“Let’s See Him!” (1901)

  • Originally published on the Bartitsu.org site on Thursday, 27th December 2018

Even by September of 1901, with the Bartitsu Club in Shaftesbury Avenue well-established and Bartitsu itself the subject of much media attention, E.W. Barton-Wright suffered ongoing frustrations in persuading European wrestlers to take on his Japanese champions.  This article from the Morning Post of September 19th records how one would-be challenge match was called off at the last possible moment.


Mr. Barton-Wright’s “Another way of breaking the same fall” was the first thing one heard last night on entering the Tivoli. One might have thought, to look at it, that it was another way of breaking the same bone. An enormous audience had assembled to see a Russian light-weight wrestler try conclusions with one of Mr. Barton-Wright’s Japanese exponents of Bartitsu.

However, no collision between Russia and Japan was forthcoming on this occasion. Mr. Barton-Wright informed the audience that the challenger was in the house, was indeed in the wings, but had thought better his challenge. This led to some interruption: there were clearly two parties in the house. Mr. Barton-Wright proceeded say that had vainly offered the challenger £lOO, not by way of wager but as a gift, if he scored a single throw.

Then, after more interruption, Mr. Dowsett, the manager, came forward and confirmed Mr. Barton-Wright’s statement. £lOO had been deposited with him; he had Mr. Barton- Wright’s bank-note in his pocket.

And so the exhibition ran its usual course. One cannot blame anybody for keeping out the clutches of the Japanese wrestlers, whose art includes much that in England, and probably Russia, is looked on as foul play. But one should think of that before issuing a challenge, and not at the last moment, when others have gone to inconvenience in order to see the promise kept. In any case, the challenger might have responded to the cry, “Let’s see him” by endeavouring to hold the Japanese wrestler down.

It seems that the Japanese are to find no opponents, unless, indeed, a meeting can be arranged (it might be out and home) with the lions at the Hippodrome. Meanwhile, one would much like to know of what material the Japanese wrestlers’ dresses are made. It seems durable.


A report from the Music Hall Gossip newspaper of September 21st offered the tantalising further detail that the would-be challenger had offered to fight Tani or Uyenishi in his own (presumably Russian) style, while the champions employed their jiujitsu.  Alas, it was not to be.

Posted in Canonical Bartitsu, E. W. Barton-Wright, Jiujitsu | Comments Off on “Let’s See Him!” (1901)

“I Look Forward to the Debate, Sir!” – a Bartitsuesque Fight Scene from “Q.E.D.” (1982)

  • Originally published on the Bartitsu.org site on Tuesday, 19th January 2016

Readers of a certain age may fondly recall the short-lived TV series Q.E.D. (also titled The Mastermind), which screened during the early 1980s. The show featured Sam Waterston as the eccentric former Ivy League professor Quentin E. Deverill, who becomes embroiled in a variety of adventures in Edwardian London. The character of Deverill is reminiscent of Craig Kennedy, the scientific detective who featured in a number of popular short stories written by Arthur B. Reeve during the first decades of the 20th century.

In this scene, during the course of investigating a mysterious disappearance at sea, Deverill attends and debunks a hoax seance, provoking an attack by the “medium’s” henchmen. The hero responds with a very Bartitsuesque combination of fisticuffs and jiujitsu …

Professor Deverill’s active skepticism in the face of spiritualistic chicanery is reminiscent of magician and escape artist Harry Houdini, who famously investigated and exposed numerous fake seances during the 1920s. Houdini later hired a team of undercover private investigators to infiltrate the “ghost racket” scene and report back to him – he nicknamed them “my own secret service” – after which he would publicly expose the mediums during his stage performances.

Although history doesn’t record any Bartitsuesque mayhem in connection with these exposes, members of Houdini’s “secret service” genuinely were caught up in the scuffles that did occasionally erupt between pro- and anti-spiritualists.

Bartitsu founder Edward Barton-Wright himself delved into exposing the tricks of those who claimed supernatural powers via his first article for Pearson’s Magazine in 1899. In “How to Pose as a Strong Man”, Barton-Wright detailed the subtle mechanical and leverage techniques by which vaudeville performers such as the so-called Georgia Magnet demonstrated apparently superhuman strength.

Posted in Edwardiana, Fiction, Humour, Pop-culture, Video | Comments Off on “I Look Forward to the Debate, Sir!” – a Bartitsuesque Fight Scene from “Q.E.D.” (1982)

“A Novel Ju Jitsu Demonstration” (1904)

  • Originally published on the Bartitsu.org site on Sunday, 20th January 2019

This article from the Sporting Life of 21 December, 1904 includes a possibly-unique report of former Bartitsu Club instructors Yukio Tani and Sadakazu Uyenishi working together again during the years following the Club’s dissolution.  It also represents one of the very first public exhibitions of Japanese unarmed combat by women, presaging both the craze for “jujitsu parties” and the more serious association of jujitsu with the women’s suffrage movement.


The British public are no strangers to ju-jitsu, but it is something of a novelty to see it demonstrated by two daughters of Albion.

Tani’s performances have familiarised many with the commoner manoeuvres, such the fatal arm-lock and the outside-right click, beloved of Jonathan Whitehead, the renowned wrestler of a past generation, but to the Cockney mind ju-jitsu still savours largely of mystery and magic.

In a sense, it does partake of the latter character, and at a demonstration by members of the School of Jujitsu at the Caxton Hall, it was defined as the defence of oneself by sleight of body; the utilisation of your opponent’s strength by taking ingenious advantage of the human anatomy.  To accomplish this, the master of ceremonies emphasised the need of studying the art of yielding, as opposed to resisting. Probably this is why wrestlers living outside of Japan have generally shown but limited aptitude for ju-jitsu, the act of yielding being in conflict with their natural instincts.

Those well-known exponents Tani and Uyenishi, were to the fore in illustrating the countless holds, locks, chips, and counters, and a contest between two cheery little compatriots ot theirs in Messrs. Eida and Kanaya raised the audience a high pitch of excitement when “Time!” applied its unwelcome veto.

In the course of the programme two English ladies, Mrs. Watts and Miss Roberts, exhibited some of the tricks of the art. They ware only billed to display of the more elementary points, but they certainly lacked nothing in facility of execution. Mrs. Watts also gave a demonstration with Mr. Eida, whom she appeared to match in proficiency as well as in composure, and – allowing that it was merely an exhibition – this lady showed that she had been an apt pupil.

Another performer was Mr. Miyake, who is much heavier than the other Japanese exponents, though he shares their characteristic agility.

Indeed the whole demonstration, which it is difficult to adequately describe on paper, exemplified in an unmistakable manner that, apart from other advantages, ju-jitsu is invaluable for the cultivation of suppleness. The various turns were of highly attractive order, and testified the sublety which underlies the art. At the same time, the yielding theory is apparently open to qualification. On numerous occasions the exponents undoubtedly practised this principle, but on several others they obviously resisted. This, of course, is only logical, as a policy of “passive resistance” carried to the end must spell subjugation — at any rate, on the mat.

The value of the system is strongly shown in the physiques of its votaries, and the fact of its being a regular part of the Japanese soldier’s training has probably contributed more the success of the Island Empire in Far East campaign than appears on the surface, for it develops the mental well as the physical qualities.

A number of ladies were deeply interested spectators of the proceedings, as were many of the performers’ fellow countrymen.

Posted in Jiujitsu | Comments Off on “A Novel Ju Jitsu Demonstration” (1904)

“British Pickpockets and Their French Brethren” (1897)

  • Originally published on the Bartitsu.org site on Thursday, 24th January 2019

This article from the Dublin Evening Herald of 22 December, 1897 reveals a number of the ingenious mugging and pickpocketing tricks developed by French street criminals.  A few years after this piece was written, the term “Apaches” would widely be applied to the criminal gangs of Paris, whose distinctive “gangster chic” would then inspire an international craze.


It is a current opinion in France that the national pickpockets are not at the top of their profession, says a Daily Mail writer.

This honor is reserved, in France, for the light fingered gentry of the English race. The British pickpocket is always referred to in the columns of French newspapers as an acknowledged master of this craft, as a workman of the most subtle skill and refreshing audacity. Compared with him, the native product is admitted a little sorrowfully to be a bungling tyro, whose methods are clumsy and whose daring is dubious. To be robbed by so awkward a practitioner is disgraceful as well as disagreeable, while to be eased of your purse by the former is an insult to your patriotism, in addition to an injury to your pocket.

Curiously enough, Charles Dickens is responsible to some extent for this belief in the superiority of the British pickpocket. His immortal description of the training of the thief has been popularized in France, where people are convinced that Fagin has many able successors to teach the art of picking pockets on the most improved principles.

A few years ago, a long and circumstantial account appeared in a Parisian paper of a professional training school for thieves, which the writer professed to have visited in London. The article, of course, was a pure invention; but there is no doubt that the majority of those who read it accepted it as a gospel truth, and it is an amusing fact that its author received several letters offering him money if you would forward the address of the school. Evidently the French pickpocket is not above learning, so that there is hope for him yet. It may be added the word “pickpocket” has come into general use in France, where it has almost entirely replaced the French term, “voleur a la tire”.

Probably it is slandering the native practitioner to say that all the pockets artistically picked in Paris are rifled of their contents by experts from this side of the Channel. Still, it is a fact that the Parisian thief shows a predilection for strokes of business that demand no particular talent. He is always on the lookout, for instance, for an opportunity of robbing persons who have been drinking, not wisely but too well. In one variety of this operation he is called, in French slang, the “guardian angel .” His role is to get into conversation with the toper, who is induced to accept his escort and his arm. Under these conditions, to strip the befuddled percentage of his belongings is child’s play.

A still simpler method of operating is that resorted to by the “poivrier”. This class of rogue lies in wait for the drunkard who is rash enough to go to sleep on one of the public seats that are common in the larger Parisian thoroughfares. As a rule the poivrier is able to explore the pockets of his victim without danger, but it happens occasionally that his wrist is seized in a tight grip, and he is invited to step around to the nearest police station, the pretended sleeper being a detective engaged in what is technically known as “fishing.”

A more elaborate mode of picking pockets is the “vol a l’esbrouffe. ” In this case at least two confederates are necessary. A street is chosen in which there is a fair amount of traffic. A likely victim having been marked down among the passersby, one of the thieves runs up against him, as if by accident, and, instead of apologizing for his awkwardness, lets fly a volley of abuse. A man who has been nearly upset and then insulted in this way gives the aggressor a bit of his mind, and in his excitement, and amid the gathering crowd, he is very likely not to notice that the second thief has eased him of his purse, his pocketbook, or his watch.

When his mere dexterity is at a loss, the Parisian thief often has recourse to violence. In a general way he is careful not to endanger the life of his victim. With this view he has perfected various modes of attack, which enable him to have his prey at his mercy for a few moments.

The “coup de la bascule”is a favorite expedient for robbers working alone, or “philosophers” as they are significantly termed in French thieves’ slang. Suppose a footpad sees somebody coming towards him in a lonely street. When a yard or two from the victim he makes a dart at him and with his left hand clutches him by the throat. Taken by surprise, the victim instinctively throws his head back. At this instant his assailant forces one of his legs from the ground by encircling it with his own legs, as in wrestling. The man who is assaulted is half tripped up, and naturally throws out his arms and effort to regain his balance.

His position, in fact, is very much that of the person attached to the swing board, or bascule, of the guillotine; hence the name of the coup. While the victim is in this helpless state, the thief with the right hand snatches his valuables and then, giving his man a final push or blow with his knee in the pit of the stomach, sends him rolling into the gutter, after which he himself takes to his heels. To be successful, especially if the victim be strong, this coup has to be carried out with the utmost rapidity and precision, far more quickly, indeed, then can be described.

The “coup de la petite chaise” is a sort of a variant of that just given, its object being also to make the victim lose his equilibrium for the few moments needed to allow of the robbery being effected. In this instance the assault is made from behind. The victim is seized by the collar, and the footpad then thrusts his knee into the small of his back, thus offering him what is ironically called a “little seat.” The prey once”spreadeagled” in this manner, the thief gets at his pockets over his shoulder. But the nature of the operation and the aptness with which it is named will be best understood by a glance at the illustration:

Both the coups just described and one or two others similar to them are risky. The chances are all against the victim at the outset, but once he is out of the hands of his assailant, there is nothing to prevent him from screaming for help, or even from turning the tables on his aggressor. A very superior invention from the point of view of the footpad, and a much more dangerous one from that of the victim, is the “coup du pere François .”

In this case two “operators” are necessary. One of them, provided with a stout and long scarf, closes up with the victim from behind, throws the scarf around his neck, turns around sharply, and with a jerk hoists the man he has lassooed upon his back. The confederate then “runs the rule” over the victim, who cannot scream because he is half throttled, and who very probably is in a swoon, the result of strangulation, before the proceedings are terminated.

Ingenious, however, as the contrivance is, it has its drawbacks. The process of strangulation may go to far and be fatal to the victim. Without the least intention of making so ugly a mistake the thieves find themselves murderers, and run the risk of “sneezing into the sack”, which is their picturesque way of saying “being guillotined.”

Such, then, are a few of the methods of the typical Parisian rogue, and those who know the British product will readily admit that for sheer brutality, if not dexterity, his French brother surpasses him easily.


For more details on these and other mugging tricks applied in the mean streets of the French capital, see “Footpads of Paris: How French Thugs Ply Their Thieving Trade”

Finally, this video demonstrates a number of pickpocketing tricks still in use today, along with common-sense defences against them:

Posted in Hooliganism | Comments Off on “British Pickpockets and Their French Brethren” (1897)

Canne Vigny and Defense dans la Rue Seminar in Australia

  • Originally published on the Bartitsu.org site on Thursday, 31st January 2019

Instructor and pioneering Vigny cane revivalist Craig Gemeiner will be offering a seminar in Vigny cane fighting and defense dans la rue (early 20th century French street self-defence) on Sunday, 24 February 2019. The seminar will take place at Toowoomba East State School and is being hosted by the Historical School of Defence – Toowoomba.

La canne Vigny :

The “walking stick method of self -defence”

Pierre Vigny was one of the most innovative masters of la canne. Born in 1869, he began his training at a young age venturing from one academy to another, learning new European martial arts techniques and testing his skills against anyone who would pick up a sword, stick or pair of boxing gloves. By 1889 Vigny had perfected his own method of la canne, the system could be described as a mixture of several European self -defence methods. Vigny’s stick fighting method focused on personal protection and not the academic nor sporting applications as commonly taught during the era. La canne Vigny is well documented and today practitioners are privileged to be able to tap into a system that’s time tested, versatile and still very workable on the street.

Defense dans la Rue:

As a system of personal combat Defense dans la Rue (DDLR), meaning ‘defence in the street’ was heavily influenced by the social conditions of the late 1800s. Urban violence fuelled by Parisian street gangs called the Apaches, along with the advent of Belle Epoque period mixed martial arts competition was the catalyst for its creation. Renowned as a simple but highly efficient system of self -defence, techniques included Savate open hand strikes, low line Savate kicking (Leclerc method) English boxing, grappling and weapon base skills. Since its early development Défense dans la Rue has gone on to acquire a unique style and tactical application. Defense dans la Rue is well documented and today practitioners are privileged to be able to tap into a system that’s time tested, versatile and still very workable on the street.

Please click here for class breakdowns and all other details.

Posted in Instruction, Savate, Vigny stick fighting | Comments Off on Canne Vigny and Defense dans la Rue Seminar in Australia

English Edition of “Bartitsu: Historical Self-Defence with a Walking Stick” Now Available via Vimeo and the Freelance Academy Press

  • Originally published on the Bartitsu.org site on Thursday, 7th February 2019

The new English-language version of Alex Kiermayer’s excellent instructional video series is now available as a series of streaming downloads from Vimeo.com. The entire series runs two hours and fifty-four minutes and can be rented for US$29.50 or bought for US$36.90.

The instructional series is also now available on DVD via the US-based Freelance Academy Press website for US$39.95.

Here is our recent, detailed review of the series, which includes lessons on many aspects of Vigny stick fighting for self-defence.

Posted in Instruction, Vigny stick fighting | Comments Off on English Edition of “Bartitsu: Historical Self-Defence with a Walking Stick” Now Available via Vimeo and the Freelance Academy Press

“Street Self-Defence: How to Handle the Hooligan” (1904)

  • Originally published on the Bartitsu.org site on Sunday, 10th February 2019

Originally published in The People newspaper of October 23, 1904, this newly rediscovered article offers a rare glimpse into former Bartitsu Club instructor Pierre Vigny’s Hinde Street school. 

Although Vigny and his wife Marguerite remained in England for some years after the Bartitsu Club closed in mid-1902, comparatively little is known about the Vigny self-defence system, per se, during that period.  Reading somewhat between the lines, however, it’s apparent that Vigny’s post-Bartitsu Club style was similar to what had been taught at the Bartitsu School of Arms, albeit with a greater emphasis on fencing than on jiujitsu.

The author, “A. F.”, closes with a pot-pourri of more-or-less accurate information on boxing, including a self-defence technique borrowed from “Ruby Robert” Fitzsimmons’ 1901 book Physical Culture and Self-Defence.


One can hardly take up a daily paper without reading of street attacks by hooligans. Only a few days ago one heard of the sad case of a poor needlewoman of nearly 70 years of age who died at the Royal Free Hospital from wounds inflicted by three cowardly and despicable scoundrels; so that, consequently, when one learns that with an ordinary stout walking stick, or hooked umbrella, one can venture into the very haunts of the hooligan, one is all attention.

The idea of using any other means of self-defence then the good, time- honoured “dibs” at first appears un-English, yet one must bear in mind that the gentry who are in the habit of molesting pedestrians are absolutely unscrupulous in the weapons they employ.

One reads of the knuckleduster, buckled belts, and even bars of iron concealed in newspapers. The reader, when he calls to mind these facts, and also that the quarterstaff was formerly used by every Englishman as a weapon of defence, especially in the western parts of the kingdom, will find that any prejudice he may have with regard to the use of the stick will be of short duration.

One recalls an excellent description of the use of the quarter-staff in Washington Irving’s “Dracebridge Hall,” that helps us to understand the important part this weapon formerly played in street self-defence. There appears to have been, in the reign of Henry VIII, a Devonshire gentleman who was such an expert with the quarterstaff that he was known to have held his own with this weapon alone against three opponents armed with rapiers and poniards, and, strangely enough, this is exactly what Prof. Pierre Vigny, who has an academy for self-defence in Hinde St., Manchester Square, teaches his pupils to do, armed only with a walking-stick.

The Vigny self-defense stick is a stout malacca cane about 3 feet long, crowned with a solid metal knob about the size of a golf ball. It is flexible, beautifully balanced, and, in the hands of anyone who knows the proper way to use it, sufficient to keep a crowd of hooligans at bay. Even a Fitzsimmons would have a very poor outlook were he to come in contact with a pupil of this novel school of self-defence.

The great mistake that the uninitiated make in using the walking-stick is that, after dealing a blow, the weapon is allowed to remain when it has fallen, instead of being drawn back to the position of self-defence. It is this drawing, or rather cutting, blow that is so telling, and is the foundation of Vigny’s system.

In fact, the exercises with the walking-stick that I had the pleasure of witnessing the other morning at Manchester-sq. gave me much the impression that many of the cuts resembled closely the cutlass drill of the Royal Navy, and yet Vigny’s pupils manipulated the “canne” in manner that defies desription, for the rapidity with which the stick was twirled, acting as a complete guard, and which made me instinctively shrink back in my chair, needs to be witnessed to be thoroughly appreciated. I noticed that the stick itself was held about eight inches from the end, so that after a crashing blow has been delivered it was quickly followed up by a stabbing movement with the ferrule end, which was used as if it was a dagger.

I think I can safely say, without wishing to advertise Monsieur Vigny’s appliances, that his stick in the hands of even one possessed of ordinary judgment, is sufficient to dispose of half a dozen hooligans. In fact, the professor informed me that, one winter evening when in a low quarter in Paris, he was actually attacked. I wish I had been there to see the fun.

The Swiss master-at-arms also teaches his pupils how to defend themselves unarmed in the streets, a series of tricks into which la savate and Japanese wrestling are introduced. We are able to reproduce here a drawing showing Prof. Vigny in his self-defence guard for the streets, and also that splendid Australian boxer, Bob Fitzsimmons, in his “right position.”

Rather Tricky

Even Fitzimmons, with all his science, knows that one man against many is an uphill game, and consequently has several tricks at his fingertips that he can put into execution should the necessity arise. An interesting lesson in street self-defence is that given in his book on physical culture. Here he depicts an opponent threatening to start a fight with him, and a speedy method of placing his opponent at his mercy.

This is done by grasping his opponent’s coat by the collar on either side, and whipping it down over his back and arms, thus leaving him at his mercy, for, with the coat turned back in this position, it is impossible to bring the arms forward without first removing the garment, and while thus engaged it will be clearly seen that the opponent leaves his “oration trap” entirely at the disposal of his adversary .

Origin of the Knuckleduster 

With reference to the knuckleduster as an implement still in use by hooligans, it is interesting to note in connection with this instrument of torture, and the history of self-defence, that it is a survival of the “cestus” used by the ancient Roman gladiators. This “cestus” was composed of strips of leather wound around the arm as far as the elbow, and studded on the knuckles with knobs loaded with lead. Theseus is supposed to have invented boxing – by boxing one means, of course, the skilled use of the fist and arms and assault and defense .

In heroic times fighters sought rather to be fat and fleshy in person, than firm and pliable, for they considered that, in order to withstand blows, plenty of flesh was essential. This form of the manly art of self-defence appeared in England in 1740, and it owed its introduction to Broughton, who built a theatre for pugilists in Oxford Road. It was this fighter who was champion of all England for 18 years. 55 years later a new system of boxing was introduced by Jackson, Lord Byron’s professor, by which the legs were used in avoiding blows and the correct estimate of distance (striking no blows out of range) was arrived at.

Of course, one can hardly expect to be successful in any encounter unless one keeps in fair training, and for this purpose one cannot do better than follow the Australian champion’s advice, showing how any man, who is kept indoors much of the time, may keep in fairly good trim. It sums up as follows – abstain from the use of fatty and starchy food; eat all kinds of meat except pork; eat all kinds of green vegetables, fruits and dry toast; drink tea (without sugar), and do not eat potatoes, butter, fresh bread, or sugar.

This is the diet and sit down by Fitzsimmons, and, if the middle aged businessman who is beginning to increase in weight will follow the diet laid down by the man who has done more for the cause of scientific boxing (and the art of self-defence) than any other person has ever accomplished, he will find that not only will he be free from aches and pains, but that, with a moderate indulgence in self-defence exercises, he will drop from 2 pounds to 5 pounds a week, and, what is equally to the point, never a farthing into the pocket of the troublesome hooligan.

Posted in Hooliganism, Vigny stick fighting | Comments Off on “Street Self-Defence: How to Handle the Hooligan” (1904)

“The Fatal Objection to All Such Plans …” (1902)

  • Originally published on the Bartitsu.org site on Saturday, 16th February 2019

The anonymous author of this short article, originally published in the Perthshire Advertiser of 31 October, 1902, makes the valid point that the first rule towards winning a fight is to know that you’re in one (the second being that there are no rules).


The Grand Duke Michael, who is become quite a familiar figure of late, was one of the distinguished onlookers at a performance of an unusual kind, which took place this week in a hall in Berners Street. It was nothing less than a demonstration of how to tackle Hooligans, given by a French professional man, M. Vigny.

Everybody knows how effectively an umbrella may be used as a means of defence against a mad bull (though very few people ever put that theory to the practical test). M. Vigny argues that if a bull is afraid to face an umbrella, there is no reason why a walking-stick should fail to frighten a Hooligan. Certainly in his hands the humble, everyday support of man becomes a powerful ally indeed, and, if we had a score of French professors like this to let loose on them, the odds are that the Hooligans would all have their eyes put out.

The fatal objection to all such plans is that they depend for success on the person who is attacked keeping a cool head. What most people want on these occasions is not a nice walking-stick, but a good nerve.

Nine men out of ten—and it is no reproach to them – fall into a state of such excitement when they are suddenly and unexpectedly set on by roughs, that the Hooligan is able to do his business, usually assault and robbery, in double quick time, and get clear away before the victim realises what has happened. It is only when he is once more alone and begins to collect his scattered senses that the poor man notices for the first time that his watch is gone and feels the blood trickling down his face.

If he had a walking-stick it would be gone, too.

Posted in Antagonistics, Hooliganism | Comments Off on “The Fatal Objection to All Such Plans …” (1902)

“The Colonial Applicant ‘Taps the Mat’” (1917)

  • Originally published on the Bartitsu.org site on Saturday, 16th February 2019

A spectacular jiujitsu moment from the popular 1917 comedy play Wanted, A Husband, in which the protagonist, a young writer named Mabel, mischievously advertises for a husband to spark ideas for her new novel.  Mabel’s “strenuous” friend Maud, who is well-versed in boxing and in Japanese wrestling, volunteers to serve as a “chucker-out” – effectively, a bouncer – and has occasion to tie one over-eager “Colonial” suitor into a pretzel.

Posted in Fiction, Jiujitsu | Comments Off on “The Colonial Applicant ‘Taps the Mat’” (1917)

Pierre and Marguerite Vigny at the Royal Albert Hall (1904)

  • 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.

The speed and dexterity of Vigny’s signature method of walking stick defence, sketched as a series of after-images.

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 a fencing champion, Marguerite Vigny later developed her own unique art of self-defence with umbrellas and parasols.

Posted in Exhibitions, Fencing, Vigny stick fighting | Comments Off on Pierre and Marguerite Vigny at the Royal Albert Hall (1904)