Two Handed Sword: History, Design and Use

By Neil Melville

The two-handed swords found in modern museums are often so large and elaborately decorated that the onlooker might question whether such an apparently impractical weapon could ever have been a serious weapon of war. Yet during the Late Middle Ages, although never numerous, such weapons could instil dread in those that faced them on the battlefield and in skilled hands posed a very real danger, being capable of inflicting fearsome wounds.Neil Melville explains how, from the late-13th century, technological advances made the development of larger swords requiring both hands both possible and desirable. From their origins in Germany he traces their development and divergence into regional variations. He examines the evidence for their use on the battlefield over 300 years, most notably in the hands of the Swiss, the German landsknechts and the Scottish clans, before considering their later use in fencing and as ceremonial weapons. Practical advice on fighting with the two-handed sword is also given, drawing on contemporary fencing manuals. The detailed and informative text is beautifully enhanced by dozens of illustrations.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Pen and Sword
• Release date: Oct 30, 2018
• ISBN: 9781526733146

Neil Melville

Neil H T Melville cannot remember a time when he was not fascinated by arms and armour and they have become a lifetime interest. This books is the culmination of many years’ research, in the course of which he has visited most of the major arms collections in Europe.He holds degrees from the universities of St Andrews (Classics) and Strathclyde (Italian) and taught Latin, Greek and Ancient History in state schools in Scotland before retiring to concentrate on the study of arms and armour from the time of ancient Greece to the 19th century, but especially the Middle Ages.Practising what he studies, he is a keen fencer (though with a foil and sabre rather than a two-handed sword!). He is also a long-serving member The Earl of Loudoun's Regiment which re-enacts campaigns of the Civil War and the Jacobite Risings. He has also represented Scotland at skiing. He lives in Stirling Scotland.

Book preview

Preface

The two-handed sword of the title denotes not a single sword type but an entire, and very diverse family of swords. Two-handed swords have been a largely neglected subject and Neil Melville has done sterling service in undertaking such a thorough examination. Aside from its many other merits, this work includes a comprehensive taxonomy of the many different forms in which this Leviathan has manifested, including a fascinating classification of regional styles. This book has all the hallmarks of an original work of reference and is unlikely to be surpassed as the ‘go to’ resource on the subject for many years to come. It is a thoughtful, well-written and scholarly study. From the status-proclaiming ostentation of giant bearing swords to the eminently manageable proportions of the longsword, it is difficult to make broad statements about the entire genus. Different types of two-handed sword have to be considered separately. Neil Melville does this.

Of particular interest are his essays on the use of the two-handed sword in combat, whether in battle or for the judicial duel. For the fighting man, the two-handed sword has been frequently the weapon of choice and a majority of the early fencing manuals, from Liechtenauer to Fiore to Talhoffer, focus on its versatile merits. To modern practitioners of HEMA, the two-handed longsword is far and away the most popular weapon, for the simple reason that it offers a sophisticated system of attack and defense that is both gratifying to practise and which makes considerable martial sense. The intricacies of these systems have been written about extensively elsewhere but Mr Melville scores a palpable hit by also providing analysis for the way in which the massive twohanded swords of the sixteenth century were used in battle, against cavalry and amidst pike and shot. He goes on to describe their use in naval warfare where their reach advantaged not only the clearing of decks for boarding actions but also in defense of such assaults.

In combat a two-handed sword offered a wider range of movements by virtue of two hands being able to work in opposition around a fulcrum on the grip; it had greater reach but could also be used in the half-sword mode for closer combat. By virtue of its size, it had greater power than a regular sword. However none of these advantages were available until the turn of the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries, when improvements in steel manufacture first enabled the forging of longer blades. The slag impurities inherent in early bloomery steels presented greater jeopardy of fracture to a blade the longer it was. It was the capacity to produce cleaner steels that led to the ability to forge longer blades. Two-handed swords represented a considerable technological advance in sword-manufacturing technology.

A great deal of sword literature extols the beauty of proportion embodied by the classic arming sword – that is to say a sword worn in a scabbard suspended from a waist belt over a knight’s armour. The arming sword, as befits a sword that is worn to flatter a knightly bearing, has, as its chief aesthetic, harmonious proportion. The ratios of grip length to blade length and of width to length are designed with pleasing geometric precision. Although the same can be said also of many longswords, there is often an apparent awkwardness to the great two-handed swords wielded by Landsknecht and others in the sixteenth century, which has led to a misunderstanding of their manageability. These giants have survived in large number in the arms collections of the world and thereby become the most familiar representatives of the two-handed sword family. With their outsize extravagance they have hijacked the popular imagination into thinking that they are the epitome of medieval clumsiness. It is a confirmation prejudice, akin to believing that castle interiors had grim, grey forbidding walls, rather than being the plastered and painted palaces that they were. Such views of the middle ages are very far from the truth. With regard to the two-handed battle swords of the sixteenth century, these were neither medieval weapons, nor were they clumsy. Their appearance belied the balance and lightness with which they were made. In the right hands, wielded adroitly, they were key weapons on the Renaissance battlefield. They may not always look pretty but they were useful in a fight.

The significance of two-handed swords as proclamations of civic and military authority is well documented in the pages that follow but it is their role as fighting arms that is their chief legacy. Two-handed swords were quintessentially swords of battle, soldier’s swords. The simple fact that they were, mostly, too large to be worn has obscured the extent to which military men favoured them. This book does much to set the record straight and to prompt a re-evaluation of the subject. It is fascinating read and highly commended.

Mike Loades

August 2018

Acknowledgements

I could never have come anywhere near tackling let alone completing this monograph, slim as it is, without the help and encouragement of a number of people. For their professional advice and support I am grateful to Toby Capwell of the Wallace Collection and formerly of the Glasgow Museums, to Bob Woosnam-Savage of the Royal Armouries and also formerly of Glasgow Museums and to Ralph Moffat currently of Glasgow Museums. I am also indebted to David Oliver, proprietor of the Park Lane Arms Fair, who was persuaded to publish in various issues of the handbook to the Fair, inter alia, some of my researches into the English style of two-handed sword; to John ‘Jock’ Holm who ferreted out various amounts of recondite material from libraries near and far; to Tony Willis and Clive Thomas, who indulged me in various discussions; to George Smith, who shares my passion for swords and swordmanship; to fellow enthusiasts on the My Armoury and Vikingsword websites from whom I have learnt much; to my editor at Pen & Sword, Phil Sidnell, who has been very patient with a first-time author; to Claudia Soergel McPhail and Ewing Wallace for translation from German, and above all to my wife, Alison, who not only submitted willingly (albeit with a sudoku or two) to being dragged round countless museums of arms and armour (what else are holidays for?), but also kept my computer on the straight and narrow, managing its sulks with uncanny facility.

Special thanks to the following for generously allowing the use of their photographs of swords which have passed through their hands: Peter Finer Ltd; Galerie Fischer of Luzern; Hermann Historica of Munich; Tony Willis; and Jasper Smit.

Chapter 1

How Two-Handed Swords Differ From Ordinary Swords

The two-handed sword, an object of amazement to present-day museum visitors and an instrument of menace on the battlefields of the late Middle Ages, has had little attention from modern military historians and arms scholars, apart from a handful of short studies such as those by E.A. Gessler: Der Zweihänder, by Clement Bosson: L’Epée à Deux Mains, by Kurt Kamnicker and Peter Krenn: Die Zweihänder des Landeszeughauses in Graz and most recently by Jurg Meier: Zweihänder, von der Waffe zum Symbol.¹ Otherwise it has warranted but a paragraph or two in general works on swords. One reason, perhaps, for its lack of serious consideration in modern times is that the two-handed sword in general has been epitomised by one particular variant, the late sixteenth-century version, of enormous size and elaborate decoration. This has been dismissed as undeserving of attention as a serious and valuable weapon of war, and in consequence the whole type has suffered neglect. Admittedly it seems to have appeared but occasionally from its origins at about the end of the thirteenth century, finding more frequent employment in the hands of the Swiss, the Burgundians and others during the fifteenth century, being adopted by the German Landsknechts in the first half of the sixteenth century, becoming a symbol of power and authority for parades and other ceremonial occasions later in the same century, and finding a niche as a fencing weapon in the seventeenth century.

We can trace the origins and appearances on the stage of history of the two-handed sword in three ways: written references, either specifically to ‘two-handed swords’, ‘épées à deux mains’, ‘zweihänder’, ‘bidenhänder’, ‘spadoni a due mani’, and so on; descriptions of actions which clearly imply their definite use, such as representation of two-handed swords in dated/dateable paintings, manuscript illustrations and sculpture (occasionally on grave effigies); and actual swords which can be dated from marks, inscriptions or features of form and shape. I intend to give an account of all three types of material, suggest likely terminal periods for its working life, describe how it was used and in what circumstances, and propose a typology of its development, both chronological and regional.

Definition

There are numerous surviving examples and equally numerous references in the literature of the thirteenth to fifteenth century to ‘long swords’, ‘great swords’, ‘swords of war’, swords designed to deliver large slashing cuts from horseback with one hand or to be wielded with two hands if necessary on foot, such as those which fit into Oakeshott’s Type XIIIa.² These large swords, with blades of 85–100cm and grips of 15–20cm, are matched by equivalent representations in art. These are the swords referred to in the chronicles as ‘great swords’ or ‘swords of war’ – the terms seem to be used interchangeably, both describing the same weapon, the sword which the knight wielded in battle on horseback. They also appear in the late thirteenth century, before the two-handed sword proper had developed.³ By the fourteenth century chroniclers frequently refer to ‘épées à deux mains’ and ‘twahandswerds’, as they do to ‘espées de guerre’ and ‘grete swerdes’, suggesting a clear distinction. Describing a sword as ‘two-handed’ is as precise as describing it as ‘great’ or ‘war’ is vague.

‘Great swords’ and ‘war swords’, then, are not strictly ‘two-handed swords’, for which I would suggest the following criteria: the two-handed sword must, by reason of its dimensions and weight, require two hands for its effective management. Hence the blade as well as the hilt must be longer than normal, over 100cm. Then the hilt should not merely be long enough to accommodate two hands, but should also enable the two hands wielding it to be spaced far enough apart to give a fulcrum effect, and the greater the possible distance between the hands the more easily could the comparatively long heavy blade be manoeuvred for an offensive cut or a defensive counter-blow. A wide grip like this affords more precise control of the blade and greater speed in the delivery of a cut. This means that the grip of a genuine twohander should be not less than 30cm, and the sword’s minimum overall length about 140cm. In the case of the hand-and-a-half sword, however, the application of the second hand to the end of the hilt, even overlapping the first hand or the pommel, is clearly intended only to add weight to the blow, not to aid in wielding the weapon as such, which can still be managed with one hand. Modern commentaries on the Fechtbücher of the fifteenth and sixteenth century frequently refer to the long swords wielded with two hands by the combatants in the illustrations as longswords. I am inclined to think that this term is used to encompass all the swords, of whatever size and shape, which are depicted in the Fechtbücher, many of which might otherwise be described as ‘bastard’ or ‘hand-and-a-half’ swords. Those ‘longswords’ that clearly require two hands for their effective management, i.e. with blades so long and heavy that they could not be effectively wielded with one hand, and with hilts designed to accommodate two hands spaced apart, I regard as two-handed swords, albeit at the smaller end of the spectrum; I refer to them as such and take some of them as my examples.

A ‘great sword’, c.1270–1350. This is a large example, 130cm overall.

Two further points relevant to the definition of the two-handed sword are the weight of the sword and the ratio of hilt length to blade length. Evidence for the weight of these swords is less accurate where swords have lost their grips and are corroded. Nevertheless it seems that the average weight of a combat two-handed sword of the fifteenth to early sixteenth century is around 3kg.⁴ Some early examples weigh little more than 2kg, such as the twohanded swords recovered from the Castillon hoard, which date to the first half of the fifteenth century,⁵ and few weigh as much as 3.5kg. Heavier twohanded swords, from the later sixteenth and early seventeenth century, exist in considerable numbers, but these are almost certainly parade or ceremonial swords, designed to impress not for battle. It is interesting to look at the ratio of hilt to blade length in swords of different types. It ranges from around 1:5 on ordinary fourteenth to fifteenth-century swords, to around 1:3 or 1:4 on early fighting two-handed swords⁶ to 1:2 in the case of some very late German two-handed swords, many of the Brunswick Ducal Guard swords, for example, nearly all of which weigh 4–4.5kg. In other words the hilt of a genuine two-handed sword should be around a quarter of the total length, often somewhat more and not often less.

A prototype two-handed sword, mid-fourteenth century. It has a longer blade, but the hilt is rather short for efficient two-handed use; 135cm overall.

Another prototype two-handed sword. Note inlaid copper symbols, including a fourteenthcentury helm.

English two-handed sword from the Castillon hoard, before 1453; 148.5cm.

Later fifteenth-century English two-handed sword; 161cm overall.

Early pictorial evidence has to be treated with a great deal of caution; painters and manuscript illuminators sometimes portrayed a clearly twohanded grip on a sword while neglecting to portray a proportionately longer blade. We have to be careful in how far we trust the accuracy of detail in the portrayal of soldiers’ accoutrements, especially when the artist is trying to inject a sense of drama into the scene. Numerous illustrations from the twelfth and thirteenth century depict the use of quite ordinary sized swords with two hands, sometimes overlapping, sometimes close together as with a golf club, sometimes apart but grasping the pommel.⁷

We also have a number of written references to men wielding with two hands swords which, due to the early date of the account, must be ‘war swords’ or ‘grans espées’ (or even ordinary arming swords) rather than actual two-handed swords. Guillaume Guiart, writing in his Chronique (a verse history of the French) in around 1304 described the German cavalry fighting (supposedly in the year 1264, but in fact 1266 at the battle of Benevento) when Manfred, King of Sicily, was defending his kingdom against Charles of Anjou. Guiart, who had fought in the French army at the battle of Mons-en-Pévèle and so presumably knew what he was describing, writes: ‘their two hands raised on high wielded long swords, calmly chopping down in broad strokes’.⁸ This fits with comments by Hugues de Bauçoi, an eyewitness of the battle, about the Germans’ long swords,⁹ and Primatus, a contemporary French monk, who wrote that the French troops of Charles were initially unable to withstand Manfred’s German mercenaries wielding their great cutting swords with both hands.¹⁰ In all these extracts we read of swords being wielded with two hands, not that the swords were necessarily twohanded.¹¹

Two-handed use of a one-handed sword.

It is perfectly comprehensible for a warrior to wield an ordinary sword with both hands when he needs to apply extra force to the blow, just as modern tennis players will often wield the racket in both hands. The need, or desire, to inflict heavier blows with a longer reach led, in about the middle of the thirteenth century, to the development of larger swords, with blades of 85–100cm and hilts of up to 20cm, which could be wielded with one hand or equally comfortably with two. But until the fourteenth century bladesmiths, and armourers in general, were limited by the complexities in the basic processes involved in manufacturing steel and in consequence by the quality of that steel. Removing all the impurities and slag from the raw bloomery iron, while ensuring it absorbed the right amount of carbon, was difficult and expensive, and the longer the strip of steel that was required the more difficult it was to produce a blade without the flaws that could lead to total failure when it was worked in the smithy or wielded in combat. Improvements in the technology of forging steel, such as the development of the blast furnace, meant that fashioning longer blades with the right proportion of stiffness, resilience and hardness without brittleness, consistently throughout the length of the blade, became possible and the need for longer swords could be met in increasing numbers, particularly by the bladesmiths of southern Germany. By the turn of the thirteenth/fourteenth century these improvements in technology, combined with the improvement in the quality of the steel which could now be produced, enabled the forging of specifically twohanded swords.

This technical revolution also saw the development of plate armour beginning from about 1250, but really taking off in the fourteenth century, with the appearance of poleyns and greaves, couters and vambraces, and especially the coat-of-plates, all adding strength to the basic defence of mail. Plate not only afforded better protection than mail against blunt-force trauma (neither mail nor plate could be cut through), but it was also cheaper and easier to produce. It is not unreasonable to suppose that bigger swords were developed, since the technology was increasingly available, to counter stronger armour, although, to judge from literary and pictorial references and the numbers of surviving examples, the two-handed sword was always a much rarer weapon than the ‘great sword’. It would certainly have been more expensive to make and would have needed greater strength and skill to wield it. Not that a larger and heavier sword could in any way cut through or penetrate even low grade plate, but a heavier blow would be more likely to knock unconscious or otherwise disable an armoured opponent by the sheer impact. By far the majority of the soldiers in any mediaeval army, however, would be armoured to a much more basic degree, perhaps no more than open helmet and jack or gambeson, which made them more vulnerable to bigger swords.

Chapter 2

Origin and Development

The available evidence, literary, pictorial and material, is not abundant, but at least it seems to agree that swords which needed two hands in order to be wielded effectively – that is ‘two-handed’ swords as distinct from ‘war’ or ‘great’ swords – were first used in the first half of the fourteenth century. At this point it might be useful to emphasise the distinction between the two classes of two-hander: those designed to be used in combat, whether battle or duel, and those intended purely for display on parade or on ceremonial occasions. The second class survives in far greater numbers than the first, for obvious reasons. These swords were far less likely to be lost, damaged or captured and when not in use were kept securely in their ducal or comital armouries, only being transferred to town halls, museums or salerooms in the nineteenth and twentieth century. It is by luck that as many two-handers of the first class survive as do: for example, the three recovered with the hoard which was lost after the battle of Castillon (1453).

First Appearance

As luck, or the survival of the most significant, would have it, the earliest swords which can be described as two-handed and can be dated reasonably precisely are ones designed for ceremonial purposes, marked with elaborate symbols of royal or aristocratic ownership and many of them too unwieldy to have been used in battle. The material evidence seems to suggest that a small number of these ceremonial two-handed ‘bearing swords’ were in fact produced at the end of the thirteenth century. The Hofjagd- und Rüstkammer (in effect the Imperial Armoury), a section of the Kunsthistorisches Museum in Vienna, possesses a fine, mint-condition blade, which bears the arms of Otakar II Przemysl, king of Bohemia, who was killed in the battle of Durrenkrut in 1278 fighting against Rudolf of Hapsburg. This blade is 141cm long overall (98cm plus a tang of 43cm), and appears never to have been furbished with a hilt and so might have been intended to be mounted as a ‘great sword’, by reducing the length of the tang to fit a shorter hilt. The length of the actual blade is certainly on the borderline between ‘great swords’ and two-handed swords, but this is very early in the development of the two-handed sword.¹ Dating a little later, from the first half of the fourteenth century, is another ‘bearing sword’, which also came from the Imperial Armoury, Vienna, and is now in a private collection.² This too bears the arms of Austria (a shield and helm with a crest of