Legends of the Broadsword: The Butchers of Silk Buttons
"The very butcher of a silk button, a duelist, a duelist"- so says Mercutio in Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet, mocking the pretension of the Italian fencing masters, whose proud boast was that they could hit any Englishman on any button of his coat at will.
Such a feat would have been difficult enough with the rapier, but at least it was a weapon designed for thrusting, a long needle with a handle on it. What would Mercutio have thought of the Highland swordsmen, who made a display of surgical button-removal with the edge of a claymore?
Because the prevailing ethic of Highland swordplay discouraged killing the opponent in single combat, it was customary to wound him on the arm instead, displaying one's superior skill but sparing his life. There are many accounts of this in Gaelic tradition, such as the duel between Rob Roy MacGregor and Black Rory the Unjust, where Rob Roy first took off the top of his opponent's ear, then left his arm in "two even halves above the elbow," but deliberately avoided killing him. As merciful as this certainly was, it was still a bloody business. The ultimate display of personal skill with the broadsword was to win without hurting the opponent at all, as in the duel between Aonghas Beag MacLeod and the Laird of Brenish:
There was later someone in Harris called Aonghas Beag MacLeod, and he too was renowned for his swordplay. The Laird of Brenish sent MacLeod of Harris a challenge; Aonghas Beag went to Brenish and greeted the Laird of Brenish, and they stood facing up to each other. It appears that MacAulay was no weakling, but finally Aonghas Beag closed in and knocked lightly the button out of the shirt below the Laird of Brenish's neck, and said to him, "Will that suffice?" "Yes," said MacAulay. "You think you have MacLeod before you," said Aonghas, "but you only have one of his people." (From the Gaelic lore of the Rev Calum MacillEathain)
For some duelists, only one button was not enough. When Donald MacLeod of Grishernish fought the heir of MacLeod of MacLeod, he removed all the buttons from his coat without otherwise damaging the coat, and was in the process of doing the same thing to the young lord's shirt when the two men were separated. It is difficult to conceive of the skill that would have been required to perform such a feat, or the courage and cool determination needed to risk one's life against a sharp broadsword while doing so. That such a thing could actually be done, however, is proved by the Azores stick-fighters, who to this day include button-butchering in their combative repertoire, striving to rip all the buttons off the opponent's jacket with a single swing of the stick.