VOLUME X SLICE II Fairbanks, Erastus to Fens (continued 11)

Fell, who had never married, died on the 10th of July 1686, worn out, according to Wood, by his overwhelming public duties. He was buried in the divinity chapel in the cathedral, below the seat which he had so often occupied when living, where a monument and an epitaph, now moved elsewhere, were placed to his memory. “His death,” writes John Evelyn, “was an extraordinary losse to the poore church at this time”; but for himself Fell was fortunate in the time of his departure; for a few months more of life would have necessitated a choice, most painful to a man of his character and creed, between fidelity to his sovereign and to his church. With all his faults, which were the defects which often attend eminent qualities such as his, Fell was a great man, “the greatest governor,” according to Speaker Onslow, “that has ever been since his time in either of the universities,” and of his own college, to which he left several exhibitions for the maintenance of poor scholars, he was a second founder. He was a worthy upholder of the Laudian tradition at Oxford, an enlightened and untiring patron of learning, and a man of exemplary morals and great piety which remained unsullied in the midst of a busy life and much contact with the world. A sum of money was left by John Cross to perpetuate Fell’s memory by an annual speech in his praise, but the Felii laudes have been discontinued since 1866. There are two interesting pictures of Fell at Christ Church, one where he is represented with his two friends Allestree and Dolben, and another by Vandyck. The statue placed on the N.E. angle of the Great Quadrangle bears no likeness to the bishop, who is described by Hearne as a “thin grave man.”

Besides the learned works already mentioned Fell wrote the lives of his friends Dr Henry Hammond (1661), Richard Allestree, prefixed to his edition of the latter’s sermons (1684), and Dr Thomas Willis, in Latin. His Seasonable advice to Protestants showing the necessity of maintaining the Established Religion in opposition to Popery was published in 1688. Some of his sermons, which Evelyn found dull, were printed, including Character of the Last Daies, preached before the king, 1675, and a Sermon preached before the House of Peers Dec. 22, 1680. The Interest of England stated (1659), advocating the restoration of the king,3 and The Vanity of Scoffing (1674), are also attributed to him. Fell probably had some share in the composition of The Whole Duty of Man, and in the subsequent works published under the name of the author of The Whole Duty, which included Reasons of the Decay of Christian Piety, The Ladies Calling, The Gentleman’s Calling, The Government of the Tongue, The Art of Contentment, and The Lively Oracles given us, all of which were published in one volume with notes and a preface by Fell in 1684.

Authorities.—Wood’s Athenae Oxonienses and Fasti (ed. Bliss); Wood’s Life and Times, ed. by A. Clark; Burnet’s Hist. of His Own Time, ed. 1833; J. Welch, Alumni Westmonasterienses; Thomas Hearne, Collections, ed. by C.E. Doble and others; History of the Univ. of Oxford (1814); Christ Church, by Rev. H.L. Thompson; Fortnightly Review, lix. 689 (May 1896); Macmillan’s Magazine (Aug. 1875); A Specimen of the several sorts of Letter given to the University by Dr J. F(ell) (1695); Notes and Queries, ser. vi. 2, and ser. vii. 166; Calendars of State Papers, Dom. Series (1660-1675). Fell’s books and papers were bequeathed by his nephew Henry Jones to the Bodleian library. A few of his letters are to be found in Add. MSS. Brit. Mus. 11046, and some are printed in Life of James II., by Ch. J. Fox, Appendix; Gent. Mag. 77, p. 633; Academy, 8, p. 141; Athenaeum for 1887 (2), p. 311; J. Gutch, Collectanea Curiosa, i. 269; and in Cal. of State Papers, Dom. Series.

(P. C. Y.)

1 J.T. Browne, Works (9th ed. by J. Drake), iv. 99-100; T. Forde, Virtus rediviva (1661), 106.

2 Cal. of State Pap. Dom., 1672, p. 478, and 1670, p. 26.

3 F. Maseres, Tracts of the Civil War, ii. 673.

FELL. (1) (Through the O. Fr. fel, from Low Lat. fello, felon), savage, ruthless, deadly; only used now in poetry. (2) (Of Scandinavian origin, cf. Danish fjeld, probably connected with a Teutonic root appearing in German fels, rock), a hill, as in the names of mountains in the Lake District in England, e.g. Scawfell; also a lofty moorland down. (3) (A word common to Teutonic languages, cf. Ger. fell, and Dutch vel, cognate with Lat. pellis, skin), the pelt or hide of an animal, with the hair or wool and skin; also used of any thick shaggy covering, like a matted fleece. (4) To cause to “fall,” a word common to Teutonic languages and akin to the root of the Lat. fallere and Gr. σφάλλειν, to cause to stumble, to deceive. As a substantive “fell” is used of a flat seam laid level with the surface of the fabric; also, in weaving, of the end of the web.

FELLAH (pl. Fellahin), Arabic for “ploughman” or “tiller,” the word used in Arabic-speaking countries to designate peasantry. It is employed especially of the peasantry of Egypt, “Fellahin” in modern English usage being almost equivalent to “Egyptians.” In Egypt the name is applied to the peasantry as opposed to the Arabs of the desert (and even those who have settled on the land), the Turks and the townsfolk. Fellah is used by the Arabs as a term of reproach, somewhat like the English “boor,” but rather implying a slavish disposition; the fellahin, however, are not ashamed of the name and may pride themselves on being of good fellah descent, as a “fellah of a fellah.” They may be classified as Hamito-Semites, and preserve to some extent the blood of the ancient Egyptians. They form the bulk of the population of Egypt and are mainly Mahommedan, though some villages in Upper Egypt are almost exclusively Copt (Christian). Their hybridism is well shown by their great divergence of colour, fellahin in the Delta being sometimes lighter than Arabs, while in Upper Egypt the prevailing complexion is dark brown. The average fellah is somewhat above medium height, big-boned, of clumsy but powerful build, with head and face of fine oval shape, cheek-bones high, forehead broad, short flattish nose with wide nostrils, and black but not woolly hair. The eyebrows are always straight and smooth, never bushy. The mouth is thick-lipped and large but well formed. The eyes are large and black, and are remarkable for the closeness of the eyelashes. The women and girls are particularly noted for their graceful and slender figures and their fine carriage, due to the custom of carrying burdens, especially water-jars, on their heads. The men’s heads are usually shaved. The women are not as a rule closely veiled: they generally paint the lips a deep blue, and tattoo a floral device on the chin, sometimes on the forehead and other parts of the body. All but the poorest wear necklaces of cheap pearls, coins or gilt disks. The men wear a blue or brown cotton shirt, linen drawers and a plain skull-cap, or on occasion the tarbush or fez, round which sometimes a turban is wound; the women wear a single cotton smock. The common fellah’s home is a mere mud hut, roofed with durra straw. Inside are a few mats, a sheepskin, baskets and some earthenware and wooden vessels. He lives almost entirely on vegetables, millet bread, beans, lentils, dates and onions. But some of the sheikhs are wealthy, and have large houses built of crude brick and whitewashed with lime, with courtyard, many apartments and good furniture. The fellah is laborious in the fields, and abominates absence from his occupations, which generally means loss of money to him. Military service on the old oriental plan was both ruinous and distasteful to him; hence voluntary mutilations to avoid conscription were formerly common and the ingrained prejudice against military service remains. Trained by British officers the fellahin make, however, excellent soldiers, as was proved in the Sudan campaigns of 1896-98. The fellah is intelligent, cheerful and sober, and as hospitable as his poverty allows. (See Copts and Egypt.)

FELLENBERG, PHILIPP EMANUEL VON (1771-1844), Swiss educationist, was born on the 27th of June 1771 at Bern, in Switzerland. His father was of patrician family, and a man of importance in his canton, and his mother was a grand-daughter of the Dutch admiral Van Tromp. From his mother and from Pfeffel, the blind poet of Colmar, he received a better education than falls to the lot of most boys, while the intimacy of his father with Pestalozzi gave to his mind that bent which it afterwards followed. In 1790 he entered the university of Tübingen, where he distinguished himself by his rapid progress in legal studies. On account of his health he afterwards undertook a walking tour in Switzerland and the adjoining portions of France, Swabia and Tirol, visiting the hamlets and farmhouses, mingling in the labours and occupations of the peasants and mechanics, and partaking of their rude fare and lodging. After the downfall of Robespierre, he went to Paris and remained there long enough to be assured of the storm impending over his native country. This he did his best to avert, but his warnings were disregarded, and Switzerland was lost before any efficient means could be taken for its safety. Fellenberg, who had hastily raised a levy en masse, was proscribed; a price was set upon his head, and he was compelled to fly into Germany. Shortly afterwards, however, he was recalled by his countrymen, and sent on a mission to Paris to remonstrate against the rapacity and cruelty of the agents of the French republic. But in this and other diplomatic offices which he held for a short time, he was witness to so much corruption and intrigue that his mind revolted from the idea of a political life, and he returned home with the intention of devoting himself wholly to the education of the young. With this resolution he purchased in 1799 the estate of Hofwyl, near Bern, intending to make agriculture the basis of a new system which he had projected, for elevating the lower and rightly training the higher orders of the state, and welding them together in a closer union than had hitherto been deemed attainable. For some time he carried on his labours in conjunction with Pestalozzi, but incompatibility of disposition soon induced them to separate. The scheme of Fellenberg at first excited a large amount of ridicule, but gradually it began to attract the notice of foreign countries; and pupils, some of them of the highest rank, began to flock to him from every country in Europe, both for the purpose of studying agriculture and to profit by the high moral training which he associated with his educational system. For forty-five years Fellenberg, assisted by his wife, continued his educational labours, and finally raised his institution to the highest point of prosperity and usefulness. He died on the 21st of November 1844.

See Hamm, Fellenberg’s Leben und Wirken (Bern, 1845); and Schoni, Der Stifter von Hofwyl, Leben und Wirken Fellenberg’s.

FELLER, FRANÇOIS XAVIER DE (1735-1802), Belgian author, was born at Brussels on the 18th of August 1735. In 1752 he entered a school of the Jesuits at Reims, where he manifested a great aptitude for mathematics and physical science. He commenced his novitiate two years afterwards, and in testimony of his admiration for the apostle of India added Xavier to his surname. On the expiry of his novitiate he became professor at Luxembourg, and afterwards at Liége. In 1764 he was appointed to the professorship of theology at Tyrnau in Hungary, but in 1771 he returned to Belgium and continued to discharge his professorial duties at Liége till the suppression of the Jesuits in 1773. The remainder of his life he devoted to study, travel and literature. On the invasion of Belgium by the French in 1794 he went to Paderborn, and remained there two years, after which he took up his residence at Ratisbon, where he died on the 23rd of May 1802.

Feller’s works exceed 120 volumes. In 1773 he published, under the assumed name Flexier de Reval (an anagram of Xavier de Feller), his Catéchisme philosophique; and his principal work Dictionnaire historique et littéraire (published in 1781 at Liége in 8 volumes, and afterwards several times reprinted and continued down to 1848), appeared under the same name. Among his other works the most important are Cours de morale chrétienne et de littérature religieuse and his Coup d’œil sur congrès d’Ems. The Journal historique et littéraire, published at Luxembourg and Liége from 1774 to 1794 in 70 volumes, was edited and in great part written by him.

FELLING, an urban district in the Jarrow parliamentary division of Durham, England, forming an eastern suburb of Gateshead. Pop. (1901) 22,467. Its large industrial population is employed in the neighbouring collieries and the various attendant manufactures.

FELLOE, the outer rim of a wheel, to which the spokes are attached. The word is sometimes spelled and usually pronounced “felly.” It is a Teutonic word, in O. Eng. felg, cognate with Dutch velge, Ger. Felge; the original Teutonic root from which these are derived probably meant “to fit together.”

FELLOW, properly and by origin a partner or associate, hence a companion, comrade or mate, as in “fellow-man,” “fellow-countryman,” &c. The word from the 15th century has also been applied, generally and colloquially, to any male person, often in a contemptuous or pitying sense. The Old English féolage meant a partner in a business, i.e. one who lays (lag) money or property (féoh, fee) together for a common purpose. The word was, therefore, the natural equivalent for socius, a member of the foundation of an incorporated college, as Eton, or a college at a university. In the earlier history of universities both the senior and junior members of a college were known as “scholars,” but later, as now, “scholar” was restricted to those members of the foundation still in statu pupillari, and “fellow” to those senior graduate members who have been elected to the foundation by the corporate body, sharing in the government and receiving a fixed emolument out of the revenues of the college. It is in this sense that “fellow” is used at the universities of Oxford and Cambridge and Trinity, Dublin. At these universities the college teaching is performed by those fellows who are also “tutors.” At other universities the term is applied to the members of the governing body or to the holders of certain sums of money for a fixed number of years to be devoted to special study or research. By analogy the word is also used of the members of various learned societies and institutions.

FELLOWS, SIR CHARLES (1799-1860), British archaeologist, was born in August 1799 at Nottingham, where his family had an estate. When fourteen he drew sketches to illustrate a trip to the ruins of Newstead Abbey, which afterwards appeared on the title-page of Moore’s Life of Lord Byron. In 1820 he settled in London, where he became an active member of the British Association. In 1827 he discovered the modern ascent of Mont Blanc. After the death of his mother in 1832 he passed the greater portion of his time in Italy, Greece and the Levant. The numerous sketches he executed were largely used in illustrating Childe Harold. In 1838 he went to Asia Minor, making Smyrna his headquarters. His explorations in the interior and the south led him to districts practically unknown to Europeans, and he thus discovered ruins of a number of ancient cities. He entered Lycia and explored the Xanthus from the mouth at Patara upwards. Nine miles from Patara he discovered the ruins of Xanthus, the ancient capital of Lycia, finely situated on hills, and abounding in magnificent remains. About 15 m. farther up he came upon the ruins of Tlos. After taking sketches of the most interesting objects and copying a number of inscriptions, he returned to Smyrna through Caria and Lydia. The publication of A Journal written during an Excursion in Asia Minor (London, 1839) roused such interest that Lord Palmerston, at the request of the British Museum authorities, asked the British consul at Constantinople to get leave from the sultan to ship a number of the Lycian works of art. Late in 1839 Fellows, under the auspices of the British Museum, again set out for Lycia, accompanied by George Scharf, who assisted him in sketching. This second visit resulted in the discovery of thirteen ancient cities, and in 1841 appeared An Account of Discoveries in Lycia, being a Journal kept during a Second Excursion in Asia Minor. A third visit was made late in 1841, after Fellows had obtained a firman by personal application at Constantinople. He shipped a number of works of art for England, and in the fourth and most famous expedition (1844) twenty-seven cases of marbles were despatched to the British Museum. His chief discoveries were at Xanthus, Pinara, Patara, Tlos, Myra and Olympus. In 1844 he presented to the British Museum his portfolios, accounts of his expeditions, and specimens of natural history illustrative of Lycia. In 1845 he was knighted “as an acknowledgment of his services in the removal of the Xanthian antiquities to this country.” He paid his own expenses in all his journeys and received no public reward. Fellows was twice married. He died in London on the 8th of November 1860.

In addition to the works above mentioned, Fellows published the following: The Xanthian Marbles; their Acquisition and Transmission to England (1843), a refutation of false statements that had been published; An Account of the Ionic Trophy Monument excavated at Xanthus (1848); a cheap edition of his two Journals, entitled Travels and Researches in Asia Minor, particularly in the Province of Lycia (1852); and Coins of Ancient Lycia before the Reign of Alexander; with an Essay on the Relative Dates of the Lycian Monuments in the British Museum (1855). See C. Brown’s Lives of Nottinghamshire Worthies (1882), pp. 352-353, and Journ. of Roy. Geog. Soc., 1861.

FELO DE SE (M.L. a felon, i.e. murderer, of himself), one who commits murder upon himself. The technical conditions of murder apply to this crime; e.g., “if one commits any unlawful malicious act, the consequence of which is his own death, as if attempting to kill another he runs upon his antagonist’s sword, or shooting at another the gun bursts and kills himself,” he is a felo de se. The horror inspired by this crime led to the revolting punishment of an “ignominious burial on the highway, with a stake driven through the body.” This was abolished by an act of 1823, which ordered the burial of the body of a person found to be felo de se within 24 hours after the coroner’s inquest, between the hours of 9 and 12 at night, and without Christian rites of sepulture. This act was again superseded in 1882 by the Interments (Felo de se) Act, which permits the interment of any felo de se in the churchyard or other burial ground of the parish or place in which by the law or custom of England he might have been interred but for the verdict. The interment is carried out in accordance with the Burial Laws Amendment Act 1880 (see Burial and Burial Acts). The act does not authorize the performance of any of the rites of Christian burial, but a special form of service may be used. Formerly the goods and chattels, but not the land, of a felo de se were forfeited to the crown, but such forfeitures were abolished by the Forfeiture Act 1870. (See also Suicide.)

FELONY (O. Fr. felonie, from felon, a word meaning “wicked,” common to Romanic languages, cf. Italian fello, fellone, the ultimate origin of which is obscure, but is possibly connected either with Lat. fel, gall, or fallere, to deceive. The English “fell” cruel or fierce, is also connected; and the Greek φῆλυς, an impostor, has also been suggested). Legal writers have sought to throw light on the nature of felony by examining the supposed etymology of the word. Coke says it is crimen animo felleo perpetratum [a crime committed with malicious or evil intent (fee lohn)]. Spelman connects it with the word fee, signifying fief or feud; and felony in this way would be equivalent to pretium feudi, an act for which a man lost or gave up his fee (see Stephen’s Commentaries, vol. iv. p. 7). And acts involving forfeiture were styled felonies in feudal law, although they had nothing of a criminal character about them. A breach of duty on the part of the vassal, neglect of service, delay in seeking investiture, and the like were felonies: so were injuries by the lord against the vassal. Modern writers are now disposed to accept Coke’s definition. In English law, crimes are usually classified as treason, felony, misdemeanour and summary offence. Some writers—and with some justice—treat treason merely as a grave form of felony and it is so dealt with in the Juries Detention Act 1897. But owing to legislation in and since the time of William and Mary, the procedure for the trial of most forms of treason differs from that of felony. The expression summary offence is ambiguous. Many offences which are at common law or by statute felonies, or misdemeanours indictable at common law or by statute, may under certain conditions be tried by a court of summary jurisdiction (q.v.), and many merely statutory offences which would ordinarily be punishable summarily may at the election of the accused be tried by a jury on indictment (Summary Jurisdiction Act 1879, s. 17).

The question whether a particular offence is felony or misdemeanour can be answered only by reference to the history of the offence and not by any logical test. For instance, killing a horse in an unlicensed place is still felony under a statute of 1786. But most crimes described as felonies are or have been capital offences at common law or by statute, and have also entailed on the offender attaint and forfeiture of goods. A few felonies were not punishable by death, e.g. petty larceny and mayhem. Where an offence is declared a felony by statute, the common law punishments and incidents of trial attach, unless other statutory provision is made (Blackstone, Commentaries, iv. 94).

The chief common law felonies are: homicide, rape, larceny (i.e. in ordinary language, theft), robbery (i.e. theft with violence), burglary and kindred offences. Counterfeiting the coin has been made a felony instead of being treason; and forgery of most documents has been made a felony instead of being, as it was at common law, a misdemeanour. At the beginning of the 19th century felony was almost equivalent to capital crime; but during that century capital punishment was abolished as to all felonies, except wilful murder, piracy with violence (7 W. IV. & 1 Vict. c. 88, s. 2) and offences against the Dockyards, &c., Protection Act 1772; and by the Forfeiture Act 1870, a felon no longer forfeits land or goods on conviction, though forfeiture on outlawry is not abolished. The usual punishment for felony under the present law is penal servitude or imprisonment with or without hard labour. “Every person convicted of any felony for which no punishment is specially provided by the law in force for the time being is liable upon conviction thereof to be sentenced to penal servitude for any period not exceeding seven years, or to be imprisoned with or without hard labour for any term not exceeding two years” (Stephen, Dig. Cr. Law (6th ed.), art 18, Penal Servitude Act 1891). A felon may not be fined or whipped on conviction nor put under recognizance to keep the peace or be of good behaviour except under statutory provision. (See Offences against the Person Act 1861, ss. 5. 71.)

The result of legislative changes is that at the present time the only practical distinctions between felony and misdemeanour are:—

1. That a private person may arrest a felon without judicial authority and that bail on arrest is granted as a matter of discretion and not as of right. Any one who has obtained a drove of oxen or a flock of sheep by false pretences may go quietly on his way and no one, not even a peace officer, can apprehend him without a warrant, but if a man offers to sell another a bit of dead fence supposed to have been stolen, he not only may but is required to be apprehended by that person (Greaves, Criminal Law Consolidation Acts). (See Arrest, Bail.)

2. That on an indictment for felony counts may not be joined for different felonies unless they form part of the same transaction. (See Indictment.)

3. That on a trial for felony the accused has a right peremptorily to challenge, or object to, the jurors called to try him, up to the number of twenty. (See Jury.)

4. That a felon cannot be tried in absentia, and that the jury who try him may not separate during the trial without leave of the court, which may not be given in cases of murder.

5. That a special jury cannot be empanelled to try a felony.

6. That peers charged with felony are tried in a special manner. (See Peerage.)

7. That the costs of prosecuting all felonies (except treason felony) are paid out of public funds: and that a felon may be condemned to pay the costs of his prosecution and to compensate up to £100 for any loss of property suffered by any person through or by means of the felony. In the Criminal Code Bills of 1878-1880 it was proposed to abolish the term felony altogether: and in the Queensland Criminal Code 1899 the term “crime” is substituted, and within its connotation are included not only treason and piracy but also perjury.

8. That a sentence of a felon to death, or to penal servitude or imprisonment with hard labour or for over twelve months, involves loss of and disqualification for certain offices until the sentence has been served or a free pardon obtained. (Forfeiture Act 1870.)

It is a misdemeanour (i.) to compound a felony or to agree for valuable consideration not to prosecute or to show favour in such prosecution; (ii.) to omit to inform the authorities of a felony known to have been committed (see Misprision), and, (iii.) not to assist in the arrest of a felon at the call of an officer of the law. (See Criminal law; Misdemeanour; Misprision.)

FELSITE, in petrology, a term which has long been generally used by geologists, especially in England, to designate fine-grained igneous rocks of acid (or subacid) composition. As a rule their ingredients are not determinable by the unaided eye, but they are principally felspar and quartz as very minute particles. The rocks are pale-coloured (yellowish or reddish as a rule), hard, splintery, much jointed and occasionally nodular. Many felsites contain porphyritic crystals of clear quartz in rounded blebs, more or less idiomorphic felspar, and occasionally biotite. Others are entirely fine-grained and micro- or crypto-crystalline. Occasionally they show a fluxional banding; they may also be spherulitic or vesicular. Those which carry porphyritic quartz are known as quartz-felsites; the term soda-felsites has been applied to similar fine-grained rocks rich in soda-felspar.

Although there are few objections to the employment of felsite as a field designation for rocks having the above characters, it lacks definiteness, and has been discarded by many petrologists as unsuited for the exact description of rocks, especially when their microscopic characters are taken into consideration. The felsites accordingly are broken up into “granite-porphyries,” “orthophyres” and “orthoclase-porphyries,” “felsitic-rhyolites,” “keratophyres,” “granophyres,” “micro-granites,” &c. But felsite or microfelsite is still the generally accepted designation for that very fine-grained, almost crypto-crystalline substance which forms the ground-mass of so many rhyolites, dacites and porphyries.

In the hand specimen it is a dull, lustreless, stony-looking aggregate. Under the microscope even with high powers and the very thinnest modern sections, it often cannot be resolved into its components. In places it may contain determinable minute crystals of quartz; less commonly it may show grains which can be proved to be felspar, but usually it consists of an ultra-microscopic aggregate of fibres, threads and grains, which react to polarized light in a feeble and indefinite manner. Spherulitic, spotted, streaky and fluidal structures may appear in it, and many different varieties have been established on such characters as these but without much validity.

Its association with the acid rocks, its hardness, method of weathering and chemical composition, indicate that it is an intermixture of quartz and acid felspar, and the occasional presence of these two minerals in well-defined grains confirms this. Moreover, in many dikes, while the ground-mass is microcrystalline and consists of quartz and felspar near the centre of the mass, towards the margins, where it has been rapidly chilled by contact with the cold surrounding rocks, it is felsitic. The very great viscosity of acid magmas prevents their molecules, especially when cooling takes place suddenly, from arranging themselves to form discrete crystals, and is the principal cause of the production of felsitic ground-masses. In extreme cases these conditions hinder crystallization altogether, and glassy rocks result. Some rocks are felsitic in parts but elsewhere glassy; and it is not always clear whether the felsite is an original substance or has arisen by the devitrification of primary glass. The presence of perlitic structure in some of these felsites points to the latter conclusion, and the results of an examination of ancient glasses and of artificial glass which has been slowly cooled are in accordance with this view. It has been argued that felsite is a eutectic mixture of quartz and felspar, such that when solidification takes place and the excess of felspar (or quartz) has crystallized out it remains liquid till the temperature has fallen to its freezing point, and then consolidates simultaneously. This may be so, but analyses show that it has not always the same composition and consequently that the conditions which determine its formation are not quite simple. Felsitic rocks are sometimes silicified and have their matrix replaced by granular aggregates of cloudy quartz.

(J. S. F.)

FELSPAR, or Feldspar, a name applied to a group of mineral silicates of much importance as rock-constituents. The name, taken from the Ger. Feldspath, was originally written with a “d” but in 1794 it was written “felspar” by R. Kirwan, on the assumption that it denoted a mineral of the “fels” rather than of the “field,” and this corrupted form is now in common use in England. By some of the earlier mineralogists it was written “feltspar,” from the Swedish form fältspat.

The felspar-group is divided into two subgroups according to the symmetry of the crystals. Although the crystals of all felspars present a general resemblance in habit, they are usually regarded as belonging to two systems, some felspars being monoclinic and others anorthic. Figures of the crystals are given in the articles on the different species. Two cleavages are generally well marked. In the monoclinic or monosymmetric felspars these, being parallel to the basal pinacoid and clinopinacoid, necessarily make an angle of 90°, whence the name orthoclase applied to these minerals; whilst in the anorthic or asymmetric felspars the corresponding angle is never exactly 90°, and from this obliquity of the principal cleavages they are termed plagioclase (see Orthoclase and Plagioclase). There are consequently two series of felspars, one termed orthoclastic or orthotomous, and the other plagioclastic or clinotomous. F.E. Mallard suggested that all felspars are really asymmetric, and that orthoclase presents only a pseudo-monosymmetric habit, due to twinning. Twin-crystals are very common in all the felspars, as explained under their respective headings.

The two divisions of the felspar-group founded on differences of crystalline symmetry are subdivided according to chemical composition. All the felspars are silicates containing aluminium with some other metallic base or bases, generally potassium, sodium or calcium, rarely barium, but never magnesium or iron. The monoclinic series includes common potash-felspar or orthoclase (KAlSi3O8) and hyalophane, a rare felspar containing barium (K2BaAl4Si8O24). The anorthic series includes at one end the soda-felspar albite (NaAlSi3O8) and at the other extremity the lime-felspar anorthite (CaAl2Si2O8). It was suggested by G. Tschermak in 1864 that the other plagioclastic felspars are isomorphous mixtures in various proportion of albite (Ab) and anorthite (An). These intermediate members are the lime-soda felspars known as oligoclase, andesine, labradorite and bytownite. There are also placed in the anorthic class a potash-felspar called microcline, and a rare soda-potash-felspar known as anorthoclase.

The specific gravity of the felspars has been shown by G. Tschermak and V. Goldschmidt to vary according to their chemical composition, rising steadily from 2.57 in orthoclase to 2.75 in anorthite. All the felspars have a hardness of 6 to 6.5, being therefore rather less hard than quartz. Pure felspar is colourless, but the mineral is usually white, yellow, red or green. Certain felspars are used as ornamental stones on account of their colour (see Amazon Stone). Other felspars are prized for their pearly opalescence (see Moonstone), or for their play of iridescent colours (see Labradorite), or for their spangled appearance, like aventurine (see Sun-stone).

Felspar is much used in the manufacture of porcelain by reason of its fusibility. In England the material employed is mostly orthoclase from Scandinavia, often known as “Swedish spar.” The high translucency of “ivory porcelain” depends on the large proportion of felspar in the body. The mineral is also an important constituent of most ceramic glazes. The melting points of felspars have been investigated by Prof. J. Joly, Prof. C. A. Doelter y Cisterich and especially by A.L. Day and E.T. Allen in the Geophysical Laboratory of the Carnegie Institute at Washington.

Among the applications of felspar is that of pure orthoclase in the manufacture of artificial teeth.

Felspar readily suffers chemical alteration, yielding kaolin (q.v.). The turbidity of orthoclase is usually due to partial kaolinization. Secondary mica is also a common result of alteration, and among other products are pinite, epidote, saussurite, chlorite, wollastonite and various zeolites.

See Albite, Amazon Stone, Andesine, Anorthite, Bytownite, Labradorite, Microcline, Moonstone, Oligoclase, Orthoclase, Plagioclase, Sun-stone.

FELSTED, or Felstead, a village of Essex, England, between Dunmow and Braintree, and 10 m. from Chelmsford; with a station on the Great Eastern railway. Felsted is only noteworthy by reason of its important public school, dating back to its foundation as a grammar school in 1564 by Richard 1st Baron Rich, who as lord chancellor and chancellor of the court of augmentations had enriched himself with the spoil of the adjoining abbey and priory of Little Leez at the dissolution of the monasteries. It became a notable educational centre for Puritan families in the 17th century, numbering a hundred or more pupils, under Martin Holbeach (1600-1670), headmaster from 1627-1649, and his successors C. Glasscock (from 1650 to 1690), and Simon Lydiatt (1690 to 1702). John Wallis and Isaac Barrow were educated here, and also four sons of Oliver Cromwell, Robert, Oliver, Richard (the Protector), and Henry. Another era of prosperity set in under the headmastership of William Trivett (1745-1830) between 1778 and 1794; but under his successors W.J. Carless (from 1794 to 1813) and E. Squire (from 1813 to 1829) the numbers dwindled. As the result of the discovery by T. Surridge (headmaster 1835-1850), from research among the records, that a larger income was really due to the foundation, a reorganization took place by act of parliament, and in 1851, under the headmastership of Rev. A.H. Wratislaw, the school was put under a new governing body (a revised scheme coming into operation in 1876). The result under Rev. W.S. Grignon (1823-1907), the headmaster from 1856 to 1875, who may be considered almost the second founder, was the rapid development of Felsted into one of the regular public schools of the modern English type. New buildings on an elaborate scale arose, the numbers increased to more than 200, and a complete transformation took place, which was carried on under his successors D.S. Ingram (from 1875 to 1890), H.A. Dalton (to 1906), and F. Stephenson, under whom large extensions to the buildings and playing-fields were made.

See John Sargeaunt, History of Felsted School (1889); and Alumni Felstedienses, by R.J. Beevor, E.T. Roberts and others (1903).

FELT (cognate with Ger. Filz, Du. vilt, Swed. and Dan. filt; the root is unknown; the word has given Med. Lat. filtrum, “filter”), a fabric produced by the “matting” or “felting” together of fibrous materials such as wools, hairs, furs, &c. Most textile fibres (see Fibres) possess the quality of matting to some extent, but wools, furs and some few hairs are the only fibres which can be felted satisfactorily. It is probable that the quality of felting must be attributed to the scale structure and waviness of the wools, furs and hairs referred to. When it is desired to incorporate non-felting fibres in felt cloths, wool must be employed to “carry” them.

There are two distinct classes of felts, viz. woven or “thread-structure” felts, and “fibre” or true felts. In the manufacture of thread-structure felts, wools possessing the quality of felting in a high degree are naturally selected, carefully scoured so that the felting quality is not seriously damaged, spun into woollen yarn possessing the necessary fibre arrangement and twist, woven into cloth of such a character that subsequently satisfactory shrinking or felting may be effected, and finally scoured, milled in the stocks of machine of both, dyed and finished on the lines of an ordinary woven fabric. The lighter styles of woven felts may be composed of a single cloth only, but for the heavier styles two or more cloths are woven, one on top of the other, at one and the same time, arrangements being made to stitch the cloths together during the weaving operation.

Fibre felts are exceedingly interesting from the historical point of view. It is now generally admitted that the art of weaving preceded that of spinning, and it must further be conceded that the art of felting preceded that of weaving, so that the felt fabric is probably one of the oldest of the various styles of recognized fabrics. The inhabitants of the middle and northern regions of Asia seem to have employed felt from time immemorial, as clothing and also as a covering for their habitations. Most of the classical writers refer to it and some of them actually describe its manufacture. Felt was also largely employed by the ancients for their hats, outer garments, and sometimes as a species of armour.

Fibre felts may be divided into three classes, viz. ordinary felts; hat felts; and impregnated felts. As all felts are based upon the ordinary felt, the process of manufacture of this will first be described. Of the wools employed the principal are:—East Indian, German or mid-European, New Zealand cross-breds, and Australian, Cape and Buenos Aires merinos. Vegetable fibres and silk are also employed, but wool must be used to “carry” them; thus a good felting wool may be made to carry its own weight of cotton, hemp, &c. Hairs and furs are principally used in the hat felts. The average loss upon the wool from the raw state to the finished felt is 40 to 50%. The order of the manufacturing processes is as follows:—mixing, willowing, teasing, scribbling and carding. It is interesting to note that it is not usual to scour felting wools. This is not because they are really clean—some are dirty—but because the felting property is liable to be interfered with in the scouring operation. Some wools, however, must be scoured to ensure satisfactory working in the machines. From the card the wool is delivered as a gossamer-like film from 50 to 60 in. wide on to an endless sheet from 30 to 60 yds. long, upon which the felt is built up film upon film until the required thickness—perhaps 4 in.—is obtained. To harden this somewhat tender sheet of felt it is now passed through an ironing process, effected by either steam-heated rollers—to which a rotatory and vibratory motion is given—playing upon the continually drawn-through cloth; or a huge vibrating flat-iron, to which the cloth is automatically fed, held in position and then wound up while the following length to be treated is drawn under the iron. Soaping, fulling or “felting” and the ordinary finishing operations—including dyeing and printing if desirable—now follow, so that ultimately a strong firm fabric is turned out. It must be admitted, however, that the strength is much greater lengthwise than cross-wise, owing to the parallelization of the fibres induced in the scribbling and carding operations. Of course, the true felting or contraction occurs in the fulling or felting stock, the fabric being perpetually “hammered” in the presence of fulling agents such as soap, fuller’s earth, &c., for a considerable time. The reduction in width, length and thickness is remarkable. This may be controlled within certain limits. The principal styles of ordinary fibre-felts are—linings for coats, furniture and rubber shoes; saddlery; seatings for carriages and pews; carpets, surrounds and under-felts for carpets; mantles, dresses and table-cloths; felt-slippers; mattress felts; chest-preservers, and shoulder-pads; steam-engine packing, motor-car and anti-vibration felts, shipbuilding felts; drawing-roller felts and gun-wad felts.

Hat felts may be divided into two classes, viz. those made from wool and fur respectively. Wool “bodies” used for the lower quality hats are manufactured in the same way as ordinary felts, but the “shape” upon which the film issuing from the carder is built up takes the form of a double cone and thus approximates to the shape of the two hats ultimately formed. The shape is further controlled and developed in the fulling or felting operation. In the fur hat felts an air-blast is employed to carry the finely separated fibres on to the shape required, upon which shape the fibres are held in position by suction until the required thickness is obtained. The structure is then further developed and “stiffened,” i.e. impregnated with certain stiffening agents according to requirements. If desirable the exterior fibres blown on to any shape may be of a different material from the body fabric.

Impregnated felts are simply felts made in the ordinary way but subsequently impregnated with certain agents which give a special quality to the fabric. Messrs McNeill & Co., of London, were the originators of “asphalted-felt” for roofing and, among other styles, place on the market sheathing felt, inodorous felt, dry hair felt, foundation felt, &c., &c. A later development, however, is the impregnated iron-felt manufactured by Messrs Mitchells, Ashworth, Stansfield & Co., of Waterfoot, near Manchester, who not only produce from 70 to 80% of the ordinary felts manufactured in Great Britain, but also place on the market several specialties of which this “iron-felt” is largely used in the construction of bridges, &c., and as a substitute for rubber, it being apparently more durable.

(A. F. B.)

FELTHAM, or Felltham, OWEN (d. 1668), English moralist, was the son of Thomas Feltham or Felltham of Mutford in Suffolk. The date of his birth is given variously as 1602 and 1609. He is famous chiefly as the author of a volume entitled Resolves, Divine, Moral and Political, containing one hundred short and pithy essays. To later issues of the Resolves Feltham appended Lusoria, a collection of forty poems. Hardly anything is known of his life except that T. Randolph, the adopted “son” of Ben Jonson, addressed a poem of compliment to him, and became his friend, and that Feltham attacked Ben Jonson in an ode shortly before the aged poet’s death, but contributed a flattering elegy to the Jonsonus Virbius in 1638. Early in life Feltham visited Flanders, and published observations in 1652 under the title of A Brief Character of the Low Countries. He was a strict high-churchman and a royalist; he even described Charles I. as “Christ the Second.” Hallam stigmatized Feltham as one of our worst writers. He has not, indeed, the elegance of Bacon, whom he emulated, and he is often obscure and affected; but his copious imagery and genuine penetration give his reflections a certain charm. To the middle classes of the 17th century he seemed a heaven-sent philosopher and guide, and was only less popular than Francis Quarles the poet.

Eleven editions of the Resolves appeared before 1700. Later. editions by James Cumming (London, 1806; much garbled; has account of Feltham’s life and writings), and O. Smeaton in “Temple Classics” series (London, 1904).

FELTON, CORNELIUS CONWAY (1807-1862), American classical scholar, was born on the 6th of November 1807, in West Newbury, Massachusetts. He graduated at Harvard College in 1827, having taught school in the winter vacations of his sophomore and junior years. After teaching in the Livingstone high school of Geneseo, New York, for two years, he became tutor at Harvard in 1829, university professor of Greek in 1832, and Eliot professor of Greek literature in 1834. In 1860 he succeeded James Walker as president of Harvard, which position he held until his death, at Chester, Pennsylvania, on the 26th of February 1862. Dr Felton edited many classical texts. His annotations on Wolf’s text of the Iliad (1833) are especially valuable. Greece, Ancient and Modern (2 vols., 1867), forty-nine lectures before the Lowell Institute, is scholarly, able and suggestive of the author’s personality. Among his miscellaneous publications are the American edition of Sir William Smith’s History of Greece (1855); translations of Menzel’s German Literature (1840), of Munk’s Metres of the Greeks and Romans (1844), and of Guyot’s Earth and Man (1849); and Familiar Letters from Europe (1865).

FELTON, JOHN (c. 1595-1628), assassin of the 1st duke of Buckingham, was a member of an old Suffolk family established at Playford. The date of his birth and the name of his father are unknown, but his mother was Eleanor, daughter of William Wright, mayor of Durham. He entered the army, and served as lieutenant in the expedition to Cadiz commanded by Sir Edward Cecil in 1625. His career seems to have been ill-starred and unfortunate from the beginning. His left hand was early disabled by a wound, and a morose temper rendered him unpopular and prevented his advancement. Every application made to Buckingham for his promotion was refused, on account of an enmity, according to Sir Simonds D’Ewes, which existed between Felton and Sir Henry Hungate, a favourite of Buckingham. To his personal application that he could not live without a captaincy Buckingham replied harshly “that he might hang.” Whether he took part in the expedition to Rhé in 1627 is uncertain, but there is no doubt that he continued to be refused promotion, and that even his scanty pay earned during the Cadiz adventure was not received. Exasperated by his ill-treatment, his discontent sharpened by poverty, and his hatred of Buckingham intensified by a study of the Commons “Remonstrances” of the previous June, and by a work published by Eglesham, the physician of James I., in which Buckingham was accused of poisoning the king, Felton determined to effect his assassination. He bought a tenpenny knife on Tower Hill, and on his way through Fleet Street he left his name in a church to be prayed for as “a man much discontented in mind.” He arrived at Portsmouth at 9 o’clock in the morning of the 23rd of August 1628, and immediately proceeded to No. 10 High Street, where Buckingham was lodged. Here mingling with the crowd of applicants and unnoticed he stabbed the duke, who immediately fell dead. Though escape would have been easy he confessed the deed and was seized and conveyed to the Tower, his journey thither, such was the unpopularity of the duke, being accompanied by cries of “God bless thee” from the people. Charles and Laud desired he should be racked, but the illegal torture was prevented by the judges. He was tried before the king’s bench on the 27th of November, pleaded guilty, and was hanged the next day, his body being exposed in chains subsequently at Portsmouth.

FELTRE, MORTO DA, Italian painter of the Venetian school, who worked at the close of the 15th century and beginning of the 16th. His real name appears to have been Pietro Luzzo; he is also known by the name Zarato or Zarotto, either from the place of his death or because his father, a surgeon, was in Zara during the son’s childhood: whether he was termed Morto (dead) from his joyless temperament is a disputed point. He may probably have studied painting first in Venice, but under what master is uncertain. At an early age he went to Rome, and investigated the ancient, especially the subterranean remains, and thence to Pozzuoli, where he painted from the decorations of antique crypts or “grotte.” The style of fanciful arabesque which he formed for himself from these studies gained the name of “grottesche,” whence comes the term “grotesque”; not, indeed, that Morto was the first painter of arabesque in the Italian Renaissance, for art of this kind had, apart from his influence, been fully developed, both in painting and in sculpture, towards 1480, but he may have powerfully aided its diffusion southwards. His works were received with much favour in Rome. He afterwards went to Florence, and painted some fine grotesques in the Palazzo Pubblico. Returning to Venice towards 1505, he assisted Giorgione in painting the Fondaco dei Tedeschi, and seems to have remained with him till 1511. If we may trust Ridolfi, Morto eloped with the mistress of Giorgione, whose grief at this transaction brought him to the grave; the allegation, however, is hardly reconcilable with other accounts. It may have been in 1515 that Morto returned to his native Feltre, then in a very ruinous condition from the ravages of war in 1509. There he executed various works, including some frescoes, still partly extant, and considered to be almost worthy of the hand of Raphael, in the loggia beside San Stefano. Towards the age of forty-five, Morto, unquiet and dissatisfied, abandoned painting and took to soldiering in the service of the Venetian republic. He was made captain of a troop of two hundred men; and fighting valorously, he is said to have died at Zara in Dalmatia, in 1519. This story, and especially the date of it, are questionable: there is some reason to think that Morto was painting as late as 1522. One of his pictures is in the Berlin museum, an allegorical subject of “Peace and War.” Andrea Feltrini was his pupil and assistant as a decorative painter.

FELTRE (anc. Feltria), a town and episcopal see of Venetia, Italy, in the province of Belluno, 20 m. W.S.W. of it by rail, situated on an isolated hill, 885 ft. above sea-level. Pop. (1901) 5468 (town), 15,243 (commune). The cathedral has a fine polygonal apse of the 16th century. The Palazzo del Consiglio, now a theatre, is attributed to Palladio. At one end of the chief square of the town, the Piazza Maggiore, is the cistern by which the town is supplied with water, and a large fountain. There are some remains of the medieval castle. The ancient Feltria, which lay on the road (Via Claudia) from Opitergium to Tridentum, does not seem to have been a place of any importance under the Romans. Vittorino dei Rambaldoni da Feltre (1378-1446) was a famous educator and philosopher of his time.

FELUCCA (an Italian word; in forms like the Span. faluca, Fr. felouque, it appears in other languages; it is probably of Arabic origin, cf. fulk, a ship, and falaka, to be round; the modern Arabic form is falūkah), a type of vessel used in the Mediterranean for coasters or fishing-boats. It is a long, low and narrow undecked vessel, built for speed, and propelled by oars or sails. The sails are lateen-shaped and carried on one or two masts placed far forward (see Boat).

FEMALE, the correlative of “male,” the sex which performs the function of conceiving and bearing as opposed to the begetting of young. The word in Middle English is femelle, adopted from the French from the Lat. femella, which is a diminutive, and in classical Latin used strictly as such, of femina, a woman. The present termination in English is due to a connexion in ideas with “male.” In various mechanical devices, where two corresponding parts work within the other, the receiving part is often known as the “female,” as for example in the “male” and “female screw.” The O. Fr. feme, modern femme, occurs in legal phraseology in feme covert, a married woman, i.e. one protected or covered by a husband, and in feme sole, one not so protected, a widow or spinster (see Women and Husband and Wife).

FEMERELL, properly Fumerell (from O. Fr. fumeraille, Lat. fumus, smoke), the old English term given to the lantern in the ridge of a hall roof for the purpose of letting out the smoke of the fire kindled on a central hearth.

FENCING. If by “fencing”—the art of fence, i.e. of defence or offence—were meant generally the dexterous use of the sword, the subject would be wide indeed; as wide, in fact, as the history of the sword (q.v.) itself. But, in its modern acceptation, the meaning of the word has become considerably restricted. The scope of investigation must therefore be confined to one kind of swordsmanship only: to that which depends on the regulated, artificial conditions of “single combat.” It is indeed this play, hemmed in by many restrictions, which we have come to mean more specially by “fencing.” It differs, of course, in many respects, from what may be called the art of fighting in the light of nature. But as its restrictions are among the very elements which work to the perfection of the play, it is undoubtedly in the history of swordsmanship as applied to duelling (see Duel) that we shall trace the higher development of the art.

It may be said that the history of fencing, therefore, would be tantamount to the history of private duelling. Now, this is an ethical subject; one, again, which would carry the investigation too far; and it need not be taken up farther back than the middle of the 16th century, when, on the disuse of the medieval wager of battle, the practice of private duelling began to take an assured footing in a warlike society. It is curious to mark that the first cultivation of refined cunning in fence dates from that period, which corresponds chronologically with the general disuse of armour, both in battle and in more private encounters. It is still more curious to note that, in order to fit himself to meet what was an illegal but aristocratic obligation, the gallant of those days had to appeal to a class of men hitherto little considered: to those plebeian adepts, in fact, who for generations had cultivated skill in the use of hand weapons, on foot and without armour. Thus it came to pass that the earliest masters of fence in all countries, namely, the masters of the art of conducting skilfully what was essentially considered as an honourable encounter, were almost invariably to be found among a somewhat dishonoured gentry—gladiators, free companions, professional champions, more or less openly recognized, or bravoes of the most uncompromising character.

In Germany, which may be considered the cradle of systematic swordsmanship, these teachers of the sword had, as early as the 15th century, formed themselves into gilds; among which the best known were the Marxbrüder, or the Associates of St Marcus of Löwenberg, who had their headquarters at Frankfort, and branches in all the more important towns. Similarly, in Spain and in northern Italy, professional swordsmen were at various times allowed to form themselves into recognized or at least tolerated associations.

In England “swordmen” had been looked upon with especial disfavour by the powers that were, until Henry VIII., who was a great lover of all manly exercises, found it likewise advisable to turn their obnoxious existence to a disciplined and profitable channel by regularizing their position. The most redoubtable masters were allowed to form themselves into a company, with powers to increase their numbers with suitable and duly tried men, in imitation of the world-famed German Marxbrüder or Marcusbrüder. Under these conditions they were granted the lucrative monopoly of teaching the art of fight in England. The enormous privileges that the king, in course of time, conferred on his Corporation of Masters of Defence very soon enabled it to put down or absorb all the more ferocious of independent swashbucklers, and thereby to impart to the profession a moderate degree of respectability under the coat of arms granted by the royal heralds: gules a sword pendant argent.

It was in the midst of such corporations and in the fighting dens of independent swordsmen, therefore, that sprouted the first buds of systematic swordsmanship. Among the professional fencers, curiously and happily for the historian, there seem to have been a few with a literary turn of mind.

The oldest manuscripts of fence belong to Italy and Germany. They deal with the methods of carrying out single combats on foot, with any of the most generally accepted weapons—long sword and short sword, dagger and every kind of knives, mace, long and short staff, axes, &c.,—and with the tricks of wrestling recommendable therefor. Among the most comprehensive in their scope may be mentioned Il Fior di battaglia di Maestro Fiore dei Liberi da Premariaco; a work which, although illustrated with truly Italian taste and grace, shows, as far as its fighting style is concerned, unmistakable marks of German influence. The text of the MS. bears the date 1410, but the writer was known to be flourishing as a master of fence as early as 1383. A reprint of this invaluable codex has been published, under the care of Francesco Donati, by the Istituto Italiano d’ Arti Grafiche. Another is the better known Thalhofer’s Fecht Buch, gerichtliche und andere Zweykämpfe darstellend (1467), a reprint of which, with its 268 plates in facsimile, was brought out by Gustave Hergsell in Prague. The oldest printed book is likewise German: Ergründung der ritterlicher Kunst der Fechterei, von Andreas Paurnfeindt, Freifechter zu Wien (1516). This work, which is exceedingly rare, is a very complete exponent of the ways of wielding long and short blades to the utmost of their lethal capacity. It was reproduced (under various titles, very confusing to the bibliographer) in Frankfort, Augsburg, Strassburg, and finally done into French under the name of La Noble science des joueurs d’épée, published in Paris and Antwerp, 1535.

Following the Germans, the oldest printed books of fence are Italian. The first French book on the sword is known to be a translation from the German. Curiously enough, the second, and one of the most notable, Le Traité de l’épée seule, mère de toutes armes, of the Sieur de St Didier, published in Paris in 1573, can be shown to be a transparent adaptation of two Italian treatises, the Trattato di scienza d’ arme of Camillo Agrippa, and Grassi’s Ragione di adoperar sicuramente l’arme, &c.

It is about this time, namely, the latter half of the 16th century, that swordsmanship pure and simple may be said to find its origin; for then a great change is perceptible in the nature and tendency of fence books: they dissociate themselves from indecorous wrestling tricks, and approximate more and more to the consideration of what we understand by swordsmanship. The older works expounded the art of fighting generally; taught the reader a number of valuable, if not “gentlemanlike,” dodges for overcoming an adversary at all manner of weapons: now the lucubrations of fence-masters deal almost exclusively with the walking sword, that is, the duelling weapon—with the rapier in fact, both with and without its lieutenant, the dagger.

It must be remembered that at this period private duelling and cavalier quarrelsomeness amounted to a perfect mania. The fencing master was no longer merely a teacher of efficacious, if rascally, tricks; he was becoming a model of gallant deportment; in many cases he was even a recognized arbiter on matters of honour. He was often a gentleman himself: at all events he posed as such.

Although the Germans were always redoubtable adepts at the rougher games of swordsmanship, it is in Italy that is to be found development of that nimbler, more regulated, more cunning, better controlled, kind of play which we have learned to associate with the term “fencing.” It was from Italy that the art of fence first spread over Europe: not from Spain, as it has been asserted by many writers. The Italians—if we take their early books as evidence, and the fact that their phraseology was adopted by all Europe—were the first to perceive (as soon as the problem of armour-breaking ceased to be the most important one in fight) the superior efficiency of the point. They accordingly reduced the breadth of their sword, modified the hilt portion thereof to admit of readier thrust action, and relegated the cut to quite a secondary position in their system. With this lighter weapon they devised in course of time that brilliant cunning play known as rapier fence.

The rapier was ultimately adopted everywhere by men of courtly habit; but, in England at least, it was not accepted without murmur and vituperation from the older fighting class of swordsmen, especially from the members and admirers of the English Corporation of Defence Masters. As a body Englishmen were as conservative then as they are now. They knew the value of what they had as their own, and distrusted innovations, especially from foreign quarters. The old sword and the buckler were reckoned as your true English weapons: they always went together—in fact sword and buckler play in the 16th century was evidently held to be as national a game as boxing came to be in a later age. Many are the allusions in contemporary dramatic literature to this characteristic national distrust of continental innovations. There is the well-known passage in Porter’s play, The Two Angry Women of Abingdon, for instance: “Sword and buckler fight,” says a sturdy Briton (in much the same tone of disgust as a British lover of fisticuffs might now assume when talking of a French “Mounseer’s” foil play), “begins to grow out of use. I am sorry for it. I shall never see good manhood again. If it be once gone, this poking fight with rapier and dagger will come up. Then the tall man (that is, a courageous man and a good sword-and-buckler man) will be spitted like a cat or a rabbit!” The long-sword, that is, the two-hander, was also an essentially national weapon. It was a right-down pleasing and sturdy implement, recalling in good steel the vernacular quarter-staff of old. It required thews and sinews, and, incidentally, much beef and ale. The long-sword man looked perhaps with even greater disfavour than the smaller swashbuckler upon the new-fangled “bird-spit.” “Tut, man,” says Justice Shallow, typical laudator of the good bygone days, on hearing of the ridiculous Frenchman’s skill with his rapier, “I could have told you more. In these times you stand on distance, your passes, stoccadoes, and I know not what; ’tis the heart, Master Page; ’tis here, ’tis here. I have seen the time, with my long-sword, I would have made you four tall fellows skip like rats.”

Now, sword-and-buckler and long-sword play was no doubt a manly pursuit and a useful. But, as an every-day companion, the long-sword was incongruous to a fastidious cavalier; and, again, the buckler, indispensable adjunct to the broad swashing blade of home production, was hardly more suitable. In Elizabethan days it soon became obvious that the buckler was inadmissible as an item of gentlemanly attire. It was accordingly left to the body attendant; and the gallant took kindly to the fine rapier of Milanese or Toledan make. On the other hand, it is not difficult to understand the rapid popularity gained among the gentry by this nimble rapier, so much reviled by the older fighting men. The rapier, in fact, came in with the taste for “cavalíero” style, and may be looked upon as its fit outward symbol already in the days of Queen Mary. In Elizabeth’s reign it was firmly established as your only gentlemanlike weapon.

The rapier was decidedly a foreigner; yet it suited the Elizabethan age, for it was decorative as well as practical. Its play was picturesque, fantastic—almost euphuistic, one might say—in comparison with the matter-of-fact hanger of older days. Its phraseology had a quaint, rich, southern smack, which connoted outlandish experience and gave those conversant with its intricate distinctions that marvellous character, at once precious and ruffling, which was so highly appreciated by the cavalier youth of the time. The rapier in its heyday was an admirable weapon to look at, a delicious one to wield. And, besides, in proper hands, it was undoubtedly one that was most conclusive. It was, in short, as elegant and deadly as its predecessors were sturdy and brutal.

By the time that the most perfect, namely, the Italian, rapier fence came to be generally taught in England—that is, during the last third of Elizabeth’s reign—the theory of swordsmanship, as applied to a single combat, after having passed through many phases of imperfection, was already tolerably simple and practical. (The exact story of its evolution may be found in a work now included in Bohn’s Libraries, Schools and Masters of Fence.) What may be considered as one of the cardinal actions of regulated sword-play on foot, namely, the lunge, had already been discovered. Although a great many movements which, according to modern notions, would be considered not only unnecessary but actually pernicious, still formed part of the system, it may be doubted whether, considering the character of the weapon, anything very much better could be devised, even in our present state of knowledge.

For it must be remembered that the evolution of the forms of the sword and of the theories concerning its most efficient use are closely connected. It is, in fact, sometimes difficult to decide whether the change in the shape of the weapon was the result of a development of a theory; or whether new theories were elaborated to fit alterations in these shapes due to fashion or any other reason.

When systematic fence came over to England it was already much simplified (it should be noted that improvement in the art, from its earliest days down to the present time, seems always to have been in the direction of simplification); yet, for more than a century from the appearance of the first real treatise, simplification never reached that point which would render impossible a belief in the undoubted efficacy of those “secret thrusts,” of that “universal parry,” of those ineluctable passes, which every master professed to teach. These precious secrets remain long, among a certain shady class of swordsmen, an object of untiring study, carried on with much the same faith and zest as the quest of the alchemist for his powder of projection, or of the Merchant Adventurer for El Dorado. There can, of course, be no such thing as an insuperable pass, a secret thrust or parry; every attack can be parried, every parry can be deceived by suitable movements. Yet there was some justification for the belief in the existence of secrets of swordsmanship in days when, as a rule, lessons of fence were given in jealous privacy; constant practice at one particular pass, especially with the long rapier, which required a great deal of muscular strength, might render any peculiarly fierce, sudden and audacious stroke excessively dangerous to one who did not happen to have opposed that stroke before. Undoubtedly there was little in Elizabethan fencing-schools of what we understand in modern days by loose-play between the pupils; practice was almost invariably conducted between scholar and teacher in private; and thus the opportunities for watching or testing any particular fencer’s play were few. Such an opportunity would, as a rule, only occur on occasions of an earnest fight; and the possessor of a specially handy thrust (if it came off at all) would of course take good care that his opponent should not live to ponder over the secret. The secret, such as it was, remained. In this guise it was inevitable that an almost superstitious belief in “secret foynes,” in the botte secrète of certain practised duellists, should arise.

Be that as it may, there is no doubt that towards the end of the 16th century there were many free-lances in the field of arms who professed to teach, in exchange for much gold, strokes that were not to be parried. From one truculent personage, whom Brantôme mentions, Tappa the Milanese, you could learn how to cut (if it so took your fancy) both eyes out of your adversary’s face with a rinverso tondo, or circular “reverse of the point.” From Caizo, another Italian teacher, at one time much favoured by the French court, lessons were to be had in the special art of ham-stringing. Caizo’s botte secrète seems to have been nothing more nor less than a falso manco, that is, a left-handed drawing cut, at the inside of the knee. But, as practised and taught by him, it was infallible. This stroke has come down to us as le coup de Jarnac—a stroke, be it said, which, notwithstanding its bad name, was quite as fair as any in rapier fence. One Le Flamand, a French master in Paris, was reputed the inventor of a jerky time-thrust at the adversary’s brows, which was a certainty. This special foyne, which was merely an imbrocata at the head, has become legendary in the fencing world as la botte de Nevers. English fencers have their own legends about “the very butcher of a silk button,” and this brings us to the first writer on the rapier in England, Vincenzio Saviolo, the great expounder of that Italianated fence which was so obnoxious to the old masters, withal so much admired of Elizabethan courtiers; the man, in short, who—there seems to be much internal evidence to show it—was Shakespeare’s fencing master.

Vincenzio was not the only foreign master of note established in London during the latter part of Elizabeth’s reign. One, Signor Rocco, had, we hear, a very gorgeously appointed academy in Warwick Lane, near St Paul’s, where he coined money rapidly at the expense of gulls and gallants alike. But this man came to grief ultimately in an encounter with the long-sword with an old-fashioned English master of defence. Another popular teacher was a certain “Geronimo”; but he also met with a melancholy and premature end by the hands of one Cheefe, “a tall man in his fight and natural English,” says George Silver, the champion of the Corporation of Masters of Defence. Saviolo, however, seems to have remained unconquered. In his work (Vincentio Saviolo, his practise, in two bookes, the first intreating of the use of the Rapier and Dagger, the second of Honor and honorable quarrels. London. Printed by John Wolfe, 1595) are expounded in a most typical manner the principles of rapier play.

The fencing phraseology of Elizabethan times is highly picturesque, but with difficulty intelligible in the absence of practical demonstration. Without going into technical details it may be pointed out that the long Elizabethan rapier, however admirably balanced it might otherwise be, was still too heavy to admit of quick parries with the blade itself. Thrusts, as a rule, had to be avoided by body movements, by ducking, or by a vault aside (incartata), or beaten away with the left hand, the hand being protected with a gauntlet or armed with a dagger. In fact, one may say that the chief characteristic of Elizabethan sword-play was the concerted action of the left hand parrying while the right delivered the attack. Benvolio’s description of Tybalt’s fight is graphic:—

“With piercing steel he tilts at bold Mercutio’s breast, Who, all as hot, turns deadly point to point, And with a martial scorn, with one hand beats Cold death aside, and with the other Sends it back to Tybalt, whose dexterity Retorts it....”

Of these body movements, in Saviolo’s days, the most approved were: the incartata, just mentioned; the pass (the “passado,” in the ruffling Anglo-Italian jargon), that is, passing of one foot in front of the other whilst delivering the attack; the botta lunga, or lunge; and the caricado, which was a far-reaching combination of the two. Of systematic sword movements there were six: stocata, a thrust delivered with nails upwards; imbrocata, with nails down; punta-reversa, any thrust delivered from the left side of the body; mandritto, a cut from the right; rinverso, one from the left; stramazone, a right-down blow with the point of the sword.

The new art of fence, as systematized by the principles of rapier play, was on the whole already accepted in England during the last decade of the 16th century, and was, as we know, destined to endure. Nevertheless, there were still many partisans of the older school: lovers of the national short-sword and the buckler. Their tenets are to be found embodied, in very strenuous language, by the George Silver mentioned above, a member, it would seem, of the now dwindling company of Masters of Defence, in his small work: Paradoxe of Defence, wherein is proved the true ground of fight to be in the short ancient weapons, etc. Printed in London, 1599. (The work has been reprinted by Messrs George Bell & Sons.)

The Italians were undoubtedly the leaders in sword-play; but, towards the beginning of the 17th century, the Spaniards developed a peculiar school of their own, which for a short while was all the mode in England as well as in France. The last trace, be it stated, of that school is now extinct. Yet the Spaniard of cavalier days was undoubtedly a formidable duellist; that was no doubt owing to the quality of the man, not of his art. The Italian’s fence was artistic; the Spaniard’s dexterity was essentially scientific. In Spain were to be found typically those “Captains of Complements,” who not only understood in their most intricate mazes the proper “dependencies” for the cartel, but also the mathematical certainties for the “reason demonstrative.” These Spanish books are marvellously pedantic; one may as well say it, frankly ridiculous. Spanish masters instructed their scholars on mathematical lines, with the help of diagrams drawn on the floor within a circle, the radius of which bore certain cryptic proportions to length of human arms and Spanish swords. The circle was inscribed in squares and intersected by sundry chords bearing occult but, it was held, incontrovertible relations to probabilities of strokes and parries. The scholar was to step from certain intersections to certain others. If this stepping was correctly done the result was a foregone victory. “A villain,” exclaims Mercutio, indignantly, “who fights by the book of arithmetic.” Elizabethan comedies bring us many an echo of its great expounder of mathematical swordsmanship, the magnificent Carranza, the primer inventor de la Ciencia de las Armas, the writer of treatises so abstruse on “the first and second cause,” in questions of honour and swording, that they have never been quite understood to this day.

Perhaps the most curious matter in connexion with the Spanish fence is that the most splendid treatise of the sword published in the French language is in reality purely Spanish (we have seen that the first was German, and the second an adaptation of Italian treatises). This third work, Académie de l’épée de Girard Thibault, d’Anvers, etc., is indeed a monument; one of the biggest books ever printed, and beyond compare the biggest book of fence. It was issued in 1628 by the Leiden Elzevirs, and took fifteen years to complete. Nine reigning princes and a vast number of private gentlemen subscribed to meet its stupendous expenses.

This work was spoken of as a “monument.” It may, in some respects, be looked upon as the funeral monument of the old rapier fence; for soon after that period rose an entirely new school, one adapted to the use of a less portentous weapon, the small-sword of French pattern; a school destined to endure, and to lead to the perfection of our modern escrime.

The evolution of this new school is an instance of the influence of fashion upon the shape of the sword, and hence upon theories concerning its use. The French school of fencing may be said to owe its origin to the adoption, under Louis XIV., of the short court-sword in place of the over-long wide-hilted rapier of the older style. With a weapon of such reduced dimensions, of such reduced weight, the advantage of the dagger as a fencing adjunct at once ceased to be felt. The dagger, last Gothic remnant, disappeared accordingly; and there arose rapidly a new system of play, in which most of the defensive actions were performed by the blade alone; in which, at the same time (the reduction in the size and weight of the weapon rendering the efficiency of the edge almost nugatory in comparison with that of the point), all cutting action was ultimately discarded.

It is from that date, namely, from the last third of the 17th century, that the sword, as a fighting implement, becomes differentiated into two very different directions. The military weapon becomes the back-sword or sabre; the walking companion and duelling weapon becomes what we now understand by the small-sword. Two utterly different kinds of fence are practised: one, that of the back-sword; the other, what we would now call foil-play.

The magnificent old cut and thrust rapier still flourished, it is true, in parts of Italy and Spain; but by the end of the 17th century it had already become an object of ridicule in the eyes of all persons addicted to bon ton—and it must be remembered that bon ton, on the Continent everywhere and even in England, at that time, was French ton. The walking sword, fit for a gentleman’s side, was therefore the small-sword of Versailles pattern. Its use had to be learnt from French masters of deportment; the old magniloquent Italo-Spanish rapier jargon was forgotten; French terms, barbarized into carte, tierce, sagoon, flanquonade, and so forth, were alone understood. In fact, French fencing became as indispensable an accomplishment to the Georgian gentlemen as the fine Italianated foyning had been to the Elizabethan.

The new French sword-play was, it must be owned, very neat, quiet, precise, and, if anything, even more deadly than the old fence. It was perfect as a decorous mode of fight, and as well suited to the lace ruffles, to the high perruque and the red heels of the “beau” as the long cup-hilted rapier had been to the booted and spurred “cavalier.” The essence of its play was nimbleness of wrist; it required quickness of spirit rather than muscular vigour. It is to be noted, however, that the same sort of popular opposition met the invasion of French fencing, in post-Restoration days, that had been offered to the new-fangled Italian rapier a century earlier. During the Parliamentary period the rapier and its attendant dagger had practically disappeared; they were not true warlike weapons, their chief virtue was for duelling or sudden encounters. But the stout English back-sword survived; and with it a very definite school of back-sword play. Under Charles II., the amusement of stage or prize-fighting with swords had become à la mode. Courteous assaults at many weapons, of course rebated, had been frequent functions under the auspices of the Corporation of Masters of Defence during the second half of the 16th century; it is (be it remarked) in such sword-matches on the scaffold that we find the origin of our modern prize-fights at fisticuffs. The first instance known of a challenge at sharps on the fighting stage is seen in a cartel sent by George Silver and Toby his son, as champions of the Corporation of Masters of Defence, to the obnoxious “Signors” Saviolo and Geronimo. As a matter of fact, the latter, having apparently no wish to improve their excellent social position or to risk forfeiting it, declined this invitation to a public trial of skill. But the idea was right martial and pleasing to the English mind, and the fashion of prize-fighting took the firm hold it retained on English minds till stringent legislation, not so very long ago, was brought to bear upon it. Be it as it may, this prize-fighting with swords endured until middle Georgian days; when, under the impetus given to fistic displays then by the renowned Figg (who was at one and the same time the most formidable of English fencers and the first on the long list of English pugilistic champions), back-swording became relegated to the provinces, and ultimately dwindled into our bastard “single-stick.”

Fencing, in its restricted sense of purely thrusting play, was always an “academic” art in England. The first great advocate and exponent of the new small-sword fence, as taught by the new French school, was Sir William Hope of Balcomy, at one time deputy governor of Edinburgh Castle, who wrote a great number of quaint treatises of great interest to the “operative” as well as to the “speculative” fencer. Yet, oddly enough, Sir William Hope was instrumental in endeavouring to push through parliament a bill for the establishment of a court of honour, the office of which was to have been the deciding of honourable quarrels, whenever possible, without appeal to fencing skill. The House, however, being at the time excited and busy on the question of the union of Scotland and England, the bill never became act.

To resume: since it began to be practised as a regulated art one may say broadly that sword play has already passed through four main phases. The first belongs to the early Tudor days of sword and buckler encounters, whereof, if the best theoretical treatises appeared in Italy, the sturdiest practical exponents were most probably found in the British Isles. Then came the age of the rapier, coeval with the general disuse of the buckler. There may be discerned the dawn of fencing proper, which will fully arise when, in Caroline times, the outrageous length of the tucke will at last be sufficiently reduced no longer to require the dagger as a helpmate. The third was the age of the small-sword. With its light, elegant and deadly practice we enter a new atmosphere, so to speak, on fencing ground. Suppleness of wrist and precision of fingering replace the ramping and traversing, the heavy forcing play, of the Elizabethan. If the rapier age was well exemplified by Vincent Saviolo, this one was typified, albeit perhaps at a time when it was already somewhat on the wane, by the admirable Angelo Tremamondo Malevolti.

In the early days of the small-sword age men still fenced in play as they fought in earnest. But presently there appeared on the scene (during the last years of the 18th century) an implement destined to revolutionize the art and hopelessly to divide the practice of the school from that of the field: that was the fencing mask. Before this invention, small-sword play in the master’s room was perforce comparatively cautious, correct, sure and above all deliberate. The long, excited, argumentative phrases of modern assaults were unknown; and so was the almost inevitably consequent scrimmage. But under the protection of the fencing mask a new school of foil-play was evolved, one in which swiftness and inveteracy of attack and parry, of riposte, remise, counter-riposte and reprise, assumed an all-important character. With the new style began to assert itself that utter recklessness of “chance hits” which in our days so markedly differentiates foil-practice from actual duelling. And this brings us to the fourth phase, the fencing art, to what may be called the age of the foil.

If anything were required to demonstrate that foil-play has nowadays passed into the state of what may be called fine art in athleticism, it would be found in the rise of the method which French masters particularize as le jeu du terrain, as duelling play in fact; a play which differs as completely from academic foil-fencing as cross-country riding in an unknown district from the haute école of horsemanship in the manège. By fencing, nowadays, that is by foil-play, we have come to mean not simply fighting for hits, but a strictly regulated game which, being quite conventional, does not take accidental hits into consideration at all. This game requires for its perfect display a combination of artificial circumstances, such as even floors, featherweight weapons, and an unconditional acceptance of a number of traditional conventions. Now, for the more utilitarian purposes of duelling, the major part of the foil fencer’s special achievement and brilliancy has to be uncompromisingly sacrificed in the presence of the brutal fact that thrusts in the face, or below the waist, do count, insomuch as they may kill; that accidental hits in the arm or the leg cannot be disregarded, for they may, and generally do, put a premature stop to the bout. The “rub on the green” must be accepted, perforce, and indeed often plays as important a part in the issue of the game as the player’s skill. The fact, however, that in earnest encounters all conventionalities which determine the value of a hit vanish, does not in any way justify the notion, prevalent among many, that a successful hit justifies any method of planting the same; and that the mere discarding of all convention in practical sword-play is sufficient to convert a bad fencer into a dangerous duellist.

It is the recognition of this fact (which, oddly enough, only came to be generally admitted, and not without reluctance, by the masters of the art during the last quarter of the 19th century) which has led to the elaboration of the modified system of small-sword fence now known as épée play. The new system, after passing through various rather extravagant phases of its own, gradually returned to the main principle of sound foil-play, but shorn of all futile conventions as to the relative values of hits. In épée play a hit is a hit, whether correctly delivered or reckless, whether intentional or the result of mere chance, and must, at the cost of much caution and patience, be guarded against.

Per contra the elaboration by the devotees of the épée of a really practical system of fence, that is, one applicable to trials in earnest, has reacted upon the teaching of foil-play by the best masters of the present day—a teaching which, without ceasing to be academical up to a certain point, takes now cognisance of the necessity of defending every part of the body as sedulously as the target of the breast, and, moreover, of warding the many possibilities of chance hits in contretemps.

In both plays—in the highly refined, complicated and brilliant fence of the first-class “foil,” as well as in the simpler and more cautious operations of the practised duellist—the one golden rule remains, that one so quaintly expressed by M. Jourdain’s maître d’armes in Molière’s comedy: “Tout le secret des armes ne consiste qu’en deux choses, à donner et à ne point recevoir.”

The point most usually lost sight of by sanguine and self-reliant scorners of conventionalities is that, although with the sword it may be comparatively easy at any time “to give,” it is by no means easy to make sure of “giving without receiving.” The mutual simultaneous hit—the coup-double—is, in fact, the dread pitfall of all sword-play. For this reason, in courteous bouts, a hit has no real value, not only when it is actually cancelled by a counter, but when it is delivered in such a way as to admit of a counter. In short, the experience of ages and the careful consideration of probabilities have given birth to the various make-believes and restrictions that go to make sound foil-play. These restrictions are destined to act in the same direction as the warning presence of a sharp point instead of a button; and thus, as far as possible, to prevent those mutual hits—the contretemps of the old masters—which mar the greater number of assaults. The proper observance of those conventions, other things being equal, distinguishes the good from the indifferent swordsman, the man who uses his head from him who rushes blindly where angels fear to tread. So much for foil-play.

In modern sword-play, on the other hand, is seen the usual tendency of arts which have reached their climax of complication to return to comparative simplicity. With reference to actual duelling, it is a recognized thing that it would be the height of folly to attempt, sword in hand, the complex attacks, the full-length lunges, the neat but somewhat weak parries of the foil; so much so, that many have been led to assert that, for its ultimate practical purpose (which logically is that of duelling), the refined art of the foil, requiring so many years of assiduous and methodical work, is next to useless. It is alleged, as a proof, that many successful duellists have happened to be indifferent performers on the fencing floor. Some even maintain that a few weeks’ special work in that restricted—very restricted—play, which alone can be considered safe on the field of honour, will produce as good a practical swordsman as any who have walked the schools for years. Nothing can be further from the truth: were it but on the ground that the greater includes the less; that the foil-fencer of standing who can perform with ease and accuracy all the intricate movements of the assault, who has trained his hand and eye to the lightning speed of the well-handled foil, must logically prove more than a match for the more purely practical but less trained devotees of the épée de combat. The only difference for him in the two plays is that the latter is incomparably slower in action, simpler; that it demands above all things patience and caution; and especially that, instead of protecting his breast only, the épée fencer must beware of the wily attack, or the chance hit, at every part of his body, especially at his sword-hand.

The difference which still exists between the French and Italian schools of small-sword fence—by no means so wide, in point of theory, as popularly supposed—is mainly due to the dissimilarity of the weapons favoured by the two countries. The quillons, which are retained to this day in the Italian fioretto and spada, conduce to a freer use of wrist-play and a straight arm. The French, on the other hand, having long ago adopted the plain grip both for fleuret and épée, have come to rely more upon finger-play and a semi-bent arm. Both schools have long laid claims to an overwhelming superiority, on theoretical ground, over their rivals—claims which were unwarrantable. Indeed, of later days, especially since the evolution of a special “duelling play,” the two schools show a decided tendency, notwithstanding the difference in the grip of the weapons, towards a mutual assimilation of principles.

As a duelling weapon—as one, that is to say, the practice of which under the restrictive influence of conventions could become elaborated into an art—the sabre (see Sabre-fencing) returned to favour in some countries at the close of the Napoleonic wars. Considered from the historical point of view, the modern sabre, albeit now a very distant cousin of the small-sword, is as direct a descendant as the latter itself of the old cut-and-thrust rapier. It is curious, therefore, to note that, just as the practice of the “small” or thrusting sword gave rise to two rival schools, the French and the Italian, that of the sabre or cutting sword (it can hardly be called the broadsword, the blade, for the purposes of duelling play, having been reduced to slenderest proportions) became split up into two main systems, Italian and German. And further it is remarkable that the leading characteristics of the latter should still be, in a manner, “severity” and steadfastness; and that the former, the Italian, should rely, as of yore, specially upon agility and insidious cunning.

Concerning the latter-day evolution of that special and still more conventional system of fence, the Schläger or Hau-rapier play favoured by the German student, from that of the ancestral rapier, the curious will find a critical account in an article entitled “Schlägerei” which appeared in the Saturday Review, 5th of December 1885.

See also the separate articles on Cane-Fencing (canne); Épée-de-Combat; Foil-Fencing; Sabre-Fencing; and Single-stick.

Authorities.—The bibliography of fencing is a copious subject; but it has been very completely dealt with in the following works: Bibliotheca dimicatoria, in the “Fencing, Boxing and Wrestling” volume of the Badminton library (Longmans); A Bibliography of Fencing and Duelling, by Carl A. Thimm (John Lane). For French works more especially: La Bibliographie de l’escrime, by Vigeant (Paris, Motteroz); and Ma Collection d’escrime, by the same (Paris, Quantin). For Italian books: Bibliografia generale della scherma, by Gelli (Firenza, Niccolai). For Spain and Portugal: Libros de esgrima españoles y portugueses, by Leguina (Madrid, Los Huérfanos). Both M. Vigeant’s and Cav. Gelli’s works deal with the subject generally; but their entries are only critical, or even tolerably accurate, in the case of books belonging to their own countries. Concerning the history of the art, Egerton Castle’s Schools and Masters of Fence (George Bell); Hutton’s The Sword and the Centuries (Grant Richards); and Letainturier-Fradin’s Les Joueurs d’épée à travers les âges (Paris, Flammarion) cover the ground, technically and ethically. As typical exponents of the French and Italian schools respectively may be mentioned here: La Théorie de l’escrime, by Prévost (Paris, de Brunhof) (this is the work which was adopted in the Badminton volume on Fencing), and Trattato teorico-pratico della scherma, by Parise (Rome, Voghera).

(E. Ca.)

FENDER, a metal guard or defence (whence the name) for a fire-place. When the open hearth with its logs burning upon dogs or andirons was replaced by the closed grate, the fender was devised as a finish to the smaller fire-places, and as a safeguard against the dropping of cinders upon the wooden floor, which was now much nearer to the fire. Fenders are usually of steel, brass or iron, solid or pierced. Those made of brass in the latter part of the 18th and the earlier part of the 19th centuries are by far the most elegant and artistic. They usually had three claw feet, and the pierced varieties were often cut into arabesques or conventional patterns. The lyre and other motives of the Empire style were much used during the prevalence of that fashion. The modern fender is much lower and is often little more than a kerb; it is now not infrequently of stone or marble, fixed to the floor.

FÉNELON, BERTRAND DE SALIGNAC, seigneur de la Mothe (1523-1589), French diplomatist, came of an old family of Périgord. After serving in the army he was sent ambassador to England in 1568. At the request of Charles IX. he endeavoured to excuse to Elizabeth the massacre of St. Bartholomew as a necessity caused by a plot which had been laid against the life of the king of France. For some time after the death of Charles IX. Fénelon was continued in his office, but he was recalled in 1575 when Catherine de’ Medici wished to bring about a marriage between Elizabeth and the duke of Alençon, and thought that another ambassador would have a better chance of success in the negotiation. In 1582 Fénelon was charged with a new mission to England, then to Scotland, and returned to France in 1583. He opposed the Protestants until the end of the reign of Henry III., but espoused the cause of Henry IV. He died in 1589. His nephew in the sixth degree was the celebrated archbishop of Cambrai.