#bartitsu

"The emerging martial art of Bartitsu, appearing in middle-class magazines during the Boer War, was the encapsulation of British civilian gallantry. Yet Bartitsu would have slid into obscurity had it not been for its curious appearance in the Sherlock Holmes canon. The final showdown of the ‘duel’ between Holmes and Moriarty is a wrestling match between two Victorian masterminds. When Holmes returns to London he tells Watson that he and Moriarty went to battle at the Reichenbach Falls unarmed. Holmes managed to ‘slip through’ Moriarty’s grip as he possessed ‘some knowledge’ of ‘baritsu, or the Japanese system of wrestling’, adding that the art had on occasion been useful to him.

Founded in the 1890s by an Anglo-Scottish engineer, Edward William Barton-Wright (1860–1951), Bartitsu was a synthesis of British boxing, French la savate (kickboxing) and Japanese jujitsu. Barton-Wright tapped into the need for a bourgeois form of self-defence, something which he could promote as being British and yet was also exotic and refined.

The principal aim of Bartitsu’s promoters was ‘to provide a means whereby the higher classes of society may protect themselves from the attacks of hooligans and their like all over the world’. These urban gangs were a new form of folk devil, descendants of the mid-Victorian-era garotter. While they were armed with clubs, knuckles, iron bars and leather belts, it is doubtful that they carried firearms. Nevertheless, the press did represent the hooligan as a threatening presence.

Perhaps the scares promoted the growth of a burgeoning culture of ‘British’ self-defence which avoided the aggressive and increasingly unmanly action of using a firearm against a ruffianly lower-class opponent equipped only with basic weapons.

Barton-Wright follows a literary tradition when he presents his martial art as a British form of self-defence. Pierce Egan’s well-known self-defence manual was supplemented with a word on the ‘Englishness’ of physical heroism, arguing that ‘Englishmen need no other weapons in personal contests than those which nature has so amply supplied them with’. In 1910 the former lightweight boxing champion Andrew J. Newton said in his manual Boxing that ‘the native of Southern Europe flies to his knife’, whereas the ‘Britisher […] is handy with his fists in an emergency’. Elsewhere it was maintained that the ‘Italian, Greek, Portuguese, or South American’ ‘give preference to the knife’ while the Englishman extols boxing. For Barton-Wright, British boxers ‘scorn taking advantages of another man when he is down’, while a foreigner might ‘use a chair, or a beer bottle, or a knife’ or, ‘when a weapon is available’, he might employ ‘underhanded means’. The views of these articles reappear in a later self-defence manual of 1914, where it is argued that Britons ‘live in a country where knife and revolver are not much in evidence’. This statement about the low number of firearms and edged weapons can be read as an attempt to extol British virtues and is not necessarily representative of reality. The knife is a weapon of the Other. Barton-Wright’s view that English practitioners of Bartitsu are principled men is reflected in the Sherlock Holmes canon, where Holmes never uses a knife, although his enemies, whether foreign or British, do so at times."

— Emelyne Godfrey, Masculinity, Crime and Self-Defence in Victorian Literature (Palgrave Macmillan, 2013) (very abridged)

Before I begin this review: I was curious about the martial art "baritsu" that Sherlock Holmes mentions in this story. Almost certainly Doyle meant either jujitsu or Bartitsu, which was an English martial art inspired by jujitsu. But this introduced a wrinkle: the story takes place in 1894, when the martial art was only introduced in 1898 at the earliest. The fact the martial art would have died in 1902 if not for Doyle's work is interesting, and the fact it came from misunderstanding and mixing up the names is funny to me. Ah, Doyle, you very white Englishman.

But beyond that: as a justification for Sherlock Holmes not being quite as dead as we had believed, it's actually quite good. We get a little retcon about the ledge he disappeared over, and the sheer cliff he climbed to avoid detection, but this story also uses an offhand comment Sherlock made as foreshadowing for the denouement at the end, which is a clever bit of writing.

The mystery in the story is not really as interesting as the circumstances under which it happens. The central context of the story is that because a man is murdered, Sherlock Holmes has what he needs to restore his old life to himself. It is a little disappointing to make an easy guess for how the card player was murdered.

But even still the story is fun to read. Even though Sebastian Moran is easily captured by Sherlock's plan, he has an aura of menace to him that stands out quite strongly. And even though Sherlock Holmes doesn't explain who this villain is until the end of the story, so much of what happens is based around avoiding Moran's evil eye. I can see why he's stuck around for so many years, not least because he's an evil version of Watson.

Does our earl wear brands like Burberry?

Burberry was established in Basingstoke in 1856 (but has its HQ in London), so it was definitely around... even when Grandma P was watchdog. I find it interesting Burberry was established there because I once looked at Basingstoke as a potential area for Phantomhive Manor and its surrounding estate. Even tried to figure out whether St. Michael's Church in Basingstoke could be the reference for the parish church where Vincent and Rachel marry... and where Vicar Rathbone worked as reeve for Vincent -- because Rathbone even mentions St. Michael's Day -- but it doesn't seem to be. I still haven't definitively found the Phantomhive estate on a map of England, but the North Downs area is still promising....

I've also looked at Burberry for being the reference for Grelle's red trench coat, which I think might actually be true. (I think Abberline might be wearing an Aquascutum 🧥.)

You bring up a valid question, here. Is this:

This?

And I do believe the answer is YES. Yana-san has dressed the bunch in it, including Arthur:

And a lot of websites try to pass off similar designs, like these with extra red lines:

But true Burberry has those single red lines, like our earl and the others have donned.

Yana-san is lucky to not get sued for it, since... as I mentioned in the linked post above, Burberry also has licensing in Asia, so the brand might be looking for knockoffs or other trademark infringements there. In the west, Target (among other stores) has been sued over the years by copying the signature check pattern, sometimes even with the single red line. Target is lucky that the lawsuit was dropped after talks. Idk why it was dropped, honestly. 🤔

Anyway. Yeah.

Of course, in the Kuroverse, it might be that Nina Hopkins has made all sleuthing outfits worn by our earl and anyone else in his household. No telling where she claims to buy the fabrics she uses. 😆

But many fans recognize that iconic check.

Bonus: I searched my blog for "Basingstoke", hoping to find something about my old search for the Phantomhive estate, and lo and behold, the only post that came up was from the murders arc. But it's about Bartitsu... and Arthur accidentally calling it Baritsu. Someone says it's time to go to Basingstoke Bartitsu Irregulars. It's real. 😳😂

What an excellent question!

I think there are two plausible answers here... One is that Sherlock has a history working for whatever government agency Mycroft is supposed to represent, and got his training that way. Now, Sherlock implies on a few occasions that he refuses to work for Mycroft (like in ASIP and TGG), and sometimes they clearly work at cross purposes (like in HLV). But Mycroft does offer him work in HLV (which Sherlock is forced to accept by the end of the episode), and he probably wouldn't be able to do that if Sherlock didn't have some pre-existing relationship with whatever intelligence agency, along with appropriate training.

The other likely possibility is suggested by the original canon. In Doyle's stories, Holmes tells us that he has studied a martial art called Baritsu -- probably a reference to Bartitsu, a wacky but real fighting method drawing together jujitsu, boxing, and cane fighting, among others. If our Sherlock was engaged in something similar, he might be basically self-taught, or perhaps working with private trainers or sparring partners.

Personally, I think the first option is a bit more likely, but the second is more fun. ;)

another 'single stick waltz'!!! ahhh, ok, something different from the previous ask (maybe i can write something new, right here and now just for you 😉):

anyone who read my fic shieldpoint knows I love badass!Watson but I haven't found a fic (yet) where Holmes teaches Watson some defense skills. I was so taken by the imagery of Baker Street's sitting room cleared away--the table pushed in the corner, the desks along the wall, Mrs. Hudson clucking from below at the sounds coming from above.

Watson sipping tea and Holmes prickly with boredom, before silver eyes slide towards the chair and a small smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth. "My dear Watson...have you ever heard of the art bartitsu?"

Watson being incredulous and a little flattered by the proposition. Watson is an athlete, a sports-lover, a rugby man, he would love some exercise but it has been ages since he exerted himself. Running after criminals is one thing, but he wonders, pride a little low, if he could manage it with his shoulder. Holmes insists, provoking his sense of fun and the utility of learning defense, and Watson realizes, as Holmes begins to roll up his sleeves and reveal muscular arms, finely haired, that even if he is rubbish it may still be...interesting.

Watson gets to his feet, feeling a little foolish, a little excited. Holmes abruptly tosses something at him, and Watson's reflexes are still sharp enough to pluck it out of the air. A black longstick, firm in his hand, and he can't help but mirror the low smile Holmes shoots him.

"Let us see if an old dog can learn new tricks, hmm?" he teases, an obvious dig. Watson slides his thumb along the wood, and something thrums beneath his skin, eager and intrigued. Looking up, he mimics the easy stance Holmes has taken on the Persian rug.

"Alright, Holmes. Show me the basics?"

Holmes smirks. "Experience, I believe, is the best teacher." And quick as lightning, he dashes forward. Watson lifts a hand, jerking back, and feels the thunder and reverberation of stick meeting stick. He blinks at sparkling grey eyes, now inches from his own.