Our neighbours on the other side of the English Channel have been accused of calling us a “nation of shopkeepers.” No doubt the definition is not bad; and, so long as the goods supplied bear the hall-mark of British integrity, there is nothing to be ashamed of in the appellation; still, with all due deference, I think we might more appropriately be called a nation of sportsmen.
There is not an English boy breathing at this moment who does not long to be at some sport or game, and who has not his pet idea of the channel into which he will guide his sporting proclivities when he is a man. There are not many grown Englishmen who don’t think they know something about a horse, would not like to attend a good assault-at-arms, or who are not pleased when they hear of their sons’ prowess with the oar, the bat, or the gloves.
I may be quite mistaken, but it always seems to me that the well-brought-up little foreign boy is too unwholesomely good and gentle to fight the battle of life. Still, such little boys do grow up brave and clever men, and they do, taken collectively, make splendid soldiers.
Then, as to sports, foreigners seem to put too much pomp and circumstance into their efforts in pursuit of game; the impedimenta and general accoutrements are overdone; but here again I may be wrong.
Of one thing we may be quite sure, and that is that the majority of Englishmen are devoted to sport of some kind. One of the prettiest little compliments you can pay a man is to call him “a good old sportsman.”
When, in addition to the advantages of a national sport or collection of national sports, such as boxing, sword exercises, wrestling, etc., you recognize the possibility that the games you have been indulging in with your friends in playful contests may at almost any moment be utilized for defeating your enemies and possibly saving your life, you are forced to the conclusion that there are some sports at least which can be turned to practical account.
Unfortunately there are individuals, possibly in the small minority, who regard anything like fighting as brutal or ungentlemanly. In a sense—a very limited sense—they may be right, for, though our environment is such that we can never rest in perfect security, it does seem hard that we should have to be constantly on the alert to protect that which we think is ours by right, and ours alone.
However this may be, let us be men first, and aristocrats, gentlemen, or anything else you please, afterwards. If we are not men, in the larger and better sense of the word, let there be no talk of gentle blood or lengthy pedigree. The nation is what it is through the pluck and energy of individuals who have put their shoulders to the wheel in bygone days—men who have laid the foundation of a glorious empire by sturdy personal efforts—efforts, unaided by the state, emanating from those higher qualities of the character, relying on itself, and on itself alone, for success or failure.
From the earliest times, and in the most primitive forms of animal life, physical efforts to obtain the mastery have been incessant.
Whether it is in the brute creation or the human race, this struggle for existence has always required the exercise of offensive and defensive powers. The individual has striven to gain his living, and to protect that living when gained; nations have paid armies to increase their territories, and retain those territories when acquired.
The exact form of weapon which first came into use will always be doubtful, but one would think that stones, being hard and handy, as well as plentiful, might have presented irresistible attractions to, say, some antediluvian monster, who wished to intimate to a mammoth or icthyosaurus, a few hundred yards distant, his readiness to engage in mortal combat.
Are there not stories, too, of clever little apes in tropical forests who have pelted unwary travellers with nuts, stones, and any missiles which came handy?
Then, coming nearer home, there is the lady at an Irish fair who hangs on the outskirts of a faction-fight, ready to do execution with a stone in her stocking—a terrible gog-magog sort of brain-scatterer.
When man was developed, no doubt one of his first ideas was to get hold of a really good serviceable stick—not a little modern masher’s crutch—a strong weapon, capable of assisting him in jumping, protecting him from wild beasts, and knocking down his fellow-man.
To obtain such a stick the primitive man probably had to do a good deal of hacking at the bough of a hard oak or tough ash, with no better knife than a bit of sharp flint. Having secured his stick, the next thing was to keep it, and he doubtless had to defend himself against the assaults of envious fellow-creatures possessed of inferior sticks.
Thus we can imagine that the birth of quarter-staff play—not much play about it in those days—was a very simple affair; and we recognize in it the origin and foundation of all the sword exercises, and all the games in which single-stick, lance, and bayonet play a prominent part.
As the question of who picked up the first stone and threw it at his fellow-man, or when the first branch of a tree was brought down on the unsuspecting head of another fellow-man, are questions for learned men to decide, and are of no real importance, I shall not allow myself to go on with any vague speculations, but shall turn at once to an old English sport which, though sometimes practised at assaults-at-arms in the present day, takes us back to Friar Tuck, Robin Hood, and
“Maid Marian, fair as ivory bone,
Scarlet and Much and Little John.”
According to Chambers’s “Encyclopædia,” the quarter-staff was “formerly a favourite weapon with the English for hand-to-hand encounters.” It was “a stout pole of heavy wood, about six and a half feet long, shod with iron at both ends. It was grasped in the middle by one hand, and the attack was made by giving it a rapid circular motion, which brought the loaded ends on the adversary at unexpected points.”
“Circular motion” and “shod with iron” give a nasty ring to this description, and one pictures to one’s self half a barge-pole, twirled—“more Hibernico”—with giant fingers, bearing down on one.
Whether the fingers of our ancestors were ever strong enough to effect this single-handed twirling or not must remain a matter of doubt, but we may rest assured that in the quarter-staff we have, probably, the earliest form of offensive weapon next to the handy stone. If Darwin is correct, we can easily imagine one of our gorilla ancestors picking up a big branch of a tree with which to hit some near member of his family. This, to my mind, would be playing elementary quarter-staff, and the game would have advanced a step if the assaulted one—possibly the lady gorilla—had seized another branch and retaliated therewith.
The modern quarter-staff is supposed to be rather longer than the six and a half feet prescribed by the above-quoted authority, and I imagine it originally derived its name from being grasped with one hand at a quarter of its length from the middle, and with the other hand at the middle.
Thus, in the diagram (Fig. 1), if A E represents a quarter-staff eight feet long, divided into four equal two-foot lengths at the points B, C, and D, the idea would be to grasp it with the right hand at D and with the left hand at C; or, if the player happened to be left-handed, to grasp it with the left hand at B and with the right hand at C.
Fig. 1.
This method of holding the quarter-staff may be well enough in certain cases, but it seems to me that, for rapid attack and defence, the hands should be about three feet apart: at D and m, half way between B and C; or at B and n, half way between C and D.
Of course a great deal depends upon the height and strength of the player, but, with the hands at a distance of three feet or so apart, it stands to reason you have a greater command over the ends of the staff than you have if they are only two feet apart, and that you can consequently come quicker into “hanging guard” positions, and more easily defend yourself from short upper strokes and from “points” than you can when you have less command over your weapon.
Fig. 2.—On guard.
Before proceeding to the more technical portions of quarter-staff play, let me say that it is better to bar “points” in a friendly bout, for the weight of a stick, if only a bamboo cane, of eight feet long, is so great, that it is an easy matter to break a collar-bone or rib with a rapid thrust. In any case, remember to be well padded and to have a good iron-wire broad-sword mask on before engaging in a bout.
In dealing with the cuts and thrusts which may be made with the quarter-staff, we cannot do better than consider the ordinary broad-sword target.
In the accompanying diagram are marked the ordinary broad-sword cuts 1 to 4, 2 to 3, 3 to 2, 4 to 1, 5 to 6, 6 to 5, and 7 to 0, the centre of the target.
Fig. 3.
Now, we observe that the guards for these cuts must be such as to ward off the blows in the easiest manner and with as rapid return as possible to the attacking position.
With the quarter-staff in the hands of a right-handed man, the first cut would be from 2 to 3, and the guard for this would be with the staff held in the direction of c to d. Similarly, for cut two, from 1 to 4, the guard would be from a to b.
It must be borne in mind that this second cut, from 1 to 4, is generally delivered with what I shall call the butt of the staff, i.e. with that end which is nearest the right hand, in the case of a right-handed man; and that cut one, from 2 to 3, would be delivered with the butt in the case of a left-handed man.
The two guards above illustrated will almost cover any attack, but not quite.
Fig. 4.—First Hit.
On examining Fig. 8 it will be seen that the guard for the first cut, viz. that from 2 to 3 on the target, is indicated by the position of the staff cd or c´d´. The guard cd meets the three cuts 6 to 5, 2 to 3, and 7 to 0, but is not sufficient to protect you against cut 4 to 1.
Similarly the guard c´d´ answers the purpose as far as cuts 4 to 1, 6 to 5, and 2 to 3 are concerned, but fails to ward off cut 7 to 0; and the same remarks apply to the other side of the target, where ab and a´b´ represent the staff.
Of course the two guards in Fig. 5 may be so used as to meet all requirements, but it is, to my thinking, far preferable to thoroughly master the four as represented in Fig. 9. So doing will give increased command over the staff, and will not in any way detract from speed or general efficiency.
Fig. 5
It will be observed that in the sketches of guard 1 and guard 2, Figs. 6 and 7, the staff is, in each case, too perpendicular for cut 7 to 0; they represent the positions of the combatants when using guards a´b´ and c´d´ in Fig. 8.
I would therefore advise attention to the following diagram, which includes the guards, four in number, which are really sufficient for all hits which can be made with the quarter-staff.
The lines intersecting the circumference of the circle show the inclinations of the staff for guarding all the cuts which can be made.
We now turn to the question of position. In quarter-staff play it is usual for a right-handed man to stand with his left foot in advance of the right, as in boxing or bayonet exercise, and with his toe pointing straight in the direction of his adversary, as in Fig. 2. It is, however, often very advisable to advance the right foot suddenly to the front when bringing the butt of the staff to play on the left side of the enemy’s head or body. As regards “points” it is well to lunge out, as one does when making a left-handed lead-off in boxing, so as to gain somewhat in the reach.
| Fig. 6.—First guard. | Fig. 7.—Second guard. |
Fig. 8.
Points, which, as before hinted, should be used with care in friendly bouts, are generally made with the point of the staff, but may also be effected with the butt; and this is the case when the combatants have come to rather close quarters.
At quarter-staff play the men should be started by the Master of Ceremonies at a distance of ten or twelve feet apart, and when they get to close quarters, or at rough play, they should be immediately separated, as this is a game at which feeling is apt to run somewhat high—occasionally.
Always remember, when guarding points, to do so with that portion of the staff which lies between your hands. This portion really corresponds with the “forte” of a sword or stick. If you have learned fencing with the foils it will be of the greatest possible advantage to you, for you will then understand how slight an effort brought to bear on the foible of your opponent’s staff—in this case it will be somewhere within two feet of the end—will suffice to turn aside the most vigorous thrust.
Fig. 9.—Second hit.
It may not be out of place to add that any man who has gone through any sort of apprenticeship in fencing—either with foils or single-sticks—will not fail, when a quarter-staff is put into his hands, to know what to do with his weapon. He may, at first, feel awkward, and the length of the staff may hamper him and its weight fatigue him, but he will, with his knowledge of general principles, very soon get into the work and enjoy it.
Fig. 10.—Point.
Though the staves used are often made of light bamboo cane, one may get very severe hits and prods, so it is as well, before engaging in an encounter, to have (a) a good mask, such as broad-swordsmen wear; (b) a thick jacket of stout leather, with a high collar; (c) boxing-gloves on both hands; (d) a good pad for the middle of the body, from waist to knee; and (e) cricket pads for both legs, which are apt to come in for nasty jars on or about the knee. Never on any account try to dispense with the pads—they may save you from permanent injury; and do they not add to your good health by promoting a beneficial opening of the sweat-glands?
In quarter-staff, as in stick-play, broad-sword exercise, fencing, etc., it is better to sink down with the knees bent, for in this position you present a smaller area for your opponent to strike at than you do when quite erect.
In leading off it is better to slide the hand which is at m or n (see Fig. 11) down to the hand which is at D or B; you then gain several feet of reach added to your lunge out; only be careful to recover quickly, and get the hand you have thus moved back to its former position.
Advancing and retreating are effected much in the same way as in bayonet exercise; viz. for the advance, move the left foot swiftly forward in the direction of your opponent for a distance of, say, eighteen inches or two feet, following this up with the right foot for the same distance, so that the same relative positions are maintained; for the retreat, move the right foot back the required distance and follow up with the left foot.
In speaking of the retreat, it must be mentioned that, from the great length of the staff, you cannot, very often, get out of the way by the ordinary retreat, as above described, but may have to make an undignified jump back