A promotional postcard (circa 1905) showing former Bartitsu Club instructor Yukio Tani demonstrating a flying armbar (juji gatame) on his manager, the strongman William “Apollo” Bankier:
… and here’s a compilation of the same technique applied in various Brazilian Jiujitsu contests:
Announcing Kirk Lawson‘s re-publication of Percy Longhurst’s “Jiu-Jitsu and Other Methods of Self Defence” (1906) from a copy of the original located by Dr. Milo Thurston of the Linacre School of Defence. The re-published book is available in hard copy for US$9.28 or as a free PDF download from this site.
An early promoter of Japanese “Jiu-Jitsu” in the first decade of the 20th Century in England, Percy Longhurst studied under both Yukio Tani and Sadakazu Uyenishi. He was familiar with, and possibly studied Bartitsu under E.W. Barton-Wright and stick-fighting under Pierre Vigny.
A prolific writer and accomplished amateur athlete, Longhurst quickly turned his skills to Self Defense and the “new,” mysterious, and glamorous foreign martial art of Jiu-Jitsu.
In 1906 he published the first edition of what was to become a celebrated and frequently reprinted manual: Jiu-Jitsu and Other Methods of Self Defense.
Combining Western and Japanese wrestling and self-defense methods, Longhurst’s manual was groundbreaking. Another innovation of this manual is a section specifically intended for ladies. This book is so dense with material, yet so easily understood and well put together, that it was revised and reprinted for decades, at least until the early 1950’s, and at least 11 editions.
This is one of the most important of the early Western self defense manuals due not only to its heavy emphasis on Jiu-Jitsu but its combination with other Western methods. It’s sure to please Western martial artist and early Jiu-Jitsu researchers alike.
Of all the early 20th century British self-defence instructors, Longhurst was the most sympathetic to E.W. Barton-Wright. “Jiu-Jitsu and Other Methods of Self Defence” is truly the closest thing to a Bartitsu manual produced during the pre-War period and is an excellent supplementary resource to the Bartitsu Compendium, Volume II. Kirk Lawson’s re-publication is highly recommended to neo-Bartitsu enthusiasts.
A Bartitsu essay by Tony Wolf is featured in this new two-volume encyclopedia from ABC-CLIO publishing.
You can click this link to visit Martial Arts of the World at Amazon.com. At US$144.00, the encyclopedia is primarily intended for libraries, but serious collectors of quality martial arts literature will want their own copies.
Films from Hollywood to Hong Kong and such competitions as MMA and Ultimate Fighting give us vivid, if oversimplified, images of martial arts in action. But the realities of the world’s martial arts traditions—their histories, philosophies, codes of honor, and methods—are richer than any pop culture portrayal can suggest, with centuries-old combat disciplines practiced in virtually every corner of the globe.
ABC-CLIO’s Martial Arts of the World: An Encyclopedia of History and Innovation is the most authoritative reference ever published on combat disciplines from around the world and across history. Coverage includes Shaolin monks, jousting knights, Roman gladiators, Westerner gunfighters, samurai warriors, and heavyweight boxers. These iconic figures and many more are featured in this title, as well as representatives of less well known but no less fascinating systems, all vividly characterized by expert contributors from around the world who are themselves martial arts practitioners.
Martial Arts of the World comprises 120 entries in two volumes. The first volume is organized geographically to explore the historic development of martial arts styles in Asia, Africa, Europe, and the Americas. The second volume looks at martial arts thematically, with coverage of belief systems, modern martial arts competitions, and a wide range of such topics as folklore, women in martial arts, martial arts and the military, and martial arts and the media.
The encyclopedia offers notably in-depth coverage of areas that have often been neglected in similar works, including martial arts of European, African, South American and Oceanean origins. Another real strength is the emphasis on “Themes” in the second volume, likewise offering truly insightful coverage of the relationship between martial arts training and belief systems, folklore, media, military and paramilitary cultures, performing arts and politics, among other topics.
The four-page Bartitsu entry is featured in the second volume as a case-study of the globalisation of the martial arts. It covers the origins, creation, slide into obscurity, rediscovery and modern-day revival of E.W. Barton-Wright’s “New Art of Self Defence”.
Bartitsu is also referenced in entries on the Jujitsuffragettes, the international spread of jiujitsu, French canne fencing etc.
An interpretation of the kaeshi-no-kata (forms of countering) devised by former Bartitsu Club instructor Yukio Tani during his time as an instructor at the London Budokwai.
From “Fores’s Sporting Notes and Sketches”, 1894:
YES, I have seen one or two queer events in the boxing line. How time makes the running nowadays! Somehow, things seem to come and go much faster than they used to do, and, although I still feel young, it is nearly a quarter of a century since I witnessed the most amusing show, I suppose, that was ever given in the way of a contest between two exponents of the noble art of self defence— one an Englishman, and the other a Frenchman.
The match was arranged by a well-known amateur boxer, and took place in a small town in France, in the rooms of an old Frenchman who gave lessons in fencing, &c. Only about a dozen spectators were invited, and I happened to be one of the favoured few. The Englishman was one of the stars of his profession, and a real tough bruiser, and had never seen the French style of boxing, viz. ‘la savate.’ The Frenchman was one of the leading professors of the art, and had never met an Englishman. So we looked forward to seeing something that would amuse us. We were not disappointed. They both wore gloves, the weight of which I do not remember, and canvas shoes. There was no ring, so they had the whole room to manoeuvre in. The spectators stood round the corners.
I will call the Englishman ‘Tom,’ and the Frenchman ‘Alphonse.’ Tom appeared in the orthodox rig, breeches and socks, and stripped to the waist. Alphonse turned out in a white jersey and black tights. He was a great contrast to the broad-shouldered, bullet-headed Englishman, being nearly a head taller, with extraordinarily long legs, and a wild and hungry look about the eyes. They advanced to the middle of the room, and Tom held out his hand in the usual manner, but was received with a low and courteous bow from Alphonse.
Tom led off by making a feint at the face of Alphonse, who parried it, and landed Tom a smart kick on the side of the head with his right foot, followed immediately by another kick on the other side of the head with his left!
Tom’s look of astonishment was a picture, he tried in vain to get in at Alphonse, who seemed to flutter about more like a butterfly, or daddy-long-legs, than anything else; he tried to catch hold of the feet that kept playing about his head, but without avail, the head that he wanted to go for was never where the head should be, according to Tom, so practically, he had nothing to tackle, except an elongated pair of understandings that seemed to work on springs and on which he could make little or no impression.
I forget how many rounds were fought; any how, we were all convulsed with laughter till the last round, in the middle of which Alphonse threw himself back on his hands and shot out with his left foot, the sole of which was planted with terrific force full into Tom’s face.
The pugilist staggered back nearly the whole length of the room, but he recovered himself, and, with a wicked look, made a rush at Alphonse, and drove him into one of the corners, where he could not use his legs, and landed him one he will never forget, right under the jaw, which almost lifted him off his legs, and his head went with a crash against the wall, and poor Alphonse dropped senseless to the floor. Tom stood over him and muttered, ‘You d—d Froggy, I’ll teach you to play football with my head!’
It was some time before Alphonse came round, in fact, we thought at first that he was killed; however, with plenty of cold water poured over his head, and a fair quantity of cognac poured down his throat, he at last recovered, and it is needless to say, had had quite enough of it. I would go a long way to witness such another show, the extraordinary agility of the Frenchman was most astonishing, and there is no doubt an adept at ‘la savate’ is no mean adversary for an ordinary boxer to tackle.
ART OF STICK DEFENCE.
A Ready Means of Warding Off Felonious Assaults.
In the crowded city as well as at the lonely crossroads a man never knows when he may be called upon to defend himself. However vigilant may be the police, however strong the windows of his house, one is never absolutely secure from thug or burglar. However regular nay be his habits, however restrained his desires, still there are emergencies which may keep a citizen out until the “owl” hours or call him into unfrequented byways.
Street gangs never seemed bolder than at the present time, and their attacks upon law-abiding citizens are of frequent occurrence. The majority limit their operations to the tenement house districts, but now and then they appear where least expected. Such was the case in the alleged attack upon David Lamar’s coachman in Long Branch by “Monk” Eastman and some other members of his notorious East Side gang.
When a man is called on to face a ruffian, he needs no better weapon than a hickory walking stick. A revolver is likely to harm him more than to help. As soon as a man reaches for his weapon, his adversary has the right to shoot, and the accomplished criminal is almost sure to have his weapon ready first. The stick is the better weapon, because it is quicker. It is in one’s hand already. It is always “loaded.”
In such a crisis the first blow counts. At such a time neither endurance nor strength is as important as quickness. There is only one round, and in most instances there is only one blow. The man who gives it first, and gives it right, is the victor. One does not need to be an experienced boxer or wrestler, for his adversary on such occasions is not likely to observe the Marquis of Queensberry rules or the laws of the Greco-Roman school of wrestling. Foul means are fair at such times.
In the city of London the crime of the highwayman and burglar has increased to such an extent that many schools have sprung up in the great English metropolis where one may learn the art of stick defence. These schools have proved popular, and many of the professional fencing and boxing masters have included courses in which the pupil is taught to handle the stick. The instruction is simple, and contrasts in a striking degree with the complicated science of fencing. Neither is it anything like the old art of handling the singlestick, where two men armed with sticks parry with each other for an opening to administer a blow.
Stick defence differs from all these manly exercises in this essential — it is not a pastime between sportsmen; it is a quick and safe method of knocking out a thug.
Many a busy New Yorker, however, would never learn the art of stick defence, even though he believed it would some day save his life, if he had to go to a gymnasium or a fencing school to learn it. “I simply haven’t the time,” such a man would say.
For the same reason he has long wished to be a boxer, and secretly envied the splendid muscles of the athletes he sees at the beach when be goes down there for a Sunday swim. Neither does he know anything about wrestling or many another manly sport which would not only befriend him in an hour of need, but, best of all, build up his physique and enable him to work harder and longer, and yet feel far less weary when he leaves his office at night.
Stick defence, however, can be learned at home more easily, perhaps, than any other art of self-defence, and after a few general rules are mastered the beginner may learn how to apply them in many effective ways. He must first of all have a roommate or some other good friend who is willing to play the “thug” and to be “knocked out” some half hundred times. In imagination the “thug’s” arms will be broken, his wrists and ankles dislocated and his neck twisted.
The thug who is of Anglo-Saxon origin generally makes his assault with his fists. If he doesn’t he pulls a pistol. His most common first attack is to strike his purposed victim in the face with his left hand, and to hold back his right ready for a blow in the stomach. Nine times out of ten such a ruffian overwhelms his man and even an experienced boxer may fail to thwart such an assault. But the man with a stick, should he handle himself right, ought not only to withstand his enemy, but break his arm.
As soon as the stick man sees what his assailant is up to he clutches his enemy’s left hand with his own, and with his right, holding his stick and guarding his stomach at the same time, he cracks the thug’s arm in the crazy bone, at the elbow. At the same time he strikes he twists the arm inward, so as to make the pain of the blow still more acute. If the stick man wants to strike hard enough he can break a thug’s arm in this way.
Should one find it impossible to use this device in withstanding a left-handed attack, there is another way which proves almost as effective.
As the thug rushes for his man the stick man grasps his cane at the small end with his left hand, and with his right he clutches it near the handle. His hands are near enough together, however, so that his right elbow is at an angle of 90 degrees, and with this protruding elbow he wards off the swing of the thug’s left arm. At the same time he thrusts the handle of his cane under the chin of his foe and topples him over on his back. In case of a right-handed attack, the man with a stick meets it in the same fashion, but with opposite hands.
Unless the sight of a pistol’s muzzle unnerves him, the man with a cane is able to dispose of the thug who pulls a gun easier than if he used only his fists. If the pistol puller is left handed, an upward blow of the cane is best, for it knocks the weapon high into the air, and does not swerve the barrel sidewise, (in which case) the bullet is likely to reach the heart of the intended victim.
But in ninety-nine cases out of a hundred the gun is in the right hand, and the stick man need only drop to his knees and at the same time strike his would-be murderer a sharp sidewise crack on the knuckles to disarm him.
As the Anglo-Saxon uses his lists, so the Italian and Spaniard have recourse to the knife. Unless such a thug is left-handed, he strikes with his right hand, and he is met by the stick man in much the same way as a left-handed fist blow is averted by the thrust of the cane’s handle under the chin. The stick man, however, holds his arms differently. He now bends his left elbow to avert the stab and shield his vitals.
As a general thing the thrust of a cane under the chin partially strangles a thug and so disconcerts him that he drops the blade from his hand. Should the ruffian use his left hand, the man with a stick grasps his weapon with his right hand around its small end and his left about its centre, and with his right elbow shielding his breast he gives the strangling thrust into his enemy’s neck.
The German also has his way of holding up a pedestrian. In the gymnasium or the army he has been trained in the use of the broadsword, or even as a peasant boy he has had his “schlagen” matches with his playmates. So when a Teuton who has settled in the New World descends to deeds of violence, he generally uses a stick. His fate, however, at the hands of the master of stick defence is likely to be as instantaneous as that of the Anglo-Saxon or Italian.
In meeting this kind of enemy an umbrella or cane with a hooked handle is the best weapon. The stick man catches the cane of his foe, hooks his assailant around the neck and then jerks his head forward. At the same time he raises his knee so that the face of the thus strikes against it with great force. This treatment makes a man see so many stars that he invariably drops his cane and thus surrenders himself to the mercy of his victor.
Some thugs have a way of coming up on victims from behind and disconcerting them with a kick. The stick man who knows the tactics of thugs is prepared for this kind of assault. As soon as he suspects what is to occur he wheels on his heel and hooks the thug by the foot with the handle of his cane or umbrella. This is sure to send the ruffian over backward on to his back.
Another way is to dodge the kick, and crack the upraised leg with a stick over the knee. Such a blow will break a man’s leg if it be administered hard enough.
Tactics which might supplement those of the London stick men have been Introduced into the United States Navy. They are trick catches which are for the most part based on the Japanese system of wrestling. A sailor renders an assailant powerless simply by twisting his muscles the wrong way. It is called the leverage system, for the reason that it tends to pry a victim’s joints apart by using the bones as levers one against another. Should a New Yorker combine both the tactics of the London stick man and the United States naval wrestler, it is safe to say that the police of this city would have far fewer holdups and burglaries to record than at the present time.
Bartitsu gets an unexpected shout-out in this preview for the new NBC superhero series, “The Cape”. From the official Cape website:
“The Cape” is a one-hour drama series starring David Lyons (“ER”) as Vince Faraday, an honest cop on a corrupt police force, who finds himself framed for a series of murders and presumed dead. He is forced into hiding, leaving behind his wife, Dana (Jennifer Ferrin, “Life on Mars”) and son, Trip (Ryan Wynott, “Flash Forward”). Fueled by a desire to reunite with his family and to battle the criminal forces that have overtaken Palm City, Faraday becomes “The Cape” his son’s favorite comic book superhero — and takes the law into his own hands.
During a training montage, the Cape’s mentor, Max Malini, says:
“British Bartitsu … the warrior dancers of the T’ang Dynasty used their robes as weapons.”
The Cape is obviously an expert martial artist armed with a super-powered cloak, but it’s unlikely that we’ll see any classical Bartitsu featured in the series. On the other hand, it’s always nice when writers do their homework. One wonders what E.W. Barton-Wright would have made of all this.
“To be courageous is enviable, whilst, on the other hand, to be able to conceal the absence of courage is useful” – Baron Charles de Berenger, 1835
Seven decades before E.W. Barton-Wright produced his articles on Bartitsu, there was Baron Charles de Berenger and his “Defensive Gymnastics”.
Lieutenant Colonel Charles Random, Baron de Berenger, was a colourful character indeed. Virtually nothing is known of his early life, except that he was born with the humbler name of Charles Random sometime in the late 18th Century.
During the first decade of the 1800s he was reported to have been working as a colourer at Ackermann’s Printing Company in London and to have been serving as an Army volunteer. He was a notably good shot with both rifle and pistol. As a well-mannered young sportsman he enjoyed the patronage of a banker named Hammerley, and it was at Mr. Hammerley’s home that Random met and subsequently married a German widow, the Baroness de Berenger. He would probably have been aged in his late twenties at that time.
By virtue of having married a Baroness, it appears that Random then assumed the title of Baron and for the rest of his life announced himself as “Charles Random de Berenger de Beaufain” and claimed to be of noble Prussian heritage.
By all reports an effusively polite and remarkably inventive man, de Berenger was none-the-less prone to financial problems. While the Napoleonic Wars raged throughout the European mainland, de Berenger landed in a London debtor’s jail on at least one occasion. In 1814 he was implicated in an audacious and elaborate stock fraud that included temporarily convincing a large proportion of London society that Napoleon Bonaparte had been killed. De Berenger served a year in prison for his part in that infamous affair.
The Stadium
By 1830 de Berenger appears to have come into a very substantial sum of money, enough to purchase a large estate in the London suburb of Chelsea.
At the time de Berenger bought the property it was a fine estate including a large villa and some eleven acres of picturesque park-land bordering the river Thames. Perhaps in consequence of his interests in marksmanship and athletics, he immediately began work on converting the oak and elm-studded grounds of Cremorne House into an elaborate outdoor training facility for all manner of sports. He installed butts (targets) for archery, pistol and rifle shooting, set aside fields for equestrian training and planned a “floating school of Natation (swimming),” to be set upon pontoons and moored to his pier.
On May 28th, 1831 the Baron issued a prospectus for “THE STADIUM, Cremorne House, Chelsea, established for the tuition and practice of skilful and manly exercises generally.” The Stadium’s motto was “Volenti nihil difficile,” “Nothing is difficult for him who has the will.”
This prospectus and one subsequent were notable for including pictures by both de Berenger himself and his friend, the famous caricaturist and illustrator George Cruikshank.
“How to Protect Life and Property”
In 1835, de Berenger released his second book, “Helps and Hints: How to Protect Life and Property.” His format and style may have been modeled after that of Lord Chesterfield, whose correspondence with his son Philip (dating from 1730) had since been compiled into a popular and controversial volume. In any case, de Berenger chose to frame “How to Protect Life and Property” as a series of letters to his own son, Augustus, advising him on how to prevent or otherwise counter a myriad of potential threats.
Thus, de Berenger’s work may actually be considered as an early ancestor of the modern “self-protection handbook” genre. De Berenger did not simply present a system of, for example, fencing, nor boxing; rather, his lessons addressed self-defence in the broadest sense, including everything from escaping a burning house to numerous tricks of hand to hand combat; from dealing with wild animals to the avoiding the depredations of swindlers and pickpockets, with numerous digressions on the subjects of manly courage and morality.
The book was well-received by most contemporary reviewers, although it was dismissed out of hand by a much later (and deeply unsympathetic) writer as being a “claptrap book of gymnastics.” Several journals noted the Baron’s apparent obsession with moral conduct, which was cast in a rather ironic light by his involvement in the Stock Exchange scandal, but most seem to have taken his unusually florid prose style with amused good grace and to have been genuinely impressed with the scope and detail of his instruction and anecdotes.
In 2008, de Berenger’s writings on self-protection were re-published as “Defensive Gymnastics”, a compilation of the Baron’s advice on the different modes of “manly character”; the use of defensive gymnastics with fists, canes, whips, pistols and umbrellas to thwart pickpockets, street ruffians and con-artists; and how to escape from highwaymen, burning buildings, icy ponds and wild bulls.
The 2008 edition features over 50 new photographs and drawings, an introductory biography and a special feature on the Baron’s Stadium. Here is a short video preview: