"Deep based on equally vile sentiments in the people, stands the most

sensual government; and unrestrained arbitrary power needs no other

protection than these;--_the separation fraternal hearts by the means

of jealously-guarded frontiers_, of the leading-strings of strict and

public surveillance; of _cradle-songs, and the sermons of sloth_; and

it rests itself as upon very sufficient props, on the wages and the

oaths of police and soldiers. Many amongst the great German people may

stand far before me; but _I also hate nothing more than the cowardice

and effeminacy of this day_. I must give an example of this. I must

proclaim myself against this laxity; and I know nothing nobler to

achieve than to strike down the arch-slave, and _great advocate of this

mercenary time, the corrupter and betrayer of my people--August von

Kotzebue!_

"Thou, my German People, exalt thyself, to a higher moral worth of

manhood; of the free spirit of man, and his creative strength! My

German People! thou hast no realler nor nobler possession; it is thy

highest good. Honour, guard this faith--this thy love to God. Let thy

sanctuary no more be trodden under foot.

"Man, be he born in the most miserable and abject condition, is created

to become an image of God. Rely on the promised Christian freedom.

Honour and trust only the free man. Detest the traitors, the slaves in

soul, the false teachers, who will not have this. Hate the dastardly

poets of half-measures, the preachers of cowardice, the hirelings who

hold thee back from every bold enterprise. Detest and murder all those

who lift themselves so high in their villanous and despotic fancies

that they forget the godlike in thee, and hold and drive thee, the mad

multitude, in their high-wise hands, as a complex wheel.

"Free conscience! free speech! Man shall solace himself at his own free

pleasure in the divine light, of which the fountain is in him. He shall

strive after the highest discoveries, and shall be able, unburdened by

those of others, to prove and build up his own convictions. But man

also shall verify these opinions; he shall live and act; he shall

exercise his divine creative power--his will, and shall make it

availing. It is for this that we have received the whole might of

will--not that we may suffer others to decide what they please

concerning us, as over a piece of a field, but that in every condition

of life we may determine for ourselves; and therein all virtue

demonstrates itself--that we, in every thing which concerns the people,

shall take a lively interest, and so act upon our own resolves, each as

we will, and not as another compels.

"_Finally, make free your wills!_

"This is the sole, purely human, this the necessary foundation for

every human society: this must be won for the German Empire! Only when

this sole and righteous condition is achieved, then only can be the

discussion on further undertakings.

"My German people! win self-dependence, and that lofty mind, which

already some of thy heroes have borne in them. This is the right,

hallowed spirit of life, that thou dost that which the sacred

Scriptures of Christendom and of antiquity teach--that which thy poets

sing; and admirest or regardest them not merely as empty fables.

Brother! proudly and courageously shalt thou win by high endeavour,

that highest and holiest object which thy soul can conceive--the

condition of a purified, and beatified manhood--

A Christ canst thou become.

"So learn, my People, the time in which, after long wandering, joy and

unity shall come back into this life. The Reformation, begun three

hundred years ago, sought to restore the life of our people after the

image of God. It is not yet completed! for yet continue compulsion of

conscience, servitude, tearing asunder of brothers in our country, and

no one can rejoice himself after a Christian and purely human form.

Brothers, break the ancient chains of the Popedom, the chains of

arbitrary rule! We Germans,--one empire and one church! Let the schism

betwixt spiritual and secular be annihilated! Faith, learning, and

action, shall unite themselves into one, and bloom anew in the

Christian enthusiasm of free German citizens.

"The Reformation must be completed! Brothers, abandon not one another

in the oppressions of the times. Sluggishness and treason blacken

history with the hand of slavery! You have it before you!

"Up! I show you the great day of freedom! Up, my people, bethink thee;

make thyself free!"

The writing of Sand "To the Burschenschaft in Jena," and the other "To

my Friends of the true German mind," were completed only a few days

before his setting out; and finally he composed also a so-called

"Sentence of Death against Kotzebue." He left behind, in his desk, a

statement of the debts which his parents should pay; and an order that

his books and other things should be sent home. He empowered a student,

to receive all current letters and money for him. He contracted for his

lodgings with his landlord for the ensuing half-year. To those who

asked whither he was going, he gave the double-meaning answer--"Home."

A letter was also found addressed to his parents, as follows:

"_To Father, Mother, Brothers, Sisters, Brother-in-law, Teachers,

and all Friends! True, eternally true souls!_

"Why still more aggravate your pain? I thought, and hesitated to write

to you on this business. Truly, if you received the intelligence of

what has occurred at once, might the bitter sorrow the easier and

quicker pass over; but the truth of affection would in that case be

wounded, and this great affliction can only be wholly conquered by our

emptying the whole cup of wo at once, and thus keeping faithful to our

friend the true, the eternal Father in heaven. So from the shut-up

bosom, forth thou long, great pang of the last speech; plain dealing

can alone soften the agony of parting. This sheet brings to you the

last greeting of the son and the brother! Much and continually have I

talked and wished, it is now time that I left dreaming, and the trouble

of my Fatherland impels me to action. This is unquestionably the

highest misery in this earth-life, if the affairs of God, through

guilt, come to a dead pause in their lively developement; this is for

us the most overwhelming disgrace, if all that beauty and good which

would have been boldly pursued by thousands and on whose account

thousands have joyfully offered themselves up, as dream-shapes, without

abiding consequence, now sinks away into dark discontent; if the

reformation of the old life, now in its half-way advance, stand

petrified. Our grandchildren would have to bewail this neglect. The

commencement of the restoration of German life was made with spirits

animated by God, within the last twenty years, and especially in

that hallowed season 1813. The paternal house is shaken to the

foundations--forwards! let us raise it again, fresh and beautiful, a

true temple of God, as our hearts long after it. They are but a few who

oppose themselves as a dam against the stream of the evolutions of the

higher humanity in the German people; why then do whole hosts bow

themselves again under the yoke of these knaves? shall our once awaked

salvation perish again? Many of the most abandoned traitors play their

game without obstruction, with us, to the complete corruption of our

people. Among these, Kotzebue is the subtlest and most malicious; the

actual tool and mouthpiece of every thing base in our time, and his

voice is exactly fitted to beguile us Germans of all bitterness and

opposition to the most unrighteous usurpations, and to lull us into the

old indolent slumber. He practises daily arch-treason against the

Fatherland, and then stands there, protected by his hypocritical

speeches, and artful flatteries, and wrapped in the mantle of a great

political reputation, spite of his wickedness, as an idol for the half

of Germany, which blinded by him, willingly imbibes the poison which,

for Russian pay, he prepares for them in his daily publications. Will

not the greatest disaster befall us? Will not the history of our day be

blackened with everlasting shame? He must perish! I say continually if

any saving influence is to arise, we must not shrink from strife and

toil; the true freedom of the German people then only awakes in us,

when challenged and dared by the brave,--when the son of the Fatherland

in the contest for the right and for the highest good, casts all other

love? behind him, and loves death alone.

"That this may be, who shall rush upon this pitiful fellow, upon this

hireling traitor, Kotzebue? In anguish and bitter tears turned to the

Almighty, have I waited a long time for the appearance of one who would

step before me, and release me, not fitted for murder, would release me

from my pain, and leave me to proceed on the pleasant path that I have

chosen. Spite of all my prayers, no one has appeared, and each has as

good a right as myself to wait for another. Delay makes our condition

continually worse and more pitiable; and who shall absolve us from the

shame, if Kotzebue leave German ground unpunished, and shall enjoy in

Russia a fortune acquired by his treason? Who shall help and save us

out of this unhappy condition, if every one, and I in my province first

of all, feels not the call to maintain justice, and to do what ought to

be done for German Fatherland? So then boldly forward! I will assault

him with a heart confident in God to strike down the calumniator and

betrayer of our brethren--the horrible traitor! that he may cease from

turning us from God and history, and plotting to deliver us into the

hands of the cunningest enemy. Solemn duty compels me to it. Since I

have discovered what a lofty prize our people have in the present time

to wrestle for--and that he is the cowardly false villain that would

prevent their destiny--it is become for me, as for every German who

regards the well-being of the whole, a rigorous _Must!_ May I direct

the eyes of all active and public-spirited men, to where danger and

falsehood threaten, and turn, in time, the fear of all, and the

vigorous youth to the right point, that they may save the common

Fatherland, Germany, the perpetually rent, the unworthy states-union,

from an imminent danger. May I scatter terror over the base and the

cowardly, and courage over the good! Writing and speaking effect

nothing--it is action alone that now creates union. May I, at least,

cast a brand into the present indifference, and rouse and augment the

flame of popular feeling, that glorious struggle for the affairs of God

amongst mankind, which burned in us in 1813--then were all my highest

and holiest wishes fulfilled! On this account, though startled out of

all lovely dreams of coming life, still am I calm, full of trust in

God; yea, happy, since I see the path sketched out for me through Night

and Death, by which I may pay back to my Fatherland all that I owe it.

"So farewell, you dear souls! This sudden parting falls heavily, and

your expectations and my wishes are probably disappointed; yet may this

have prepared us, and therefore now be our comfort--that what the

necessity of the Fatherland demands, is the first of all things to be

desired by us, and has always lived in me as the most inviolable

principle. You may hereafter say and think among yourselves--'Yet had

he through our sacrifices learnt to know the whole of life on this

earth, the joy there is in this human society; and he appeared to love

this land, and his chosen profession heartily.' Yes, so was it; so did

I under your affectionate guardianship. Through your countless

sacrifices and cares for me, are my land and life become so thoroughly

dear to me; you caused me to be introduced into the world of knowledge;

I have lived in the active pursuits of a free spirit; I have glanced

into history, and then turned back into my own mind in order to twine

myself up by the tendril of the spirit firmly to the pillar of faith in

the Eternal, and through the free inquiries of my understanding, to

acquire a clearer perception of myself and of the greatness of

surrounding things. I have cultivated the sciences in the usual course

with all my power, and reached thereby the position and capacity to

oversee the district of human knowledge, and have thereupon spoken out

my convictions with friends and other persons; have travelled the

country, to learn, to know men and their doings. As a preacher of the

gospel would I joyfully have spent this life, and in any possible

overthrow of our social customs and of knowledge, by the help of God,

would have discharged faithfully the duties of my office.

"But should all this have withheld me from warding off more imminent

danger from my country? Must not your unspeakable love for me directly

spur me on to set death at defiance for the common good and the object

of all our endeavours? What numbers of the modern Greeks have already

fallen, to liberate their people from the scourge of the Turks, and are

yet dead without having effected any visible consequence, without any

prospect of it; and hundreds of them also amongst us, preparing

themselves by education, suffer not their courage to sink, but are

immediately ready again to offer _their_ lives for the good of their

country, and would I not die for mine? And will not we, to whom the

salvation and the working out of the highest blessings are so near and

dear, will we do nothing to that end? And do I mistake your love, or

would I wantonly sport with it? Believe it not. What should arm me for

death, if not alone the love to you and the Fatherland, which impels me

thus to testify it to you.

"Mother, thou wilt say,--Why have I brought up a son to maturity, whom

I loved, and who loved me; for whom I have striven with a thousand

cares and continual anxiety; who through my prayers became inspired

with the love of goodness, and from whom I fondly hoped in the last

days of my weary pilgrimage to experience repose and filial love? Why

forsakes he me now? Dear mother! might not the fosterer of another also

thus lament, if he went forth for his Fatherland? If no other will do

that, where will the Fatherland be? But certainly thou complainest not

thus, but thinkest on these things too justly. Complain not, noble

woman! Once already have I received thy call, and if no one now would

step forward for the good cause, wouldst thou thyself send me forth to

the contest. Still two brothers, and two sisters, all true and noble,

have I before me--they remain to you--I follow my duty! The young ones

will step into my place, they will be true to their country--they also

are your children. In the world have we troubles, but in God we are

able to overcome them like Christ. Oh that we may enjoy his peace in

full measure! Forsaken on the solitary way which I tread alone, I have

no dependence but upon the Eternal Father: in him, however, grasp I

courage and strength to conquer the last terror, and to accomplish my

solemn deed. I commend you to his protection and comfort. May he lift

you to that joy which misfortunes are not able to disturb. Forget then

the loss in the enduring joy in Him, and regard not my tears so much as

the love which exists between us, and never can perish. Advance still

farther for your country, and conduct your little ones--to whom so

gladly would I have become the guiding friend--without delay, up into

the mighty mountains, and let them there, upon that sublime altar in

the midst of the Fatherland, dedicate themselves and swear, never to

rest nor to lay down the sword till the Brethren are united in freedom,

till all Germany as one people, and with one constitution for the whole

empire, great before God and mighty against their neighbours, is knit

into one complete whole!

"With joyful look turned toward Thee, Eternal God, stands my

Fatherland! Blessed be the great host of the German people ready armed

for the battle, who, recognising the high privilege to be allowed to

promote the cause of a pure humanity, thy image upon earth, stands

courageously resolved, and amongst those may I see them in whose love I

shall glory till my end.

"Salvation lies--highest and solely in the sword;

Press then the spear into the patriot heart,

And make a way for freedom!

"Karl Sand."

On the 19th of March, as already stated, he suddenly quitted Jena

without taking any leave of the people of the house. His travelling

dress consisted of a black German coat, with red cloth waistcoat, black

cloth trousers, laced boots, and a black velvet cap with a front. Over

his dress he wore on the way, for the most part, a blue carter's frock.

Amongst other things was found in his pocket, Koerner's "Lyre and

Sword," in which many lines were under-drawn with single, and others

with double scores; as for instance in the poem "Through,"--

What wins this long delaying?

The strong with fearless tread--

The act alone, onstaying,

Crushes the serpent's head.

And his favourite quotation from the poem "Call to Arms," "Salvation

lies," etc. as given above. So prepared, Sand left the university city

of Jena. His journey towards Mannheim was by no means hurried, but

extended itself to fourteen days. He had read in the papers that

Kotzebue would not set out for Russia till the spring, and the anxiety

respecting the consequences of the deed produced procrastination, and

occasioned him again an unceasing self-struggle. From Erfurt he

travelled to Frankfort with two merchants, and when they came to

Eisenach he persuaded his two companions to take their dinner on the

Wartburg. On this occasion he is said to have asserted--"Here have

sacred words been spoken, and from this place will yet go forth much

good." He also wrote there in in the Stamm-book for the students, these

words:--"What wilt the old nightcaps (humdrums, dreamy but inactive

people) do for you? Depend upon yourselves, and build up to God an

altar in your own hearts."--Then his favourite quotation from Koerner.

From Frankfort he went on to Darmstadt; where, as in the places already

mentioned, he lodged with his kind friends. In Darmstadt he remained

some days. He states that he had not been quite well, and had given

himself up to his reflections. One of his friends accompanied him a

part of the way thence, and at Sand's request, cut off his long hair,

which attracted attention on the road. He arrived at Lorsch, and

intended to have gone from there to Wurms; but his reluctance to his

enterprise became so great, that he determined on the following day to

advance at once upon the danger. He now read once more the Gospel of

St. John, which he carried with him in separate sheets, and Koerner's

poem "Through."

On the 23d of March he arrived in Mannheim, at half-past nine in the

morning, and went to the Vineyard hotel. There he breakfasted without

the host's perceiving any agitation of mind in him, and about eleven

o'clock was conducted by a waiter of the inn to the house of Kotzebue.

He then went back, on pretence of tying a handkerchief round his neck,

as he found it too cold with open breast. Again arrived at Kotzebue's

residence, he caused the waiter to retire, and announced himself

through the maid who opened the door, as a gentleman from Mietau.

Kotzebue, however, was not at home, and he was requested to call again

at five in the evening. He therefore took a walk to the Rhine, and

inquired where lay the wood of Neckerau, and its distance, and at one

o'clock returned to the inn. He conducted himself during dinner with

great equanimity, ate moderately, and drank a choppin[7] of wine. His

companions at table were two clergymen from the Upper Rhine country,

with whom he conversed partly on topics of general history, and partly

on the Reformation and Luther. He stayed with the company till towards

five o'clock, and then said that he must yet pay a visit to Kotzebue.

This time he met his victim. He announced himself, and was shown into a

room on the right hand of which lay Kotzebue's study, separated only

from it by a small cabinet, while the nursery and the sitting-room of

the family lay on its left side. On the proceedings in this room Sand

himself observed,--"The servant spent some minutes in going about in

the room or speaking; he then called me in, but still continued

standing in the doorway, and spoke in a low voice towards the interior

of the room. I was finally admitted, and Kotzebue stepped into the room

from the door on the left hand. I saw him appear at the half-open door,

and then enter as the door was quite open. I went about six steps

forward into the room and greeted him. He stepped somewhat nearer to

the door, and I then turned myself towards him on the side of the

entrance.[8] The most fearful thing to me was that I must dissemble. I

said that I had a desire to call on him as I travelled through the

place, and, after some pro and con, I added,--'I pride myself'--which

Kotzebue probably interpreted otherwise than as I meant,--then drew I

the dagger, and continued--'not in thee! Here, thou traitor to the

Fatherland!' and with the last word I struck him down.

"I named myself Henry from Mietau, since I believed that Kotzebue would

not admit me if I announced myself a native German. It was much more

probable under the name of a Courlander; and Kotzebue actually

said--'You are from Mietau?'

"How many blows I gave him I cannot say: as little, which was the

first. It was quickly done. I drew the dagger out of the left sleeve,

where I had secured it in a sheath, and gave him several stabs in the

left side. Kotzebue spoke not a word during the attack, only uttered a

cry of alarm, the instant that he saw me rush upon him with uplifted

arm. He stretched out his hands, and fell immediately at the entrance

of the room on the left hand, about three steps from the same. How I

should have wounded him in the face I know not. Probably it may have

happened through his holding his hands and arms before him, and moving

them about. I held the dagger so that the edge was above the thumb and

the fist, and struck directly out, neither from above nor from below.

Kotzebue fell together in a sitting posture. I then looked him in the

face to see how it was with him. I wished to ascertain the effect of

the attack, and a second time looked him in the face. He continually

winked with his eyelids, so that one could now see the whites of his

eyes, and now nothing. I therefore concluded that he was not dead; but

I interfered no further with him, because I was persuaded that enough

had been done."

Sand having completed his act, turned towards the window in order to

regain his old standing place, but that turn produced a deciding

influence on his fate. "I saw," said he, "in turning round, a little

child, which during the deed had sprung into the room from the

left-hand door. Its cry produced in me such a mingled feeling that I

was instantly determined to recompense it for the injury I had done it

by stabbing myself with the small sword. The blow struck on the left

breast, and went several inches deep. I drew forth the steel, and the

effect was an instant gush of blood, which I perceived as I descended

the stairs became, with the pain, more perceptible."

The cry of anguish of the victim under the hands of his murderer,

brought in a few seconds thither the family and inmates of the house;

but the horrible spectacle must naturally so violently have affected

them, that they scarcely retained a clear remembrance of the first

moments which followed the discovery. According to Sand's own account,

as they bore Kotzebue into the next room, the wild outcry and deep

alarm sunk by degrees; the whole room as well as the open-standing door

was left vacant, and he had time to descend the steps and reach the

outer door. When, however, he came there, he found already many other

persons collected by the outcry, and must then have despaired of

his escape, and therefore sought to secure the publication of his

"Death-Blow." His original intention, that of sticking it up somewhere

with the small dagger, was prevented by his having let it fall during

the action, and he therefore took the paper from his pocket, and

delivered it to the servant, who was then rushing out of the house to

call the watch, saying, "There, take that!" Then cried Sand with a loud

voice, to the people who had run together,--"Live for ever, my German

Fatherland, and we amongst the German people, who strive to advance the

condition of a pure humanity!"

He then kneeled down, and said in a low voice,--"I thank Thee, God, for

thy victory;" prayed, placed with both hands the small sword against

his breast, and drove it directly and deliberately into it till it

stood fast; then withdrew his hands and fell forward on his right side.

The people who hurried to the spot, found him lying in his blood, drew

forth the dagger, and washed the wound with vinegar. In the mean time

the watch and the police had arrived, and the murderer under the usual

guard was carried on a handbarrow to the hospital.

Kotzebue died in the arms of his daughter. It was probably the first

blow, which, piercing the pericardium and the artery of the lungs,

caused his speedy death.

Sand, on the day following the murder was in a greatly excited state.

His features changed rapidly, his eyes now gloomy and wildly rolling,

now soft and swimming with tears. His wounds were cicatrized in about a

fortnight, but an internal extravasation of blood ensuing, made the

opening of the cavity of the chest necessary, which the then Professor

Chelius from Heidelberg performed. Sand submitted himself quietly to

the operation, and afterwards begged the surgeon to excuse him for some

exclamations of pain during the operation. His behaviour during his

whole imprisonment was praiseworthy. His frame of mind appeared calm

and quiet, and he seemed to wait his fate with resignation. Only twice,

in particular, was he seen to break out into passionate weeping; once,

as he was conveyed from the hospital to the House of Correction, and

the second time, as a letter from his parents was read to him, in which

they gave him their blessing; but he sought anxiously to hide these

tears, as evidences of weakness. He repented his attempt at self

murder, as a cowardly act, and followed the prescriptions of his

physician with regularity. He was thus soon so far restored that the

trial could take place.

This was entered into with all possible gentleness; and he experienced

generally throughout it a mild treatment. A visit which his mother and

brother offered to make him he declined, on the ground of sparing to

all parties the pain of such a parting.

The trial for the murder went on quickly at first, but afterwards

became more complicated, on account of the documents which were found

amongst Sand's papers, concerning the Burschenschaft and such matters.

These occasioned an especial commission to be named, which put itself

in communication with commissions afterwards named at Weimar,

Darmstadt, and Giessen, and subsequently with the Ministry of Police at

Berlin, so far as their inquiries might have an influence or throw any

light on Sand's act. From the report of these inquiries we have drawn

the preceding notices of his life, and it may yet be permitted us to

say a few words on the force of some actuating causes which could lead

so excellent a character, as Sand otherwise was, to such a deed.

Sand's early youth fell in a time when all Germany breathed hatred to

its oppressors. From this source he drew the most glowing antipathy to

the French, and enthusiasm for his native country. Traits of

fanaticism, and a certain touch of religious enthusiasm, all must have

remarked in him who have read the foregoing pages, and a degree of

vanity which drove him to distinguish himself from the common herd by

something peculiar. Thus he subscribed himself, as a genuine German,

instead of Karl Ludwig, "Kerl Chlodowig," in the ancient style, and

afterwards he used the signature, "German Brother of Fichtelberge."

Then he made himself conspicuous in Tuebingen by a very singular dress.

His desire, however, to serve his country remained ungratified, and he

returned from his campaign as so many others, casting his glance

forward, to see whether Germany, which had purchased its external peace

through so much bloodshed, possessed internal peace and deserved

happiness. At the same time, his proneness to mysticism was undeniable.

In his speculations upon religion, morals, constitutions of states and

laws, one finds many contradictions. Thus, he regarded the Divine laws

not so much positive commands as monitory precepts, by which man,

according to his conviction, can regulate his conduct. When he, whose

favourite reading was the Bible and the writings of Thomas a Kempis,

yet felt a certain disbelief in the revealed religion, it was truly a

great inconsistency to desire that an immediate revelation from above

should be made to himself. Thus, he says amongst other things:--"He

prayed to God daily for knowledge and enlightenment. If he, through

divine revelation, could learn that his act was wrong, he would repent

it every hour; but hitherto nothing of the kind has happened." "My own

conviction," said he, "is my law. I act right whenever I follow it. It

guides me better than divine or human precepts." According to these

principles he would only acknowledge laws except in so far as they

seemed reasonable to him. Above all things displeased him, the division

of Germany into separate states,--he would have one Germany and one

church; but when he demanded--not for himself alone, but for the whole

people--this freedom of thought and will, he was in contradiction to

himself again, since he would, to a certain degree, force this reform

upon all, in opposition to his conceived freedom; nay, held it as

allowable, to take out of the way, with the dagger, whoever placed

himself as an enemy in the path of this reform; yes, and called upon

the people also to do the same. And this he did, without sufficiently

understanding the laws and circumstances of his Fatherland, as appears

by his declaration. It is to be supposed that the spirit which formerly

actuated the Burschenschaft, had an influence upon the developement of

his ideas; but it is false, when it is asserted that the Burschenschaft

was privy to his deed, or approved it. Sand had misunderstood some

doctrines of Schelling's philosophy, and had fitted these

misconceptions into his system, as well as many others which he had

drawn from the lectures of his teachers, especially those of the

historian Luden. All his teachers praised his restless diligence,

without ascribing to him either particular talent or great strength of

judgment. He entangled himself in a system of sophistry which he

regarded as the firmest truth. When a man frequently pronounces any

thing to be true, he comes at last to believe it so, however contrary

it be to common sense. Thus Sand over-estimated the evil influence

which Kotzebue exercised through his writings, without making himself

sufficiently acquainted with these writings. Thus he imagined that the

governments were not strong enough to repress this nuisance; and that

the writers who contended against Kotzebue were powerless against this,

literary tyrant. He therefore believed himself called to take the enemy

of truth out of the way. He communicated his resolution to no one, and

was so convinced of the meritorious nature of his action--which he,

moreover, justified by his maxim, the "end hallows the means"--that to

his last moment he never repented of it. For the rest, he endeavoured

with all his power, to shield others from the evil consequences that

might have reached them from his action, and therefore, when for their

advantage he stated many things that were not true, he is on that

account to be judged leniently. All these circumstances were well

weighed by his judges, as ground of excuse so far as they might

contribute to the mitigation of his punishment. Sand's counsel on the

trial was the Licentiate Ruettger. The final judgment of the court

condemned him to death with the sword. This judgment of the 5th of May

was confirmed by the Grand Duke on the 12th, and arrived at Mannheim on

the 17th of the same month.

At this latter period, the health of the culprit had so much improved

that, according to the official medical report, he was in a condition

to rise from his bed with help of his attendants, to continue some

hours up, and to take his meals sitting in his room.

On the morning of the 17th of May, at half-past ten o'clock, the

sentence of death was formally read to Sand, in the presence of two

officers of the court, whereupon, permission being allowed, he dictated

the following protocol:--"This hour, and the honourable judges with the

final decision, were welcome. He would fortify himself in the strength

of his God; since he had often and clearly made known his opinion, that

amongst all mortal sorrows, none could so much afflict him as to live

on without being able to serve the Fatherland, and the highest aims of

humanity. He died willingly, since he could no longer work in love for

the Idea--since he could no longer be free. So approached he the

portals of eternity, with a glad mind, and with the most thorough

internal conviction, which he had always entertained, that the true

good upon earth can only come forth from the strife of conflicting

passions, and that he who will work for the highest and divine, must be

a leader and a member of a party. He cherished the hope through his

death, to satisfy those whom he hated and who hated him; and again, to

content those with whom he agreed in opinion, and in whose love

consisted his earthly happiness. Death was welcome to him, since he yet

felt the strength in him necessary, by the help of God, to enable him

to die like a man."

The 20th of May was appointed for the execution, and till this period

the governor of the House of Correction was instructed to admit all

proper persons that the prisoner might desire to see, especially the

Protestant ministers, and to comply with all reasonable wishes of the

condemned.

Sand displayed the same fortitude as on the publication of the sentence

of death. He made the request that day, that it might be ordered that

no clergyman should attend him to the place of execution, and gave as

his reason, that the attendance of criminals to the place of doom, was

a degradation of the clerical order and of religion. That religion must

lie in the heart, and could not, especially amid such a tumult, proceed

from external things. As all the representatives, even of the clergy

present, could not alter his opinions on this point, it was conceded,

and his request allowed.

At five o'clock of the morning of the 20th, Sand was placed in a low

open chaise, within the court of the Bridewell, the door being still

closed. He was attended by the superintendent of the prison, at his own

request, that he might help to support him, particularly in mounting

the scaffold. Two other masters of the House of Correction were ordered

to keep near the carriage. Sand was clad in a dark-green great-coat,

linen trousers, and laced boots, without any covering on his head. The

carriage in which he sat, as well as the one following with the

officers of justice, was surrounded by the officials of the House of

Correction, and the squadron of cavalry ordered for the occasion. The

train proceeded to a meadow lying a little without the city gate, in

which the scaffold was erected, and which was guarded by a detachment

of infantry.

The government deemed these precautions necessary in order to frustrate

any attempt at liberation of the prisoner on the part of the students.

In fact, it is yet often related, that a great number of the Burschen

rode, in the early morning, from Heidelberg, well provided with swords

and fire-arms, with the intent to snatch Sand out of the hands of

justice; that the keeping secret the day fixed for the execution, had

made it impossible for them to obtain sufficiently early intelligence;

and that in consequence, though riding the whole way at the highest

speed, they arrived too late on the spot, where, cursing their evil

star, they discharged their pistols into the ground. The whole story,

however, is a fable, and it is certain, that by the wiser, and probably

the greater part of the Burschenschaft, even as little as by the rest

of the public, was Sand's murder-deed approved; and if at the moment he

was generally pitied, and it was wished that a better fate had awaited

him, yet none but a few political fanatics could pronounce the

punishment unjust.

Sand was lifted out of the carriage, and mounted the scaffold and

mounted the scaffold himself, supported by the arms of the two

Bridewell masters. Arrived upon it, he turned himself round towards the

crowd, then threw the handkerchief, which he held in his hand, forcibly

down, with rolling eyes; lifted his hand on high, as if he swore an

oath, turned his eyes towards heaven, and then caused himself to be led

to the chair of execution, where at his particular request, he remained

standing till the preparations of the execution were completed. The

sentence of death was thereupon read with a loud voice by the actuary,

and then the hands and body of the delinquent fast bound to the pillar.

As the executioner bound his hands, Sand said to him in a low voice,

"Don't bind me too fast, or it will hurt me." After his eyes were bound

the sentence was completed, his head being severed from his body at one

blow, and hung only by a part of the skin, which was immediately

divided by the sword.

The whole passed over with the greatest order, and with the deepest

silence of the spectators, except that at the moment of the fatal blow,

was heard exclamations of pity. Many students and other spectators

rushed to the scaffold, in order to dip their handkerchiefs in Sand's

blood, or to cut small pieces of wood from the scaffold as mementos.

Sand had addressed through the whole time nothing to the public. A

short time before his execution, he was heard alone to speak as to

himself,--"God give me in my death much gladness--it is completed--I

die in the mercy of my God!"

He died with much fortitude and presence of mind, at half-past five

o'clock. His corpse with the severed head was soon after laid in the

prepared coffin, and this was immediately nailed up. The military then

guarded the remains back to the House of Correction; and on the

following night at eleven o'clock they were buried in the cemetery of

the Lutheran church near the House of Correction.

Kotzebue's dwelling, and the chamber where the murder was committed,

are yet shown in Mannheim; and it is said that the spots of blood on

the wall have continually reappeared in spite of being many times

painted over.

The scaffold, according to custom, became the perquisite of the

executioner, who came from Heidelberg. The stranger may observe a small

garden-house which was built out of this material, as he goes towards

the Bierhaelter-hof, by the way of "The Three Troughs," as it is called.

To this house for some years, the Burschenschaft were accustomed to go

on the anniversary of Sand's execution, in procession, and there with

singing, and probably an oration, paid their respect to his memory.

Even those who did not approve of murder as a mere political reform,

yet were glad that Kotzebue was out of the way, and pitied and even

honoured Sand as a devoted and high-minded, though misguided martyr to

their cause.

If the act of Sand, perpetrated upon a man who neither in public nor in

private life enjoyed its respect, excited in the public mind so much

just displeasure, how much more must that have been the case on the

villanous attack upon the life of one whom so many social virtues

adorned. The attempt to murder Ibell, the President of the First

Chamber of Nassau, in the following year, by the fanatic Loening,

increased the consternation of the rulers and the credibility of the

charge that Germany, and especially its rising generation, was seized

with a revolutionary dizziness. It appeared clear that the spirit which

had formerly arisen from the salvation of the governments, had now

taken a decided tendency to their destruction; and instead therefore of

attempting to conciliate by liberal concessions, necessity commanded

towards it a system of vigorous repression. The congress of sovereigns

assembled at Aix-la-Chapelle in 1818, had already turned its attention

to the critical state of feeling in Germany. Whilst France had become

so quiet that the Congress ordered its evacuation by the army of

occupation, Germany became a new subject of anxiety. It was Sand's mad

murder-deed which first made this manifest, and produced this reaction

on the part of the governments. In August, 1819, many German ministers

and diplomatists met on this subject at Karlsbad. The excellent

Karlsbad resolutions, which were framed at this meeting, were on the

20th of September of the same year, published by the Confederation of

States, as the Confederation Resolutions. These, in order to prevent

the aberrations of the youth, ordained a strict oversight over both

teachers and learners in this respect, and that a government inspector

extraordinary should be appointed to every university to observe the

teachers, and to restrain the scholars within the bounds of discipline

and order.

The Karlsbad resolutions in reference to unions, and especially the

Burschenschaft, say:--"The long existing laws against both secret and

unauthorized unions in the universities, shall be maintained in their

greatest force and stringency, and particularly shall be the more

vigorously exercised towards the union instituted within these few

years, under the name of a universal Burschenschaft: as at the

foundation of this union lies the totally inadmissible presupposition

of a lasting association and correspondence between the different

universities. The government inspectors shall make it a duty to

exercise an especial watchfulness in regard to this point. The

governments are agreed upon this, that individuals who, after the

publication of these resolutions, shall be found to have remained

members of such secret or unauthorized unions, or shall have entered

into such, shall not be permitted to hold any public office." Thus, the

act of Sand, as is uniformly the case with wild and fanatical deeds of

violence, had the very contrary effect to that which he purposed, and

instead of serving and establishing the Burschenschaft, hastened its

public denouncement and suppression. In all the German states, the

freedom of the press was, moreover, abolished, so that in no German

state could a manuscript be submitted to the press without censorship.

Finally, also, a central commission of inquiry was established in

Maintz for the finding out of all demagogical schemes. The Prussian

government in particular went to work with pre-eminent energy and

vigour, and, by its persecution of many distinguished men, forfeited a

portion of that public respect which it had acquired through its

strenuous exertions for the liberation of Germany from the French, and

through other popular endeavours.

The repose of Germany during the political storms which in the

following years shook foreign countries, at length put an end to the

government alarms from demagogical agitations. The political

inquisitions and persecutions ceased by degrees; the punishment

suspended over the erring, became so much the milder as fewer

aberrations, in consequence of the established regulations, arose to

demand the care of the administrations. If therefore the impulse which

the German spirit had acquired in the Liberation War had caused it to

rush over its appropriate limits, the German nature yet returned

speedily to its inherent morality and propriety; and by its unshakable

loyalty to its hereditary princes, and relations, verified that old

praise,--that in Germany good morals have more power than elsewhere

good laws.

* * *

At the breaking up of the Burschenschaft at Jena, the 26th of November,

1819, the following song was sung; which we therefore give as one of

the most celebrated.

WE BUILDED OURSELVES.

We builded ourselves a house,

Stately and fair,

And there in God confided,

Spite tempest, storm, and care.

We lived there so trustful,

So friendly, so free,

'Twas hateful to the wicked

Such honest men to see!

They wronged us, they charged us

With treason and shame,

They strove our fair young Freedom

To curse and to defame.

What God laid upon us

Was misunderstood;

Our unity excited

Mistrust e'en in the good.

They brand it as sinful--

They cheat themselves sore--

The form it may be broken;

The love lives evermore.

The form has been broken,

The ruins lie low;

Yet what they have discovered

Is merely smoke and show.

Our riband is severed,

Of black, red, and gold,

Yet God has it permitted;

Who can his will unfold!

Then let the house perish!

What matters its fall?

The soul lives yet within us,

And God's the strength of all!

CHAPTER VI.

CEREMONIAL INTRODUCTIONS TO UNIVERSITY AND BURSCHEN LIFE.

Great need hath man of brother man

To reach his noblest aim;

He moves but in the general plan.

Fly then the wolf-bewasted strand,

And knit life's strong and social band.

_Schiller_.

The youth of Germany has awoke out of the dreams of Burschenschaft

freedom; and the sounding rush of steam-engines will probably not

permit them easily to fall again into this giddy trance. The bond of an

universal Burschenschaft no longer embraces the whole body of German

students, but the professors of every political as well as religious

creed move amongst each other in manifold circles. Like _ignes fatui_

flicker here and there yet, Burschenschaft ideas, but their flame has

seldom strength to burn, and soon expires again for want of fuel,

which, in fact, is diligently withdrawn: still has its flame, ever and

anon, in recent times, hoisted on the mountain tops, streamed up a

lightening fire-pillar of Freedom; but the rulers of Germany have

speedily smothered it, anxiously watching lest the political fabric

raised with so much toil, should become, with all its stockwork and

timbers, a prey to the devouring element. They have also taken care

that the youth shall not, forgetting his original duty, fall into this

labyrinth. During his period of study, only too often is he reminded by

the everpresent sense of the government examination, that he is a

citizen of a German state. Is it to be feared, that we have fallen into

the opposite extreme; that the zeal for the political and literary

freedom of Germans is extinguished; and that a stupid and creeping

slavery has taken its place? No, thank God, we are not yet come so far

as that. A striking testimony of this, is the sentiment which just

recently has made itself felt as the common spirit of Germany against

France, glowing with the enthusiasm of former years, and to which that

new Rhine song of Bekker--"They shall not have it!"--owes its origin.

So far as regards academical freedom, it is not to be denied that in

some states an overstrained severity of government examinations of

students begins to display a mischievous influence.[9] The young man

having this image of terror perpetually before his eyes, prosecutes his

studies in a manufacturing style, which crushes every freer, fresher

aspiration after human improvement. Yet one comes back to one's self by

this means, from that abortive condition of a false and overdriven

anxiety for the common good; and, on the other hand, the governments

were wise enough to perceive, that the freedom of the universities

could not be too much circumscribed without damage to the pursuit of

knowledge itself; for this freedom is universally recognised as the

ground on which an active pursuit of science most flourishes.

Experience has sufficiently proved this: those universities which

possess that freedom in the most perfect degree, having always stood

the highest in academical reputation. All mal-practices have been

properly put down; many things have been necessarily held to be illegal

because of their connexion with other things, and which yet have been

tolerated, and thus in this middle way have the best results been

arrived at. Strip the universities of all their privileges, and they

will fall, together with the schools, to the ground, and no longer

furnish so fine a bridge to the service of the state. Especially

necessary to their free condition appears to be the possession of their

own court of judicature, which has the peculiarity of leaving a wide

scope of discretion to the judges; since it might be very unjust to

punish a student, were it ever so slightly, who enjoys so much more

freedom than a citizen, precisely according to the laws of the schools,

as a citizen who is so little permitted to step over the laws is

punished by the laws which relate to him. Germany may be proud of the

constitution of its High Schools, and must feel grateful to the

governments for this protection of academical freedom, as it is bound

to be for its political constitutions, through which a beneficent and

honourable freedom is secured.

Much complaint has in former years been made, that the young people who

were just come from the schools, hurried on by Chore life and their

companions, become so engulfed in a whirlpool of dissipation, that

during the first half-year, or even the whole year, they never

perfectly recover themselves from this course of wild pleasure. This

destructive and so much dreaded course, and a certain constraining

influence supposed to proceed from the unions, and which uniting itself

with the fascination of _Renommirend_, or playing off, determined _Die

Neulinge_, newlings or freshmen, to enter into such unions, were made

grounds for putting down such unions all over Germany; as if Chores

were necessary to such a time-killing career of dissipation. Others

have insisted that the newlings must be compelled, by stronger

regulations and a certain school restraint, to a more diligent

attendance of the lectures and of their private studies.

Apart from the question whether one may and can compel a young man of

that age to unceasing application, it may be further asked, whether,

after all, this half-year spent in the free enjoyment of life must be

an actual loss, and to be reckoned an absolute deduction from the

amount of study? By no means. Truly, if study consisted in learning a

mass of facts by rote, then might we reasonably reckon literary and

scientific acquisitions by days. But let any one reflect how a youth

comes from school. There he had a daily task, which he completed as a

more or less industrious day-labourer does his. He had also favourite

occupations and favourite studies besides, but entirely apart, which he

pursued as pleasant recreations, which had nothing in common with the

tedious school labours. Not that there are no exceptions to the rule,

but thus it is commonly. The time now approaches that he must undergo a

rigorous _Abiturienten-examen_, or final examination, before the doors

of the High School will open to admit him; an examination which he puts

out all his strength during the last half-year to pass, as he sees with

transport the university years presenting themselves before him.

Suddenly he becomes a wavering skiff, abandoned by its experienced

pilot, to drive forth into the midst of the agitated sea of university

life. His whole existence must from this time forward tend to one

ultimate object, of which he is not himself yet clearly conscious; even

his recreations and pleasures shall only serve every day to accomplish

him, or to give him new strength for toil. His intellectual labours

shall henceforth bear the stamp of knowledge; but the transition is so

sudden, the space in which he has to move is so vast compared with the

narrow bounds which have hitherto circumscribed him! His sight must

sharpen itself, that rapidly making himself master of the manifold

objects that surround him, he may reduce them to one regular scale, and

so magically diminish them as to inclose them in his own bosom. And to

this labour, which appears to him gigantic, he comes exhausted by the

exertions of the time just past, wearied out with all the old school

business. He exerts himself to comprehend that world of novelties, but

sinks finally overwhelmed by their oppressive greatness, and probably

exclaims with the scholar in Faust,--

All is confused, a stunning pain,

As whirled a mill-wheel in my brain.

Despairing of science, he throws himself into the arms of pleasure. He

drinks with full draught from the cup of joy, and finds himself with

exultation again conscious of his youthful strength. Full of proud and

lofty feeling, he now rushes forward in the new and open path, often

bursting through all bounds. This is called the lost time. But it is

not lost. If the man is not to be overwhelmed by the excess of external

influence, if he is to be borne through all without loss of his

independence, he requires in the mean time such a period of rest; in

which, from an undisturbed point of view, he can look back into the

past; can there weigh what he has so far accomplished; can look

forward, and acquire a clear consciousness of his future purposes, and

can gather strength for the necessary enterprise. Thus, in the

transition from the school to the university, this introductory

laziness is a necessary crisis for the majority, in order to shake off

the old school dust, and to awake to a new existence. That very

dissipation must throw the youth back upon knowledge. He has now

learnt, out of the multitude of things, to choose and appropriate

those which befit himself, his character, and designs; he has

learnt to maintain his independence in the midst of the in-streaming

outer-world; and, finally, by association with so many companions who,

though equally with himself gay of heart and enjoying life, are still

happily prosecuting the acquisition of knowledge, he has arrived at

higher views of life, and of individual study. He is now first ripe for

the university.

We have in other places spoken of the advantage which a young man

derives from associate life with so many others. He who desires to rule

or to exercise an influence over men, must first learn to live amongst

many. He who studies a science will not perpetually confine himself to

one work, though it be that of a most celebrated master, but will

compare as many as possible, that amongst all their theories he may

select that which most meets his approbation, or may create a new one

for himself. Of the numbers, moreover, who find themselves at a High

School, if some lose sight of their true object, and sink in the slough

of sensuality, yet the far greater portion pursue the path of knowledge

with zeal, and push forward on the direct course, though they may

occasionally diverge into the smiling and blooming fields that lie

right and left, to gather odorous nosegays to bear with them on their

earnest track. Every one of these wanderers has his individual theory

of life, of morals, of religion, and of every department of science and

literature; and it betrays a self-punishing conceit, when an individual

regards his own views as so exalted that they need no comparison with

those of others, and when he can learn nothing from this intercourse.

Youth seizes upon every thing so freshly and with such force, and

endeavours to defend it against the encroachments of strangers. Shall a

young man only educate himself under the instructions of experienced

teachers? Certainly not. He must live amongst those who will hereafter

be his fellow-labourers in life. But as the age exerts an undeniable

influence on the greatest men that it produces, and even, when in other

respects they shoot forth far beyond their time, binds them fast to the

time with the strong bonds of prospects and prejudices; so also place

operates materially on men through the influences which are bound upon

the place.

The ton which predominates in a High School leaves not its scholars

untouched, or that ton could not otherwise perpetuate and firmly

maintain itself there. But this ton is the product of many

contingencies, and pervades every thing which comes in contact with it.

We noticed the ton which distinguishes the university of Heidelberg

when speaking of its advantages. This has always been the same; and

those of Jena and Leipsic have been described, according to their

individuality, at an earlier period by Zachariae. In his comic-heroic

poem, as Goethe himself has testified, every man will read with

pleasure how his Renommist was conquered by the love of the gallant

city of Leipsic:--

My song the hero sings, whom courage, sword and fighting

Made terrible in Jena, in Leipsic quite exciting;

Who oft whole hosts assaulted when his wrath was hot,

As hero out of Jena went, but in Leipsic conquered not.

We have also a drawing of four universities of Germany, of about the

year 1730, which was intended to indicate their peculiar

characteristics at that period. In this drawing one sees first a

student of Leipsic, a young gentleman very delicately and smartly

dressed, who is turning as towards a maiden, and saying

daintily,--"Dulcimene, thou hast made me quite in love with thee." Near

him stands one from Halle--and let the reader call to mind that August

Hermann Franken's[10] death had occurred about three years before that

time--he is dressed in black; he speaks with depressed heart, and

glancing at the former students, sighs forth, "Him will God chastise;"

which at that period truly, here and there, many a so-called

Waisenhausler--Orphan-Houser--out of an extravagant and fiery zeal, and

on the principle of a false devotion, had continually in their mouths.

To him succeeds a gay student of Jena in uniform, with huge cocked hat,

and very imposing mustachios, high jack boots with pounded spurs. He

grasps his duelling sword fiercely, and exclaims wrathfully, "The

thunder shall blast him that dares an insult." At last, and completing

the group, stands a Wirtemberger, with a full cup of the winking kukkuk

(cuckoo)--that is Wirtemberg beer--with winking eyes singing, and

dancing on one leg--ex pleno poculo.

We have already stated in what manner a newling is received as an

academic burger, or is matriculated. This matriculation in the early

and ruder times was preceded by a very peculiar ceremony, which was

called the deposition. This deposition during the first half of the

seventeenth century extended over the majority of the German

universities, Catholic as well as Protestant. From the description

which Arnold has given in the Appendix to the History of the High

School of Koenigsberg, extracted from the dissertation "de Ritu

Depositionis" of M. Sehme, we learn the following particulars. In the

university where the deposition was customary, the newly-arrived

student, the so-called "Branen," or Bacchant, announced himself to the

dean of the philosophical faculty, and prayed that he might, through

the deposition, be received amongst the number of the students. When

the Branen or Bacchants amounted to a certain number, the dean

appointed a day in which to celebrate the deposition, and summoned

besides the Branen, the depositor with his instruments, and an

amanuensis. They appeared on the appointed day before the dean. The

depositor in the first place put on a harlequin dress, caused the

Branen to attire themselves in the same style, and put on them other

ludicrous articles of costume, especially hats or caps with horns, and

distributed amongst them the instruments with which the deposition

should be executed; coarse wooden combs, shears, augers, axes,

hatchets, planes, saws, razors, looking-glasses, stools, and so forth.

When now the Branen were properly equipped, the depositor marshalled

them in rank and file, placed himself at their head, and conducted them

to the hall where the deposition should be performed, and there

addressed a speech to the dean and the spectators, who consisted of

students. The depositor commenced the deposition by striking the Branen

with a bag filled with sand or bran, and compelling them to scamper

about with all manner of laughable gestures and duckings in order to

escape the strokes of the sand-bag. He then propounded to them certain

questions or riddles, and they who did not answer them quickly and

well, received so many strokes with the sandbag, that tears often

started from their eyes. When this trial by question and riddle was

finished, then must the Branen give up the instruments which they had

hitherto held in their hands, and lie down on the ground in such a

manner that their heads nearly touched each other. The depositor then

planed their shoulders as they thus lay, filed their nails, pretended

to bore through and saw off their feet, hewed every limb of their

bodies into shape, cleaned their ears, knocked off their goats horns,

and tore out of their mouth with a pair of great tongs, the satyr's

teeth stuck in for the purpose. After the Bacchants were thus properly

hewn, planed, unhorned, and unfanged, they were caused to seat

themselves each on a stool with only one leg. The depositor put on them

a dirty napkin, soaped them with brickdust, or with shoe-blacking, and

shaved them so sharply with a wooden razor, that the tears often

started from their eyes. The combing with the wooden combs was equally

rugged, with which in some places the depositor commenced, and, on the

contrary, in others ended. Their hair, after the combing, was sprinkled

with shavings. After all these operations the depositor drove them out

of the hall where these scenes had taken place with his sand-bag, took

off his grotesque attire, put on his proper costume, and commanded the

Branen to do the same. This being done the depositor reconducted them

to the hall which they had just quitted, commended the young people in

a short Latin speech to the dean, and prayed in their name for a

certificate of the deposition. The dean answered in a Latin speech,

declared the ground and intention of the custom of the deposition, and

added all kinds of admonitions. Finally, the dean gave to each of them

as a symbol of wisdom a few grains of salt to taste, scattered in sign

of joy some drops of wine over their heads, and handed to them the

certificate of the accomplished deposition.

From this rude custom, which here and there expired in the beginning of

the eighteenth century, is derived the circumstance that a new student,

still, before he can be matriculated, must take out his certificate of

deposition. In Altorf, the deposition was enacted for the last time so

late as 1753, and was, in fact, to oblige a gentleman of high

consideration who brought his son to enter him of the university, and

wished to revive a lively remembrance of his own youth-time by seeing

the deposition of his son.

If, in past times, while manners were so rude, the teachers of the High

Schools could practise so barbarous a custom towards the freshmen, it

may well be supposed that the students did not conduct themselves

towards the Branen more gently. These had many hardships and

indignities to suffer at their hands; and, as was the case in many of

the schools in past times, must perform for them the lowest offices.

Lycurgus himself could not create for his laws a more implicit

obedience in his age, than the old Houses demanded from the new-comers,

who are now no longer denominated Branen, but Foxes. As already

observed, the name boot-fox was derived from this fact, that these

freshmen must black the boots for their more advanced comrades, the old

Houses of the Chores.

The freshman, or fox, is now bound to perform many little, but by no

means degrading or injurious services. He must conduct himself

discreetly, may not mix forwardly in the conversation of the old

Houses, and his purse is laid under frequent requisitions. Amongst the

students who belong to no union, this is not so much the case, and is

restricted principally to this, that the fox conducts himself not too

assumingly, and now and then _ponirt_ something, that is--to give this

slang phrase by an English one--_pods down_ something; that is to say,

he gives an excursion or entertainment to them, a _Kneiperei_, or

occasion of social fellowship and enjoyment. This he can the better do,

as the superior experience of the older students in all the regulations

of University life, and in particular in the best laying out of his

course of study, are of the greatest service to him. In the aristocracy

of the Chores, this subordination is, indeed, more despotic. There is

quickly heard,--"Silence, fox! speak not when old bemossed heads are

speaking!"

We have mentioned the general services which the fox has to perform,

but he has also to suffer at the hands of terrible old Houses. There

comes perhaps, a bemossed head from a distant university, in a

shockingly broken down condition, something like the student in Hauff's

story, who travelled with Satan. Already known by his hero deeds, the

moment that he arrives he is received with a jubilee of acclamation.

"Wuerger! thou faithful old House! cry the sons of the Muses, and rush

down the steps into his arms. The smokers forget to lay down their long

pipes, the billiard-players still hold their cues in their hands. They

form a body-guard singularly armed, around the arriver."--_Hauff's

Memoirs of Satan_.

And now, scarcely has the old House made it understood that his

trousers are not the best in the world, or that his boots are no longer

waterproof, than it would be taken very ill indeed of a fox should he

hesitate to supply his wants to the very best of his power. He must

feel himself particularly honoured if he gets back the borrowed

garments in a month or two, just in sufficient condition to be able to

make a present of them to his shoe-black.

For a long time, a terrible swordsman belonged to one of the

universities, whose mother resided in the place, and was what the

students term a _Frass philister_, or eating philistine, or who in

other words kept an eating-house for the students, as is very common in

the university cities. Her table could promise very little

satisfaction, even to the least delicate and artistical stomachs; in

fact, it required a strong dose of active exercise before dinner to

enable its frequenters to make an attack upon it, and another as active

after dinner to conquer the dyspeptic symptoms that rapidly followed

her viands. Yet this table was always crowded. The unhappy foxes had

much rather try their teeth on the culinary productions of the mother,

than fall under the pitiless sword of the son.

The same worthy was also accustomed to borrow ball-dresses, as he by no

means approved of swelling the profits of tailors; and, at the end of

the season, sent them back to their right owner in a condition fit only

at the best to be forwarded to the Jew.

In earlier times, the foxes were expected by the old houses to write

out their college notes; and hence arose the anecdote, that one of the

most terrible of the old houses, observing a blot, which the poor

copyist, in utter fear, had made upon the paper, asked grimly, pointing

to it, "Is that _Douche_, fox?" To _douchiren_, or _touchiren_, is

equivalent in meaning to giving such an offence as will require a

challenge. _Douche_ is Indian ink, and perhaps it would be in vain to

inquire how Indian ink came to be a synonyme for a challengeable

insult; the horrified and innocent youth, however, who understood this

meaning, answered with precipitation, "Pardon me, it is ink." That is,

not _douche_, or Indian ink, nor any thing meant for offence.

When a fox forgets his part, he is, in their language, immediately sent

to rest. Thus it happened that an old Bursche, who probably had two

dozen college half-years on his back, at a Kneip, fell into a dispute

with a conceited fox. The fox finally felt himself insulted by various

expressions, and in student-phrase, gave him the _Dummer junge_--in

literal meaning, _stupid youth_, but in their language a challenge. The

old Bursche coolly replied, "_Stupid_ I may be, but I am not _young_."

A general laugh arose at this repartee, and the fox was so much pleased

with it, that he instantly recalled the challenge.

Another anecdote connected with the same custom, is this. A fox

suffered himself to become the bearer of a challenge; an office which,

according to Chore laws, by no means belonged to him, but to the

Chore-Bursche. He stepped, full of self-complacency on account of his

important commission, but yet with some anxiety, into the lodging of

the bemossed head, and spoke. "Watzman sends you a _Dummer junge_--a

_stupid youth_." "Yes, I see him," coolly answered the challenged,

glancing contemptuously over his shoulder at him, and proceeding with

his writing at his desk without condescending to give to the

dumbfounded fox another look.

The student receives different names, according to the duration of his

abode at college. While he yet vegetated in the gymnasium he was a

_Frosch_--a frog. In the vacation which lay between the time of his

quitting the gymnasium and entering the university, he chrysalized

himself into a mule, and on entering the university, he becomes a

_Kameel_--Camel. This happy transition-state of a few weeks gone by, he

comes forth finally, on entering a Chore, a _Fox_, and runs joyfully

into the new Burschen life. During the first _semester_, or half-year,

he is a gold fox, which means, that he has _foxes_, or rich gold in

plenty yet; or he is a _Crass-fuchs_, or fat fox, meaning that he yet

swells or puffs himself up with gold. In the second half-year he

becomes a _Brand-fuchs_, or fox with a brand, after the foxes of

Samson. The fox year is then over, and they wash the eyes of the

new-baked _Young Bursche_, since during the fox-year he was held to be

blind, the fox not being endued with reason. From Young Bursche he

advances next to Old Bursche, and then to Bemossed Head, the highest

state of honour to which man can attain.

As the student has given to these different periods of the Burschen

life different _termini technici_, so he has generally created new

words for so many new circumstances; for the same cogent reasons that

new Latin terms must be created for many modern things; and the

creations of the Bursche stand very little in excellence behind those

of the new Latinisms. We could readily furnish a small lexicon of those

terms, which, however, we may very well spare the reader, as he can

easily select such as please him out of the number of regular student

expressions which will occur in these pages. We will here give a few

examples from the learned dissertation of Herr Schluck, with his

sagacious and humorous explanations.

_Burschen-Comment_--The rule of life which every honorary Bursch must

follow. To live according to the _Burschen-Comment_, means to be bound

by the laws of neither God nor man, and to consider oneself as better

than all other men.

_1st Proof_.--Students are the sons of the Muses. The Muses are

goddesses. Gods and goddesses are bound by no laws; therefore neither

are their sons.

_2d Proof_.--It belongs to unlimited power to decide with the sword.

But the students decide with the sword, therefore have they unlimited

power. Unlimited power is one of the highest prerogatives. Princes

possess only the highest prerogatives; therefore the students are

princes. Princes are exalted above the law, so also are the students.

This sentence is perhaps, strengthened by the old song:--

Burschen are kings,

And the proof is here:

They drink all their mothers'

Pennies in beer.

which, however, were to prove, and not easily to prove, on which

account I doubt not that every one will perceive the force of the

reasons I have assigned.

They consider themselves better and greater than all other men. At

least they are firmly persuaded of it. But a firm persuasion is the

same thing as conviction. He who is convinced, speaks the truth;

therefore the students are better and greater than all other men.

_To make a Randal_, or to open a Randal, means to kick up a row.

_Schisser_, from the French word _chasse_, one struck in flight, whence

_Schasser_, or, in corrupt speech, _Scisser_, means a fearful and

barefooted man. Hence also comes the technical phrase "to be in

_Verschiss_," which indicates the most extreme condition of contempt.

He who is in _Verschiss_, is shut out of all respectable society, and

is compelled to go amongst the _Knoten_, or lowest of the low.

_Fuchs_, or _Fox_.--This name is derived from the cunning and slyness

of foxes, since these look about as slily and cunningly, and regard

every one as their enemy and assailant, till they are rendered tame by

necessity and habit. The term is not injurious as applied to a

Freshman, but is an insult to an old Bursche.

_Mucker_, _Stubensitzer_, _Kopfhaenger_, _Kessel_, _Wurzel_,--_Saint_,

_Stay-at-Home_, _Head-hanger_, _Kettle_, _Root_.--These words are

nearly synonymous, and indicate a man who scarcely dares to breathe, or

to step over the door-sill; who from anxiety, or sanctimoniousness,

goes with his head hanging down, or sits as continually over his books

as a turkey-hen upon her eggs, or a kettle over the fire.

_Pflaster-treter_, _Pavement-treader_; _Quark_, _Curds_.--These

are names of the men who are natives of the city or its vicinity.

Pavement-treaders are those who were born on the ground and site of the

university, and therefore, from youth up, have trodden the very same

street-pavements. The pavement-treaders are also generally styled

_Patent-schissers_, since they must conduct themselves in all

propriety, being under the eyes of their parents; must go about in

gloves, and frocks, or untorn coats, and not smoke in the streets.

_Curds_ are so called because they come only a few miles from the city,

and to whom, therefore, their mothers, as their darlings, can send, if

they please, a dish of curds to their suppers.

_Kuemmeltuerk_.--Is a compound of _kuemmel_ and _tuerk_, and denotes the

class of Braggadocios and Boasters, who, at the first onset, rush upon

the enemy with furious outcry and riot, but at the smallest show of

real danger leap back like Kummel, cumin-seed, which a person attempts

to mix with melted lard. This name also has the same meaning as

_Quark_, or Curds.

_Couche_, _Re-couche_, _Contre-couche_.--These are French terms, with

which silence is commanded; but as they are terms commonly used to

hounds, they stand properly amongst the verbal injuries.

_Dummer Junge_, _Stupid Youth_.--Is the highest and most cutting

insult, since it implies a denial of sound manly understanding and

strength of capacity of him to whom it is applied.

_Schuppen oder Rennen_.--To scale, as you'd scale a fish, or to

run--meaning that poking with the elbows, when two meet and neither

will give way. This is a real injury.

Dissertatio de Quomodone seu von den Burschen Comment edita ab

renommista rerum Bursicosarum experientissimo eodemque intrepido

horibilique Martiali Schluck.

* * *

If the newly arrived students are no longer subjected by their teachers

to such uncouth customs, as this deposition was, yet they are by no

means spared certain ceremonies by their fellow-students, if they wish

to lay claim to, and arrive by degrees at, the titles of honour

connected with the different degrees of standing in points of seniority

in university life. Yet these are neither so barbarous as the

deposition, nor is a single student compelled to take part in them.

They consist of some merry formalities, to which those who choose

submit themselves, and which, though solemn age may smile at them, may

be readily excused in happy and careless youth. To these belong the

_Fox-ride_; the burning of the incipient Brand-Foxes; and the drumming

in of the young Burschen, who then and there ripen, without further

trouble, into old Burschen.

The celebration of the initiation of the Foxes, Brand-Foxes, and Young

Burschen, takes place on one and the same evening, at a Commers

appointed for the purpose. This Commers is always fixed for one of the

special Kneip evenings, and the Chore to whom the Kneip-room belongs

presides on the occasion. The candidates for initiation announce their

intentions to this Chore; and the other Chores also assemble with it on

the appointed day. Their place of meeting is one of the most spacious

rooms used for such purposes, which is embellished as on other

Commerses, and moreover also, graced with the insignia of the presiding

Chore.

After the customary singing of _Der Landesvater_, the Land's-father,

the assembled throng disperses itself in a circle on tables and chairs

in order to greet the expected train. At the long table, at which they

are accustomed to drink beer at their Kneips, sit others, especially

those of the presiding Chore, and at their head the president, the

drawn sword lying before him. All the spectators are well provided

with beer and pipes, that they may be able to enjoy the spectacle the

more agreeably. The doors of the hall now open, and an old Bursche,

seated in a chair with its back before him, rides in. He is in while

leathern breeches and jack boots, and wears also the hat of a

postilion. He is commonly clad in a polonaise, and at his left side

hangs the postilion's horn; in his right hand he carries his sword.

Sometimes, as a variety, he rides in high gala dress, in frock

and huge shirt-collar,[11] and seated on an ass, carrying also his

highly-polished and glittering sword in his hand. With solemn

assumption of grotesquely well-acted dignity, he thus leads up the

procession of assembled Foxes, who, also in leathern breeches and

jack-boots, ride on chairs in the same style, after the Old House. The

moment that the leader of the train appears, the whole assembly breaks

out singing:--

THE FOX RIDE.

The Chore-- What comes there from the height,

What comes there from the height,

What comes there from the leathern-a height,

Si sa! leathern-a height,

What comes there from the height!

The Leader-- There comes a postilion;[12]

There comes a postilion;

There comes a leathern-a postilion--

Si, sa! postilion--

There comes a postilion.

The Chore-- What brings the postilion?

What brings the postilion? etc. as above.

Leader-- He bringeth us a Fox; etc.

The Foxes Sing-- Good evening, gentlemen:

Good evening, gentlemen:

Good evening, noble gentlemen:

Good evening, gentlemen.

Chore-- What doth the Herr Papa?

What doth the Herr Papa?

What doth the leathern-a Herr Papa?

Si, sa, Herr Papa--

What doth the Herr Papa?

The Foxes-- He reads in Kikero;[13]

He reads in Kikero;

He reads in leathern-a Kikero--

Si, sa, Kikero--

He reads in Kikero.

Chore-- What doth the Frau Mamma?

What doth the Frau Mamma?

What doth the leathern-a Frau Mamma?--

Si, sa, Frau Mamma--

What doth the Frau Mamma?

The Foxes-- She mends the Father's hose; etc.

Chore-- What doth the Mamsell S[oe]our?

What doth the Mamsell S[oe]our?

What doth the leathern-a Mamsell S[oe]our?

Si, sa, Mamsell S[oe]our?

What doth the Mamsell S[oe]our?

The Foxes-- She cooks the Father's broth;

She cooks the Father's broth;

She cooks the Father's leathern-a broth;

Si, sa, leathern-a broth--

She cooks the Father's broth.

Chore-- What doth the Monsieur Frere?

What doth the Monsieur Frere?

What doth the leathern-a Monsieur Frere?

Si, sa, Monsieur Frere--

What doth the Monsieur Frere?

The Foxes-- He sits at home and oxt;[14]

He sits at home and oxt;

He sits at home and leathern-a oxt;

Si, sa, leathern-a oxt;

He sits at home and oxt.

Chore-- And smokes the Fox tobac? etc.

The Foxes-- A little, gentlemen;

A little, gentlemen;

A little, noble gentlemen--

A little, gentlemen.

The Chore-- And doth the Fox drink beer? etc.

The Foxes-- A little, gentlemen; etc. as above.

While this is singing, a pipe is handed to such of the Foxes as have

not come provided with this smoke-machine, that every one may give

proof of his ability. Glasses of beer are also assiduously handed to

the poor foxes, in order to accustom them to the noble juice of the

barley. The foxes in the end beginning to feel squeamish under the

accumulated powers of smoke and beer, sing forth in the same style the

sense of their uncomfortable feelings; on which the Chore, singing,

gives them good advice, and presently afterwards they acknowledge in

another stanza that they feel themselves better.

After the singing of all, or only some of the verses of this noble

song, according to the decision of the president, he gives the sign

that this ceremony is complete, and the new Foxes are perfectly

initiated.

Then instantly commences the initiation of the Brand-Foxes. These have

in the mean time made themselves fire-proof. They have put on great

wigs of tow, thoroughly saturated with water. The moment that they

appear in the hall, they are pursued by the assembled Burschen, who

stand with huge spills ready lighted in their hands. Here and there fly

the poor Foxes before their pursuers, who chase them like so many

fiends from below with the flaming spills, and without mercy strike

them over the head and face wherever it be possible. When the paper is

burnt out, the fury of the pursuers ceases also, and the Fat Foxes are

advanced to the rank of Brand-Foxes; a dignity which, in another

half-year, they will change for that of Young Burschen. Then follow the

ceremonies which they will at that time have to pass through, and which

they who are already Brand-Foxes now pass through. It is this. Each

Brand-Fox aspiring to _Pawk_, or drum, or fight himself into the rank

of Young Bursche, chooses an old Bursche, who while officiating on this

occasion is styled a Pawk-Bursche, and sitting down by his side, awaits

the proceeding of the Commers. The president determines what song shall

be sung; but he chooses one with numerous strophes. The following is

the one generally sung in Heidelberg:--

FREE IS THE BURSCH!

Stosst an![15] Heidelberg live thou! Hurrah hoch!

The Philistine to us most kindly leans;

He sees in the Bursche what freedom means.

Free is the Bursch!

Stosst an! Black--red--gold.[16] live ye! Hurrah, hoch!

He who guides the stars where on high they glow,

'Tis he who our banner bears below.

Free is the Bursch!

Stosst an! Fatherland live thou! Hurrah, hoch!

To our fathers' sacred customs be true,

Yet think on our successors too.

Free is the Bursch!

Stosst an! Country's prince lives he! Hurrah, hoch!

He hath promised to guard our ancient right!

Therefore for him will we live and fight.

Free is the Bursch!

Stosst an! Woman's love! live it! Hurrah, hoch!

Who honours not woman and woman's mind,

To friend and freedom is ill inclined.

Free is the Bursch!

Stosst an! Man's strength! live it! Hurrah, hoch!

He who can neither drink, love, nor sing,

How scorneth the Bursche so mean a thing!

Free is the Bursch!

Stosst an! Free speech! live it! Hurrah, hoch!

He who knows the truth yet dare it not speak,

Despised for ever remain the sneak.

Free is the Bursch!

Stosst an! Bravery, live it! Hurrah, hoch!

He who counts the cost ere the battle hour,

Will basely stoop to the hand of power.

Free is the Bursch!

Stosst an! Burschen-weal, live thou! Hurrah, hoch!

Till the world is consumed on the judgment-day,

Be true, ye Burschen, and sing for aye--

Free is the Bursch!

* * *

After the singing of every verse they _stossen an_, or meet glasses,

and whatever quantity of wine the _Pawk-Bursch_ drinks, be it a half or

a whole choppin, or even two choppin, the unhappy Brand-Fox must drink

as much. Wo to him that falls into the hands of a thorough toper, who

is inclined to run him hard. After the conclusion of these ceremonies

the _Commers_ is commonly held, so that many a young Bursche on

returning home is pretty much in the condition of the Austrian who had

been at a Bacchanal-party, and was seen, on its breaking up, by one of

his companions standing in the middle of the square in which his house

lay, with his house-door key in his hand, which he was swinging from

one side to another in an extraordinary manner. "What are you doing

there?" asked his friend. "Ah," said the man, "the houses are all

running round the square, like mad, and I'm waiting till the right one

comes. It has been here several times already, but somehow, it has

always escaped me."

CHAPTER VII.

THE DUEL.

Shall I for fame and freedom stand,

For Burschen-weal the sword lift free?

Quick blinks the steel in my right hand,

A friend will stand and second me.

_Crambambuli._

The duel is one of the few institutions of the Middle Ages which have

come down to our times. Club-law, shaken to its foundation by the

unceasing exertions of the German Emperors, must give way before a

pliant and cunningly calculating policy. We see only in the duel its

still surviving sparks, and this we see more commonly resorted to

amongst students, than amongst any other class, any other corporate

body; and, moreover, we find the German students making use of it to do

themselves justice more frequently than all others, and how can we

wonder at it? Where a great number of young men live a long time

together, there, ever and anon, will certainly disagreements arise.

This we see to be the case every where, and it must the oftener arise

amongst students, who, streaming from so many different places, with so

many different views of things, which early education has implanted in

each mind, many of them, moreover, placed high by birth, now find

themselves placed as it were on a level, that they may enter into the

necessary intercourse. "There is no love without strife," says an old

proverb, and accordingly this gathering together, this dividing and

coalescing into separate companies, which takes place more in the

German universities than in those of any other country, must inevitably

lead to more frequent disputes. Moreover, the free, developement of all

physical and intellectual powers, in which the German students

especially delight, must more easily occasion differences than is the

case amongst other classes of society; and therefore we find the duel

even more frequent amongst them than amongst the military class. But if

it enjoy a legal toleration in the military class, as being considered

to a certain degree necessary, we must admit that amongst students,

where it is punished by the laws, it wards off worse things, and as an

unavoidable evil could not be very easily or speedily annihilated.

Can we blame very severely rash and impetuous youth, which, in the

feeling of its strength fancies that it can fight out and achieve

any thing--which has not yet learnt to accommodate itself to the

notions of strangers and the opinions of others--if it betake itself to

other weapons than well-considered words and the discreet pen? And

regarded from this point of view, the duel appears an evil small in

comparison, and much to be preferred to the cudgel to which the

_Handwerksburschen_, the journeymen artisans, addict themselves; and

from which, we suppose, they have acquired the appellation of Knoten,

which is contemptuously given them--as people who, to settle their

quarrels, have recourse to a knotty stick--_Knotenstock_. It is very

rare that a student degrades himself by the use of the cudgel, and this

offence would be even more strongly punished by the laws, while it

would be visited by the students' own court of honour with the

_Verruf_, or Bann. Nor must we forget that in the interval between the

offence and the duel, time is afforded for a more quiet consideration

of the rashly-spoken words, and a possibility created for the

withdrawal of them. But the duel, has many times grown in such a

turbulent manner that it has required all the force of the laws to

repress the rage for combat, which often surpassed all conception. As

the tournay of the Middle Ages degenerated, so has this Middle Age

practice now lost much of its original signification; and far the

greater number of duels serve, not to terminate disputes between

individuals, but to afford an entertainment to the Chore, which is

rendered doubly attractive by the charm of danger. The origin of almost

every duel would prove the truth of what we have here said.

Little matters often conduct to great evils; and though we are disposed

to consider the duel, as ordinarily fought, no very great evil, yet the

causes out of which it springs are proportionably still less. Honour is

truly a thing which does not admit of much modification, or suffer much

tampering with; and what will not a strong phantasy see in any thing

with its microscopic vision? The delicate and exaggerating nature of

these qualities, reminds one in fact of the sportsman who happening to

put on a pair of spectacles of much greater magnifying power than

usual, suddenly fired off at a fly which passed before his eyes, taking

it for a partridge. Many a one vexes himself likewise when others are

pleased. He is not in good humour, and their satisfaction or equanimity

is an offence to him. A country fellow was angry with a traveller for

asking him whether the next village was far off, when its first houses

were only a few paces further on. He knew that; but he did not consider

that the stranger could not know it, and what was more, he had himself

been thinking neither of that village nor any other, but only that he

had just lost a lawsuit. In short, every one knows how it is accustomed

to happen in such affairs. A son of the Muses is in a bad humour, and

so any thing gives him occasion to call thee a _dummen jungen_; or he

sends to thee a _dummen jungen_, and the business is settled. The

conveyance of such a message is generally consigned to a student of

some standing, who knows how to conduct himself in such affairs.

We above all things counsel him who is no friend to the duel to banish

that little word "_dumm_," stupid, entirely out of his mouth; for if he

uses it to a student in the presence of another, the student, were he

his best friend, must challenge the user of the unlucky term to fight,

unless he recall the offensive expression. Every duel drops through,

where the challenger recalls his _dummen jungen_, and this he can do

with unblemished honour, if he has convinced himself that the other did

not insult him purposely. Yet no student is willing to do this

frequently, lest it might appear that he would cut a swell with

challenges, and yet has not really the courage to fight. Every duel

must be announced to the convention of seniors, which, if the affair

goes off in smoke, must see that the challenge is returned as null. In

earlier times the insulted party, that is, the person who heard the

above opprobrious name applied to him, sent immediately to the offender

a cartel-bearer, to inform him that after what had occurred, he must

fight him in this or that manner.

Come I athwart a proud _Pomadenhengst_,[17]

Who with full sails of stale and puffed-up pride

Draweth me near--I tread upon his toe.

Thereat he wonders;--I tread on it again;--

Then grows he wroth:--"Hark ye," he cries, "was that

Foot on purpose set there?"--"No, it was the heel,"

"The heel--So? Nay, that find I very strange."

Then add I--"Oh, do me this only favour--

Find _nothing_ strange--_thou art a_ Dummer Junge!"

At the present day people spare themselves this trouble, and also hold

the time not so exact that the duel, as formerly, must come off within

three days. As we have before observed, the weapons with which all

student duels are fought belong to the Chores. An insulted party now,

therefore, addresses himself to one of the Chores--that to which he

belongs, or to which he has attached himself as a friend, though not a

member--and prays the use of these weapons. His request is granted; if

he be not a member he pays a certain sum for their use; and at

the time which is agreeable to him, the Chore sends a Bursche to the

_Chore-Kneipe_, where it is expected the challenger will be found, to

announce to him the appointed day and hour of the duel. It is not

necessary to name the place, as that is almost always the same, at

Heidelberg being the well-known _Hirsch-gasse_, or, in plain English,

Stag-lane. The students term this "to fix one." If this hour is

convenient to the challenger, who has thus been fixed or determined,

the Chore the same evening sends a Fox to the _Pawk-doctor_, a surgeon

who regularly attends all the duels.

In what manner the duel shall be fought, the insulted party need not

yet make known. Up to this point we know nothing more than that it is

to be fought with swords. The usual weapon amongst the students is a

long two-edged sword, with a basket hilt, round which the colours of

the Chore are wound. It is long and flexible, in order that the blade

may throw itself over that of the opponent when he parries, as the duel

is generally fought by cutting and not by thrusting. This sword runs

not to a point, but is, as it were, at the end cut square off. In some

few universities they fight in the Paris fashion, that is, by lunging

with the rapier, as in Wuertzburg, Jena, and others. If the cause of

offence or injury is heavy, they resort to the crooked sabre, or to

pistols. In such cases, the person who gives the offence implying the

challenge, does not style the insulted party a _Dummen jungen_, but an

_Infamen_, an infamous fellow.

The crooked sabre is a dangerous weapon of great weight, resembling in

its curve and length the dragoon sabre, and occasions the deeper and

more dangerous wounds, in that the duellist having made his stroke

draws it back with full strength, and is thus in a condition to cut

through every thing which comes within the sweep of his curve. It

requires strength to use it well. Student with student only can make

use of the Schlaeger, or regular duelling sword. With those who are not

students he fights with the crooked sabre, or with pistols; with a

military man, with the straight sabre, which also is a dangerous

weapon.

By far the fewer number of duels spring out of actual insults or

injuries, or rather we should say, the student seldom fights because he

is insulted, but insults because he wishes to fight. Contests, on

account of actual and genuine insults, are generally amongst the

_Camels_, or those who do not belong to any Chore: seldom amongst the

Chore members. When these, however, become, on any occasion, very

hostile to each other, or have a particular desire to measure one

another's skill, this is always fought in the Single Round, of which

more anon. But that duels may not be wanting in which the Bursche may

set his bravery in its true light, a fine opportunity is afforded by

the so-called Allgemeinen, or general Kneips, which are held every

Friday. We shall farther on, come to these again.

When the Chores are here assembled, each _kneiping_ at its own table,

it requires but a trifling spark to put two Chores, who for some time

have already been in a state of electrical excitement, into thorough

fire and flame. A Bursche comes over from one table to another, listens

awhile quietly to what is here saying, but soon finds an opportunity to

quiz or ridicule this or that; to make himself merry over the weapons

of the Chore, or its last _Commers_. Like is compared with like: the

conversation grows continually warmer; more and more from the other

table keep coming over, and mix themselves in the strife. This becomes

momentarily hotter; finally, the senior himself comes over, and

challenges the other senior to a _Chore-hatze_. By this is understood a

regular duel between the whole of the two Chores, man with man. In a

similar manner a similar great contest springs out of the quarrel which

two individuals seek with each other out of _special malice_. When

these give the challenge at a general Kneip, then follows a general

challenging, the friends of both the parties following the example.

And challenges by scores are seen,

Because the wit is very keen.

The following persons are necessary to a duel, besides the two

duellists; two seconds, two witnesses, an umpire, and the surgeon. The

room in which the duels are fought at Heidelberg, is the well-known

room of an inn on the side of the Neckar opposite to the city, finely

located in the valley of the Hirsh-gasse. Thither see we the Sons of

the Muses often, betaking themselves in troops, to witness a contest

between two of their most famous swordsmen. When a duel is determined,

the room, or ball, as it is termed, must be secured for the appointed

day. The room is regularly hired for these purposes by the Convention

of the Chores, and its rent is defrayed out of the Chore-chest, as

before observed, where also it was remarked that the use of it and the

weapons is hired for particular occasions by the Camels. The Chore to

which the challenger belongs, or with which he has associated himself,

secures the hall by marking the Chore sign on the floor with chalk. By

this it acquires the right to occupy it for two duels, and must then,

if wanted, surrender it to another Chore.

"Solemnly," says Hauff, in the Memoirs of Satan, speaking of a duel,

"was each individual conducted into a chamber, his coat taken off, and

the Paukwicks, that is, the armour in which the duel is to be fought,

put on." Each duellist is, in fact, conducted into a chamber by his

witness and second, and clothed in the duel costume. Some trifling

changes take place in this from time to time, but it consists,

substantially, of the following pieces. A lesser and a greater cap,

according to circumstances hereafter noticed, and which can be made

tighter or looser, but which is generally worn loose, so that the blows

may take less effect. A tall cravat, which protects the throat, and

commonly reaches up to the nose, but this is put on in the hall

immediately before the fight commences. The binding of the arm is

particularly important, that it may afford it the greatest possible

protection, at the same time that it does not impede the action of the

wrist and elbow. For this purpose is used a fine leather glove, bound

round and secured to the wrist with a silken riband. This binding of

the glove must be very carefully performed, so as to defend the sinews

and arteries which abound here, as much as possible from injury. The

hand is protected by the basket-hilt of the sword. The duellist takes

the end of the riband which secures the glove in his hand until a

similar one has been passed round the elbow. The _stulp_, a thick and

well-quilted cover for the arm, made of silk, is then drawn on, fitted

down upon the glove, and being fastened there by the riband which also

secures the glove, and at the upper part of the arm by other ribands.

Another bandage, called the axillary knot, has frequently also been

brought under the shoulder to defend the axillary arteries from injury.

The last piece of the duel-costume consists of the paukhosen, or

duel-trousers. It is made of leather of uncommon thickness, and well

stuffed, and comes up so as to form a sort of cuirass, though without

iron, such as the soldiers of Columbus used to wear. High as it

reaches, it yet leaves a good part of the breast uncovered. It is laced

together behind by means of leathern thongs. A thicker glove is

fastened to the paukhosen behind for the left hand, or should the

duellist happen to be left-handed, for the right, to keep it out of the

way during the fight. Before the combatant was thus attired, he had not

only his coat, waistcoat, neckcloth and braces taken off, but his shirt

sleeve also slit up from the wrist to the shoulder, so as to give full

freedom to the action of the arm, on which account a duel-shirt is

frequently kept for the purpose, and put on before going to the place

of contest.

The whole of this duel-suit is calculated for a man of ordinary size,

and therefore little fellows often cut a very laughable figure in it.

They are more protected in it than larger persons, but at the same

time are more encumbered. The second clothes himself in similar

duel-trousers, and puts on a cap with a large front, or a hat, and the

large leather _stulp-glove_ covers his arm. The witness requires only a

leathern glove on one hand, to enable him, if the sword of the

combatant gets bent during the fight, to straighten it out again for

him.

When the two duellists are equipped, they are conducted into the hall,

and whilst the remaining particulars are adjusted, they walk up and

down, each supporting the arm which has to wield the sword on his

witness. The seconds now measure out the distance, and determine it by

two lines of chalk. Within these two lines the combatants must fight,

and behind which they are not allowed to retreat. If either of them

does this three times, he is dismissed from the contest with shame and

insult. The second of the person challenged has the right to choose the

umpire, the second of the challenger commands. Now first has the

challenger to declare in what manner he will fight; but till we have

said a few explanatory words, must the antagonists restrain their

impetuosity.

The different sorts of the duel progress, from the mildest to the most

severe, in this order:

1. Twelve rounds with the great cap.

(_a_) With a conclusive wound.

(_b_) Without a conclusive wound.

2. Twelve rounds with the small cap.

(_a_) With, etc. (_b_) Without, etc.

3. Twenty-four rounds with the great cap.

(_a_) With, etc. (_b_) Without, etc.

4. Twenty-four rounds with the small cap.

(_a_) With, etc. (_b_) Without, etc.

5. One round with (_a_) (_b_)

6. A round without cravat or bandage.

Before we proceed to the explanation of these terms, we may remark,

that the same rules apply to the crooked sabre, but if it be used, the

combatants generally fight what is called the single round, and that

duels with pistols are conducted in the different modes in which other

people fight those duels. The students commonly fire at twenty paces

distance; the exchange of shots takes place at the word of the

commanding second, and in such a manner that the antagonists can only

at the moment that the command reaches the final word "three!" catch

sight of each other. One exchange of shots is generally held

satisfactory.

By a round is understood the duration of a contest till one has planted

an unparried blow on his antagonist; it may be on his person or only on

his defensive paraphernalia: of such rounds twelve at least are made.

The small cap indicates the ordinary cap which the student wears; and

the large one, a cap with a very large front or shield. The theological

students fight in the large cap, since a scar in the face would amount

to a termination of their professional career, of which Hauff gives an

example, in the Memoirs of Satan, to which the reader may refer if his

curiosity so far prompts him.

The most customary duel is that with twenty-four rounds and the small

cap. Is it fought in the ordinary manner, that is, twenty-four rounds

with a conclusive wound? then the duel is ended when a blow falls which

is considered a conclusive one, namely, of two inches length, and

deep--according to student phrase--to cut through the two skins. The

duel of twenty-four rounds without conclusive wound proceeds thus. If a

considerable hit is made, the doctor must decide whether the duel can

proceed or not; in the latter case, the fight is continued, however, as

soon as the wounded party is sufficiently restored, which in the

twenty-four rounds with a conclusive stroke as observed, cannot happen.

In either kind of duel, however, it must terminate with the twenty-four

rounds, though neither has lost blood. In this case, both the

antagonists remain unconquered, and give their hands in reconciliation.

When a wound is given, which in its own nature or by the rules of the

duel proves decisive, the second of the wounded party puts an end to

the contest with the words "Remove him!" Distinguished swordsmen

generally fight the single round. In this case they fight for a quarter

of an hour. The umpire stands with his watch in his hand, marks the

pauses which are made for rest when the combatants become weary, and

counts them off from the actual time of fighting. So long a time as has

been consumed in resting, must the duel extend beyond the quarter. The

sixth and last mode consists in fighting without coat, waistcoat, and

cravat, and without the usual defensive costume. This, of course, is

the very worst species of all those which have been enumerated.

When all is ready for the duel, the two combatants confront each other.

The second stands at the left side of each, holding in his hand the

so-called _Secondir-Pruegel_, or second's cudgel, a weapon consisting of

a strong rapier fixed into a basket-handle. The witness stands at the

right side. His business is to put in order again the duel costume of

the combatant when it becomes deranged, and to support his arm when it

is become weary. The umpire stands at some little distance, between the

two combatants, and before him is a chair, on which he marks the end of

each round with a chalk line, forming the one side of a square, so that

at the end of twelve rounds his marks have completed this figure....

[Illustration: Three overlapping squares]

At the end of the twenty-four, this....

[Illustration: Two sets of three overlapping squares]

The swords have been ground sharp in preparation, on the grindstone in

the court below. The spectators have assembled themselves. These can

only be students; and even these, if the combatants require it,

evacuate the hall. In that case the cry is made "All must quit the

place."

"We planted ourselves in the ancient attitude of combat; the swords

were crossed; the seconds cried 'loose!' and the swords whirred in the

air."--_Hauff's Memoirs of Satan_.

The commanding second cries--"Upon the measure." Both combatants step

forward upon the measure; the seconds station themselves at their

posts; the witnesses step back. "Bind the sword!" cry the seconds; the

combatants put themselves in attitude, crossing their weapons. The

seconds become more earnestly observant. "Loose!" they cry, and the

swords flash in the air. On the style of fighting we shall say what

need be said, below, under the head of the Fencing-school. We often see

two practised swordsmen long circling round within the measure,

watching keenly every movement of each other's eye, every turn of each

other's hand, while the seconds follow all their movements with the

same short and quick steps. Suddenly an unguarded part is espied, and

stroke upon stroke falls with lightning speed. Quickly a blow is

planted; the seconds dart between, and with the word "Halt," strikes

the swords aside. The moment this word is given, the combatant must

cease to strike: if he do not this, he has made an after-stroke, and

where this is done three times, the offender must quit the measure with

shame and contempt.

The second must be an expert swordsman, or he would not only run great

danger himself, but be unable to give to his combatant the necessary

protection. This office, as already stated, falls to the second

_Chargirter_. He must exert all his skill to protect his combatant as

much as possible, without holding his second-cudgel so as to prevent

the blows of the antagonist reaching him. He must take heed that the

opponent does not present his sword so horizontally that his combatant

in rushing forward shall run upon its point. We have stated that it is

a disgrace to the duellist if, before the round is ended, he goes

backwards off the measure. This the student calls to "nip," or to "nip

out," and says "he is nipped." A laughable circumstance of this kind

once took place in Goettingen.

A little Jew had a quarrel with a renowned Schlaeger, or duellist, of

great stature, who had maltreated the little Hebrew. When they stood

upon the measure, the little fellow who had never before entered this

arena, awaited with wrathful impatience the word "loose," and made a

spring in the moment, whereby he gave the opponent a tremendous

_quarte_ in the face, crying, "There, thou'st got something!" The tall

fellow, who expected nothing so sudden, was horribly enraged at this

inroad upon the honour of his swordsmanship, and so much the more as

every one laughed heartily at the droll occurrence. Spite of all

outcries and commands to "halt," the student pursued the Jew with

terrible strokes, so that he, unable to maintain his ground, stepped

continually backwards till he at length actually took refuge behind the

stove. The seconds were seized with such a paroxysm of laughter at this

scene, that they were unable sooner to run to the aid of the little

Jew, and then first placed themselves as a wall between the stove and

the enraged swordsman.

When a round is ended, the seconds and the witnesses, who come to their

aid, often contend the point, whether an after-blow was made or not,

whether one or other of the seconds forwarded, that is, exceeded his

duty in protecting his protege to the prejudice of the opponent or not;

which last act, if often repeated, entitles the other second to demand

that he be dismissed from his post. But most frequently of all, the

dispute is, whether the blow took or not. All these points of dispute

have to be referred to the umpire, against whose decision there is no

appeal. When the single round is fought, the seconds do not stand at

the left side, but so that they make a cross with the duellers, as here

that frequent springing in between them is not necessary. So goes the

duel forward till terminated in one of the aforesaid ways. In the mean

time the doctor has, from the very commencement of the fight, had his

bandages in readiness, his needles threaded, and water set at hand,

prepared at a moment with a skilful hand to afford assistance to the

wounded.

The duel with swords is, as may be inferred from what we have

described, not very dangerous, and thus it proves itself, since from

the great number of duels which annually occur, so few serious

consequences follow. There are now students, who, during their career,

have fought from thirty to forty, and even sixty times, and yet have

come out of them all with a few slight wounds in the face. Yet tragical

consequences are by no means wanting. Noses and eyes are sometimes

lost, and even fatal terminations are now and then put to them.[18] The

wounded are nursed with great care by their companions; and those who

distinguish themselves with their weapons, speedily mount to the head

of their Chores. It is said that two brothers were such strong and

perfect swordsmen, that they disabled a whole Chore, with whom they

came into contention for further exercise of their weapons for the

whole half-year. The duels with the crooked sabre, are the most

frequently attended by unhappy results.

The duel is distinctly prohibited by the laws. The enactments of the

academical senate concerning it are as follows:--

1. If any one is slain in a duel, or is deadly wounded therein, or so

wounded that he finds himself in danger of his life; or that a lasting

disadvantage, through mutilation or internal injury, is occasioned him;

or if the duel has been with pistols, with the fleuret, or with the

crooked sabre; and even when the duel with pistols, with fleuret, or

with the crooked sabre, has not been completed, but only intended, the

affair can no longer be regarded as a mere violation of discipline, but

to be penalty treated, a trial constituted against the actors, and all

the aiders and abettors, before the university magistrate, and all the

minutes and evidence to be handed over for the decision of the civil

courts of justice.

2. Shall the duel with sword or crooked sabre have been followed by

none of the aforestated consequences, without making any further

distinction between the relative position of challenger and challenged,

both parties shall, under ordinary circumstances, suffer a punishment

of from four weeks incarceration to the enforcement of the _consilium

abeundi_. On account of more serious circumstances, in especial, on

account of a wilful seeking after contention, of gross insult, of

rejection to offers of reconciliation, neglect of the summons of a

surgeon, or of fighting the duel under unusually dangerous regulations,

shall, according to the circumstances of the case, punishment of a

higher kind be inflicted on one or both parties, as may appear right,

even to the extent of the sharp relegation.

In milder circumstances, and towards that party who shall have made

sufficient offers of reconciliation, or who has been injured or

insulted in a gross degree, the lighter penalty of imprisonment from

eight days to four weeks may be inflicted.

A duel is held to be perpetrated from the moment of its commencement.

3. Seconds and so-called umpires may pass without punishment, or

according to circumstances, may be imprisoned not exceeding eight days:

shall the duel, however, have been effectuated under unusually

dangerous circumstances, they shall be punished with greater severity,

even to the _consilium abeundi_. The witnesses, spectators,

cartel-bearers, or those in whose house the duel has been allowed to

take place, or who have contributed towards it by other means, shall be

imprisoned from eight to fourteen days.

4. Those who have been guilty of exciting others to fight a duel, shall

suffer the _consilium abeundi_, or in some aggravated cases the simple

or sharper relegation.

5. He who is aware of an appointed duel, shall make it immediately

known to the university magistrate whereupon those concerned in it will

be, without delay, confined to their houses, or, if circumstances

require it, be arrested.

6. After inquiry, reconcilement of the parties is to be attempted; but

if this cannot be effected, both parties must sign a declaration, with

which they must be satisfied. But in both cases must both parties give

their word of honour that they will fight no more during the remainder

of the term of their academical rights of citizenship, and sign the

protocol for that purpose presented by the magistrate of the

university. Whoever refuses to do this shall immediately receive the

_consilium abeundi_; and whoever afterwards breaks his word of honour

and again fights, shall be visited with the sharper relegation, also he

who fights with him.

7. Those students of medicine or surgery, who shall, at any time,

undertake the bandaging for a duel, shall, after the first bandaging

and performing of what was immediately necessary to the wounded,

instantly give information thereof to an authorized surgeon; and if

they fail to do this, they shall, according to the degree of danger of

the wounded, suffer a proportionate imprisonment; and if the case

warrant it, the _consilium abeundi_, or relegation.

8. The punishment for duels between students and persons of another

class, shall be regulated by the principles here laid down, unless

attended with contingencies of particular aggravation.

9. The beadles who have detected duels in the course of the year, and

he of them who through the discovery of appointed duels shall have

contributed the most to the prevention of the fighting of duels, shall

each, according to the evidences and degrees of zeal, receive a reward

of forty, sixty, or eighty gulden,[19] and the academical senate,

through the curator, shall determine the relative sum.

10. The weapons and other things necessary to a duel, which shall be

found upon the place chosen or appointed for a duel, shall be seized,

made useless, and so converted, as much as may be, to the benefit of

the university treasury.

* * *

The beadles strive with all diligence to entitle themselves to the

proffered reward; but, on the other hand, the students exert all their

ingenuity to defeat the vigilance of these Arguses. In their behalf

numerous persons are employed, who, through signs, give intelligence of

the approach of the beadles, or, as they are termed by the students,

Poodles. Amongst these, at Heidelberg, stands prominently forth the Red

Fisherman, distinguished for his Herculean strength, and an inventive

spirit not a whit inferior to that of Ulysses. That brown sunburnt

countenance, whose features announce a rude bravery--that red

hair--that solid build of limb--that mighty chest spread like the

breastwork of a battery, and which the wide out-lying shirt is too

proud to conceal, and the fantastic cap--the man is not a moment to be

mistaken. He belongs to those creatures of the students which are to be

found in every university city, and who, living by the students, are to

them indispensable. So the Red Fisherman renders the most important

services, both connected with the duels and otherwise. At night when

the Lumpen-bell[20] sounds, he makes the round of the _Kneips_, and if

he finds any of the sons of the Muses whose legs Bacchus has lamed, he

throws one over each shoulder, like two sacks, and hastens with them to

their lodgings. He is present at all Commerses and Comitates: like a

true hound he partakes of all the enjoyments of his lords, and grimly

defends them in their difficulties; as in the villages, where it often

happens at the holding of a Commers there, that through their exuberant

pranks they get into skirmishes with the peasants, who will assail them

in troops with tremendous cudgels, and are, when their blood is up, on

such occasions, merciless antagonists, beating, treading on, and even

stamping on the faces of those whom they have knocked down. The Red

Fisherman, in such emergencies, is another Ajax, and wresting their

weapons from them, lays prostrate hosts of Bauers before him with their

own cudgels. On all occasions he patiently bears the wanton whims and

insolent humours of his own lords in their barley-cornish hours. On the

other hand, the police treat him in trials and inquiries which come

before the magistrates with all possible lenity and forbearance, as by

his courage and skill in swimming he has already saved the lives of six

or eight persons.

When a duel is about to take place, the Red Fisherman is generally

posted on the Neckar-bridge, to give thence the first alarm signal. The

moment that he perceives the beadles hastening that way, he gives the

sign by a handkerchief, or in some other way, to a servant-girl, who is

stationed for that purpose below the Hirsch-gasse, and on receiving it,

hastens in and gives the alarm. The combatants are hastily stripped of

their duel dress, their own garments thrown on, the fighting apparatus

thrown into some place of concealment, and all fly out by windows and

doors, and plunge into the woods, where they return by a circuitous

route to the city. If the surprise is too sudden to allow the

_Pawkant_, or duellist, to divest himself of his inconvenient costume

he runs, in full battle-habit, to conceal himself as he is, in the

garret of the house, or in a neighbouring corn-field. The little

garden-house which stands just above, called by them Tusculum, has

afforded many a one shelter; indeed, at one time, two students

regularly hired it and lived in it, so that when the surprised

combatants ran in thither, they became only visiters, stepped in to see

their friends. The police, however, soon prohibited their abode there.

The beadle has little chance of approach by the open highway; but he

endeavours to cross the Neckar by a boat, at a distant spot, and so by

hidden footways over the hills, to come slily upon their rendezvous; or

he lounges as a Bauer or a sportsman through the neighbouring

vineyards; or he comes riding up as a gen-d'arme.

But come the beadle however he will,

The wit of the student's too much for him still.

He may think himself certain to pounce on his game,

But he's still more certain to fail in his aim.

One of the most common punishments of the duel is confinement in

the university prison; and a few words on the permitted fencing

usages may here precede a short account of that. There is one regular

fencing-master appointed in the university, who gives his instructions

at his own house. Every Chore has here its place of practice; that is,

a large room in the house of the fencing-master is hired by each Chore

at a fixed hour of the day, where they meet together and practise

fencing, the fencing-master often being present. Others who wish to

accomplish themselves in the art of fence, join themselves to these

Chore members, but it is forbidden to lunge, lest under the pretence of

fencing the duel may be concealed. Of the German mode of fencing there

is truly as little to say as if we should describe to any one how he

should waltz. The customary weapon, and whoever has wielded it knows

well the meaning of high and low, guard, quart, terz, high and low

quart, prim, second, and so forth. The German rapier fight is not so

ornamental as the French lunging with the fleuret. It requires greater

strength, and the movements are only in the wrist; for the rest, it may

be recommended to any one as a strengthening exercise. The rapier is

similar to the Schlaeger, but, of course, blunt; a thick leather stulp

covers the arm, and a mask the face. The German student, it is well

known, arrives at a great dexterity in this practice, as he

distinguishes himself in all bodily exercises of strength and

dexterity, and as the Burschenschaft members did in the more useful

gymnastic schools, where they often performed astonishing exploits. The

gymnastic schools, as the rendezvous of the Burschenschaft, are

unhappily cried down, and are thereby fallen completely into neglect.

It is an inspiriting sight to see able swordsmen contending with

powerful strokes in the fencing-school; and sometimes all seem mad

together, when a couple of the great dogs of the students having found

their way in, each rushes to assist his master with yells and merciless

bites. All in the room retreat to tables and chairs, and the wrath of

the hounds is then turned against each other. They take the place of

strife instead of their masters, who, in their individual ornature, in

all corners of the room stand guarding themselves with their swords.

The _Carcer_ is the prison of the students, and consists of three or

four rooms in the house of the Chief Beadle, immediately under the

roof. It is secured with iron grating, and contains as furniture only a

bed, a small table, and a wooden chair. These small chambers have

received different names from the students, as the Solitude, Bellevue,

Recreation, and the Hole. The last is the dark place into which the

nightly disturbers are thrust, that they may here, undisturbed and

undisturbing exercise their fancies till morning. They are under the

care of a beadle, who supplies the necessities of the prisoner. The

captive may not for the first few days quit his durance on any account.

Afterwards he may attend his college lectures, or he goes about during

the time that he ought to attend them, taking care to avoid meeting the

officers of police. He must also return to the prison at night. During

the days that he is in close confinement, he can entertain himself with

reading; he plays or drinks, smokes and chats with his acquaintance,

who are allowed to see him by an order from the Amtmann. His food he

procures from one of the regular eating-houses, by means of his

boot-fox. If all visits to him are prohibited, in accordance with the

severity of his sentence, and if he be not inclined to study, he lies

in bed and consoles himself with his pipe the greater part of the day,

which he finds far more agreeable than sitting in that hard and

uncomfortable chair. Thus we see, that this punishment is not

excessively cruel, though it has the property of promoting considerably

the transparency of the purse; since this agreeable lodging must be

paid for, and the services of the beadle during the day are nothing

near so responsive to love as to money, and for which, at all events,

he must pay a specified sum. In some universities, as in Giessen, the

incarceration is more rigorous. There, all visits and books are denied.

The prisoner is not allowed to leave the prison; and even the bedstead

is carried out in the morning, so that nothing is left to the poor

wretch the whole day but to pace his small apartment, or to sit on that

hard chair, and pour out his complaints to the four bare walls.

Certainly the stranger will not select a place where such barbarous

sentiments are retained, and refinement of mind has made so little

progress, for the scene of his university life, but will rather turn

his steps towards the more humane and polished _Ruperto-Carolo_[21] or

some similar university.

CHAPTER VIII.

CHARACTERS CONNECTING THEMSELVES WITH STUDENT LIFE.

The appearance of the Red Fisherman in our last chapter has brought

before our mind's eye some other of the creatures of the students, to

whom we cannot better devote a brief chapter than in the present place.

These are the _Binsen-Bube_, the _Hofrath Dieh_, and the _Frau

Gottliebin_. And we would have the renowned Red Fisherman to

understand, that we mean not in bringing these personages into

connexion with his name to bring his dignity into question, nor for a

moment to place in comparison with him the two former of these

individuals, over whose heads he looks down from the clouds of fame.

The _Binsen-Bube_, or as he is also called, the _Blumen-Bube_, that is,

the Rush-boy, or the Flower-boy, will figure in another part of the

volume, and therefore must first stand forth the Herr Hofrath Diehl, or

in pure English, the Privy Counsellor Diehl, an individual on whom many

foreigners must have stumbled in Heidelberg.

This individual has served for some thirty years to amuse the rackety

young men by his original nonsense; and we lament to be obliged to say

that the students of a former time were not wholly guiltless of

originating the condition in which he now finds himself. He is a

melancholy example of a student scathed in his career; and who has,

from one unfortunate hour, sunk continually deeper and deeper into the

depths of misery and insignificance. What part he played as a student

we are not able precisely to state; but this must be certain, that he

never could have been enlightened by the sun of reason as men on the

average are, and now it is with him an everlasting eclipse. According

to the opinions of some, he must unluckily have been walking under a

great umbrella when reason was rained down from heaven. He thus early

became a plaything in the hands of men who were base enough to abuse

his simplicity. He received a forged letter, containing the

intelligence that he was appointed a privy counsellor of the Hesse

Darmstadt court, and the scoundrels who deceived him advised him to use

some peculiar kind of pomatum, which should give to his head a look of

official dignity. The upshot of this infamous business was that he lost

nearly all his hair by this application, and was brought back from

Darmstadt, whither he had gone to take possession of his office, to the

university a crazed man. From the consequences of this lamentable

history he has never recovered. His mind, weak before, has since

remained hopelessly confused. He has continued to occupy a small

chamber, where he employs himself busily in scheming and maturing plans

for the improvement of the world; for the maintenance of the European

balance of power; for the better pursuit of philosophy, and for

bringing it into a better connexion and alliance with other branches of

education; and in the discovery of an elixir of longevity. The results

of his profound meditations are laid down in vast masses of

manuscripts, which, alas! like the Journey from Stolpe to Danzig,[22]

have never been able to find a publisher. Yet they are by no means

useless to their author, if they are unappreciated by the world. He

employs them as mattrasses and pillows for his bed; and he busies

himself with scattering great quantities of water out of his window in

order to dissipate those heavy vapours which have prevented the

booksellers from perceiving what would be so greatly to their

advantage. During the day, this singular man traverses all the streets,

and goes round to all the Beer-kneips. With short and measured steps he

walks about clad in an old coat which he owes to the kindness of some

student. Now it is a polonaise, now a velvet frock, and anon it is a

mackintosh. He wears, like the student, a little cap, from below which

hangs his scanty and white hair. His countenance has a singular

expression of mixed pride and humility, of friendliness and melancholy;

and in his right hand he carries a light stick, in such a manner as if

every moment he was about to raise it in the act of demonstrating some

of his cosmopolitan propositions. This moment he picks up from the

street some worthless fragment, and even a bit of wood for his fire;

the next instant he whistles his little dog, a faithful companion to

which he is most fondly attached; and now he is greeting this person

and the other, with the words "How goes it, my friend, to-day, with

thee?" for he stands on the _Smollis_ with every body, that is,

he puts himself on the familiar footing of thee and thou; to another,

"Good-day, my dear son."

In the Kneips he seeks to attract attention by an harangue, or by his

remarks on the affairs of the day. He then waits with quietness till

the landlord, in requital for the drawing together of hearers, sets

before him a small refreshment, or till a compassionate guest treats

him to a choppin of beer, or presents him with a few kreutzers.

Formerly he had a stall in the half-yearly fair, where he sold partly

pins made by himself, and partly other wares, as knives and scissors,

and such like, at double the price at which the man at the next stall,

who furnished him with them, did. That our readers may have some idea

of the character and quality of the worthy privy counsellor's

compositions, of which he says he has at least eighteen thousand sheets

by him, we give a specimen which was written expressly for us, and

which the reader may or may not, just as he is disposed, try his teeth

upon. We have, however, no doubt but that those sagacious and

penetrating people who have put in the mouth of Jean Paul Richter so

many things which he never thought of, will also do our Hofrath the

same most obliging kindness, and wish right heartily that he may have

the good fortune to find at least one such commentator.