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The Last Samurai | Ladyfencers series

This time we are leaving Europe to meet a woman who gained her place in the Japanese history at the time of the Boshin War, the civil Japanese war fought between 1868 and 1869 for the restoration of the Imperial authority against the Tokugawa shogunate. ...

Today we’ll tell you about the Last Samurai, Nakano Takeko, who fought following the way of Bushido.

Introduction: A dying wish – Japan, 1868

A disciplined fighter

The temple has been a favourite place of Takeko’s since her recent return to her native Aizu. She spent most of her life in Edo – which now goes with the name of Tokyo – where she trained with Master Akaoka Daisuke in sword, spear and hand-to-hand combat.

And when we say “training” we mean all day, every day, for about ten years straight. This, combined with an uncanny discipline and an innate talent forged one of the most famous female warriors in Japanese history. She excelled in the use of naginata, a weapon that can be described as a wakizashi blade stuck on top of a giant pole.

Onna-musha, combatant women, weren’t at all uncommon but during the late Edo period, peace brought some undesired social effect. As samurais handled pens more often than swords, the absence of wars turned them into bureaucrats, and their female counterparts were gradually submitted into serving their men’s ambitions.

Back to Aizu

But not all of them liked this. Our heroine Takeko was obviously one of them. At the first sign of threat to her liberties she upped and left Edo, moving back to Aizu. At that point she was a certified master and started teaching the art of naginata to the women and kids at the Aizuwakamatsu castle. She even dedicated herself to hunting and prosecuting peeping toms loitering near the women’s bath houses.

It was a momentous time for Japan, 1868 was the start of the Boshin war, a brief civil conflict that defined Japan as we know it. As expected, when Takeko was finding her place in the world, with her privileged status at a noble castle, this is exactly when things go awry.

The War

To make it short: on one corner the Tokugawa shogunate for a traditional old-school samurai country, on the opposite corner the Meiji Emperor team for a modern, open country.
Takeko and her hometown sided for Tokugawa, for the old ways that reflected her way of life and the choices that would consistently accompany her very end.
When the Meiji forces overthrew the Shogun, 30.000 imperial soldiers brought the last sparks of war to Aizu.
Surrendering isn’t an option. Takeko Nakano gathers a Joshitai, a small troop of well trained women, armed with the deadly naginatas. Her mother Kouko and sister Yuko, along with another famous warrior, Yaeko Yamamoto, join her.

The Way of Bushido

It is a hopeless fight: outnumbered five-to-one, and outgunned by professional soldiers with modern rifles, Takeko launches the attack. Because this is the way of bushido.

The soldiers stop shooting, being confused by what exactly is going on. The Joshitai women had styled themselves, hair and clothes, in a suitable battle fashion, and the soldier hesitate, thinking it is probably a motley gang of desperate teenage boys.

The Last Samurai

Only it isn’t a bunch of teenagers. And the soldiers realise that too late. Before they know the Joshitai rain on them a furious whirlwind of poles and blades.
Takeko takes seven of them out before one of the soldiers can get his wits together just enough to load his rifle and shoot her. Point blank right in the chest.

Now Yuko, and some of the surviving Joshitai, have a very narrow window to grant their leader’s wish. Her hands tremble as she lowers the blade to Takeko’s neck. One blow, two blows. Finally she manages to hack her sister’s head off, saving it from becoming a trophy and taking it to the temple for a hasty, but sacred burial.

Shortly after the battle the Meiji era began, heralding the new modern Japan with various reforms like the abolishment of the samurai class. This makes Takeko Nakano one of the Last Samurai.

If you enjoyed the story about Nakano Takeko, you might want to check out our LadyFencers series, where we handpick the most incredible women in history – from noble-hearted ladies to downright nutjobs – who left funny or epic stories behind, for better or worse!
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The Fearless Jouster | Ladyfencers series

"Girls just wanna have fun" sang Cyndi Lauper in the 80's. Breaking the rules is a way to get rid of society's stereotypes and be pioneers of a new thinking generation. We feel like this from time to time, being fencers and swordmakers. But going back to...

Today we’ll tell you the story of an English Fearless Jouster, Lady Agnes Hotot, who left a mark on the thin silver thread between history and legend.

Introduction: England, 1380-1390

Guided by God

«The night before the duel Agnes Hotot was in her room, trying to pray, but could not focus. She was looking at her hands as if prayers could spontaneously spring out of them, but nothing happened. Doubt and worry were clouding her mind. Before that day she never questioned the legitimacy of trial by combat, and she even felt relieved when the long-drawn land dispute between her father and Ringsley was to be concluded in that way. The Hand of God would have guided the righteous man – her father in this case – to defeat the insolent challenger».

His voice rises on the word righteous, triggering a set of approving nods across the tables in front of him. The audience is captured.

«But how would she interpret the illness that struck her father a few days before the duel? The words of her mother were still lingering in the empty room».

The narrator clears his throat, pitching the tone up to imitate a female voice.

«How can you question the Will of God? She said. The illness was sent to test you, and if He wants you taking the place of your father, then you must have faith in Him».

Someone in the audience chuckles, it wasn’t his intention to be funny but a benevolent bit of humour never hurt a storyteller. He picks up the pace from where he left, this time with his own honeyed, firm voice.

«But mother had left after the prayer, and Agnes felt as if she had taken all the certainties of faith with her. She looked at her own hands, not delicate and pale like those of the ladies of Leicester, but thick and reddened by exercise. Because she jousted, and she fenced, since she was just about able to walk. Is this where God is leading me? She thought. Or is this a test, not to challenge His Will?
A few hours later, wide awake in the dark of night, she realised that there was no rational way to solve that. Rather than he should lose the land, or suffer in his honor, she thought, I will take my father’s place».

This time the narrator doesn’t make a thin voice but works a tonal crescendo to punctuate the pathos of the moment, to deliver to his audience the full drama of Agnes’ decision. He loves to tell this story and so many people are staring at him in the banquet hall, silent and wide-eyed.

The Joust

«The following morning Agnes is helped into her armour by her father’s squire. Only he – and few other family members – knows about that, and she chooses an uncomfortable full-helm with just a slit for the eyes, to completely conceal her identity.»

Now it’s time for the narrator to bring his listeners back to where his tale started: to the muddy court with knights and sleepy children.

«The jousters are ready, facing each other at the opposite ends of the court. For a long moment time stands still and in a heartbeat the whole world explodes into Agnes’ helmet.
The thundering hooves, the pounding heart, the bouncing of her body on the saddle. She deflects the first blow with her shield and, on the second charge, everything becomes clear, she can see more than the slit allows her. Her lance crashes so hard on Ringsley’s armour to send him flying and landing with a dull sound in the mud.»

The audience gasps as if they were witnessing the duel in that very moment. The food is now cold on their plates and their drinks all but finished. The narrator leaves this moment linger and holds out a hand to the lady at his right.

The Hotot Knight triumphant

«The Hotot knight turns around, standing a few feet from the defeated enemy, looking at the cheering crowd. Silence falls on the court when the knight removes the helmet to let the long, chestnut-blonde hair flow.
A girl. Fighting. And winning. What they are seeing is so distant from their convictions to make them doubt their own eyes.
What would you have done my friends? Would have you believed that? Perhaps not.»

He grabs a cup of wine and with a sweeping gesture embraces the hall, as if posing the question to each single guest.

«With a quick snap at the leather braces the fearless jouster removes her breast plate, proudly standing atop of her horse, providing the ultimate proof of her true identity and gender.»

The graceful blonde lady sitting by the right of the narrator quietly smiles.

Eterna Vita

«For the imprudent challenger there was no bigger humiliation than being defeated by a woman. For me, Richard de Dudley, Lord of Barnwell and Clopton, there is no bigger honour than being blessed with a life with such a remarkable woman at my side. So much so that, from now, our family’s coat of arms will be modified to accommodate a symbol of this episode of incredible courage and devotion, might this serve as an example to the future generations.»

He embraces his wife and together they raise their cups, immediately followed by all the guests loudly cheering: Eterna Vita to Lady Agnes! Eterna Vita to Lord Richard!

Lady Agnes Hotot Dudley lived a long life, honoured and known as a fearless jouster and possibly the first badass Lady Fencer in history.

If you enjoyed the story about this Fearless Jouster, you might want to check out our LadyFencers series, where we handpick the most incredible women in history – from noble-hearted ladies to downright nutjobs – who left funny or epic stories behind, for better or worse!
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The Duel of Isabella and Diambra | Ladyfencers series

The reasons why women accepted to duel in the past were not that different from the ones that move men. Even if it sounds rare and weird, fierce women fought for their honour. There are peculiar yet fascinating episodes, like the Duel of Isabella and...

Today we’ll tell you the story of a duel for love, pride and honour.
This is the story of the duel of Isabella dè Carazzi and Diambra dè Pottinella, Neapolitan gentleladies. 

Introduction: Napoli, 1552 

The Duel

Fast-forward six days, to the duel that became the social event of the year. The whole court of Naples was there, including the Marquis of Pescara and future Governor of Milan, Francesco Ferdinando d’Ávalos d’Aquino d’Aragona, mingling with common people who put their daily chores on hold for the occasion. Duels weren’t a daily occurrence, but the two women fighting for a man was something unheard of.

They mounted their horses and ferociously charged with lances, ready to knock the opponent off the horse.

After the initial clash, Isabella and Diambra switched to maces to determine the victor of the fight, panting, gasping for some more air before launching another attack.
In that very moment the silence drops amongst the vast crowd witnessing the duel, the only noise is the flapping of matching velvet robes and thundering hooves. Diambra smashed Isabella’s shield in half and knocked her off the horse demanding that she admits that Fabio belongs to her.

Compassion

Diambra looked down at her foe hitting the floor in a tangle of fabric and metal, savouring the victory. But the taste quickly turned sour as she saw Isabella standing up, charging her with a sword and pinning her to the ground. But she didn’t however go further: she adjusted her cloak and sheathed the sword.

‘I am better than that. Who is this man, after all?’ Isabella must have wondered.

‘We are of noble heritage, sophisticated members of the Neapolitan èlite. He… he is just a charmer.’
The love of such a man wouldn’t be enough to justify such violence. This was a matter of honour, pride and chivalry.

A minstrel’s brush

Pride, Honour, Chivarly: words of immense power, yet dark plagues affecting the human soul through the centuries.
This is the story that has been handed down and reached me, a hundred years later.

The intensity of the fight and the chivalrous attitude of those two extraordinary ladies inspired me to paint the Women Gladiators, a large allegory of vice and virtue. Because those fights are destined to be immortal, as a beautifully cruel reminder of the true nature of a duel of honour.  You might have guessed by now that my name is Jusepe de Ribera but you can call me Lo Spagnoletto.

Jusepe de Ribera, called Lo Spagnoletto, famous spanish painter of the 17th century and naturalized Neapolitan citizen, left us an intense painting today preserved in the Museo del Prado in Madrid, making that story immortal.

If you enjoyed the story about this Duel of Isabella and Diambra, you might want to check out our LadyFencers series, where we handpick the most incredible women in history – from noble-hearted ladies to downright nutjobs – who left funny or epic stories behind, for better or worse!
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A Russian Sabre Revenge | Ladyfencers series

Women duellers in the past were quite rare, but not impossible to find. Digging through dusty books and oral history we found more women who grabbed a sword and mastered the art of fencing than official account care to remind us. This is exactly why we...

Women duellers in the past were quite rare, but not impossible to find. Digging through dusty books and oral history we found more women who grabbed a sword and mastered the art of fencing than official account care to remind us.

This is exactly why we created this Lady-Fencers series, to celebrate those peculiar and avant-garde personalities, with blade in hand, through history! We find their stories not only inspiring – it took guts for a woman to hold a sword in those centuries when the meaning of the word “ladylike” was set in stone – but also amusing, mostly due to the reactions of their contemporary men.

Today we’ll tell you the story of not just one, but two all-female duels.
This is the story of a Russian Sabre Revenge.

Introduction: Russia, 1829. 

Olga Zavarova didn’t like Ekaterina Polesova.

They both were healthy property owners, in a province halfway between Moscow and Kiev, and while the Zar Nicolaj I was fighting back the Ottomans with thousands and thousands of soldiers, they were very busy: quarrelling!

God knows why: but they were neighbours and you know how it is. While you might decide to send a stern message to your neighbour that went on all night with a loud barbecue they didn’t. They had their husband’s cavalry sabres at hand, so why not just settling the beef by crossing swords?

The Duel

Apparently the only thing they managed to agree on was the field: The Birch Grove.
Olga was expecting to spill the blood of that annoying WITCH on the ground, once and for all!

The day came. The trees were whispering in the early morning.
Heavy steps approached the battlefield, they weighed like the thousands of Russian soldiers in the War against the Turks. They met with their respective 14 years-old daughters, and the daughters’ governesses as seconds.

According to the Code Duello, the seconds encouraged the mistresses to reconcile and avoid the fight. But the ladies were so riled up that the poor governesses nearly got skewered on the spot.

The fight was brutal. Short but incredibly violent. Olga was hit in the head with a blow so hard and precise to kill her instantly, but not before slashing Ekaterina at the stomach, a fatal wound that would kill her slowly and painfully.

But this story wouldn’t be ended so juicy without another bit of spicy vengeance.

Of course you expected more.
Someone was plotting in the dark. Someone was ready to fight back.
– Beethoven 5th Symphony intro sounding in the background –

The Revenge

5 years later, in that same birch grove, another gauntlet was thrown down.
Because you know, history repeats and we never learn from it.

Alexandra Zavarova and Anna Polesova stood up, facing each other in anger.
If those surnames sound familiar is because they literally are!
The previously mentioned daughters grew up and possibly thought of little else than avenging their respective mothers.
Holding sabres, and with the same governesses as seconds – who, this time, wisely ignored the Code Duello and refrained from trying to stop the duel – they re-enacted the fight, this time with a clearer outcome.

Alexandra killed Anna and redeemed her mother Olga’s honour. And doing so reminded us that the difficulties of neighbouring relationships know no geographical, cultural, or chronological boundaries.

If you enjoyed the story about this Russian Sabre Revenge you might want to check out our LadyFencers series, which we started recently on our social media channels, where we handpick the most peculiar women in history – from noble-hearted ladies to downright nutjobs – who left funny or epic stories behind, for better or worse!
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