball to distract him as waving a walking stick or throwing a coat over his head.”

At the basis of this Bartitsu revival is Tony Wolf, the “Cultural Fighting Styles Designer” who trained the orcs and elves to fight for the Lord of the Rings movies. In 2005 he started organising Bartitsu reconstructions, using self-made rattan canes with steel ball handles. The Holmes film and the stylish BBC-TV series last year, which sees Holmes solve his cases in modern London, have made Bartitsu cool again, says Wolf.

Both projects will have sequels later this year. As seen the trailer for the movie Sherlock Holmes: A Game of Shadows, the film will show lots of “Bartitsu-style” punch-ups.

The steady renaissance of Bartitsu during the 21st century stands in stark contrast to the explosive growth of the sport during the late 19th century. Shortly after his return to London, Barton-Wright presented self-defence demonstrations in men’s clubs and for charitable benefits, with great success. Jozen: “Between 1880 and 1920, carrying weapons such as swords in cities was forbidden, hence gentlemen switched en masse to sturdy walking sticks. Not only as fasionable accessories, but for fear of infamous street gangs such as the “Hooligans” in London and the “Apaches” of Montmartre, stories about whom filled the newspapers of the day.” An additional benefit of the cane as a weapon was that, as Barton-Wright said, it was possible to defeat scoundrels “without getting one’s hands dirty”.

In 1899 his company opened the London Bartitsu Club: “a huge underground hall with gleaming white tiles and electric light, with champions stalking around like tigers”, according to an excited journalist in 1901. Most members were soldiers, athletes, actors, politicians and aristocrats. The teachers that Barton-Wright had brought to London were also impressive. From Japan came the jiu-jitsu legend Yukio Tani and Sadakazu Uyenishi, from Switzerland, the heavyweight wrestler Armand Cherpillod and the famous master-at-arms Pierre Vigny, an expert in savate (French kickboxing) and inventor of the remarkable cane fighting.

Although Bartitsu was subtitled the “gentlemanly art of self defence”, not all its practitioners were real gentlemen. Among the soldiers, athletes, actors, politicians and aristocrats who joined Barton-Wright, for example, was Sir Cosmo Duff-Gordon. This Olympic fencer would later acquire infamy as one of the few male passengers to survive the sinking of the Titanic, allegedly because he had bribed sailors in his lifeboat not to rescue others in the water (E.N. – Duff-Gordon was later cleared of these charges after an extensive inquiry).

Women also practiced Bartitsu. Feminist Edith Garrud later started her own dojo, which was used as a refuge for the “suffragettes”, revolutionary fighters for women’s voting rights. It was also there that they trained “The Bodyguard”, a secret society of women that physically protected speakers at their meeting against attacks by conservative Londoners. Their jolly nickname: the “Jiu-jitsuffragettes”.

Training at the Bartitsu Club must have offered a spectacular sight. Articles of the period reveal how you can prevail if armed only with your umbrella, or even while riding a bicycle. Photographs show a prosperous lady in a long dress with a huge, flowery hat riding primly on a country lane. She is pursued by a villain, also riding a bike, whom she defeats by suddenly braking, causing him to crash to the ground. In the next picture you see her pedalling away and waving back with an affable smile.

In 2011, however, John Jozen parks his bike every Saturday just outside the dojo in Veldhoven. He limits his Bartitsu training to walking sticks or umbrellas. “Although I must admit my wife is not happy that I have now beaten four or five umbrellas to shreds. Therefore I now buy old canes in charity shops, and sometimes even bamboo canes from the hardware store. These don’t cost so much.”

Barton-Wright was not so frugal. Three years after its establishment, he had to close the Bartitsu Club. Arguments with his famous jiu-jitsu teacher and the small number of Londoners willing or able to pay the extensive fees, made him decide in 1902 to seek his fortune in electric health equipment. This, too, was a mixed success. The ultraviolet lamps and heat rays which he imported were perhaps beneficial, but other inventions such as the Nagelschmidt Apparatus (an electric chair intended to stimulate muscle growth and reduce fat) sometimes made rheumatic patients go from bad to worse.

Barton-Wright died in 1951, almost penniless and forgotten, and was buried in an anonymous “pauper’s grave”.

Today, the sport of mixed martial arts is a billion-dollar industry. Fights promoted by the Ultimate Fighting Championship are watched by tens of millions of fans via pay-per-view and MMA fighters like Anderson Silva, Georges St. Pierre and Matt Hughes earn big money every year.

One would hope that modern fighters would respect the legacy of eclectic martial arts training from yesteryear, but this is not always the case. When John Jozen shows them historic photos of fighters in the Bartitsu Club, their responses are often rather condescending. Jozen: “They ask if you can tell what degree the Bartitsu fighter has gained by the size of his moustache, or whether he wears suspenders.” He must laugh himself. Jozen quickly stresses quickly that he and his students usually practice in modern sportswear, not quaint 1900s-style leotards.

Posted in Bartitsu School of Arms, E. W. Barton-Wright, Suffrajitsu | Comments Off on “Sparring with Sherlock”

“A Medium-Sized Malacca Cane, Mounted with a Thick Metal Ball”

Posted on December 11, 2020 by BartitsuSociety
  • Originally published on the Bartitsu.org site on June 3rd, 2017
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Vigny poses with one of his specially designed self-defence canes.

E. W. Barton-Wright’s “Self-Defence With A Walking Stick” articles for Pearson’s Magazine (1901) offer the most detailed impression of the Vigny cane fighting system during the height of the brief Bartitsu Club era.

A basic premise of these articles was to illustrate different self-defence tactics depending on the weapons wielded by the defender and by the aggressor, among other differentials such as physique and available fighting space.  For example, different tactics were advised for when the defender held “a Stick which is too Heavy to Manipulate Quickly with One Hand, when Attacked by a Man Armed with a Light Stick”, as compared to what to do when wielding a “Small Switch in your Hand, and are Threatened by a Man with a Very Strong Stick”.

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Vigny (left) assumes a double-handed guard opposed to Barton-Wright’s high front guard.

Although Vigny’s system was versatile enough to provide protection with light canes, crook-handled canes and umbrellas, it was optimized for the specific type of cane that Vigny himself developed. In The Walking Stick as a Means of Self-Defense (Health and Strength, July 1903), Vigny wrote:

(…) therefore the cane is the most perfect weapon for self-defence; but in order to make it so, it must possess the necessary qualities, which, expressed in one word, is solidity.

It is for this reason that I have had a cane specially made under my directions which embraces all the necessary qualities. It is a medium-sized Malacca cane, mounted with a thick metal ball, and so firmly riveted to the cane that it cannot come off however roughly it may be used. The metal ball handle is of such a thickness that it will not get dented; but in spite of this the cane is a most handsome and elegant one, and has been so much appreciated since it has been brought out that many people may be seen carrying them.

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The centre of balance of a typical Vigny-style fighting cane.

Thus, the Vigny cane is characterised by an asymmetrical balance due to the tapering malacca (rattan) shaft and especially by the addition of a metal ball at the thicker end.  In practice, this means that the cane handles differently from an evenly-weighted stick weapon; the heavy end swings and strikes more like a mace than like an ordinary stick.

Single-handedly swinging a 36″ long stick with a weight at the far end generates significant momentum, and the management of that momentum has a significant impact on the techniques and tactics of Bartitsu stick fighting.  This is apparent even when the metal ball is simulated by a solid rubber ball handle for relatively safe sparring purposes; hence, the Vigny style’s characteristic emphasis on ambidexterity and variety of tactical guards, as shown in Barton-Wright’s articles and in this sparring video:

Posted in Canonical Bartitsu, Vigny stick fighting | Comments Off on “A Medium-Sized Malacca Cane, Mounted with a Thick Metal Ball”

“Les Secrets du Jiu-Jitsu” (1906) Online

Posted on December 11, 2020 by BartitsuSociety
  • Originally published on the Bartitsu.org site on Sunday, 14th January 2018

A scan of Ernest Regnier’s instruction manual Les Secrets du Jiu-Jitsu (1906) is now available online via this link.

Regnier was a talented but down-on-his-luck Parisian wrestler until he was sponsored by physical culture entrepreneur Edmond Desbonnet to travel to London and train at the Japanese School of Jujitsu.  Regnier’s athletic prowess and antagonistic skills allowed him to learn quickly, and it certainly didn’t hurt that his teachers included former Bartitsu Club instructor Yukio Tani and his colleague, Taro Miyake.

Returning to Paris, Regnier adopted the vaguely Japanese pseudonym “Professor Re-Nie”.  On October 23 of 1905, he decisively defeated savateur George Dubois in a much-hyped style-vs.-style challenge contest, sparking an intense but short-lived craze for jiujitsu in the French capital.  He then established a salon de jiu-jitsu in Desbonnet’s exceptionally well-appointed gymnasium.  Regnier also had the distinction of training senior Parisian policemen in Japanese unarmed combat, but his jiujitsu career was effectively ended in December of 1908, when he ill-advisedly took on the giant Graeco-Roman wrestler Ivan Podubbny.

Les Secrets du Jiu-Jitsu was co-authored/ghost written by a writer named Guy de Montgrilhard, leading to some confusion in later generations as to “Professor Re-Nie’s” real name.  Although it is, in fact, a fairly simple compendium of some basic throws and locks, the fact that Regnier studied at the Japanese School of Jujitsu places the book squarely within the “Bartitsu lineage” and it serves as a useful supplement to the works of William Garrud, Percy Longhurst and other second-generation instructors.

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