Part I: A short overview of the gaucho

In order to understand Argentinian knives, one must understand the Argentinian knife user: the “gaucho”. Gauchos were not always a highly esteemed cultural icon, for more than two centuries they were outlawed by statesmen and lawmakers who thought their wandering habits and nomadic life style had no place in a growing country that always looked at Europe as an example. In fact, even today, “porteños”?[1] take pride in calling Buenos Aires the “Paris of Southamerica” or the most European city of Southamerica.
Nowadays, the word gaucho has a very positive meaning. If you call somebody a gaucho you’re saying that he is honourable, trustworthy, a good friend and an overall great guy. We even use it for things as well, for example you can say that a trusty pick up truck that has been working flawlessly with little care is “gauchita”. The word “gauchada” (literally, something a gaucho does) means doing a great service to somebody expecting nothing in return.

Gauchos were often times seen as a bad influence by men who considered themselves champions of civilization and were labeled as barbarians. One of our most celebrated presidents, and creator of our school system, once wrote to one of his generals (Mitre, another celebrated statesman, who later became our president) who had gauchos under his command “...don’t be stingy with gaucho blood. It’s a tribute necesary to make this country useful. After all, blood is the only human thing those savages have”[3] . Only after the economical changes that would destroy them were in place (organized agriculture, fences, railroad, etc.) did the gaucho’s image take a positive turn. Some novels, with European romanticism influence, were published depicting the gaucho as a knight in shining armour, champion of all things good.

The “true” gaucho was neither the bloodthirsty savage nor the handsome hero. He was a tough man born in tough times who always got the short end of the stick, because the government could never find a place for him. The smallest offense would be enough to press them into army service in the frontier. When the Spaniards run the show, they used gauchos to fight the Portuguese (in the region that is Ururguay today). When the Spanish were the enemy, the gaucho army of Don Martín de Güemes fought them in the North, near Perú, where the Spanish rule was strongest. Once we were free of the Spanish rule and wanted to expand the country, gauchos fought the aborigins (there’s no PC name for them here, we still call them indians most of the time). When Spanish, Portuguese and aborigins were out of the picture, it was time for a good old fashioned civil war (which lasted for decades) and the gauchos were once again the ones running around getting shot.

Most authors agree that the first gaucho-like characters appeared in what was then the Virreynato del Río de la Plata[4] . So the gaucho was never uniquely Argentine, there were gauchos in Uruguay (in all honesty you can’t really tell whether the Argentines are exactly like the Uruguayans or if the Uruguayans are exactly like us, we are very similar even in our particular Spanish accents) and southern Brazil (Río Grande area) as well.
The first words used to designate the individual who was later to become the gaucho were “vagabundo”, “vago de campo”, id est “bum”. Being a “vago” (somebody with no permanent work or home) was considered a misdeamenor under Spanish law (Legislación Española y de Indias). They rode around the plains, where wild horses and wild cows were plentyful, almost a plague. They made a living from hunting these wild cows (“ganado cimarrón”) and selling their hides (meat wasn’t a valuable import back then, many times the corpses of the skinned cows were left to rot). Of course, killing “ganado cimarrón” without a permit from the Viceroy was a crime, and by “selling their hides” I really meant smuggling them,since they couldn’t legally sell them because they didn’t have a permit to kill the cow in the first place. Plus commerce during the Spanish rule was very limited, unless you smuggled your cargo onto a British ship. They also engaged in other criminal activities, like theft.

Around 1700 the word “camilucho” appears in the Banda Oriental (another name for Uruguay) as another name for these “vagos de campo”, it comes-apparantely- from the word “camilo”, an ancient name for church servants.

There are lots of documents from the Cabildos (government centers of the Spanish colonial cities) that talk about the crimes commited by these “people without God, no King and no Law”[5] .

In Santa Fe (a province of Argentina, near Buenos Aires), the people who hunted wild cows without a license were called “changadores”. “Changar” meant to kill “ganado cimarrón” for their hides (as is noted in an Acta del Cabildo from September 16th, 1729). The hides obtained without a license were loaded onto small boats and taken to Colonia del Sacramento (Uruguay). Those boats were known as “champanes” in Spanish and “jangadas” in Portuguese. The owners of those boats were known as “jangadeiros” or “jangadoiros” in Portuguese, the Portuguese “j” sounds like a “ch” to Spanish speakers, so the word was changed into “changador” and used for both the boat owner and the cow hunter.

All these different proto-gauchos and gaucho-like characters lived in what was then “the frontier”. They only went into the cities to trade, and for as short a time as posible. They were mainly white, but kept in touch with the indians, sometimes because the “tolderías” (indian camps) were the only place where they could hide from serving in the army or being executed for some crime. Pampas were their home. The word “pampa” comes from Quechua (the language of the Inca) and means plain, the plains in what is known as the “Pampa húmeda” in Argentina are criss-crossed with rivers and lakes that produce, along with the mild weather, a rich vegetation and a perfect home for the huge herds of horses and cows that bred from the few animals left behind by Don Pedro de Mendoza in 1536 in his failed attemp to colonize this land.

The gauchos became excellent horsemen. They even went to hear mass on horse. I’ve seen some “paisanos” (modern rural workers) fishing from their horses. Fro those of us who still make traditional criollo skills a part of our life, there’s no greater joy than to show off a horse who you’ve educated yourself. We have festivals that last for days, filled with games on horse and horsemanship tests. In those days, when horses were incredibly easy to come by, gauchos weren’t very careful with them. They knew that if their horse died on them, they could always get another one with their lazo. That changed as soon as wild horses became scarce or were claimed by the rich estancieros (ranch owners).

The wild cows provided not only food, but hides and grease that could be sold for a handsome amount to foreign countries (keep in mind that any trade with a country other than Spain was considered smuggling). Huge cow hunting expeditions called “vaquerías” (“vaca” means cow, we call cowboys “vaqueros”). These expeditions were small armies, and the way they hunted cows was very much like a cavalry charge. The riders deployed in a semi-circle, the ones on the sides had to keep the cows inside the formation, the others charged them with spears called “desjarretadores” that instead of a regular point have a crecent shaped (and wicked sharp!) blade perpendicular to the handle, which is used to cut the tendons in the back of the cow’s leg. We weren’t big on firearms, as you can see. I’ve seen riders skilled enough to use a knife to cut the cow’s tendons. Once the cows were down, they were killed with knives, skinned and the meat that wasn’t eaten was usually left there to rot.

Some “vaquerías” were legal, with all the required permits from the Cabildo, some were not. Gauchos, known as “camiluchos” when the “vaquerías” started, worked in both. The first big “vaquerías” in Buenos Aires took place at the beginning of the 18th century, they started a bit earlier in Uruguay.

After a few years, camiluchos started to be called changadores (changarín is a word that we still use today to talk about people who only have menial, temporary jobs) and around 1750 they started to be called “gauderios”, a word that comes from the Uruguayan-Brazillian border. Some authors (like Coni) say it appears in 1770, but there’s a letter written by Francisco Bruno de Zabala to the Capitán y Gobernador General del Río de la Plata, saying “...whom we call “gauderios” here, people who live however they want to without anybody knowing where they come from, or what they eat, since they don’t work...”[6] . The letter was written in 1746, in Uruguay.
The word is believed to have a Portuguese origin, it comes from a verb that means “to live the good life” and is used to designate a lot of “mestizos” with no clear source of income. In Portuguese it means bum, lazy, etc. Gauderios were usually called “vagos y mal entretenidos” by the authorities (“lazy and prone to do bad things”), they already had most of the features of the “classical” gaucho: they were skilled horsemen (although they didn’t take good care of their plentyful animals), they always carried a big knife which was their main tool and most precious posesion, and they were skilled with the lazo (I think you call it laso in English, you know, the rope thingies cowboys used as well). And, last but not least, always seemed to have disagreements with the government.

The first time the word gaucho was used was in 1771 (at least the first recorded use of the word), in a report from an army commander to the Viceroy in which he said that since some “gauchos had been seen in the mountains...” he had sent a detachment of militia to try to “find the evil-doers”[7]. It appears again in 1790 in a report sent by Lorenzo Figueredo to José Varela y Ulloa. “...evil thieves, desertors and temporary workers of all sorts, called gauderios or gauchos..”[8] .

There are two possible origins for the word gaucho. One is that it is yet another deformed Portuguese word. Some authors think that it comes from the Portuguese word “garrucho”, but I don’t really like this theory. I prefer the one that says that it comes from the French word “gauche” (“left”), which was used in Spain as a cool way for sailors and land surveyors to describe a surface that was slanted or crooked, it then became common to use the term to describe a crooked individual. There’s a 1787 Portuguese document that says “...we found some ruined shanties and tracks of skinners and countryside gauches”, later on in the same document it says “gauche is a Spanish word used in this country to describe bums or rural thieves, cow hunters, who are usually kill wild cattle, skin them, and take the hides in secret to settlements to sell or trade them”[9] . See? Even the Portuguese agree with me.

Thoughout their existance, gauchos lived side by side with blood and death. Long years fighting the indians (usually a lot longer than what the law said), the need to be self sufficient in the wild pampas and the danger of their day to day life made them lonely people, usually quiet and melancholic. Their work and their everyday needs made the knife their most trusted friend, firearms were not really appreciated (nor could they be afforded) by gauchos, only some outlaws in the late 19th century used them a lot.
Dueling with knives was very common, lonely nomads don’t usually have the greatest social skills, and as soon as a few gathered at a “pulpería” (a bar and shop) for a few drinks, somebody would offend somebody else and after two or three witty remarks, knives would be drawn. Fights usually ended at first blood, the idea was to do the minimal damage possible and show your opponent that you were better than him. Fighting a man armed with a knife with the metal scabbard of you own knife, or using the wooden handle of your rebenque (a short whip) were ways to show you were above him. Cuts to the face were especially celebrated by the public.

When the fighters were too drunk, they really hated each other, or there was a woman in the middle, somebody would die. The killer would then flea, if he fought a fair fight it was customary to let him take the fastest horse of the ones gathered at that place. I’ll write more on duels and their etiquette later. If you’ve seen some pictures of navaja duels in Andalucía (Spain), then you already have some idea. We fight like them, poncho rolled on the left hand, knife on the right (in fact I still knife hunt like that when the critter has teeth, like mountain lions).

Of course, the clothes of the gaucho changed a lot from the 17th century to the 19th. At first, they wore clothes similar to those used by European seamen and Spanish mule drivers. Then they addopted some clothes from the indians, and finally they started using the now traditional “bombachas de campo” (“field breaches”) which are a copy of the pants used by the British army in Crimea, which were in turn based on Turkish pants. They were brought here by some Argentinian army officers who bought surplus pants from the British.

This is just to give you a general idea, which will be nonetheless much better than what the average Argentine knows. Each topic in this description of the gaucho can be discussed for ever, I’ve got entire books about clothing. A little tip, for a good source in English, try Darwin. He stopped in Argentina and Uruguay during his travels and made some comments about our huge knives.

Notes
1“Porteños” are the inhabitants of Buenos Aires, named after the harbour- “puerto” in Spanish- that gave the city of Buenos Aires a huge income through trade taxes and was also an exit point for Argentinian exports (for a long time it was the only port that could trade with other countries, that created some frictions and internal wars with the other provinces, but that’s a whole other story).
2 Spaniards had a different conquest scheme to the English. They didn’t bring settlers with their families, they brought soldiers. Spanish conquest was a military/religious affair, so the lack of Spanish women was a constant during the first years of any of their settlements in South America. This led to Spanish soldiers taking aboriginal women as their wives (creating some conflict with the natives), which in turn spawned a big “mestizo” (half-breed) population. Once “pure” Spanish families settled down at the colonies, mestizos were considered second class citizens and the interacial marriages stopped.
3 “…no trate de economizar sangre de gaucho. Éste es un abono que es preciso para hacer útil al país. La sangre es lo único que tienen de seres humanos esos salvajes”.
4 Created by king Carlos III of Spain, it comprised Argentina, Uruguay, Chile, Paraguay and Bolivia.
5 “personas sin Dios, ni Rey, ni Ley.” Acta del Cabildo February 3rd, 1721
6 “…a los que aquí llamamos gauderios, gente que vive como quiere sin saber de dónde vienen, o de qué se alimentan, pues no trabajan…”
7 “habiendo tenido noticias de que algunos gauchos se habían dejado ver en la sierra” “por ver si podían encontrar a los malhechores”.
8 “…malévolos ladrones, desertores y peones de todas las castas, que llaman gauderios o gauchos…” April 30th 1790
9 “…encontramos ranchitos destrozados y vestigios de cuereadores y gauches de campo…” “gauche es una palabra española usada en este país para designar a los vagabundos o ladrones de campo, los cuales vaqueros, acostumbrados a matar a los cimarrones, a sacarles los cueros y a llevarlos a escondidas a las poblaciones, para su venta o trueque por otros géneros”

Part II: A few notes on the origin of traditional Argentinian knives


Argentinian knives can trace their origin back to the knives brought by the Spanish conquistadors, no surprises there. Not only were the knives inherited from the Spaniards, but most of their “knife culture” was absorved as well. In Andalucía, in the South of Spain, knives were a big part of life. I don’t know if you’re at all familiar with “gitanos” (gypsies) from Andalucía, but the main occupation amongst them is being a bladesmith. Lorca’s poetry is full of metalworking metaphors.

The surviving navajas and knives are a testament to the skills of those smiths. From paintings, you can see Andaluces fought in a very similar way to gauchos, their capes or “chaquetillas” (short jackets) wrapped around their left arm like the gaucho wrapped his poncho. There are other similarities, like the way the knife is carried (under the belt, behind the back) and, of course, the love of horses. Andalucía has some of the most beautiful horses on Earth, and horsemanship is a highly regarded skill (remember that for eight centuries this part of Spain was under the control of horseriding tribes from North Africa, during Muslim times, when Andalucía was still Al-Andaluz). Even our accent has a hint of “Andaluz” accent, noticeable in our “s” and “c”. I don’t want to get into detail, I know I can get carried away and forget all about knives, so here’s a little excerpt from “Facundo” by Domingo F. Sarmiento (the president I mentioned earlier). My translation aims more at transmiting the information contained in his writing that at reproducing its literary beauty.

“El gaucho anda armado de el cuchillo que ha heredado de los españoles: esta peculiaridad de la Península, este grito característico de Zaragoza, ¡Guerra a cuchillo!, es aquí más real que en España. El cuchillo, a más de un arma, es un instrumento que le sirve para todas sus ocupaciones: no puede vivir sin él; es como la trompa del elefante, su brazo, su mano, su todo. El gaucho, a la par de jinete, hace alarde de valiente, y el cuchillo brilla a cada momento, describiendo círculos en el aire, a la menor provocación, sin provocación alguna, sin otro interés que medirse con un desconocido; juega a las puñaladas, como jugaría a los dados. Tan profundamente entran estos hábitos pendencieros en la vida íntima del gaucho argentino, que las costumbres han creado sentimientos de honor y una esgrima que garantiza la vida. El hombre de la plebe de los demás países toma el cuchillo para matar, y mata; el gaucho argentino, lo desenvaina para pelear; y hiere solamente. Es preciso que esté muy borracho, es preciso que tenga instintos verdaderamente malos, o rencores muy profundos, para que atente contra la vida de su adversario. Su objeto es solo marcarlo, darle una tajada en la cara, dejarle una señal indeleble. Así, se ve a estos gauchos llenos de cicatrices, que rara vez son profundas. La riña, pues, se traba por brillar, por la gloria del vencimiento, por amor a la reputación. Ancho círculo se forma en torno a los combatientes, y los ojos siguen con pasión y avidez el centelleo de los puñales, que no cesan de agitarse un momento. Cuando la sangre corre a torrentes, los espectadores se creen obligados, en conciencia, a separarlos. Si sucede alguna desgracia, las simpatías están por el que se desgració: el mejor caballo le sirve para salvarse a parajes lejanos, y allí lo acoje el respeto o la compasión. Si la justicia le da alcance, no es raro que haga frente, y si corre a la partida, adquiere un renombre, desde entonces, que se dilata sobre una ancha circunferencia. Trascurre el tiempo, el juez se ha mudado, y ya puede presentarse de nuevo en su pago, absuelto. Matar es una desgracia, a menos que el hecho se repita tantas veces, que inspire horror el contacto del asesino…”

Translation:

“The gaucho is armed with the knife he inherited from the Spaniards: this particular thing from the Peninsula, this characteristic battle-cry from Zaragoza, “War with knives!”, is even more real here than in Spain. The knife, besides being a weapon, is an instrument that serves him in all his chores: he can’t live without it; it’s like the elephant’s trump, his arm, his hand, his everything. The gaucho, in addition to his horsemanship, brags about his bravery, and the knife shines at every chance, drawing circles in the air, at the slightest provocation, or with no provocation at all, with no other goal than testing himself against a stranger; knife fighting is a game, played as if he were playing craps. These brawling habits are so deeply embeded into the Argentinian gaucho’s intimate life, that costumes have developed a sense of honor and a fencing technique that garantees life. The low class man from other countries grabs the knife to kill, and he kills; the Argentine gaucho, unsheathes his knife to fight; and he only wounds. He needs to be very drunk, he needs to have truly evil instincts or a very deep grudge, to make an atempt against his opponents life. His goal is just to scar him, slash his face, leave a permanent mark. That’s the reason why one can see all those gauchos covered with scars, which are rarely deep. The fight is started, then, to shine, for the glory of victory, for the love of reputation. A broad circleis formed around the fighters, and the eyes follow the sparkling blades, that don’t stop moving for a moment, with passion and eagerness. When blood starts flowing in rivers, the spectators feel obligated by their conciense to break the fighters apart. If anything unfortunate happens, the public’s simpathy goes to the one that fell out of grace [id est, the killer]: the best horse is given to him to seek distant places, where he is met with respect or compasion. If the law catches up to him, it’s not strange for him to hold his ground, if he can force the party of soldiers into flight, he aquires a reknown, from that day on, that will grow through the land. Time goes by, the judge moves to another town, and he can return to his homeland, free of guilt. To kill is an unfortunate event, unless it is repeated so many times that the killer’s contact causes horror.”

A lot of very interesting points are raised in this little text, about the origin of our knives as well as our knife culture. I’ll discuss the ones pertinent to fighting when I get to that point.

Argentina wasn’t, by far, the most important Spanish colony in South America. We didn’t have mines that could generate the profits of the Peruvian and Bolivian silver (Potosí, a silver mining town in the middle of the Bolivian Andes, had more inhabitants than London and Paris), we didn’t have very good ports (Buenos Aires is a port in a shallow river that needs work to be able to receive large ships, and the sea ports down South were still uncharted territory) and the indians here were very agressive. They didn’t have an organization that could be used against them, there was no head to attack or cities to use as strategic objectives. In fact, Buenos Aires is not the oldest city in the country and wasn’t always the most important. Salta in the Northwest is the oldest, conquest came from the North, from the Spanish bases in Perú and Bolivia (known as Alto Perú at the time). Some expeditions did come by sea, but they were mostly interested in exploring the rivers and looking for a passage between the Atlantic and Pacific oceans.

By now you are probably wondering what the hell all this has to do with knives, well, it gives you an idea of the sort of conquistadores that came to the Pampas. Most of the men that came to South America from Spain were not the nicest sort of fellows, some minor nobles, lots of mercenaries. The most succesful of those took the Mexican and Peruvian gold, the Bolivian silver, those who couldn’t make it there came down here. So we got second class folks from a group that was already far from the cream of the crop, but some of them had been in South America for a while and could be considered veterans of sorts.

Their equipment wasn’t in the best shape, you should see what the humidity in this places will do to carbon steel, and once the indians got over the “wow” factor of gunpowder weapons the Spanish had to rely on their hand to hand fighting skills to overpower them. When Mendoza founded Buenos Aires for the first time, in 1536, his inventory included “knives from Balduque (Bois le Ducq, Holland); Bohemian knives; knives from Flanders; daggers from Toledo...”. He also requisitioned eight dozen German knives from a Genoese ship.

Knives from Flanders were to prove a big influence on Argentine knives. They were very popular amongst Spaniards, specially those from the South. Remember that Spain ruled over that part of Europe as well during this time. In fact, so big was the influnce of these knives that the word “flamenco” (Flemish) meant “knife” in both Argentina and Andalucía. Albacete knives were also quite popular, as were the later knives known as “Mediteranean daggers” (which greatly influenced the puñal criollo as well as some early bowies).

Mendoza’s “Santa María de los Buenos Aires” (the first name of our city) didn’t really work out that well. The men were starved, besieged by hostile indians who didn’t seem interested in trading, the bible or anything else the Spaniards had to offer (we had the coolest indians!). Buenos Aires was burnt down and had to be built again by Garibaldi’s expedition (around 1580), Mendoza died at sea in 1537. However, before the settlement was abandoned in 1541 the first knifesmith opened his shop in Argentina. In a letter written in Asunción (Paraguay, where the settlers from Buenos Aires took refuge) in 1556, Domingo Martínez addresses the Spanish king: “Sacra Cesárea Majestad: en la primera habitación de Buenos Ayres, siendo como era venido de España con don Pedro de Mendoza, y siendo un pobre estudiante que no sabia oficio alguno cosa alguna, vista la necesidad que en aquel tiempo había, hice anzuelos… hice asimismo peines, en tiempos que para peinarse la barba no alcanzaban los hombres un peine… Después de esto, hice cuchillos amolados y encabados al modo de los que traen de Flandes… he hecho dagas, que han sido necesarias y son, por que a avido muchos que se an visto con los yndios en trabajo, y a no tener daga, hazen dellos los yndios lo que quieren y afrontan…”

Old Spanish is impossible to translate literalty into modern English (at least for somebody with my modest skills). The letter says that Martínez came to South America from Spain with Mendoza. He was a student with no trade or skills, so he started making things that Mendoza’s men needed. He started to make fishing hooks, then combs (apparently you have to look good while you’re starved by indians) and finally knives “after the fashion of those brought from Flanders” and daggers for people to defend themselves from the indians when working in the fields. He wasn’t really a smith, since he says his knives are “amolados” (ground), probably from sword blades that had sucumbed to rust or wear.

Big daggers seemed to replace long swords as the prefered weapon to fight the indians, at least when it wasn’t an organized military action. Some authors say that it has to do with both the normal wear of the swords (remember these guys where here for around 5 years, and some of them brought equipment that was far from brand new), and the fact that the indians quickly learned that they needed to get really close to the Spaniards if they wanted to avoid their formidable swords (from what I’ve seen at archeological sites and museums throughout the continent, gunpowder and horses or not, these guys could fight). Plus some of the Spanish sailors were just better with a knife than they were with a sword.

Iron and steel were always very scarce in the colonies, so most of the knife blades were recicled. That’s why you can see a stamp from Carlos IV royal arsenal on a “pampa” (indian) facón, or a shortened 16th century sword from Toledo used as a working knife. Although we can classify most criollo knives, it’s important to understand that a gaucho, much like his Spanish predecesors, would use anything that worked. Any source for metal was good, and any edged tool was appreciated. I’ve seen bowie clip point blades with criollo style handles and sheaths, a 19th century Joseph Rogers Kandjhar used as a rural work knife and even a Mora used as a verijero.

With time, after the country’s independance in 1816 (we revolted against the Spanish six years earlier, and effectively kicked them out them, since they were few here, but we didn’t declare our independance until 1816), imported blades and knives started coming into the country. Solingen made blades were specially coveted, and most Argentines, to this day, think “Solingen steel” is some sort of brand name. Later on some German factories (like Böker and Herder) started making blades and knives for the South American market, following local designs. These imported blades usually bore the stamp of the importer, as well as the trademark of the maker. Not many gauchos could read, so most of the brand names are refered to by the drawing on the blade, Boker is called “little tree” (Arbolito, which they later adopted), Herder as “ace of spades” or “crossed keys”, Kirshbaum was known as “helmet”, etc.

The local manufacture of blades, at least factory produced blades, didn’t start until the 1930s and 1940s. Germany, England and France stopped exporting knives during the war, and Tandil (a city in the province of Buenos Aires) became the local production centre. Some called it “the Argentinian Solingen”, which is not even remotely close to the truth. There was a time, some fourty or fifty years ago, when there were excellent knives coming from Tandil, that has changed. I only have one really good Tandil blade in my collection (an Atahualpa that was polished and convexed by a knifemaker after I bought it). The heat treat is hit or miss, since they don’t really expect their knives to see real action, the stainless ones are specially bad. They come VERY dull, but if you get a good carbon steel one (older blades were 1095, now they are using something a lot worse) you can turn it into a decent working knife. There are a few decent blade factories now, most of them market their products as steak knives rather than working tools. If I had to choose a modern factory made blade, I’d go with a carbon steel (1080) “Argentina” brand blade. They are quite well made and priced properly.

Part III: Different types of criollo knives

Different authors have different views when it comes to organizing the different criollo knife patterns. I feel that the best work done to define each type of criollo knife is Abel Domenech’s research in his book “Dagas de Plata”, he is a very knowledgeable Argentinian collector (perhaps the man with the biggest and most important knife collection in the country). Most of the modern Argentinian makers and collectors agree with him, so most of the following information is either taken from his books or from his lectures at knife shows.

1)_ El Facón

The facón is the quintessential gaucho weapon, most laymen will call any knife associated with gauchos a facón. It’s, first and foremost, a fighting knife. Long, narrow blades with double guards and sharp, pointy, tips are not the features of a working knife.
In his book “Instrucción al estanciero” (a sort of primer filled with advice for land owners, published in 1882) José Hernández (see notes) wrote:
“A los peones no se les debe admitir facón, porque no sirve para el trabajo. Deben usar cuchillo, y siempre bien afilado. A esta precaución deberán ellos alguna vez la salvación de sus vidas en los peligros consiguientes a su trabajo, o podrán salvar la de algún compañero.”

Translation:
“Hired men shouldn’t be allowed to carry a facón, since it’s useless for work. They have to carry a working knife, and keep it very sharp. This precaution could save their lives from the dangers inherent to their job, or they could save a fellow worker.”

The name “facón” seems to have a Portuguese origin. Gauchos from Uruguay (then known as Banda Oriental) fought the Portuguese quite often, before and after their independence from Spain, they also traded and smuggled cattle to the South of Brazil. Faca is Portuguese for knife, “facao” means big knife, and sounds like “facón” to Spanish speakers. The first recorded use of the word in Argentina is in 1790, in a file about criminal activity.

The usual blade length for facones is from 30 to 40cm, although there are longer ones, with a width of 25 to 30mm. Have you seen a 1909 Mauser bayonet? That blade is just like a facón.

Although facones had only one edge, sometimes the swedge over the point was sharpened as well. The blades were mostly recycled from bayonets, swords and sabres (that’s why you might see some facones with a slightly curved blade).
Facones with very long blades were carried between different parts of the saddle (the criollo saddle, “recado de montar” is a marvellous survival tool made up of layers of blankets, hides, etc., it makes a wonderful bed!), called “caronas”. That’s why very large facones are called “caroneros” (there can also be dagas caroneras). Although they are very popular with collectors, they weren’t carried very often. Only “matreros” (outlaws) and soldiers used them.

Most facón blades have fullers, and all myths about bleeding an enemy faster, etc. are present in Argentina as well.

In the early times, blades were hard to come by, and anything was used. Domenech found a “pampa” (indian) knife with a blade that had belonged to the Toledo arsenal in 1790, and had king Charle’s IV seal. It wasn’t until the second half of the 19th century that local importers (“casas introductoras”) started to bring blades from Europe to make facones. Solingen and Toledo blades were very appreciated and became almost legendary, although excellent blades from France, England and Belgium where imported as well.

Besides its long, single edged, blade the other characteristic that defines a facón is the presence of a guard. It might be small (some caroneros have small guards to be easy to draw from underneath the saddle), or big and ornate, but it is always there. There are several different shapes, “U”, “S” (this one was quite popular), a small oval guard (called “crucero”), a simple straight guard.

Sometimes between the blade and the guard you can find what we call “empatilladura”, which is basically a piece of silver or nickel silver that covers the ricasso and reinforces the union of the blade, the guard and the handle.

Handle materials were very varied, anything on hand was used. I’ve seen facones with stacked card handles, playing cards stacked just like you would do with leather and coated with varnish. Cow horn, stag horn, silver, wood. Anything could be used.
Facones, like most criollo knives, are carried behind the back, in sheaths usually made out of leather, sometimes with metal decorations (the tips are usually covered in silver or nickel silver, a wise security measure for a horseman).
They saw some utility use, but the design is clearly that of a weapon.

2)_ La Daga

Dagas are easy to identify because they always have a double edge. Some are similar in size to facones, some are smaller (dagas verijeras) and some are larger (dagas caroneras). Some people call facones “dagas”, some manufacturers call single edged blades with fullers “dagas”.

Dagas usually had guards, but not always. There’s an interesting superstition about daggers without guards, country folk say that if you’re killed with a guard-less dagger, your soul is trapped on Earth and can’t get into heaven, so people who carry daggers without a guard are usually disdained. This has two origins, the first is that the word for guard in Spanish (one of them, at least) is “cruz” (cross), and the lack of a “cruz” makes the weapon non-Christian. The other possible origin for this myth, and the lack of respect towards people who carry daggers without a guard, is that the only reason why you would want a fighting knife like a dagger to be guard-less is to be able to hide it better. In a society where people carried 40cm blades openly, the only people who would want to conceal a knife were assassins. A dagger without a guard meant you weren’t looking for the usual “duelo criollo”, a highly ritualized engagement.

Like with facones, blades were made from broken swords or old European daggers. I have a nice example of a Spanish hunting dagger with a criollo style handle and sheath. Later on, “casas introductorias” started to import dagger blades from Europe.

3)_ El puñal criollo

Sometimes called simply “cuchillo” (knife), it’s one of the most interesting variants of criollo knives. It’s the one that is still widely used today, it has received different influences from around the world and silversmiths have done some of their bestwork on puñales.

The origin of the name is not very clear. “Puñal” means that it can fit inside the hand, or that it is designed to be used with one hand (fist, actually, since “puño” means fist). Some think that it comes from the Latin word “pugna”, which means “fight”, and so would be a fighting weapon. This seems a bit odd, since there are other criollo knives better suited to be used as fighting implements, and the puñal is more of a work knife.

The blade of puñales criollos is triangular or spear shaped. The earlier examples usually have a straight back and a rather straight edge, then it slowly started to evolve into a spearpoint blade, with a curved edge with more belly (which is probably a better utility design).

A typical detail of puñales criollos are the forged “botones” (the small integral bolster where the blade meets the handle). These botones have different shapes depending on their place of origin, in Uruguay and the South of Brasil they are round, the ones known as “porteños” (from Buenos Aires) are square.

Blades have lengths between 12 and 30cm (although bigger examples exist, as well as very few smaller ones). Small puñales criollos, with blades of around 10 to 12cm (sometimes 15cm), are called verijeros since they are carried “at 1 o’clock”, near the groin area (called “verija” by gauchos).

Some puñales criollos have a swedge towards the point, taking up between 1/3 and ¼ of the length of the spine. They slowly got smaller, and some users like their puñales without the swedge so knifemakers and some knife companies offer blades without a swedge.

The blades for puñales criollos were imported by the local “casas introductoras” from France, Germany, Belgium and England. Sometimes the mark of the manufacturer was left on the blade, sometimes the mark of the importer was used, other times it was a combination of both and, to complicate things a bit, sometimes a different brand name (that was a trademark of the importer) was used. This creates a huge amount of trouble for collectors, most of them have a big pile of charts with drawings of the different blade stamps and as much information on them as possible. Stamps with drawings were very popular, because most of the knife users in the country side were illiterate, or just couldn’t pronounce complicated French and German names. So instead of “Herder Abr. Sohn” they would call the company “ace of spades”, the same happened with Boker (arbolito), and many others that lost their original name and became, “helmet”, “trumpet”, “the hunter”,etc. Sometimes, the importers stamped these “criollo” names on the blades because they became better known than the manufacturer’s original name.
As you probably realized by the fact that all the blades were imported, puñales criollos are not as old as dagas and facones that were made from recicled blades before trade with Europe was well established. The oldest puñales I’ve seen were from the 19th century, they were very similar to Mediteranean daggers. I don’t know if you’re familiar with that type of knife, it looks like a very streamlined version of a puñal, and some authors think that it is a common ancestor shared by the puñal criollo and the American Bowie knife (one of Rezin’s bowies looks like a puñal criollo with a guard, but I’m no expert on bowies).

Most puñales were assembled in Argentina with European blades, but some were brought as complete knives from Europe, decorated in a criollo style. I have a Herder verijero with a 12cm blade that I use a lot, it was built in Germany and imported as a finished knife. Puñales, like facones and most dagas, have a hidden tang.

There are two characteristics of puñales criollos that have originated all sorts of crazy knife myths. The first one is the simple file work found on many of the blades, which is nothing more than decoration. Some people say they are meant to be used as wire cutters, others say it is a sort of saw or a way to help count cows. Some puñales, specially the bigger ones, have a very particular polish. The first part of the blade, from the “botón” to the manufacturer’s stamp, was polished perpendicular to the edge; the rest of the knife was polished parallel to the edge. The popular belief was that this was a way to show a differential heat treat, with the first portion of the edge left softer to chop.Any big knife user knows that the part of the blade you chop with is not the first two inches closer to the handle! This sort of polish was done, in the beginning, because it was more comfortable to reach the botón area if it was polished perpendicular to the edge. Later on it became a standard decoration on some of the larger puñales.

During the years of WWII, imports from Europe stopped, since they couldn’t spare the steel and the ships to sell some knives. That created a local industry which was once quite good and now is pretty bad, mainly focused on selling knives to tourists and weekend gauchos. I would never buy an Argentine production knife, even Boker is having QC problems, and they are usually more expensive than a quality hand made custom. Most of the production criollo knives are made in Tandil, a city in the Buenos Aires Province. Recently I’ve been quite impressed with carbon steel blades from a brand called “Argentina”, they use decent materials (1080), have a good overall finish and a very good priced (especially compared to Bokers that cost more than a much better custom knife).

4)_ La Cuchilla

There isn’t much to say about this one, it’s basically a butcher’s knife, although some are quite pretty with very high quality blades. They have full flat tangs, a broad blade and were used mainly as working knives, there are a couple of recorded fights using them, but you know what they say about the perfect fighting knife.

Decent quality cuchillas were, and are, cheap when compared to any other sort of knife, so they have always been a popular choice for rural workers. Nowadays, if you go to any country house, chacra (small farm) or estancia, you’ll probably find lots of cuchillas with their blades narrowed from decades of use.

Gauchos and rural workers will call any knife with lots of belly a “cuchilla”. There are different types of cuchilla, basically the different meat processing knives. The “naife” is a good example, it’s a skinner that was issued by the British owned meat processing plants, Argentine workers couldn’t pronounce “knife” properly, so it became known as a naife. The Bark River Mountain Man is exactly what we would call a naife. Victorinox skinners are very highly regarded.

5)_ El Cuchillo de Campo

Cuchillos de campo are, basically, a puñal criollo with a full flat tang. Instead of the integral bolster (botón) they have regular bolsters (falso botón), usually made of nickel silver.

Although they seemed to be quite popular they were only imported as complete knives from Europe from 1920 to around 1950. There are lots of them left in pretty good condition. I think that most criollo “purists” don’t like the bolsters.

Lately some users and makers have been trying to get criollo style knives out in the field again, and a new type of cuchillo de campo was born. It’s known as a “criollo integral”, and it’s a cuchillo de campo (full flat tang, usually tapered) with an integral forged bolster (the good old botón we like so much!). I love them, they are pricey (twice or three times the price of a similar puñal criollo) but well worth it, specially when compared to the price of production knives of much lower quality. I see them as the modern criollo knives, made with great steels and modern techniques but with a distinct traditional flavour.

Notes:
José Hernández was a writter and journalist, who also took part in some of out internal wars (as well as Uruguay’s), like the so-called “Gaucho Rebelión” led by López Jordán. He wrote the story of gaucho Martín Fierro, which is considered a milestone in Argentine literature (more because of the very accurate depiction of the rural life than for its actual quality).