Originally published on the Bartitsu.org site on Thursday, 10th January 2019
In early 1904, former Bartitsu Club instructor Pierre Vigny set up his own self-defence school in London. By July of that year he and his wife/associate instructor Marguerite (a.k.a. “Miss Sanderson”) were performing promotional demonstrations in some prestigious venues, including the Royal Albert Hall.
These sketches by Percy F.S. Spence record the Vignys’ exhibitions on the evening of July 2nd, appearing on a bill that included their Bartitsu Club colleague Yukio Tani and the famed “Russian Lion”, wrestling champion George Hackenschmidt.
Originally published on the Bartitsu.org site on Thursday, 21st February 2019
Subtitled “Ju-Jitsu for Ladies”, this photo feature was originally published the Sketch newspaper of April 12, 1905. A note reveals that photos 1, 3, 5, 6 and 7 were taken specifically for this article at the Japanese School of Ju-Jitsu, which was operated by former Bartitsu Club instructor Yukio Tani and his colleague Taro Miyake; the remaining photos are credited to “Park”. Miss Phoebe Roberts is the demonstrator in most of the these pictures.
1. Should her assailant seek to take hold of her jacket, the lady catches him by the right hand, and by twisting it and pressing the elbow, which causes exquisite pain, easily throws him to the ground. His arm is then in such a position that it can be locked without much trouble.
2. The assailant can be rendered unconscious by this neck-hold after he has been thrown.
3. To effect this side-throw, the lady places her right foot in front of that of her assailant, pulls him sharply round, and throws him with the aid of his own strength.
4. The lady can also deal with any ruffian who may attack her by means of this hand-lock, which if fought against would lead to broken fingers.
5. The stomach-throw here shown is a favourite with the exponents of Ju-Jitsu, and is especially useful against a big opponent. The lady places her foot against her assailant’s stomach, and then drops quickly to the ground, with the result that the man’s weight causes him to be thrown over her head.
6. Having thrown her opponent flat upon the ground, the lady places one foot upon the back of his knee, catches hold of his collar with her left hand and of his toes with her right, and at the same time puts her left knee against his back. The foot is then pressed back towards the body, the pain caused rendering the victim helpless.
7. After she has thrown her assailant, the lady places her left foot on his chest, and then, catching hold of him by the left wrist and pressing her left knee forward, is soon in a position to dislocate his arm should need be.
Posted inJiujitsu|Comments Off on “For Women Who Walk Alone: How to Tackle the Hooligan” (1905)
Originally published on the Bartitsu.org site on Thursday, 3rd January 2019
Instructor Jennifer Garside teaches suffrajitsu-style self-defence in this educational mini-feature for the UK’s BBC Two channel.
For a more in-depth treatment of this subject, check out the free independent documentary No Man Shall Protect Us: The Hidden History of the Suffragette Bodyguards:
… and if your appetite for the subject extends to fiction, the 2015 graphic novel trilogy Suffrajitsu: Mrs. Pankhurst’s Amazons is available via Amazon and ComiXology. Here’s the video trailer:
Posted inDocumentary, Suffrajitsu|Comments Off on Suffrajitsu Mini-Documentary on BBC Two
Originally published on the Bartitsu.org site on Thursday, 6th December 2018
This self-defence article by the Icelandic wrestler and showman Johannes Josefssonwas published in the Sydney Sun newspaper on June 9th, 1911.
Readers familiar with the basics of both jiujitsu and glima may well wonder at a number of Mr. Josefsson’s techniques, which seem to bear a far greater affinity to the former than to the latter.
During recent years public interest in any and every really valuable form of self-defence has increased very largely, and on that account it will be a matter of the greatest surprise to me if the true merits of “Glima,” the particular form of self-defence that has actually been practised in Iceland for nearly one thousand years, do not, when once known, become generally recognlsed, for, as has been proved on countless occasions, it is at once the simplest and yet withal the most efficacious of all exercises.
But as to the present time, the ancient pastime of my countrymen has been jealously guarded from all foreigners. Indeed, the only occasion when strangers were allowed to witness it during the whole of the last century was when it was displayed before King Christian IX of Denmark at Thing-vellir, when he visited Iceland in 1874, and even then only two men took part — the presont Rev. Sigurour Gunnarsson, of Stykkisholm, and the Rev. Larus Halldorsson, of Reykjavik.
But times change, and thus to-day, even in far-away Iceland, where news from the outside world is slow to creep in, we have at last recognised that no good purpose is being served by still keeping secret our ancient form of self-defence, the knowledge of which, valuable though it is in everyday life, must necessarily play “second fiddle” in scientific warfare. On that account, therefore, to-day I feel no qualms in divulging to readers the secrets of this form of self-defence, which has been practised In Iceland since 1100, when my country was a Republic. It was not then limited to the platform nor to any special occasion, for throughout the land, from the country, farm to the Althing (Parliament), it was a daily exercise in which most men took part.
Tho essential idea of this Icelandic form of self-defence is to enable the weaker to hold their own with the stronger, and I am not exaggerating when I say that. If she will take the trouble to learn some of the tricks and “hitches” of Glima, even a woman possessed of only ordinary strength will be able to defend yourself against, and overcome, an opponent possessed of far greater physical strength.
In recent years, too, the perfection to which Glima has been brought has proved it to be, in a very high degree, an exercise which gives health and endurance to the body, and which also acts as a real source of refreshment to tho mind, while, at the same time, sharpening the courage, smartness, and intellect of those who take part in it. I would mention that most of the grips are formed by the aid of the feet and legs, so that, even should an exponent of Glima have his or her hands tied, a capable resistance can still be made, n0 matter from which side the attacker may decide to start operations.
It would be easy to write at considerable length about the history of this wonderful form of self-defence, for the story of how, little by little, new holds and hitches have been thought out to enable its exponents to be prepared for all emergencies is full of interest. Still, in the space allowed to me, I could not do sufficient justice to the subject, so I will content myself by explaining various tricks which are likely to prove most useful in cases of emergency in everyday life. Even in these civilised days, the hooligan and larrikin is far from “a back number,” as cases so frequently reported in the press clearly prove, but I would dare swear that these amiably-inclined “gentlemen” would speedily havo cause to regret their temerity if they were to attempt an assault on an opponent conversant with Glima.
Perhaps the most common form of attack is with the fists, and, generally speaking, a man posssessed of some knowledge of how to box must inevitably have a great pull over an opponent who has never learnt how to use his fists. I will, therefore, explain how an attack with the fists can be easily warded off, and also how the attacker can be reduced to a state of lamb-like passivity.
For the sake of example, let us say that he leads off with the left, as shown in the accompanying illustration. As he strikes out, all that it is necessary to do is to throw yourself down on your left hand, at the same time throwing the right foot across his right leg just above the knee, and quickly gripping your left foot behind and over the opponent’s right, when, by pressing your right foot back and your left foot forward, you have him in such a position that you can throw him to the ground, and, by exertlng pressure, keep him there until he has decided that further attack would be, to put it mildly, a most indiscreet undertaking.
On paper, no doubt, this explanation may not seem quite clear, but if you will practise the hold for a minute or two with any opponent you will be able to prove its value at once. But I do not think I need give any clearer example of the merits of this trick than by saying that, although I am not a boxer myself, I am, nevertheless, prepared to challenge even the champion of the world, and to throw him to the ground before he can make any real use of his fistic ability.
When unarmed, to be attacked by an opponent with a knife is a happening which even Mark Tapley would assuredly not have found particularly cheering. However, such an attack can be rendered completely ineffective, as follows. Let us suppose that the attacker strlkes out with his knife in the right hand. As he does so, the attacked must move slightly to the left, so that the arm comes over his shoulder.
He must then turn quickly to the right, at the same time twisting his left leg round the attacker’s right, as shown above, and also pulling the attacker’s right arm across his chest, when the former will find himself in a position from which he cannot possibly extricate himself, for, by putting on even slight pressure, his opponent can break either his arm or his leg with the greatest of ease.
Maybe, in explaining what can be done, I must seem rather a bloodthirsty person. As a matter of fact, however, I should like to say that I am the most peacefully-inclined individual in the world. Still, to show how Glima can he made of real value in everyday life in the case of attack, it is necessary to point out the unenviable position any opponent must find himself in if he struggles against a Glima “hold.”
An excellent means of throwing an opponent off his balance is known in the Icelandic form of self-defence as the “inverted hitch.” This is performed with either right foot on right (as shown above) or left on left, by hooking the foot slantwise round an opponent’s heel, the attacker’s knee bent slightly forward and his opponent’s slightly inward, so that the foot is locked in the position shown in the illustration. The attacker then draws his foot smartly to one side, and with his hands he keeps his opponent from jumping, for it is important to keep him down, otherwise the trick can be frustrated.
Another valuable trick for unbalancing an opponent is the “leg trick.” This is performed by placing the right foot on the opponent’s foot, or vice versa, so that the inner part of the foot touches the outer part of his foot. The feet are then drawn from him, and the hands used to complete the fall.
I would mention, by the way, that the last two tricks I have described will be found particularly effective should any reader encounter some individual in a crowd, or elsewhere, who shows some inclination to assert his position in an unploasnnt manner by jostling or otherwise using undue pressure. Yes, the “leg trick” and “inverted hitch” will be found invaluable replies to a jostler’s idiosyncrasies.
An opponent possessed of “firearms” and unamiable inclinations is never a particularly pleasant person to meet. Still, at close quarters it is possible to deprive him of much of his advantage if you will act quickly, and act as follows: —
Let us suppose that he is trying to extort money or the fulfilment of some wish by levelling a revolver at your head, and threatening “your money or your life” unless you consent to his dictates. As he raises the revolver step quickly back, at the same time leaning backwards, and with your right foot kick up his wrist in such a way that his aim is completely “put out of joint,” in that, whether he fires or not, the shot must inevitably miss its destination.
I do not pretend, of course, that this trick is in any way infallible, for an opponent with firearms and his finger on the trigger must necessarily be possessed of an enormous advantage over an unarmed adversary. At the same time, with sufficient practice, the simple device I have explained can be performed so rapidly that, while the arm is being raised to fire, the foot acts more quickly, and reaches the wrist before the revolver is in the requisite position to make an effective effort.
Another extremely useful way of disarming an opponent— if only you are quick enough — is shown here. As the attacker levels his revolver at his adversary’s head, the latter quickly bends down and grasps his opponent’s right wrist with his left hand and the latter’s left with his right hand, the while forcing his left wrist back. With his right leg he then encircles the attacker’s left in such a way that he can easily throw him backwards, when, by gripping the wrist of the hand In which he holds the revolver, and by pressing the thumb on the back of the armed hand and gripping his palm with the other fingers, an opponent is inevitably forced to drop the revolver.
Try this grip on anyone you like, no matter how strong he may be, and you will find it extraordinarily effective.
A trick I would earnestly commend to ladies is known in Glima as the “zig-zag trick”. By this manoeuvre, even a child can throw a strong man to the ground with lightning rapidity, and in my native country I have often seen a little Icelander bring about the overthrow of a man who, in a hand-to-hand struggle, would probably have defeated her “with two fingers.” The requisite position in which to bring this trick into play can be understood at once by glancing at the illustration.
The “zig-zag trick” is “laid” by placing the right foot round an opponent’s right leg, when, by quickly gripping him by the wrists and swinging him slightly to the left, he will find himself on his back in a fraction of a second. The valuo of this trick is derived entirely from the laws of balance, and, if practised a few times, ladies will find it particularly useful as a means of subjugating someone much stronger than themselves.
The “gentle hooligan” who relics upon a knife or dagger to bring about an opponent’s downfall can he subdued as follows. As he strikes downwards with his knife, the person attacked bends slightly backwards, at the same time gripping the right wrist with the left hand and his right ankle with the right hand from the outside, when, by pressing the leg upwards, as shown in the illustration, an opponent, no matter how strong he may be, can be thrown backwards to the ground.
I quite realise that “the hypercritical reader,” who, maybe, has never even heard of Glima, will probably scoff at the tricks I have explained, by reason of the fact that in cold, hard print they probably sound far from easy of accomplishment. I would hasten to say, therefore, that every Glima trick explained in this article will be found perfectly simple after a little practice. After all, it is on practice, and practice alone, that each and every form of self-defence depends for its real value in times of stress; and when I point out that a really clever exponent of Glima is more than a master for an adept at any other form of self-defence, I am merely giving this Icelandic pastime the credit to which it is entitled.
In conclusion, I would lay special stress on the necessity of each trick being performed sharply and decisively. Had space permitted I could have explained many other tricks which might possibly have come in useful at some time or another to readers. If, however, they will be content to thoroughly master the various “self-defence” exercises set forth in this article, they will find that they are armed with a stock-in-trade of defensive tactics which will assuredly serve them is good stead should necessity to bring them into play arise.
No speclal gymnasium is required in which to practice Glima tricks; any ordlnary-sized apartment will serve the purpose. In fact, a plot of level ground anywhere furnishes an excellent school, providing there are no stones.
I would mention, too, that no carpet is required, and the tricks may be practised in ordinary clothes, though, until they become fairly expert, I would counsel beginners not to wear too-heavily-soled boots or shoes; soft shoes, or the stockinged feet, are best when commencing to practise Glima tricks, as – speed being so essential to their successful accomplishment – unnecessarily hard knocks are sometimes given when heavy footwear is worn.
Posted inAntagonistics, Wrestling|Comments Off on “Glima: Wonders of the Secret Sport of Iceland Which Beats Ju-Jitsu” (1911)
Originally published on the Bartitsu.org site on Thursday, 8th November 2018
Directed by Tony and Kathrynne Wolf, No Man Shall Protect Us: The Hidden History of the Suffragette Bodyguards (2018), written by Tony Wolf, offers a lucid and rousing yet sensitively balanced account of the role of the role of martial arts in the campaign of the Women’s Social and Political Union. The documentary, which is backgrounded by evocative piano music and songs of the era, looks back across the late-Victorian era to the 1900s, considering Edward William Barton-Wright’s introduction of jujitsu to Britain and its emergence in mainstream popular culture. The story is nicely accompanied by a wide range of contemporary photography, film and illustrations.
Much of action is set in the months following the passing of the Prisoners (Temporary Discharge for Ill-health) Act, 1913 under which suffragettes could be released from jail to recover sufficiently (watched by the police) in order to be recaptured and see out the remainder of their sentences. The Act signalled a cycle of releases and rearrests, the government toying with the released prisoners as a cat would taunt a mouse. Mrs Pankhurst was the most famous of mouse of all and she needed special protection: her team of jujitsu-trained supporters, known simply as ‘The Bodyguard’.
Lizzie Bourne, who is an experienced voiceover artist, presents to camera and, with her measured style of narration, sets the keynote to this documentary. Her gentle tone acts as a counterpoint to Debra Ann Miller’s fiery Mrs Pankhurst and Lynne Baker’s compelling yet intimidating jujitsu instructor Mrs Garrud. Excerpts from the play The Good Fight give a sense of the shape of the confrontations between the Bodyguard and the police – whom Mrs Pankhurst called ‘tools of the government’ – as well as offer an insight into how the story of the Bodyguard is celebrated today. The confrontation scenes also underline Tony’s argument that the Bodyguard fought two battles, ‘one at street level and the other as cogs in a well-oiled suffragette propaganda machine’.
The actors have been well selected. I particularly liked Scottie Caldwell’s depiction of Gertrude Harding, who gives us her account as she pours a cup of tea, a copy of The Suffragette in front of her. It’s a scene which reminds me of Godfrey Winn’s interview with Edith Garrud as well as Brian Harrison’s well-known recordings of suffragettes who drink tea and chat to him over cake about their experiences. There are some lovely details, such Gert and Kathrynne Wolf’s Janie Allen standing behind Mrs Pankhurst, deftly signalling information to each other.
While David Skvarla’s accent is a touch over-lilted, it was pleasing to see Chief Constable James Stephenson charismatically being given a meaningful place in the suffragette story. His perspective was not downplayed here as is so often the case in suffragette history, nor reduced to a faceless police report.
We also see the viewpoint of the government represented. The film which accompanies the Votes for Women exhibition at the Museum of London argues that forcible feeding did not improve the condition of hunger-striking women and even set them back. However, as Tony Wolf points out, prison officials were duty bound to preserve life, otherwise protestors would have died in their care. It was out of this predicament in which the government found itself, not to mention the bad press elicited by forcible feeding, that the Cat and Mouse Act emerged.
The documentary is not only a valuable account of the Bodyguard, with a discussion of modern parallels, but also shows that the ‘Jujutsuffragettes’ are not merely a niche subject within suffragette history. Rather, the documentary invites us to consider the wider symbolic impact of jujitsu on the women’s suffrage campaign. ‘The image of radical suffragettes being helplessly led, carried away or dragged by much larger police constables was central to the popular conception of the suffrage movement,’ Tony says, ‘Therefore, photographs of the petite Edith Garrud, seemingly defeating policemen with deft jujitsu locks, struck a powerfully transgressive chord.’ In that case, perhaps the police were in fact the tools of the suffragettes?
No Man Shall Protect Us is freely available for viewing via this link.
About the reviewer: Since graduating from Birkbeck College, London in 2008, Emelyne now works as a freelance writer specialising in the 19th century. Her books include “Masculinity, Crime and Self-Defence in Victorian Literature: Duelling with Danger” (2010), which looks at crime-fighting from the seldom-explored viewpoint of the civilian city-goer. A sister volume, “Femininity, Crime and Self-Defence in Victorian Literature and Society: From Dagger-Fans to Suffragettes” was published in 2013.
Emelyne is currently writing her next book, “Kitty and the Cats: Mrs Pankhurst’s Suffragette Bodyguard and the London Police”, which tells the story of Emily Katherine Willoughby Marshall, a member of the ‘Bodyguard’. She became Emmeline Pankhurst’s close friend and was the chief organiser of her memorial, standing today in Victoria Tower Gardens, Westminster.
Emelyn is a regular contributor to the Times Literary Supplement and History Today, and has appeared on BBC television and radio. She is the current Chairman of the HG Wells Society.
Originally published on the Bartitsu.org site on Thursday, 10th September 2015
“… a huge subterranean hall, all glittering, white-tiled walls, and electric light, with ‘champions’ prowling around it like tigers …”
– Mary Nugent (January 1901)
There are now approximately forty Bartitsu clubs and study groups around the world, all working to continue E.W. Barton-Wright’s experiments in blending scientific fisticuffs, jiujitsu and Vigny cane fighting. In keeping with the DIY, open-source nature of the Bartitsu revival, every club pursues its own agenda and points of emphasis. But what do we know about the original Bartitsu School of Arms and Physical Culture in London’s Shaftesbury Avenue?
Origins
Edward William Barton-Wright, the founder of Bartitsu
E.W. Barton-Wright began performing jiujitsu displays almost as soon as he returned to London from Japan. At that point, given his birth and early years spent in India, his education in France and Germany and his constant international travels as an adult, he had probably spent many more years living outside of England than “at home”.
Barton-Wright’s demonstration at the famed Bath Club in March of 1899 seems to have been a pivotal event, in that this was probably where he first met William Grenfell, the First Baron Desborough, and Sir Cosmo Duff Gordon. These aristocrats – both of whom enjoyed novel and eccentric athletic pursuits – had the all-important social standing and connections that Barton-Wright needed if he was to make his name in London.
The following month, at the conclusion of Barton-Wright’s two-part Pearson’s Magazine article “The New Art of Self Defence”, he noted that “in the future, all being well, I shall open a school”.
By June of that year, Grenfell was championing the idea of what would become the Bartitsu Club. Socially prominent, athletic, well-liked and an inveterate supporter of many clubs and organizations, he was the natural choice for Club president, with Barton-Wright assuming the role of Managing Director.
A committee of gentlemen
It’s important to bear in mind that early Edwardian London was highly class-conscious and that the notion of a “club” carried a different connotation during that period than it typically does today. It would be unusual for a club to advertise in newspapers, for example, because word-of-mouth recommendations were considered to be more prestigious. Exclusivity, among other things, was taken for granted. Therefore, when Grenfell described the then-nascent Bartitsu Club to reporters in June of 1899, he stated plainly that the idea was:
“… to establish an athletic class for people of good standing, and it seemed to us best to establish it in the form of a club, so as to be able to exclude undesirable persons. So members will be able to come themselves, and to send their children and the ladies of their family for instruction with every assurance that they will be running no risk of objectionable associations.”
Barton-Wright himself offered some clarification regarding what would be considered “undesirable” and “objectionable” in an interview during September of 1901. Replying to the interviewer’s observation that “If you sow this knowledge broadcast it might be bad for the police,” Barton-Wright noted that skill in the art required regular training and that:
” … this is a club with a committee of gentlemen, among whom are Lord Alwyne Compton, Mr. Herbert Gladstone, and others, and no-one is taught here unless we are satisfied that he is not likely to make bad use of his knowledge.”
This “committee of gentlemen” was a standard convention of Edwardian club-life. Along with Liberal Party politicians Compton and Gladstone, the Bartitsu Club committee included Captain Alfred Hutton, who was also a fencing instructor at the Club, and Hutton’s erstwhile rival Colonel George Malcolm Fox, the former Inspector General of British Army Gymnasia.
Collectively, their role was to act as “guardians at the gate” by assessing the characters of prospective members. Going by the assessments run by comparable clubs, the committee probably interviewed the applicant at some length, asked for letters of reference and ascertained that they were sufficiently solvent to be able to pay their enrollment and tuition fees.
This formal process was especially important because journalists often struggled to imagine why “respectable” people would need or even want to learn the intricacies of Japanese unarmed combat or Professor Vigny’s elegant stick fighting. In introducing the novelty of “recreational martial arts” to London society, Barton-Wright quite frequently had to explain that he was not in the business of training hooligans or “chuckers-out” (Edwardian slang for music hall bouncers).
Inside the Club
While the address at 67b Shaftesbury was fortuitous, in the heart of a busy and popular entertainment district, the very few photographs known to have been taken inside the Club suggest a fairly spartan basement gym.
The ceiling was supported by very sturdy white pillars and dark curtains ran along the white tile walls. The main part of the floor was probably carpet over concrete, with a large matted section for jiujitsu practice.
It’s likely that members would not join expecting the opulence or amenities of older and better-funded institutions, such as the Bath Club. The basement gym was outfitted with “cheval glasses” (large mirrors) and dumbbells among other standard accoutrements of circa 1900 physical culture training. However, Barton-Wright’s elaborate and impressive electrotherapy clinic – which was, arguably, his main business concern – was situated in an adjacent room.
Training
Assuming that the prospect passed the committee’s examination, s/he was then required to undertake an extensive (and expensive) course of private lessons. We have few details as to what these lessons may have involved, but, writing in 1901, Nugent mentioned that “no (group) class-work (was) allowed to be done until the whole of the exercises are perfectly acquired individually”. On that basis, it’s safe to assume that beginners would be drilled in physical culture (calisthenic exercises) and the fundamental skills required in boxing, jiujitsu and cane fighting, all one-on-one with Barton-Wright and the other instructors.
Finally, having passed through an evidently robust battery of character tests and private lessons, fully-fledged Bartitsu Club members could join in the group classes. These seem to have been set up on a kind of circuit-training basis, with students rotating between lessons taught by the various instructors. The most detailed account of regular training at the Club comes from “S.L.B.’s” article in The Sketch of April 12, 1901:
The Bartitsu Club, through its Professors, over whom Mr. Barton-Wright keeps an admonishing eye, guarantees you against all danger. 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 could kill you and twenty like you if he so desired in the interval between breakfast and lunch – but, as a matter of fact, he never does. 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, where self-defence is taken far more seriously than here. The Champion Wrestler of Osaka, or one of the shining lights among the trainers for the Tokio police, dressed in the picturesque garb of his corner of the Far East, 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.
The Japanese Champions are terribly strong and powerful; at a private rehearsal of their work, given some two months ago on the Alhambra stage, I saw a little Jap. who is about five feet nothing in height and eight stone in weight, do just what he liked with a strong North of England wrestler more than six feet high, broad, muscular and confident. The little one ended by putting his opponent gently on his back, and the big one looked as if he did not know how it was done.
There is no form of grip that the Japanese jujitsu work does not meet and foil, and in Japan a policeman learns the jujitsu wrestling as part of his equipment for active service. One of the Club trainers was professionally engaged to teach the police in Japan before he came to England to serve under Mr. Barton-Wright.
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” be behind you.
The Club curriculum also evolved over time. For a period during mid-1901, which was clearly the Bartitsu Club’s heyday, members could also take classes in breathing exercises with Mrs. Kate Behnke. Barton-Wright printed a “remarkable table of results of improvement in breathing capacity and chest girth resulting from respiratory exercises”.
The benefits of membership
Grenfell’s remark about “children and ladies” is telling. All of the Bartitsu Club members for whom we have concrete records were adult men, including a large percentage of soldiers and moneyed athletes. It’s likely, however, that actress Esme Beringer and child actor Charlie Sefton studied historical fencing with Captain Hutton there, and journalist Mary Nugent confirmed that “an endless number” of women did indeed attend classes at the Shaftesbury Avenue Club.
It’s clear that some Club members specialised in certain skills or styles, possibly due to time constraints. Captain F.C. Laing of the 12th Bengal Infantry spent much of his London furlough training at the Club, selecting a combination of jiujitsu and Vigny stick fighting. Laing regretted that he could not prolong his training, but he had to return to his regiment in India when his leave was up.
While Barton-Wright encouraged his employees to train with (and compete against) each other, it’s not clear to what extent the “Bartitsu cross-training” system progressed during the relatively short period the Club was open. It’s very likely that, for example, some of the jointlocks and takedowns recorded in Barton-Wright’s article “Self Defence with a Walking-Stick” were influenced by jiujitsu. The ever-enthusiastic Captain Laing also referred to, but did not detail, combined jiujitsu and stick fighting sequences in his article “The Bartitsu Method of Self Defence”.
Ironically, though, by the time Laing’s article was published, the original Bartitsu Club had closed its doors for the last time …
Originally published on the Bartitsu.org site on Sunday, 29th September 2013
To the Editor of the Evening Telegraph Dublin, February 10, 1901
Dear Mr. Editor – I see by your issue of Saturday an extract from the February number of “Pearson’s” bearing on Mr. E.W. Barton-Wright’s papers on “Self Defence with a Walking Stick”. In the main I am with him, as I have used the same mode of ingress, egress and regress in a dense crown in various parts of the world. I always since I left the Army carry a large stick, and, like Mr. Barton-Wright, find it useful.
In the first place I manage to get the point on the heel of the man in front, should he not stir. I reverse it and bring it to bear on the man in my rere (sic). By doing this in regimental fashion, you soon cause a “stampede”, and no-one can say you are wrong as the swaying of the crowd accounts for the swaying of the stick. Your immediate vicinity is then vacant and you (in nine cases out of ten) get elbow-room.
Now for the bayonet exercise. This you cannot do unless given clear space, and the quarter-turn that Mr. Barton-Wright alludes to is simply the change from left point to right (you must change hands). I am now only speaking of a dense crowd in which the stick might play an important part.
As regards self defence, pure and simple, if out-numbered I hold again to the bayonet exercise. Hardly a man, no matter how big a bully he is, can withstand a well-directed thrust with a strong stick handled by one who knows how to handle a bayonet; but still, if you can get in a cut, why (not?) do it.
Originally published on the Bartitsu.org site on Sunday, 29th September 2013
Bartitsu instructor James Marwood is interviewed for The Perfect Gentleman, a UK-based initiative to “make the world a more respectful, stylish and gentlemanly place, one man at a time.”
Topics of conversation include James’s career as a business change consultant, his early experiences as a doorman (bouncer), the history and revival of Bartitsu with an aside into the Sherlock Holmes connection, teaching self defence classes tailored to young men and gentlemanly choices of attire, finishing with “The Perfect Gentleman’s Ten Questions”.
The Bartitsu and self defence section of the interview runs from about 13:48-35:25.
Posted inInterviews|Comments Off on James Marwood on the Gentlemanly Arts of Self Defence and Sartorialism
Originally published on the Bartitsu.org site on Monday, 31st December 2012
This newsreel clip was shot at a gala day at London’s Kensington Palace Field in the year 1928. The first half features a boxing exhibition by Alf Mancini, who was scheduled to fight Jack Hood at Birmingham for the British Welterweight Championship.
Of particular interest to Bartitsu and British jujitsu/judo history buffs, though, is the second half of the clip, which features an exhibition of judo (described as “advanced ju-jitsu”) as demonstrated by members of the “Bodokwai” (sic – should read Budokwai).
Although it’s impossible to be certain, the tori (executor of the techniques) in the judo demonstration bears a very strong resemblance to former Bartitsu Club instructor Yukio Tani, who was the first professional instructor employed by the Budokwai.
Tani aged about 40 (left), about 20 (centre) and executing a restraint technique against Budokwai founder Gunji Koizumi (right). Note the distinctive bald spot on Tani’s head in the latter picture, and compare with that of the tori in the newsreel; the photograph was taken circa 1932.
Eight years before this newsreel was shot, Tani had been formally awarded the second dan black belt rank in Kodokan judo by Professor Jigoro Kano. That recognition built upon Tani’s already vast experience as a jujitsu instructor and challenge wrestler, which dated back to his arrival in London during 1900 at the invitation of Bartitsu founder E.W. Barton-Wright. Tani would have been about 45 years old when the newsreel was shot.
If this is film footage of Yukio Tani, it represents one of only two such films known to exist, the other being a two-second shot of the then-56 year old Tani that appears at 00.25 in this 1937 newsreel:
Yukio Tani suffered a severe stroke in 1937, but he continued to teach from the sidelines of the Budokwai mats until his death on January 24th, 1950.
The only other film known to depict a former Bartitsu Club instructor in action is this re-animation of cinematographic film frames that were used to illustrate Sadakazu Uyenishi‘s “Textbook of Ju-Jitsu”:
Posted inBoxing, Jiujitsu, Video|Comments Off on Bartitsu Club Instructor Yukio Tani in Action?