The Victorian Age
  CAMPECHE STEEL | Prologue | Early Intrigues | The Swashbucklers of Campeche | De Leon's Sword, Bowie's Knife | Revolution | The Republic of Texas | Statehood & Conflict | Civil War | The Victorian Age | The Perfect Exercise | A Sport Evolves | The Goodstein and D'Albergo Years | The War Years & Rebirth | The Van Buskirk & Baird Years | Faces of Post-War Fencing | The Mercado & Reed Years | The Sebastiani Years | The Skopik & Weathington Years | Theatre & Tragedy | Separate Paths | Hamza & HACA | A Time of Rapid Change  

1866-1900

1866: The Southern Migration 

Interestingly, Houston was not a predominantly "southern" town, in terms of heritage or character until after the Civil War. Before the conflict, the citizenry was a typically eclectic mix of pioneers and adventurers, hailing from variety of states and nations. Additionally, Texas was remote, the westernmost state involved in the conflict. While it sent many of its sons and fathers into the conflict, few battles occurred in the state. Texas, therefore, did not suffer anywhere near the physical and economic devastation that most of the rest of the south endured.

A wave of immigrants from the defeated Confederacy began flowing into Texas.

With the close of hostilities, theatre revived in Houston. By February of 1866 the Perkins Theatre was open and ready for business, sort of. The building had actually been finished just before the war broke out. Their first abbreviated season closed in mid-July of the same year with Hamlet, providing a duel of a purely theatrical nature.

Many of those who relocated to Texas during the second half of the 1860s were people of education and, at least prior to the war, wealth.  Members of high society from Virginia, Louisiana, the Carolinas, and Kentucky made a home in Houston. "Society" in the Bayou City became distinctly "southern" for the first time. That "southern" quality, while tempered by the carnage of the recent war, was still dominated by that tendency to notions of honor and to the romanticism typified in the novels of Sir Walter Scott.

In her book, Houston: The Unknown City 1836-1946 (College Station, Texas: Texas A & M University Press. 1991), Marguerite Johnston wrote,

"In that burst of high spirits and extravagance which often seems to follow a war, the social whirl became lavish to the point of absurdity-but great fun. Plantation parties were the rage. On sidesaddle, ladies came wearing plumed hats and riding habits with sweeping trains that almost touched the ground. The lady had to catch her train up over her arm to walk. Gentlemen on horseback, wearing velvet doublets, hose, and plumed hats, jousted, riding at full gallop with fixed lances, aimed at small hanging rings. He who picked off the most rings could crown his lady queen for the day. After the all-day picnic the guests went to the ballet at the newly completed Hutchins House and wound up with a ball where the Virginia reel and minuet were danced in colonial costume."

Whereas the antebellum South, and its survivors, looked back to the fictionalized England and Scotland of Sir Walter Scott for its romantic inspiration, in time later generations would look to the pre-secession South through the lens of romance. The imitator would become the icon.

Ironically, even as Houston became more "southern," the South's propensity for dueling began to wane. Not that the practice was extinct, by any means, the same devastation that forced so many to move west had laid waste to many of the cultural foundations of the duel. First and foremost, much of the current generation of young adult males, the very demographic mostly likely to follow such a reckless and romantic ideal, had perished or been crippled by an even more romantic and reckless pursuit. No doubt many of the survivors had taken their fill of killing and death by war's end. After enduring the killing grounds of places like Gettysburg, shooting or stabbing each other over a careless word must have seemed absurd.

As previously noted, dueling, like slavery, was intricately bound in the southern concept of being a gentleman, a man of property, landed gentry. Both were aspects of a unique American form of feudalism. The slave replaced the medieval serf and the plantation owner the liege lord. Most of the great plantations had been ruined by the war. The slaves had been freed. The survivors had less romantic and more pragmatic concerns, like rebuilding their lives and that of their families.

Dueling would survive into the end of the 19th century, primarily in the environs of New Orleans, but its day had passed.

 

1867: The Forbes Postscript   

After nine long years that spanned the American Civil War, John Forbes was exonerated for a second and final time of the charge he killed an unarmed woman at San Jacinto with a saber. Tired and debt-ridden, Dr. Labadie eventually dropped all charges and testified that his allegations about the commissary general were hearsay. The court cleared Forbes once again and charged him $78.97 in court costs and fined Labadie $141.07. The affair of the murdered dead woman at San Jacinto once again disappeared from the public's eye.

 

1868:   

Bernard Marigny, New Orleans politician and duellist passed away on February 3rd.

 

1869:  

 

 

1870: Peter Robin, Fencing Master  

Across the Atlantic, another round of  "Olympic Games" was staged in Athens. A butcher won the 400-meter race. A laborer won the wrestling event. A stonecutter won the gymnastics event. The embarrassed Greek privileged classes quickly began to champion rule changes. 

Back in Houston, the 1870 census for Harris County listed one Peter Robin and his occupation as "fencing master." According to the census, Robin was 45 years old and had been born in France. At the same address was 14-year-old Victor Robin, presumably a son, who listed his place of birth as Louisiana and who notes that only his father was foreign born. At this time, both lived in Houston's Third Ward.

It would appear, on the face of it, that Peter Robin lived for a time in Louisiana and had a son by an American wife. Indeed, the census of a decade earlier showed a 35-year-old Peter Robin residing in New Orleans.

In New Orleans, the 1870 census listed the occupation of 54-year-old Joseph "Pepe" Llulla, the noted fencing master and duelist as "graveyard keeper." 

 

1871: Dueling Continues     

Dueling continued to be a source of sensational material for the media of the day.  One such item widely covered originated in Havana. It seemed that a quarrel arouse between judges in the halls of the Cuban Supreme Court. Judge Silgar slapped the face of Judge Vasques Quiepo. As a result, on the morning of May 1, 1871 they fought a duel with swords. The result was a slight wound each, after which they retired to share a breakfast. One newspaper noted that the civil authorities were investigating.

Three months later and closer to Texas, there was another rendez-vous to settle a matter of honor. On August 2, 1871 an American broker and Frenchman fought a duel in New Orleans.  The Frenchman was wounded in the sword-arm and shoulder. 

 

1872: Gilbert Rosiere    

Gilbert Rosiere was a fencing master who came to New Orleans before the Civil War and taught fencing to many Creole gentlemen. He first opened a school of fencing, which developed into the "Orleans Fencing Club." The city directory of 1872 gives the address of the club as 150 Royal Street. 

Certainly need for these skills persisted. On April 2, 1872 two men of African descent engaged in a frank encounter with smallswords. One was the son of an internal revenue assessor and the other the son of a customs house official. The quarrel reportedly grew out of testimony given before the Congressional Investigating Committee. The duel ended when one received a slight wound in the breast. 

 

1873:     

 

 

1874: Antonio DeCavero: Galveston's Fencing Master   

Since 1869, Houston's German community had presented a late spring celebration called the Volkfest. The event grew in popularity, attracting thousands of visitors from south Texas. The Volkfest of 1874 took on a tone more akin to the 20th century's Texas Renaissance Festival or Society for Creative Anachronisms. A group attired in helmets and armor, and brandishing swords, staged a mock battle. A reporter, writing in for the May 6, 1874 issue of the Houston Daily Telegraph described it as follows:

"...the knights...driving spurs into their horses' sides, flew over the plain like cavalry in a funeral procession. They drew their swords and flourished them aloft, and then put them back into the scabbards unwet with any considerable amount of gore. Thrice they repeated this manouvre [sic], neither party daring to come within reaching distance of the other's awkwardness. The man with the big axe skirmished around in the high grass, and hunted for a cherry tree to cut down with his little hatchet....

"Soon the knights saw that neither of their sides wanted to fight, they declared an armistice, an[d] agreed to settle the matter at Japhet's lager beer stand."

The German population had made a more serious contribution to modern fencing. The Turnverein movement had caught hold. Branches were set up in most cities with a sizeable German population. These groups were geared to developing the proverbial "healthy mind" via a "healthy body." Gymnastics were the rule and fencing was often a part of the regimen. In the years after the Civil War, many college and sports clubs adopted fencing along with the rest of the Turnverein program.

To the east in the Crescent City, the combat was more serious. On May 8, Swiss-born George H. Grandjean, a civil engineer in his mid-20s, and William Laversche fought a mid-morning duel (10:30 AM) with smallswords at the Globe ballroom, at the corner of Treme and St. Peter Streets. With their seconds and surgeons in place, they calmly came en garde and began.

There were some preliminary feints and advances, then the combat began to heat up. There were a number of passes in the dim light when the seconds called for a halt to the encounter. It was discovered that Laversche was wounded in the stomach, while Grandjean had a shoulder wound. Both wounds were deemed not to be serious. Honor was satisfied and the encounter was ended.

Whether it was in anticipation of one day having to satisfy their own honor, or just for exercise and camaraderie, a number of young men in Galveston had begun flocking to take lessons from one Antonio DeCavero. As a Galveston newspaper noted,

"A very fair audience assembled last evening [October 12, 1874] to witness the grand fencing exhibition given by Mr. Antonio DeCavero and the amateur swordsmen of the city. The gentlemen displayed considerable skill in the management of the foil, while Signor DeCavero handled the weapon in such a manner as to give convincing evidence of what he professes to be, a master of the art. Among the gentlemen who took part were Messrs. Lauve and brother, Evans, Bondies and Walther.

"There were contests with foils, broadswords and quarter-swords, Signor DeCavero taking part quite often and gaining rounds of applause by his scientific manipulations.

"Signor DeCavero has awakened considerable interest among lovers of athletic exercises, and has a class numbering about forty members."

1875: The Bondies-Edwards Duel  

In early September of 1875 a duel between two Texans was fought at Brashear City (later Morgan City), Louisiana. The adversaries were George T. Bondies of Galveston (possibly one of Antonio DeCavero's pupils) and Capt. L. E. Edwards of Austin and it seems the trouble arose over some land warrants. The two had taken a Morgan steamer in Galveston to Brashear City, being obliged to engage in a duel on Louisiana soil in order to escape the stricter Texas laws.

The weapons chosen were small swords. After the very first pass Captain Edwards was wounded in the neck. The wound was not considered mortal, but the loss of blood was such that the seconds declared the duel over. They returned to Texas the following day. 

Separate from its utility in an affair of honor, fencing was also enjoying continued popularity as a worthwhile, even ideal, sport. While no doubt the romantic heritage of fencing added to the interest, the purely physical aspect of fencing was perfectly in keeping with the ideals of the Victorian Age, which saw the rise of amateur athletics.

Of course the one reoccurring ideal was to re-create the Olympic Games of ancient Greece.

After victories in the 1870 Olympic-style competition in Greece of a butcher, a laborer, and a stonecutter, however, the Greek privileged classes changed the rules so that only university men could enter the Games of 1875. Unfortunately, it also caused the quality of competition to decline, and resulted in no additional "Olympics" being held until 1888.

 

1876:    

 

 

1877:   

 

 

1878:  

 

 

1879: Dueling on the Boards 

By 1879, there was good news for Houstonians who preferred duels of a theatrical nature... the city had developed a pair of dueling theatres. Houstonians reaped the benefits of having two large competing theatres. Pillot's Opera House (formerly Perkins Theatre) mounted a season that included Richard III. Perhaps Houstonians like the Battle of Bosworth Field. Its rival, Gray's Theatre, mounted a season that included that stage duelist's favorite, Romeo and Juliet

 

1880: Texas University  

The slow process of civilizing the state continued in 1880. This was the year Texas University in Austin held its first classes. 

The 1880 census lists 36 year old Gustave Rosiere as a fencing master in New Orleans. It listed 64-year-old Joseph "Pepe" Llulla as simply a "proprietor."   

 

1881: The Grand Tournament in Beaumont   

The fashion for chivalric parties and festivals continued into the 1880s. In Beaumont, the 1881 Grand Tournament and Strawberry Festival sponsored by the Ladies' Guild, the Council of Temperance, and the trustees of Magnolia Cemetery, occurred on June 18 in Hebert Park. Henry Solinsky and George White were the co-chairmen. J. F. Lanier, a young attorney, delivered the coronation address. The day was filled with sack, foot, and horse racing, jousting, and similar sporting events. The participants acquired points for each entry. The winner, J. B. Langham, Jr., became the Grand Knight, and as result, promptly selected Miss Zema French as queen of the tournament. The closing hours of the evening were consumed with dancing.

 

1882: Fencing Clubs in New Orleans    

South of Texas came news of a duel in May between two youths near Orizaba, in the state of Vera Cruz. Swords were engaged and both were wounded in the encounter.

Just east of Texas, in New Orleans, fencing continued to enjoy considerable local interest.

Christoval Morel organized the Bayou St. John Fencing Club, June 15th, 1882 and became its president and professor, with Judge A. L. Tissot as Honorable vice-president and Paul L. Fourchy as secretary and treasurer. The club numbered many prominent Orleanians as the original list shows. Twenty-five members composed the club, including M.E. Briere, Paul L. Morel, Raoul Vallon and George Mallard.

Christoval Morel was the moving spirit in the organization, delighting in the test of teaching fencing to young men and to young girls whose company he enjoyed till the ripe old age of 77 years, at which time death claimed him.

Both the Orleans Fencing Club and the Bayou St. John Fencing Club were composed of the elite of Creole element. Occasionally the members of both clubs would visit and fence together. There was no rivalry between them. These exhibitions were based merely for the love of perfecting the art.

The Orleans Club, as the older organization, had enjoyed the honor of having received many fencers of note. The club would give a public entertainment once or twice a year at the Grunewald Hall on Baronne Street (since destroyed by fire). It stood on the site later occupied by the Roosevelt Hotel. The admission was by invitation only. A large and select audience would be present and applauded several fencing bouts between the experts of the club. The French Consul with a committee of judges presided at times and directed the tournament. These were glorious days for fencing, which, in the Crescent City at that time, was a highly appreciated and popular indoor sport.

An anecdote illustrating the skill of Professor Rosiere finds its place here. In one of the exhibitions of the club, Professor Rosiere was to meet at broadswords a French cavalry officer. The officer was over six feet tall and powerful. Rosiere was a slender man, about five feet, six inches. When the men faced each other, the contrast was striking. Confident in his strength, the officer began to make cuts at his opponent as if he meant to annihilate him. Professor Rosiere noticing the vicious attacks of his adversary, suddenly rushed at him and with a series of moulinets, cuts, and thrusts which landed squarely in his chest, forced him off the platform. Prominent fencers from France, Italy, Germany and England went down in defeat before Professor Rosiere, whose thrusts reportedly had the rapidity of lightning.

After the death of New Orleans fencing master Gilbert Rosiere, his son Gustave, who was just as skillful, succeeded him. His club had moved to 629 Royal Street and many fencing exhibitions were mounted there. Gaston Salomon won one held in 1882. 

 

1883: The 87 Minute Duel   

The Fencers' Club, which would later become the oldest continuous running fencing club in America, was founded in New York City. While there were certainly far more salles d'armes in New Orleans, very few were to survive into the 20th century.

In the late 19th century, however, they hung on, due in part the rise in interest in healthy exertion and, in the Crescent City, to a waning but continuing need for the skills they imparted. On September 9, 1883, two young men named Florence and Flannery, who despite their surnames were described in the press as "young Creoles belonging to good social circles," fought a duel with what the newspapers called "straight swords or rapiers."  

Florence, the challenged party, was employed at a "soda-water stand" on Canal Street. The challenger, Flannery, had called for a drink. Upon being served he declared the glass was dirty. Florence disputed his statement, the slur cochon went back and forth. Soon after, Florence received the challenged, which he accepted.

The "straight swords or rapiers" (likely smallswords or epees du combat) were acquired and they met at a place in the rear of Carrolton, an upper suburb. Both were described in the press as "expert swordsmen" and duel is recorded as lasting an exhaustive 87 minutes with no injuries on either side. Finally Florence made "a dextrous thrust" and wounded Flannery in the forearm. Flannery wanted to continue, but their friends intervened and the duel ended with honor satisfied.

 

1884: The Ideal Amazon and the English Scholars   

Fencing was changing, from the skill of the duellist to the playful exertion of the health-minded. Sports and healthy pastimes were all the rage in Victorian America, prodded by the ideals and activities of groups like the German Turn Verein and the YMCA.

Those last decades of the 19th century also witnessed the rise of the celebrated female performer. This was an era that saw Americans and foreigners alike flock to see Annie Oakley shoot and Lillie Langtry sing.

Yet even in that milieu, Jaguarina was... unique.

The adopted stage name of a 20-year-old American named Etta Hattan, she was billed as the "Ideal Amazon of the Age." Whether Hattan was all of that is of course debatable, but she was by all accounts a remarkable and formidable individual. Born in 1864, she joined a touring stock company as an actress. Adding fencing to her repertoire, her first public fight was in Chicago in 1884. She was decidedly Amazon enough to defeat a great many men at mounted broadsword fencing during her 15-year professional career.

On the topic of broadswords, in 1884 Britain's Egerton Castle published a history of European swordsmanship called Schools and Masters of Fence. This was the first major review of European historical swordsmanship, and probably the most influential swordsmanship history of the 19th and 20th centuries.

The same year, another noted Englishman, Richard Francis Burton, published The Book of the Sword, an in-depth examination of swordsmanship in Europe, North Africa, and southwest Asia. It was originally intended as part of a trilogy. Burton was uniquely suited to such a task. Among the most adventurous of an incredibly adventurous generation, he was an explorer, a swordsman, and the first infidel to successfully pass himself off as both an Arab and Muslim so that he reached the Kaaba in Mecca. He was fluent in several languages and the translator into English of both the Thousand and One Arabian Nights and the Kama Sutra.

Unfortunately, The Book of the Sword was released the same year as Castle's better-received work. It sold poorly and Burton never completed the other two books.

 

1885: Laffite Remembered    

In 1885, Mary Campbell, now getting on in years, began to tell stories of Lafitte's men to journalists seeking tales of a romantic past. No doubt her audience was hoping for gory tales of bloodthirsty pirates, but she always maintained that they were privateers who fought under letters of marque from the Republic of New Cartegena.

If cutlasses no longer clashed on Galveston Island, then sword blades still crossed south of the border. On Sunday, February 22, a journalist and physician, both well-known in Mexico City society, had words at a masked ball. The next day they met on the field of honor to cross swords. In the end, the physician was wounded.

Up the coast in New Orleans, a steamboat Captain, J. E. Brau, fought a duel with smallswords against a Mr. Poche, brother of a Supreme Court Justice. Poche received a slight wound. A year later Brau would die in another duel, this one employing pistols.

On May 15, New Orleans saw another duel, between J. B. Leveques, a well-known sugar broker, and Fernaud Armant, a dressmaker formerly with the management of the French opera. They had fallen into a misunderstanding, which had resulted in a blow being passed. This, in turn, resulted in the injured party issuing a cartel. The duel was fought with smallswords at a point on the lakeshore between Milneburg and Spanish Fort.

After some displays of skill and dexterity on both side for about 10-15 minutes, Armant received a serious wound to the right arm. Leveques had sent his point penetrating just above the elbow and emerging through the shoulder of the sword arm of Armant. The seconds declared honor satisfied and both men returned to the city, where Armant's wounds were dressed. 

 

1886: Fencing's Decline in the Crescent City   

In 1886, the French Académie d'Armes made a contribution to the continuing stylization of European fencing by introducing the grand, or formal civil, salute. While on the ground, there were more pragmatic concerns, the effects of the niceties were often manifest by duelists as well as fencers.

Just south of the Lone Star State, a duel, which caused some interest in the press, occurred near Guadalupe, Mexico late in the winter of 1886. The media of the day noted the affair was fought "over a question of business, and a very trifling question, too." The two men crossed swords for about forty-five seconds. At this point the seconds deemed honor satisfied and retired both men from the field without injury. The newspapers added, "The rapiers were carefully wrapped up, and the dauntless duelists, the seconds and physician, rode into town and took a fraternal breakfast at the Concordia. The fighters were Spaniards, a journalist and a merchant."

Just east of Texas, in New Orleans, Gustave Rosiere, like his father, received many challenges as the city's most prominent fencer. One challenge came from an African, who was reputed a champion in fencing. Rosiere accepted his challenge. The exhibition took place at the French Opera House and the victory went to Rosiere.

The last time a public exhibition of fencing was given in New Orleans was in 1886. It was at an athletic tournament given by the Young Men's Gymnasium Club. Two championship medals were offered, one for broadsword won by Charles Massicot, and the other for the foil which was won by J.M. Queyrouze, who was known as the "Southern Champion."

"Fencing will die with me," Gilbert Rosiere had said on his death to Mr. Queyrouze. The prediction must have seemed true. Interest in fencing declined in the Crescent City. At times efforts were made to revive fencing, but they never met with success. Boxing had become the rising sport, being more easily learned than fencing. The club ceased to exist. The membership, very much decreased in numbers, more or less gave up fencing. A small group for a time sought to keep fencing alive, but finally had to give it up.

Farther west, Jaguarina was causing a considerable stir along the Pacific Coast. She had many fights on foot with rapiers but it was her prowess in mounted broad sword combat, which attracted the greatest audiences. While her original trip west was to challenge the noted swordsman Duncan C. Ross, he refused to meet her and her first mounted combat was against Captain J. H. Marshall on July 4, 1886, in San Francisco. Victorious against Marshall, she was again scheduled to meet him but in their second contest she was beaten, 11 to 9 attacks.

Back in Texas, Beaumont's Grand Tournament continued. At the tournament of 1886, C. L. Nash became the champion knight. Miss Lula Langham, "having received the most votes as the prettiest young lady, was crowned queen."

As historian William T. Block, Jr., wrote, "In truth, one can make of early-day Beaumont either a frontier cowtown or a cosmopolitan community, whichever he or she so chooses, and there are sources to support both opinions. The first public hanging in Jefferson County was here in November 1856, but so was the Beaumont Debating Society, which existed from 1855 until 1880. There were also eight saloons and a jail in Beaumont in 1881, but nearby stood eight churches, seven schools, five lodges, a militant Temperance Society, a newspaper, a sheriff's department, and a police station, all dedicated to keeping the transient log rafters, cattle drovers, or any lawless element in check."

Pillot's Opera House in Houston scored a coup in the mid-1880s with the touring production of Alexander Dumas' The Count of Monte Cristo. Starring James O'Neill, father of playwright Eugene O'Neill, this swashbuckling story of revenge impressed Houstonians even more with its special effects. The production was installed in the cramped opera house without having to sacrifice any of the mechanisms that made the Chateau d'If and the star's "miraculous escape" from it, possible.

 

1887: Death by Foil   

On February 12, dueling once more reared its head, this time at the Versailles Plantation in St. Bernard Parish, just below New Orleans. A misunderstanding at the opera had led to the 7AM duel between Robert Roman, son of the Honorable Alfred Roman of the Criminal District Court, and Sidney Louis Theard, a distinguished jurist and author. The chosen weapons were colichemardes.

The two had hardly come "en garde" when they began fencing, as the news account read, "with decided impetuosity." The fencing was so fierce that the seconds separated them three different times. Theard received a flesh wound to the left hand. 

In the course of the third bout Theard received another wound, to the fleshy area between the thumb and index finger of the right hand. At this point the seconds intervened a final time and declared honor was satisfied.

In Houston a much safer duel was on display as that city saw Edward Booth bring his production of Hamlet to Houston. It was successful enough that Houston had its first experience with ticket scalpers during the run. All tickets for the February 23, 1887 show were sold out far in advance. On the day of the show, tickets that had sold for two dollars went for fifteen and, by that same night, twenty dollars each. 

While Hamlet's duel on stage might be thrilling, in New Orleans serious duels continued. This enabled fencing to hang on for a few more years. On April 17, 1887 a number of Creole youths enjoyed a wine supper in a clubroom of the Circle DeGrandissimes, a Creole fencing club at St. Louis and Rampart streets, in the French Quarter. They became drunk and playful. John Fernandez and Henry Bernard spied some fencing foils on the wall and began an impromptu fencing assault.

Newspaper accounts described Fernandez as a large and handsome man. Bernard was said to be frail and undersized. They were also friends and inseparable companions. 

By all accounts, Fernandez was the more accomplished fencer and easily held off Bernard. Inevitably, however, he became careless and left himself open. Bernard, excited, made a furious lunge. Fernandez attempted the parry, but it was insufficient and the tip appeared to land just below his left eye. 

The wound bled but a very little bit and little attention was given it until Fernandez began to complain of a pain in his head. The whole party moved to Charity Hospital to have Fernandez examined, but the boisterous group managed to create a disturbance at the hospital, getting into a row with the medical students and refusing to give up the wounded man's name. A medical student finally came out and examined Fernandez. He pronounced the wound slight and refused to admit the rowdy cadre. 

The party moved on to the Hotel Dieu and managed to create another disturbance. Fernandez collapsed. The now unconscious Fernandez was admitted to the hospital this time. Examining physicians examining Fernandez pronounced the wound fatal. He died an hour later. 

At the autopsy it was determined that the tip of the foil had actually entered the brain and tore through it about four inches. The medical examiners stated it was amazing he lived as long as he did. When the foils were examined, the buttons were still on the tips. They concluded the injuring foil must have been driven by considerable force.  

Henry Bernard was arrested.  

The foolish games of youth notwithstanding, actual duels continued in the Crescent City. On August 5 Emile Revoire, an editor of the L'Opinion and Mr. Larrieu Jr., president of the Club de la Democratic Francais met with smallswords at a place below the slaughter house in St. Bernard Parish. Unlike the young men who managed to kill one of their own with a blunt foil, the result of this encounter was a only slight wound in the chest to Larrieu. 

In Mexico City and its environs, dueling had exploded. In mid-September 1887 a duel with swords had been conducted between two young army officers. Another recent duel with drawn steel had broken out in the public streets only a day or two earlier. 

On the Pacific Coast of California, Jaguarina continued to create a sensation. Besides Duncan Marshall, She met and defeated Sergeant Owen Davis, Captain E. N. Jennings, Xavier Orlofsky, Fred Engelhardt, and Turn Verein instructor Conrad Wiedemann, among others. Many of these men she fought more than once. Her first victory over Wiedemann, for example, was on foot with rapiers in Napa in 1887. 

 

1888: Women and Swords    

Don Pepe Llulla died. 

If Americans saw the death of duelling with the passing of Don Pepe, the Europeans were still quite enamored of the practice. For the decade of 1879-1889, the Italian government reports 2,759 duels. All but about 200 were fought with swords rather than pistols, and fewer than 50 combatants died. 

Back in the New World, you did not always have to be in a duel to face cold steel. Texas newspapers of day recounted an incident on the border, in Matamoros, Mexico on July 25. An older gentleman named Jesus Carpio attacked Tomas Alcala on the street. The trouble between the two was said to have stemmed from a dispute between their respective families. In any case, the elder Carpio employed a sword cane to inflict severe wound upon Alcala. Carpio was arrested. 

Somewhere between the duelists of New Orleans and street brawls along the border was everyone else. The Dallas Morning News "personals" column of March 31, 1888, listed, among the goings and comings of so many others, that "Sergeant Charles Walsh, the noted swordsman, called on The News last night." 

In New York City, James Sullivan established the Amateur Athletic Union (AAU.) In its first year, the AAU held its first fencing championships.

While its stated claim was that it protected athletic amateurism, it did, in practice, discriminate against non-whites and recent immigrants. To answer the problem, African American educators established the Interscholastic Athletic Association in 1905 and the Colored (now Central) Intercollegiate Athletic Association in 1912.

Also in 1888 Professor J. Hartl of Vienna toured America with a "women's fencing" demonstration. The public loved it. Women's fencing classes exploded across America. As a result of the popularity, in turn, newspapers following this new and "sexy" angle, began following the female students around. Women began fencing at private clubs.

Fencing was all the rage.

In America, the most visible female fencer by far was Jaguarina. On October 28, she achieved her most spectacular feat at the Pacific Beach Race Track near Rose Canyon, California in the Jaguarina - Weidermann exhibition.  By this time she was living in Ensenada and spending much of her time in Mexico.

Weidermann was almost a giant in size and an all-round gymnast, besides being a master of both sword and foil. At this time he was physical director of the German-American Turn Verein as well as of the College of Letters at Pacific Beach; this latter was an early-day academy or college, originally built and which occupied the old structure which later became the main building of the Brown Military Academy.

One article of the day estimated that approximately 7,000 persons attended the match.

The fight was divided into eleven rounds (called "attacks") of three minutes each. The fight was described thus by Herbert C. Hensley in an article for the April 1964 issue of the San Diego Historical Society Quarterly,

"The contestants had their "corners" at opposite sides of the enclosure, and at the word rushed upon each other like knights of old. On their big horses, with flashing swords and breastplates, it must have been a thrilling spectacle. Jaguarina, though a large and powerful woman, looking, in her street clothes, what you would call a "stylish stout," was much the smaller. But she made up for that by a tremendous vigor and impetuosity. She constantly forced the fighting, thundering out of her corner and across the field, to meet the captain almost before he was out of his. She wore a French army officer's cuirass, of copper and brass, which blazed in the sunshine, as she came tearing across the lists.

"Of course, both contestants were masked and helmeted, and besides their breastplates, had their sword-arms well padded. But at that, what with the rearing and pawing and snorting of their chargers and the ringing whacks of those sure-enough swords, and the referee and seconds (also mounted) swooping about, it was a gallant sight.

"Captain Weidermann may not have heard of the great reputation of his fair antagonist, for when the contest was proposed he voiced a reluctance to engage in such a rough bout with a woman. And that idea, of chivalry, (though I imagine it did not last long after the first clash of arms), might possibly have had some little effect on his performance at the start of the mill.

"The contest was marked, almost throughout, by good feeling; and altogether so on the part of the principals, except that there was one fiery argument joined in by contestants, referee and seconds, resulting in the change of referee, which so scared Captain Weidermann's second that he dove into the crowd and remained there, perdu, during the balance of the tournament. A Captain Heilbron quickly took his place."

Jaguarina was declared the winner by a final score of 6-5. The article continued,

"Jaguarina remained some time in San Diego. She was talented in other ways than with the sword, and a couple of weeks later took part in an entertainment given by the Turnverein, at Leach's Opera House on D Street, when she sang and posed in classic living pictures. She and Weidermann also appeared in another contest, this time with foils.

"At fencing she showed even greater superiority, winning by a larger margin of points than with the broadsword. These bouts made a great hit and an attempt was made later to bring the two together for a third meeting. But the captain declined. Probably he thought that enough was plenty. Could it have been a rough-and-tumble fight with no holds barred, or a melee with clubs or battle-axes, his chances of victory might have been better; but as it was, apparently the lady was just too fast for him."

1889:   The Galveston Athletic Association  

In the summer of 1887 the Galveston Daily News observed that,

"The Galveston Athletic Association, in the Heidenheimer building, is now fitted up and on Friday night [July 19] will be thrown open to the public and formally opened with a public reception."

The reporter listed the equipment the facility kept on hand,

"bars, trapezes, swinging rings, a large assortment of dumb bells, Indian clubs, boxing gloves, fencing foils, sand-bags, weights, rowing machines, stationary bicycles, sprint running machines and a thousand other things that the average man would never think of."

1890: Six Beautiful Female Fencers 

On January 26 the Galveston Daily News reported that Mr. E. T. Dodds of the Galveston Athletic Association had received, "eleven very handsome gold medals," to be awarded at a tournament planned by the Association for March.  The tournament would include the following competitions: boy's race; boy's club swinging; boy's all-around athletics; wrestling; two-mile run; light-weight sparring; middle-weight-sparring; club swinging; running; heel-and-toe walk; fening; and all-around athletics.

In late December, the Tremont Opera House in Galveston presented the "celebrated" Conreid's Comic Opera Company. Two works were on the bill, Johann Strauss' The Gypsy Baron and Mueller's The King's Fool. The advertisements boasted of 60 talented vocalists, unequalled ensembles and "six beautiful female fencers."

 

1891: The Amateur Fencers League of America    

In early January, a company of players including such noteworthy actors of their day as Frederick Wards and Mrs. D. P. Bowers brought a series of performances to the Tremont in Galveston. A local critic in the Galveston Daily News bemoaned that attendance was not commensurate with the fine quality of the performances. He noted the play choice might have had something to do with it. 

"While the play of Macbeth, however, is one affording splendid opportunities for a double star attraction like this by dividing the starring honors, it can not be said to be one of those that rank among the most popular of the Shakespearean dramas. This may account for the paucity of the audience."

The same critic also noted, "The supporting company is good. Mr. Charles D. Herman making a splendid Macduff, his combat in the finale with Macbeth being a splendid exhibition of swordsmanship." 

Back east, the Amateur Fencers League of America (AFLA) was founded on April 22, 1891 by a group of 108 New York fencers who were left disgruntled by the AAU's choice of direct elimination for their national fencing championships. The new group wanted a tournament structured strictly around round-robin pool fencing. 

The organizers elected Dr. Graeme M. Hammond as their first president. He would continue to hold that office from 1891 to 1925. 

Among other interesting aspects, the first AFLA rulebook stated, "The English language only shall be spoken by the judges during the competition."

Even more unusual, in their first national championships, the winner was not determined by counting the victories, but by calculating the aggregate number of hits in a round robin. There were three judges: one director or president and two side judges. Points were awarded for attack, defense and general good form. The tips of the weapons were chalked. Competitors wore, "a dark fencing suit so that white chalk marks can be easily seen." 

 

1892: The Exaggerated Cheese Knife and the Fencing Master-Forger   

In Texas, during the time leading up to the general excitement of the State Fair, you could never be sure what would show up. An August 21 feature of the Dallas Morning News, detailed the many and varied propositions the state fair committee received, wrote. One wag for the rag wrote,

"A party signing himself Captain E. N. Jennings writes that he is the champion swordsman of the world; that he originated horseback sword contests; that he has just returned from a successful tour of Australia; and he wants to give exhibitions at the Texas State Fair. He closes by saying that his penmanship is no criterion by which to judge of his swordsmanship, by which he perhaps means that the sword is mightier than the pen. It is presumed that his spelling is no evidence of his skill as a sabreur. He will be accommodated and have an opportunity of showing fair visitors what he can do with an exaggerated cheese knife."

Back east fencing had created its own organization, the Amateur Fencers' League of America. For many years thereafter AFLA membership would be heavily concentrated in the metropolitan New York area. Even so, on March 20, 1892, the AFLA created its first two "divisions," regional administrative groups to see to the management of local fencing affairs in other parts of the country outside the New York City region. These first two divisions were for New England and Nebraska.

In 1892, the AFLA also held its first national championships, with competitions in foil, sabre and duelling sword (epee). The competitions were for men, only.

The New York Times of November 1892 noted the growth of fencing in America.

"In San Francisco the Olympic Athletic Club has Tronchet for its master in swordsmanship, and though the sympathies of the majority of members are still with boxing, there is more respect paid to fencing since its virtues have been proved by one member after another. The Salt Lake Fencing Club is a comparatively recent creation, having been founded in 1890. Fencing is an important branch in the Omaha Athletic Club, as well as in the Produce Exchange Athletic Club of Chicago. In Toronto the Fencing Club is of older standing; its former instructor, Mr. Robert Malchien, has recently come to New York and gives private lessons in broadsword, the cane and the foil.

"The New England states are taking to fencing. There are clubs in Boston, Brookline, Cambridge, Williamstown, Fall River, Providence and New Haven which are founded for fencing mainly, or place fencing in the foreground of gymnastic work. Harvard and Yale Universities have begun to form fencing clubs, which are not yet solidly based like the other branches of exercise and sport. But Columbia University manages to keep up her fencing club more or less effectively. In Philadelphia the Fencing and Sparring Club, where Prof. Bonnafous teaches, is not of yesterday, while of late there is fencing at the Pastime Club in Pittsburg and the Athletic Club of the Schuylkill Navy."

Describing the still-fledgling Amateur Fencers' League of America, the article went on,

"The league has a New England division, an Illinois division, an Omaha, a Utah, and so forth, but there are still many states where the athletic and fencing clubs have not yet joined its ranks. Yet in the last year it doubled its membership and seems merely to need a little traveling about on the part of its officers to become very large."

In October of 1892, a Frenchman giving his name as Professor George Buisson arrived in New Orleans from New York City, along with his wife and infant. He displayed letters from prominent citizens of Gotham and a gold medal he stated he had received for service to the French Army. He also described himself as an expert swordsman.

In order to assist him, the New Orleans Fencing Club was organized and based at 7 Carondelet Street. Buisson was put in charge as instructor of the salle d'armes. In a few weeks, the club had reached a prosperous condition and Buisson offered to collect the dues from the members. This was not permitted, though.

He was, however, authorized to contract for necessary work in the club rooms. Ostensibly to pay just such bills, he forged the name of the club president to a check for one hundred dollars, which he then presented as payment for a bill of only thirteen dollars, thus receiving the change as cash. He also presented a forged check bearing the name of a prominent attorney for a bill of ten dollars, receiving nine dollars in cash as change. He forged another check for twenty-five dollars.

By December, the forgeries were discovered and Buisson confronted. He confessed to his indiscretion, but was able to make restitution and, so, allowed to go free. He immediately disappeared from the Crescent City.

 

1893: The Growth of the Fencing Clubs in America   

The final human tie to Galveston's swashbuckling era was finally severed.

Charles Cronea had sailed for Jean Laffite's Capt. James Campbell as cabin boy during the cruise of the Hotspur in 1820. After Laffite had moved on, Cronea moved back and lived the remainder of his life at either Sabine Pass or Rollover, on Bolivar Peninsula. When he died at age 88 on March 4, 1893, Cronea was the last of Lafitte's pirates to be "keelhauled into eternity." He was buried in High Island Cemetery. The Galveston News said of Cronea, "With his death, Jean Lafitte becomes a thing of the past!" 

Even to the east, in New Orleans, the times had become tamer. It did not happen overnight. In 1855 the police began to enforce the laws against dueling. It continued covertly, surreptitiously for many years, despite frequent arrests and prosecutions. Finally the law began to have some effect. There also occurred a loss of interest in the affairs of honor. At last the time came when a man challenged to defend his honor with the sword or pistol, suffered no stigma by refusing an invitation to the Oaks. By the 1890s dueling was only history. 

If the era of the swashbuckler had died and that of the duelist was fading, the fencer as athlete and sportsman was coming into his own. In 1893, over twenty thousand patrons flocked to an international fencing tournament at Madison Square Garden. The contestants fought with sabres on horseback.

A January 1893 article in the New York Times described the fencing scene in New York City and went on to review several other communities.

"In Washington D. C., there is a prospect of the formation of a fencing club since Mr. F. Louis W. Butterfield of the New York Fencers [Club] has settled there. The club once organized at the Russian Legation by Mr. Alexander Greger did not survive the departure of that enthusiastic swordsman, and the new club will doubtless engage the interest of many of the gentlemen on the legations.

"Another new club, but one definitely established, is the Omaha Fencing Club, whose master is Auguste Denis, formerly an assistant in the Fencers' Club here. On the other hand, Mr. Robert Malchien, who has been a teacher of the sword for the last few years in the Toronto club, has left Canada to establish himself definitely in New York.

"Fencing is active at Salt Lake and San Francisco, in Yale University, Harvard and Columbia, but, singularly enough, there is little in New Orleans, where the French element is powerful, and none to speak of in Quebec, which is almost entirely French. The Schuylkill Rowing Club of Philadelphia has taken up fencing, and the Fencing and Sparring Club of that city continues its work under Prof. Bonnafous.

"At West Point and Annapolis the art in its finer form, that of the foil, is little practiced, more attention being given to the ruder play of the broadsword."

If there was "little in New Orleans," part of the problem might have stemmed from the Buisson affair. An April article in the same newspaper, however, indicated there might be some help en route. The article read, in part,

 "M. Theophile Gignac, the French master at arms of the Fencers' Club, has sent in his resignation, and will travel in America, perhaps settling in September at New Orleans, where there is an excellent opening for a capable maitre d'armes to set up a fencing floor of his own and teach at the Orleans Club, the new organization of fencers started in that city."

Gignac was interviewed at some length and gave his views on a host of aspects as regards fencing in America. Some of his observations would echo a century later. When asked what he believed to be the chief defect in American fencers, he stated,

"They use fencing too much as an exercise and too little as a game for intellectual men."

He continued,

"They use the head too little, the muscles too much. That is why boxing is so popular here. Men know that they can tire themselves, exercise their muscles, and get into a profuse perspiration in a few rounds with the gloves. Fewer men know that the same thing can be done even better with the foils. But the interesting side of fencing is the exercise of the fencer's wits, and naturally that is the side of which I, as a maitre d'armes, think most. Now my boldest criticism of the fencing men in New York is that too few of them will make the exertion necessary for this higher kind of fencing; most are content to stick to it for its agreeableness as an exercise."

He was then asked his opinion of the tournaments then being held.

"Well, for one thing, I have no love of the black vest and chalk rubbed on the buttons of the foils. Of what use are these things? We do not so in France. C'est de la pure blaque!"

The reporter asked how, then, could the hit be verified as valid.

"Bah! The judges should be experienced enough to see where a button strikes without needing a chalk mark! Besides, the shock of blades knocks off the chalk, and often a chalk mark on a jacket merely means that the end of the foil has grazed the jacket, there was no point at all!"

It was noted that the chalk mark at least settled decisions by the judges.

"Perhaps, but I would not permit it if the decision lay with me. You see there is need here of good judges, and the chalk does not give them proper freedom. Now in Paris a poorly placed blow which is the result of a clever combination of moves (un coup de jugement) is held by the judges as more deserving than the very best point made without generalship and at random. You can see how the chalk mark may often cut off judges from taking into consideration these fine distinctions which lend so much interest to the game."

A bit later he observed,

"It seems to me that most of them are a little too anxious to get blows in. The counting of points may be a necessary thing, but to amateurs the way a blow is delivered is more important than getting a blow in."

He also observed that,

"the professors hold aloof from each other too much, each in his own little circle of pupils, each jealously keeping that circle away from the others. This is suicidal policy. The teachers of fencing ought to meet each other every week and fence with each other. Every now and then they should bring their pupils together. This would be the manly, the courteous, and, I may add, the common sense method. It would gradually break down jealousies and force all the fencing men, professors and pupils alike, to keep their tempers in control and give credit where credit is due."

Finally, he was asked what he thought of the systems of giving out medals and cups to victors in contests.

"For my own part, it seems a little childish, but I readily see that beginners in fencing might work hard with the prospect of medals and cups before them, who otherwise would be too lazy or indifferent. Yes, I think medals do some good in stimulating beginners. But I should never urge an advanced, a serious, student of the game to bother himself over such things. Fencing is absorbing enough in itself when properly pursued."

1894: Organization  

Fencing was growing in popularity. In 1894 Columbia, Harvard and Yale formed the Intercollegiate Fencing Association (IFA). Annual championships began to be held.

March 30-31 was the date set by the AFLA for that season's fencing championships, to be held in New York City. The preliminary competitions would be held in New York City, Boston, Chicago, Omaha, Salt Lake City, San Francisco and New Orleans. Those preliminaries were to be run by local committees appointed by the AFLA.

The extent of the growth and popularity of fencing could be seen in sharper focus at the Fencers Club in New York City on May 21, 1894. That was the date of the annual meeting of the Amateur Fencers League of America. In addition to the New York Division (the largest), the divisions organized at this point were:

New England Division, with A. H. Howard of the Boston Fencing club at the head;

Philadelphia Division, led by Mr. Arnold of the Fencing and Sparring Club in charge;

Nebraska Division led by George W. Ames of Omaha;

Utah Division, headed by B. J. McConville of Salt Lake City.

On this night's meeting, a Canadian Division was admitted to the league, headed by N. J. Giroux of the Ottawa Amateur Athletic Club. The New York Times reported that,

"Clubs for fencing alone and clubs making fencing a prominent sport are being founded in a number of cities. Buffalo, Providence, Ottawa and Worcester are about to establish such organizations; Montreal, Washington and New Orleans will be heard from next autumn."

The article went further and observed,

"The burning questions of the proper methods of judging contests, and whether chalk should be used on foils to indicate touches, were debated with much spirit...

"The present rules of judging by means of chalked foils and black jackets, the judges being two, with one umpire, have the drawback that the attention of the judges is so fixed on watching for the tell-tale mark of the chalk on the jacket that they do not pay enough attention to a fencer's style and form. On the other hand the method employed in the recent intercollegiate tournament at the Racquet Club, in which white jackets were used and the foils were not chalked, has just the opposite weakness. Judges give too much attention to form and fail to allow enough importance to points."

A committee was appointed to attempt to reconcile these and other drawbacks which had begun to make the judging of tournaments a less than satisfying proposition.

Out west, however, a more old-fashioned encounter occurred. Col. J. H. McLeary was an ex-justice of the United States Supreme Court for Montana during Grover Cleveland's first term and former attorney general of Texas. On June 8, 1894, in San Antonio, he extra-legally came to account with Col. W. H. Brooker, a one-armed former Confederate cavalry officer over a case in federal court. They attempted to settle their differences on the streets in a sword and cane fight.

This was the transitional era, to be sure. American trick shooter Annie Oakley was more commonly associated with firearms than swords. Upon being asked the qualifications of a dead shot, she replied, "I suppose it's a gift, though practice helps." (Oakley regularly fired about 40,000 shots a year from shotguns, plus thousands more from rifles and pistols.) Physical fitness, however, helped her, too. Oakley could run 100 yards in 13 seconds, and her training regimen included walking, swimming, horseback riding, bicycling, fencing, and weight lifting.

Organized fencing as a sport was coming to grips with its nature. Sports have rules and rules must not only be codified and followed, from time to time, they are changed. At a general meeting on October 29, 1894 new rules were passed bearing on touches and the counting of points. For the 1894-1895 season, four judges would conduct all foil competitions. Each competitor would fence a bout with every other fencer to an aggregate of five touches per bout. No touch would be awarded unless agreed upon by at least three of the four judges. Additionally, no discussion concerning touches claimed or made was to be held between the contestant and any judges or amongst the judges.

Each judge would, without discussion with his peers, award from one to three points for each touch made, according to the following values: fair touch was one point; a good touch was two; and excellent touch was three points. Each judge would record the points he gave to each touch as it was made during the bout and at the close of the bout award any contestant one point (or some fraction thereof) for good form. The judge would then sign his form and hand it over to the scorekeeper. No judge would disclose to another judge their awards. The final score would be the average of those awarded.

In foil, the rules now further defined the valid target area. The boundaries of the target now being from the collar of the fencing jacket, down the median line to the hips, then along a line drawn from the hip to the posterior limit of the armpit, curving around the front of the arm and along the crest of the shoulder to the collar.

 

1895:  

 

 

1896: The Waco Sabreuse  

The First International Olympic Games took place in Athens, Greece. The driving force behind these games was the French Baron Pierre de Coubertin. Coubertin revered the ancient Hellenes, and believed that participation in amateur sports was an essential part of a liberal arts education. Coubertin also believed that the games should honor the individual athlete, not the country, and that participating was more important than winning. Therefore, unlike the ancient games, athletes received prizes for second and third place as well as first. Among the competitions at the games of the first Modern Olympiad was fencing. It should come as no surprise that Baron Pierre de Coubertin was himself, a fencer.

On April 7, the foil competitions were held. The first event was the smallest, a masters' foil competition between two men, Leon Pyrgos of Greece and Jean Perronnet of France. Although not an amateur, Pyrgos became the first Greek winner at the Olympics with three touches against his opponent and only one received.

In the individual men's foil event at this first of the modern Olympic Games, there were but eight competitors in men's foil, representing but two nations, France and Greece, with the Frenchman Eugene-Henri Gravelotte taking the gold medal. That night he celebrated his victory by drinking a glass of retzina at the Acropolis. 

Two days later, Olympic fencing gained its first controversy.

Five fencers met for the men's sabre competitions, representing three nations: Greece; Denmark; and, Austria. The competition, in fact, was almost over when King George I of Greece and his entourage arrived. The jury decided to restart the competition from the beginning, so to better entertain the king. The result was profound. Prior to the royal retinue's arrival, Austrian Adolf Schmal had already defeated Ioannis Georgiadis of Greece and Holger Nielsen of Denmark. The second time around he lost to both and wound up in 4th place. Georgiadis, on the other hand, instead of being eliminated, finished in first place.

There were no team or women's fencing competitions at the first games, nor was epee included. 

America did not send any men to the Olympic fencing competitions, but back in Texas, as in the rest of the country, women's interest in fencing was growing. In November, the press discovered Lillian Hart of Waco, dubbed "The Lady Sabreur." The paper reported,

"Mrs. Hart, wife of John P. Hart, entertained a circle of ladies and gentlemen at the Hart residence, No. 823 North Fifteenth street [in Waco], with sword exercise, both rapier and sabre, in a manner that showed her to be a rival of Jaguarina, whose recent exhibitions have given her great prominence in the new amusement adopted by the ladies."

Her parlor was described as "ornamented with foils, masks, plastrons, broadswords, armor, gloves and all the paraphernalia employed in swordsmanship." The paper did note that Mrs. Hart had,

"never yet attempted a combat on horseback such as took place between Mme. Jaguarina and Capt. Xavier Orlofsky, the crack swordsman of Russia." It also noted that, "Jaguarina's measurements greatly exceed Mrs. Hart's. The former weighs 193 pounds. Mrs. Hart weighs 70 pounds less."

The article went on to describe Mrs. Hart's exhibition in mask and plastron and noted that she had received her own instruction from masters and had held her own in bouts with well-trained fencers. She, in fact, popularized the sport in her community. The paper observed,

"The parlor tournaments she has given have caused much enthusiasm among the Waco ladies who take to the new method of pastime with avidity, and are talking of a hall to be devoted to manual exercise with fencing in the lead, to be solely for their use, and to which men will only be admitted occasionally as spectators with special permits in hand and holding themselves ready to be ejected at the word of command when they are no longer wanted."

Mrs. Hart told the press,

"I have become passionately fond of the exercise and am glad to find ladies able to take the foils with me. As a rule I have been matched in my home tournaments against gentlemen. Their wrists are very firm and the touch of swords against a soldier is inspiring."

1897: Fencing Whites  

Although the fact cannot be definitively established, public demonstrations of Thomas Edison's Vitascope in Dallas on February 1 and 2, 1897, were probably the first instances of projected film in Texas. The program at the Dallas Opera House consisted of scenes of a Mexican duel, a lynching, a fire rescue, and Niagara Falls.

In 1897, the AFLA instituted a change of attire for competitors. Previously, fencers wore black fencing suits so that touches from white chalked tips would be visible. Now the call was for white attire, except for epee, which continued with black suits for a few years. 

In August of 1897, members of the Galveston YMCA met in their brand-new facility, largely built by philanthropist Henry Rosenberg. This was an organizational meeting, with different members assuming leadership in organizing and exhibiting the various physical activities, which included fencing.

 

1898: A Fencing Accident Takes the Spotlight  

While the sport of fencing became increasingly popular and further removed from its more homicidal roots, tragedy turned the news media spotlight on an accident that caused a ripple from coast to coast. On September 10, Captain Hippolyte Nicholas, a former officer in the French Army and an avid fencer, was killed while bouting with foils in a salle in New York City.

His opponent, Charles G. Thierolin, was likewise a former French Army officer. Like Nicholas, he was also a fencing master. More tragically, both men were fast friends of many years standing. It was, in fact, their standing custom to meet each evening for a friendly practice bout with foils.

On this evening they fenced alone. Nicholas fenced with his left hand. Thierolin made a thrust. Nicholas was slow in his parry and Thierolin's foil slipped up the sleeve of Nicholas' jacket, striking the collarbone. Five inches of the foil broke off and Nicholas fell to the floor. 

"Have I hurt you?" asked Thierolin.

"No," replied Nicholas, who fell unconscious and died a few minutes later.

Thierolin was arrested.

While the accident jarred the nation's fencing community, examining physicians found only a small tear in the flesh under the left shoulder. All agreed this was not sufficient to cause death. They ultimately determined that death was caused by heart disease exacerbated by the shock of the wound.

 

1899:  

 

 

1900: Murder in Port Arthur  

A sword was featured in a grisly murder along the docks of Port Arthur. On February 1, 1900, Gus Kumbach, of Galveston, who was employed in Port Arthur as a cotton screwer, participated in a barroom brawl in a dive known as the Bucket of Blood. He retired to the bachelor quarters he shared with two other men. His murderer grabbed a sword Kumbach had secured from a ship lately in port. The assailant caught Kumbach in the throat with the sword, the point cutting the jugular vein and passing down into the lungs.

The second Olympic Games were held in Paris.

On May 21, the men's individual foil tournament now drew 54 competitors from eight nations. Frenchman Emile Coste gave France its second gold medal in this event. Eight days later they held the masters' foil competition. In the end, France's Lucien Merignac triumphed in a field of 60 fencing masters from eight countries.

Epee joined its sister weapons in Olympic competitions on June 14. 104 competitors from nine nations met, with victory going to 16-year-old Ramon Fonst Segundo of Cuba. The same day they held the masters epee competition, featuring 54 epee masters from four countries, The victor was Albert Ayat of France, who was, coincidentally, Ramon Fonst's fencing master.

The next day saw an unusual, never held again event: epee for amateurs and masters. There were eight competitors, consisting of the final four of each of the other two epee events. Ayat won handily without receiving a single hit.

On June 25th, 33 fencers from seven countries met to vie for the individual sabre honors, with Georges de la Falaise giving La Belle France another victory. The masters' sabre competition, held two days later, drew 29 masters from seven nations. Antonio Conte of Italy captured first place and Italy's first Olympic medal for fencing. He was followed in second place by his colleague, Italo Santelli.

As with 1896 there were neither women's nor team competitions. Nor did America make a showing.