After a short pause, Freisleben addressed himself to the telling of his story: and for that purpose drew forth a letter. After he had seen that the company were supplied with glee-wine, he said--
We have had enough of evil and evil deeds, and it may, therefore, be permitted me to relate something out of the life of a good man; namely, out of the life of my friend Stark, whom you have become acquainted with in his passing through here lately, face to face.
His father was the pastor of the village of Greenwiesel, and had, as is only too much the case with the country clergy, a very scanty income. The boy received his first instruction in the Folks'-school of the place, and afterwards from his father, who, being an industrious man, contrived to spare so much time from the duties of his office, as was necessary to the due progress of his son. Private teachers he could not afford, nor the expense of his maintenance in a neighbouring town, so that he might attend the Gymnasium there. This was only an advantage to Stark, as he could not easily have enjoyed an education which was at once so well grounded, and so free from all pedantry, as that which his father gave him. An old officer who had long spent his pension in the village, and was a friend of the pastor's, spared no pains to instruct him in the mathematics, which he loved above all things. But the scholar listened with still more delight to his instructor when he talked to him of the armies in which he had served, and of the battles in which he had been engaged against the French. The intercourse with the old officer, and the books which he put into his hands, contributed not a little to inflame the boy's enthusiasm for liberty and Fatherland. With avidity he devoured the German history of Kohlrousch, and was accustomed then to rush forth into the wood, in order that he might stretch himself under the German oak, and felt altogether as German should. Nowhere was he so delighted to be, as abroad amid God's free nature; and as the other boys of the village could not understand his internal feelings and impulses, he was thus daily accustomed to roam about alone, which occasioned him many a reproof from his father. If it was fine weather, he used to take out his Tacitus with him, his favourite author, or he recited with a loud voice a passage from Ossian, of which the old officer had given him a German translation. Nothing, however, gave him greater pleasure than to battle with the winds; and the more it thundered and lightened, the more drenchingly poured down the rain, the more exulting was his feeling of the strength of his youth. When wet through, and looking wild, he returned home, his mother would clasp her hands in wonder at his foolishness, as she termed it. Yet she loved him extremely, as he on his part, above all things, loved his parents and his sister, and did every thing to please them that he could discern would be acceptable to them.
The first bitter tears that he shed, and bitter ones indeed they were, was when his old friend and instructor, the old officer, died. But a still greater misfortune soon befell him and his family. At the time that young Stark should have entered one of the higher classes of the Gymnasium of a neighbouring town, the old pastor was seized with an apoplectic stroke, as he returned from preaching. His speedy death spared him the painful reflection, that he left a widow and two uneducated children helpless in the world. The family removed to the next town, and there hired a poor dwelling in a small side street. The young Stark, who attended the Gymnasium, felt, indeed, that he must consider himself as the head of the family, and must provide for it. He discharged his duty in the most exemplary manner. Besides that, he received his school instruction free, he also enjoyed a stipend which was awarded him in consequence of his having passed a brilliant examination. It was very small indeed, but Stark knew how to circumscribe his wants. He laboured zealously, in order to advance as rapidly as possible, while at the same time he devoted every leisure hour to instruct a considerable number of boys in the city, in their elementary learning. With the united proceeds of this stipend and these labours he maintained his family; and thus, when he had toiled through the day as learner and teacher, the evening found him by his study-lamp, where he sate fixed till late in the night. But he was cheerful and contented. His strongly-grounded constitution enabled him to support these exertions, and the glad consciousness of being able to stand independent, and to provide for the necessities of his mother, and of one dearly beloved sister, made sweet to him that monotonous life.
Another removal of the little family was necessary when the young man went to the High School. For the rest, his family continued to live after that removal as they had done before, and Stark pursued his studies with double diligence, in order yet better to maintain them. His teachers in the university took an interest in the brave youth, and amongst the students he found congenial friends, who, more favoured by fortune, took a pleasure in procuring him many enjoyments of life, without touching too closely on the delicacy of his feelings. They visited him gladly in his modest room, where, besides the most necessary articles of furniture, there was nothing to be found but books, and some maps which he made use of in his studies, and which hung on the whitewashed walls. Yet was no one happier than he when he shared the frugal meal in the evening with his family, or with a friend chatted over a glass of beer and a pipe. He went very simply, but yet very neatly dressed. His tall, strong figure; that earnest, somewhat pale countenance, to which the slightly aquiline nose, the friendly, thoughtful eye, and a background of black whiskers, gave interest and effect, produced on the beholder a highly favourable impression. Every one with pleasure heard him speak, for his voice was strong and well-toned, his speech fluent, and when he became zealous, carried you irresistibly along with it. But when he sung, he affected every one. His bass voice was, however, too powerful for a small room. It made every window vibrate, and was, indeed, a voice made to sing the songs of German freedom under the German oak.
Cruelly did fate startle him out of this monotonous yet quiet and happy life. A nervous fever which then raged, snatched away his mother; and his only sister, who had been her true nurse on her sick bed, soon followed her. Stark was strongly bowed down by these severe losses. So much the more did he attach himself to a maiden, whom he had now known for some years, and to whom he had now been for half a year affianced.
The father of Emily, his promised bride, lived near the city. Emily had a very attractive person, was always merry and good-humoured, and possessed many good qualities; but was in the highest degree giddy and fickle. My friend would never admit the last characteristic. He was blind enough only to see in the maiden, noble and beautiful qualities, which he worshipped. But he came to be bitterly convinced to the contrary. A wealthy merchant's son, who just then was commencing business for himself, announced himself as a lover of Emily to her father. The father, although pleased with the proposal, yet gave his daughter free choice, and she was heartless enough to prefer the characterless, pretty, and glib-tongued merchant, to the poor Stark, who, since his recent trials, truly had become more grave, and might possibly have wearied her with many melancholy retrospections of his lost mother and sister. Emily shrunk from writing herself to my friend, but informed him, apparently in an unfeeling manner, through a third person, that the connexion must be broken off; and assigned as reasons, besides some other unimportant things, that her father was favourable to the pretensions of the other lover, and had forbid her to hope for his consent to a union with Stark.
Her father, who through the whole affair conducted himself as an honourable man, answered a letter which my friend addressed to him. This answer kept strictly to the truth; but at the same time expressed a wish that it might be the last; moreover, requesting the return of the letters of Emily. I will here communicate to you the letter which my friend wrote to the false one. He permitted me, as I was long the confidant of his attachment, and frequently the bearer of his letters, to take a copy of this, and also to show it to any good and tried friend. You may in it see the real nature of his character.
"Emily!--Thy father has requested me to renounce our verlobment; to break off the correspondence. I had already written to give him this assurance, but he had not the goodness to receive the letter. Consequently I have not given it him, and his will is for me no unconditional law.
"But thou appearest to be of the same mind, and thy wishes shall be sacred to me till my last breath. Fear not that I will embarrass thee with further importunities: only I cannot deny myself the melancholy pleasure, once more, in this last letter, to speak to thee from my heart. I will justify myself to thee, justify thou also thyself to thyself. My heart shall and must be silent: I have cause to fear that its language will no longer be understood; and I will not desecrate its sensibilities. It has for some time been my employment to read over again all thy letters with a bitter feeling. It is as if the lovely deception yet still played round my heart; as if it could not awake out of the sweet dream. I know many kinds of doubts, but none gives such a scorpion sting as the doubt with which thou hast inspired me. I have been happy,--happy in my vain belief! and I thank thee for it. Thou mayst be proud;--no other woman has made me so happy as thou. Thou mayst be very proud;--none can henceforward make me happy. Thou bringest me back to my old philosophy respecting the fair sex, and indeed at the right time.
"Emily, thou hast not dealt nobly, not honestly, with me, not wisely with thyself. Why hast thou not told me the truth? Thinkest thou that I shun the truth, even when it strikes me to the earth? I observed thy change immediately with the holiday. I ran to and fro, full of anguish, like one possessed. No greeting came from thee--no affectionate inquiry--no question after a letter, which I had, in fact, written seven times and tore again to pieces. My spirit was on the rack. Then informed me, Neuburg, that the connexion must cease; that thou wished it--thou! who only a fortnight before, sent me the most sacred protestations! Thy father had taken away all hope from thee; had menaced thee with his curse!
"Of all this nothing was true, as I learned from thy father's letter. What course, thinkest thou, then was left me to pursue in accordance with my character, but to write to thy father directly, as from thy messenger I must understand that he knew all. Hadst thou but said the truth to me, I should, after a short struggle, have returned every thing to thee.
"Thou complainest of my pride, and takest great pains to humble me. Perhaps thou mayst succeed; perhaps not. Thy father will receive no further letter from me; thy mother, none; thou thyself perhaps, none. That cannot humiliate me. I find my conduct tolerably consistent,--as consistent as a man in my state of mind can be.
"What shall I now do? It was thy desire,--thine, and thine only to break off. Thou wouldst have spared me, and thyself, and thy parents, many painful feelings, if thou hadst acted with somewhat more consideration. It seems as if thou hadst made it thy pleasure to wind up my sensibilities to such a height, in order then to make me feel my nothingness. Thou hast succeeded. The maiden who, but shortly before, hung on my neck, and prayed assurances of my truth, has now not once the courage to say that she loves me. I am too serious for gallantry; and thou hast wofully erred, if thou hast classed me amongst such men. It seems we have neither of us known each other, and need therefore make no complaints of each other. That I have disturbed thy peace, forgive me. That thou hast created in me so many beautiful hopes, only again to destroy them; that through thee my joys are dashed to the ground, that will I forgive thee; lament my simplicity, and again class thee amongst the ordinary crowd of maidens.
"Could I but do that, Emily, I should yet be happy enough. My seriousness has not pleased thee; and, in order to cure it, thou hast poured bitterness into it. I complain not of thy parents; they act according to their notions of duty; but how thou actest according to thy conception of duty, I cannot perceive. Thou hast neither acted towards thy father nor towards me as thou shouldst. The reasons which thy father gives are valid enough, as thou givest weight to them; but one thing more than all has struck me--it is called the fickleness of women.
"Thy father does thee justice. Emily, thou shouldst have been honest with me. I am not the man that will abuse the tender heart of a maiden. I challenge thee to speak the truth. Have I not been open-hearted with thee? Have I stolen thy affections? My whole soul hangs yet on thee, and never will it be able to loose itself from thee. If thou wert unworthy of me, would I weep and lament over thee? Tell me then candidly thy desires, and trust me that I have generosity enough to satisfy them all, even if it cost me my life. Thou canst charge nothing upon my honour. Thou would long ago have had thy letters, if thy father had not demanded them. He shall not receive them, but he shall read them if he desires it, for his own satisfaction and thy justification. Hast thou written any thing that thou art ashamed to acknowledge? Hast thou cause for shame? Then are we both to be pitied; thy father and I, and thou most of all. Then shall they, to extinguish all mistrust, be destroyed in thy presence. If I am reluctant to come into thy father's presence, yet I will not be ashamed before him. I am wont to compel respect, if indeed I can acquire no attachment. I can well imagine how many disadvantageous things people will tell thee at my expense. If thou canst believe them without examination, then, indeed, have I expended on thee every sentiment of my heart in vain. I pity thee in all my misery far more than myself, since I shall probably so long as I live continue a living reproof to thee. My conduct will be thy punishment. I assure thee, love, that I shall never lose thee out of my soul. I have with no other maiden stood in a nearer relationship. Thou art the only one that has firmly fixed herself in my heart. Go whither thou wilt, I shall bear thee with me to the grave. Thirty years hence thou wilt most probably hear from me exactly the same tone, if thou art by any circumstance reminded of me.
"Emily, thou shouldst have dealt more honestly with me. By God! I would have sacrificed every thing for thee. Wilt thou be happy when at thy wedding I sing a song of sorrow, that my friends may weep with me?
"Emily, I pray thee, for God's sake, by the happiness that thou yet hopest, be worthy of thyself: I cannot believe any thing bad of thy heart. Be the friend of thy father, if thou canst no longer be my beloved. If my kiss has not ennobled thee, then am I an outcast, or thou a creature without mind. Do nothing--nothing secret. What I did was done on thy account; otherwise I walk ever in the light. For my sake, also, show this letter to thy parents; I will not, when occasion requires it, conceal from them that I have written this letter.
"Allow me once more to deceive myself with the sweet delusion of the harmony of our souls. Thou hast destroyed a beautiful work, love, which thou shouldst not have done, or shouldst not have helped to build it up. Thou askest what I think, and not what I feel? I am infinitely sorrowful; and of what kind my affections are thou mayst read hereafter in my countenance. I may, perhaps, never again be so happy as to speak another syllable with thee, but my heart will accompany thee, since I am unchangeable!
"S. ----."
It is an old, old story,Yet bides for ever new;And he to whom it chances,It breaks his heart in two.Heyne.
It is an old, old story,
Yet bides for ever new;
And he to whom it chances,
It breaks his heart in two.
Heyne.
It came not truly so far with my friend; but happiness of his life was for a long period destroyed: the manly and high-toned character of his mind, however, saved him from sinking permanently under the weight which would have prostrated many a one of equally sensitive and strongly-devoted temperament. But, as an English poet has said, he resolved not to sacrifice
His name of manhood to a myrtle shade.
The fervour of his passion for political liberty, his admiration of heroic actions, and his pride in his native country, were very near, in the excited state of his mind, leading him to involve himself in the grand but ill-digested plans of the Burschenschaft for the consolidation of Germany into one magnificent empire; and probably the blowing up of those plans by the government measures which followed on the wild deeds of Sand and others, just at that crisis, saved him from the fate which most probably would have awaited one so ardent and qualified to take a prominent part--flight, or exile, from his native country. Therefore, turning his eyes away from this hopeless track, he studied with renewed severity, passed a splendid examination, and soon after wrote a work on the German political constitution, which at once attracted attention, and excited the admiration of all the lawyers in Germany. It was soon translated into most of the languages of Europe, and brought him a call from the principal university of one of the first states of Germany, where he now occupies the chair of jurisprudence with the most splendid reputation. He is no less distinguished by the clearness and grasp of his reasoning powers, than by the eloquence of his style, by which he contrives to diffuse a charm and a life into the driest topics; and he is equally so for the liberality of his principles, and the ardent devotion of his mind to the liberties of mankind. He is beloved by the students who attend his lectures, for the affability of his manners, and by his cordial readiness on all occasions to give them his advice in any of their troubles or perplexities. Having himself fought his way through a narrow and a rugged path, he knows how to sympathize with others in the same circumstances. His triumphs over his own impediments have not inspired him with arrogance; nor the sorrows and disappointments of his dearest hopes seared his sensibilities, but on the contrary, softened and mellowed his heart. In public, he wears in his pale and grave countenance traces, not only of his native tone of mind, but of the shattering baptism of spirit that he has passed through; but in the social circle, though often on his first entrance silent and reserved, the warmth of his imagination and heart are sure to triumph over the sadness of habitual reflection; and he charms every one with the poetry and the animated references to the great deeds and great men of his Fatherland, that show you that he is still at heart the same as when he listened in breathless attention to the stories of the old officer, or sung out Ossian on the forest hills.
Of Emily, we have little to say. Hidden, herself, in the retirement of private life, she would have seen with an inextinguishable regret the splendid career and wide fame of the man whom she had abandoned, had she possessed a mind worthy of becoming the companion of such a man and of such a destiny; but the great error of Stark's life was that of investing a lovely but not high-minded woman, with the poetry and the magnanimity of his own spirit. But he himself is a striking example of the virtues, the talents, and the indefatigable labours by which many a German Professor fights his way out of narrow circumstances, and through the shades of native obscurity, into the broad light of fame and public usefulness. Such instances are not rare, and they----but, hear I right? it even now strikes twelve!
In confirmation of this was heard on all sides the reports of fire-arms.
"Prost Neu-Jahr! gentlemen," cried Freisleben. "Prost Neu-Jahr!" resounded they in reply. Freisleben declared that his story was at an end; they drank off their glassesanstossingfor the first time in the new year, and hurried into the street.
Following the distant sound of the fire-arms, they soon came to the troop of students, which was marching round to bring to the Prorector, and to some of the most popular professors, a "Vivat!" Music went before, accompanied with torches; and a noisy swarm of students followed it,--some in cloaks and great coats; some in dressing-gowns, and with their long pipes in their mouths. You could easily see that they had all of them suddenly started away out of their kneips, where they had celebrated the termination of the old year. They now arrived at the dwelling of a professor. The musicians placed themselves in the centre of the street, surrounded by the torches; the students closed in around them in a dense circle, and the music played a tune. A student then stepped forward, and gave a loud "hoch!" to the Professor. All joined in it three times, while the music blew a flourish, and the pistols thundered off all round. As the third "hoch!" ceased, a window opened above, a dark figure showed itself, and immediately below "Silentium" was commanded. All were still, and the Professor spoke as follows:--
"Gentlemen! Ever since I have resided in Heidelberg as teacher, have you annually paid me this testimony of your respect and esteem; but were I to live to be as old as Methuselah, and was this scene every year renewed, it would give me a fresh satisfaction.
"Gentlemen! Let the world judge of our worth as men; let the republic of the learned, which you are growing up to become a part of, decide on our services as learned men, on our ability as teachers,--the means of alone coming to a just conclusion oh those points will still lie constantly in the hands of the student youth. May they always use them with wise consideration, and free from all party spirit. So long as we are able to labour with the vigour of men for the good of the High-School, will our honest endeavours to fill our posts worthily as teachers, not be in vain; and we rejoice in this glad consciousness that we find in the acknowledgments of the student youth, only an echo of that which our inner self declares. But when the zenith of our career is past, so comes by degrees the weakness, and with it the doubtfulness of age; and then does it delight us to find in the acknowledgments of others, the conviction that, although our hair has become whitened with the snow of age, yet our labour still preserves its freshness and its green. And the Ruperto-Carola is also an ancient and venerable stem, which ages in their flight have already visited with their storms; but, if these storms have often and fiercely shook it, they have never been able to uproot it. So long as teachers dwell under the shadow of this tree, who, anxiously seeking its prosperity, cherish and nourish the old trunk; so long as scholars make to it their pilgrimage, who seek knowledge earnestly, so long shall Ruperto-Carola flourish and bloom."
[Here the Professor went over the past year in review, and stated what it had brought both of good and evil to the university, and then continued.]
"May Ruperto-Carola ever possess scholars, of whose approval an honest man will be proud! May yet many an age on the festive day resound the cry of--'Vivat Ruperto-Carola!'"
The sons of the Muses here joined in with their thundering "vivats!" The music made a flourish--the pistols resounded.
"Once more," cried the Professor, in conclusion, "my hearty thanks for this proof of your love. May your Fatherland receive you in a while with pride from our arms, where it yet only reluctantly leaves you for your good. May you live long and happy!"
The professor withdrew from the window; the music played yet another tune, and the troop then marched onwards. The four friends having separated themselves from the throng, in order to return home, heard yet for a long time, the distant uproar of the merry students, and the sounding of the fire-arms.
We must here further observe, that not only such night-music is brought; but also on some occasions, in order to do the more honour to the professors, the so-called solemn night-music, attended by a greater procession of the students, who carry torches, and have their appointed marshals and officers, to maintain order in the procession. The description of a torch-train will yet follow. Before this arrives at the house of the Professor, two or three deputies proceed thither in a carriage. These, in full gala costume, wait upon him for whom the compliment is intended, and make him a short address. The Professor returns them his thanks, and as he has always become aware of the intention of the students, he has his bottle of champagne ready, which he sets before the deputies, andanstosseswith them. They retire as the torch-train approaches the house, and when the customary hochs! have been given: first, by the students to the honour of the Professor; and then by the Professor in his speech to the prosperity of the university, the officers who have stepped forward for the purpose clash their swords wildly together. Before retiring they generally sing--"Stosst an! Heidelberg live thou!" and the torch-train marches away.
In some places, as in Munich, it is the custom that the Prorector when the New-Year's-night "Hoch!" is brought him, invites the students in, and treats them with punch. It may readily be imagined how much of this liquor is consumed on such an occasion, and into what a predicament a Professor once fell in Munich, who had prepared his punch, but waited for the students in vain, who out of dislike omitted to pay him this visit of honour.
But it was destined that the Englishman and his three friends, to whom we must now return from this digression, should not on this night yet retire to rest. They had just arrived in the Karl-platz, as a man galloped past, crying out with all his might,--"The ice goes! The ice goes!"
This messenger was from Neckargemünd, sent to announce to the inhabitants of Heidelberg this event, which the people living on the banks of the river, and especially the boat-people, always look forward to with great anxiety, and take their measures of precaution accordingly. But especially in that winter were people full of apprehension, as the ice-covering had acquired an extraordinary thickness; and indeed, in some places, could no longer be called a covering, since the flood in shallow places was completely frozen to the bottom. After a fierce and early-occurring season of severity, the actual warmth of spring suddenly broke out, and the soft south wind melted the snow so rapidly on the hills that the waters ran in streams down their sides. But all was in readiness; and as soon as the four students reached the bridge, they saw, wherever the houses on the banks of the Neckar did not completely occupy its strand to the edge, groups of men, who had provided themselves with cressets with rolls of pitched torches, called pitch garlands, and awaited the spectacle with eager looks. The bridge itself was covered with men, and scarcely a place at the balustrade was to be fought out. From this place an interesting scene presented itself. So far as you could see the banks of the Neckar, the torches flamed, and threw their flickering lights on the surface of ice, on the crowding spectators, and on the neighbouring landscape.
In the city itself, most of the houses were lit up for the festival, while above them, in the country, the mountains and the old castle shrouded themselves in the deepest gloom. Most of those who had assembled on the bridge, were men in their ordinary dress, who had, on the announcement of the ice-break, hastened hither from the punch-bowl. But others had been roused from their beds, and exhibited themselves in costumes singular enough, over which they had hastily thrown their cloaks; out of which their nightcaps peeped above.
The explosion, as of distant thunder, was now heard, and the floods of water that rushed up through the disrupted ice were seen pouring over the surface. The ice in the neighbourhood of the bridge cracked and groaned aloud; deep fissures opened, and ran with lightning speed far and wide. But as the mass of waters still rushed nearer and nearer, and the ice continued to resist its pressure, the floods rose, and forcing into the streets, made the people assembled on the banks flee back precipitately. On the other side of the bridge, all hands in the mean time were busy removing the piles of fire-timber which were ranged there, and in conveying them to a safe distance. The huge fragments of the already up-torn ice were sent with fury over the ice-surface that yet resisted; in some places, piling itself up into actual bulwarks, and in others was heaved into the streets. Thus it happened, that a little boy who, forgotten of the rest in their flight, had escaped to the top of a pile of wood, above the bridge, was, by one of the masses of ice which was forced forward by the water and driven directly under the pile, carried aloft, together with the pile. Ere any one could spring to his assistance, the moment was come when the opposing ice could no longer maintain its resistance to the accumulating flood. It burst with loud explosions, and raising itself furiously with the other fragments rushed forward towards the bridge. Through the long contest, the water had acquired the most terrible agitation, and when the victory came at once, it formed itself into a headlong stream, which carried the mass of ice on which the boy was, rapidly towards the middle of the flood. The boy, surrounded by the raging element, shrieked in the most fearful manner for help. His cries of misery were scarcely to be heard, but they were not necessary to fill every spectator with terror and commiseration. But who shall help him! Many an able swimmer was there, but none would undertake so desperate an enterprise. Some cried out to throw a rope from the bridge, that the boy might lay hold of, but this was impracticable, for in the moment in which the ice-masses struck the piers of the bridge, they were scattered into fragments, and the stone bridge itself trembled with the shock of their dashing against it. Already the ice-mass, on which the boy sate in despair, approached the piers. Every spectator watched the horrible catastrophe with breathless expectation; when the masses of ice which now passed in countless numbers, blocked up first one and then another arch of the bridge. There was a momentary pause in the progress of the ice. At the crisis of this terrific spectacle, a band of lively music approached the bridge. It was the wild troop of students, who, having completed their round, and finished all their Vivats! and Lebe Hochs! were marching past with their torches, and amongst them was seen the Red Fisherman, who holding in one hand a torch, and in the other a pipe, was striding on with open breast, and in his shirt-sleeves.
"Ackermann! Ackermann!" shouted the multitude, "he must help! He alone can do it!"
The approaching train rushed upon the bridge; the torch-bearers flew to the balustrades to cast a light upon the scene--the music ceased in an instant The Red Fisherman, on whom all eyes were turned, cast but one glance towards the child; threw his torch on the ice below, and ran down from the bridge to the banks of the Neckar. It was high time, for the ice-masses again began to put themselves in motion. Boldly the fisherman sprung from one block of ice to another; already was he near the boy, when the ice broke beneath him; yet he fought desperately against the rushing water. He reached the boy, and endeavoured to raise himself upon the ice-mass;--at the same moment it went to pieces, and both the fisherman and the boy disappeared for some seconds. The people gave them up as lost for ever, when a voice was heard from the other side of the bridge, crying "A rope! a rope!" It was the fisherman himself, who stood on the basement at the foot of the pier with the boy in his arms! He stood up to the middle in water, but he held fast by a projection of the pier. A rope with a large piece of wood tied to it was speedily let down by some of the fishermen, and Ackermann with the boy was hauled up with the help of the students. As soon as his head appeared on a level with the parapet, he handed over the boy to the people, and then himself leaped over the iron balustrade. With a loud "Vivat!" he was here received; and the musicians blew the finest flourish that they had executed on this remarkable New-Year's night. The troop of students accompanied the Red Fisherman with loud acclamations, who quickly put himself in dry clothes; not regarding some slight wounds which he had received from the ice-masses. The students took him into their midst, and "Free-night! free-night!" resounded on all sides.
This cry of triumph means that they will revel the whole night through; and this takes place either at the room of some student, or at a kneip. In the last case, the permission of the police is necessary. These free-nights are only held on extraordinary occasions, or, as in many cases, when without any particular cause the sons of the Muses find themselves in a thoroughly joyous humour.
These were especially frequent formerly amongst the so-called Lumpia. This means a union of students, who bind themselves for a certain time to give themselves up to the Lump; that is to doing nothing, and to the wildest pleasures,--to drinking, playing at hazard, and so on. To the honour of the students these wild engagements are rare, and are in the strictest manner prohibited by the laws.
The Red Fisherman warmed his stiffened limbs at the kneip with punch, and a collection was made on the spot, whose proceeds were handed to him as his reward. The four friends in the mean time had taken the child, and brought it into a neighbouring inn, where it was undressed and put to bed, until the mother, who did not till some time afterwards learn the whole of the circumstances, could be fetched.
After the many events of the night, the wearied party hastened home, to dream over again what they had witnessed, variously metamorphosed by fancy, and one image mixed up and exchanged with another.
We Burschen freshly forth to the number of seventeen hundred; thou at our head, and butchers and tailors and shopkeepers behind us, and innkeeper and barber, and all the trade guilds of the city, swearing to storm the place, if a hair of the Burschens' heads is but crumpled.--Schiller's Robber.
Before we permit the Student to depart from the happy Burschendom into Philisterium, we will see in what manner he generally takes his farewell of the university.
For this, there are three ways: either the quiet way, in which we shall presently see Mr. Traveller depart; or the still quieter one in the stillness of the night, in order to avoid the hands of his creditors; or, finally, the compulsory one, which the Bursche must generally take who has made too much noise in the world.
We have already made ourselves acquainted with different excesses on which lie the penalties of banishment, and we will here speak of the greatest of all these excesses, at least of that, in respect to its application to members, the very greatest--the Marching Forth. As the duel is resorted to, to enforce justice from one student towards another; so it is the Marching Forth, in which the students not merely leave the bounds of order, but the university-city itself, which is regarded as the means of avenging the injured body upon the whole city, for an encroachment upon its rights. That the reader may obtain a clear notion of the Marching Forth, we will describe the one which took place amongst the students of Heidelberg, in the year 1828.
The Museum in Heidelberg, a building dedicated to social entertainment and pleasures, was built in 1827, and completed in the following year. The rules for the management of the institution, which, after careful consideration and proof, were adopted, did not in some particulars please a part of the students; others, however, found nothing to object to, and about seventy students immediately enrolled themselves as members. Instead now of leaving every one to his liberty, a part of the discontented came to the conclusion, that the museum must, so far as the university was concerned, be put altogether under the bann. As it was now found that they laboured zealously to this end, the teachers took the proper measures to prevent such a circumstance. A member of the senate, in whom the better portion of the students had always the strongest moral reliance, endeavoured by every means to make such of the students as stood high in the respect of their fellows, clearly to comprehend, that such a bann had the severest enactment of academical law against it; that it might render the Baden students unfortunate for life, if they allowed themselves to become partisans; that it might lead to the most angry contentions, if those who had already become members of the Museum, would not suffer themselves to be compelled to such an act of evacuation; and the Senate could not remain unconcerned spectators, by any means, of such disorder, not just then especially, as on the near approaching name-day of the Grand Duke, the Museum was to be solemnly and ceremoniously opened.
But the intelligence quickly spread, that the Burschenschaft, which by degrees and secretly had again sprung up, had pronounced the bann with great formality and haste, and that they were labouring with all their might to compel all other persons into the undertaking, and even to draw the natives into the matter along with them. Active measures were therefore unavoidable on the part of the Senate. It accordingly decreed, on the 13th of August, that immediately with the break of the following day, the members of the Burschenschaft should be brought to trial on account of the promulgation of the bann, and that they should be arrested in such a way, that there might be no concerted plan laid, upon what they should state in their defence, and in such a way also that no student should be absent from home.
On the 14th of August, the beadles received at a quarter to four in the morning, the order to pronounce house-arrest to some, and to remove others to the university prison, preparatory to their being called up for hearing. The trial began immediately, and would have been completed the same day, had the laws found obedience. But immediately on the sitting of the court, there arose in every street, the cry of "Bursch, come forth!" This is a call which every student must unconditionally obey, on pain of proscription. It is therefore, as a compulsion in opposition to the laws, and as the most convenient method of speedily raising a tumult, punished with the sharper expulsion.
So ran the ringleaders through the city with a loud "Bursch, come forth!" drew the students together from all quarters, and rushed with them, with great uproar, into the front of the university, where the Senate had speedily assembled, and stood in presence of the tumultuous throng at an open window. Instead of applying to the Prorector, as they should have done, had they ground of complaint, they even treated with contempt two summonses from the Senate to send deputies to explain their claims or demands, and immediately in the face of the Senate proceeded, with loud outcries, to make a desperate onset on the door of the adjoining academical buildings, with sticks and kicks, so that the upper beadle, to prevent further mischief, was obliged to liberate the incarcerated students. This being accomplished, they commenced their march forth towards Schwetzengen.
The whole city was in uproar. The shops were closed out of fear of the wild faction. Every where chaises rattled through the streets; the boot-foxes ran here and there; the inhabitants looked full of trouble out of their windows; when a student, with his sword in his hand, galloped through the streets with the fearful cry--"Bursch, come forth!" Most of the students went along with the train, only because the Comment, or Students' Code of Laws, demanded it, without well knowing for what purpose. The wild throng rushed into the houses of the dilatory, in order to rouse them out of bed. Hastily, every one packed up what was most necessary and threw it into the carriage, or buckled it upon a horse; and when no longer carriage or horse was procurable, the boot-foxes must become baggage-bearers.
In order to rouse all into a necessary degree of resentment, and to keep it up, the ringleaders circulated false stories. They spread it every where that the authorities had dragged the students out of their beds in the night; that they had thrust them into a hole where none could stand upright, and where there was not a single seat to rest upon; while the fact was, that they who were said to have suffered so much maltreatment in the night, were conducted to the academical buildings in clear daylight. Yet, in the excitement of the moment, these false reports found credit, and with the "Bursch, come forth!" which raged like a running fire through the streets, they availed in a very short time, to bring the whole student host together.
They who were on horseback placed themselves at the head of the procession; rode hither and thither, in order to quicken the motions of the dilatory, and to maintain the whole train in order. A long line of carriages followed them, of every description that could be got together in the haste of the occasion. Part were chaises, in which the students rode; part were wagons, on which were hastily loaded their packages. All the students had armed themselves in haste, as well as they might, with swords, rapiers, and pistols. They who found no place in the carriages, or on horseback, went on foot, and a great swarm of boot-foxes followed who were loaded with all kinds of house-gear, as pipes, dressing-gowns, coats, and so on. A vast crowd of people, consisting of school-youths who had to thank the students to-day for a holiday, and of all kinds of people who, in a university city, draw support from the students, added themselves to the train, and increased the uproar and alarm, with curses and insults, that the students should be suffered to go away. The inhabitants of the city looked down in wonder and curiosity from their windows roused from their sleep by the noise, and gazed on the motley throng who, with shouts and singing of Burschen-songs, swept by.
At length the rear of the train disappeared through the city gate, and a strange silence reigned in the deserted town. The doors opened, and the Philistines stepped out into the streets together, to talk over the fatal story. In the mean time a professor might be seen, with serious countenance and hasty steps, hurrying through the streets, and people looked doubtfully after him, or one or another of the citizens detained him to snatch a couple of words as to what was to be done in this necessity of the Fatherland. Here and there also might be seen a solitary student who had not been able to join the train in time, now hastening towards one or other of the city gates; since every one is compelled, on pain of entire proscription, to quit the city in case of a Marching-Forth, even if he does not join the train.
When the train arrived in Schwetzengen, the discontented saw that the territory of Baden was not safe for them, and that by passing the frontier they would enjoy more freedom. Suddenly there followed them from many quarters the report "The dragoons come, to fall upon us!" and all ran with wild haste to Ketsch, a village on the Rhine, where they caused themselves to be ferried over into Rheinish Bavaria. This false report of this falling of the troopers upon them had thus arisen. Immediately on the occurrence of the excess here related, the Senate held it necessary for the protection of the city, hastily to request a hundred dragoons to be sent for from Mannheim. These hundred dragoons marched out of Mannheim, about nine miles below Ketsch, only at half-past two o'clock in the afternoon, after the students had, in fact, crossed the Rhine at Ketsch; and they never directed their march at all against the students, but rode direct to Heidelberg. As it was then there well ascertained that the Marchers-Forth had taken up their quarters for the present in Frankenthal, where part of them were lodged in the town, and part of them had encamped in the neighbourhood under tents, and that many of them had become involved in the transaction through erroneous information, a member of the Senate was requested by the Curatorium to proceed to Frankenthal, and to endeavour to bring the young men to reason. This took place on the sixteenth of August, but without success. On the contrary, the emissary of the Senate was sent back with a remonstrance, very numerously signed, which concluded with a menacing clause, and demanded that the Senate should guarantee the whole body of students against all penalties, on account of this transaction, and should cause Heidelberg, without delay, to be evacuated by the troops. It was also added, by word of mouth, that the bann pronounced on the Museum, could not be retracted.
A similar endeavour, made through the university Amtmann, on the eighteenth of August, received as little attention, although the Museum, in many points, had yielded to their demands, and thereupon was immediately relieved from the proscription. The resentment against the Senate continued unabated; and therefore, on the evening of the eighteenth, in all haste, the academy was declared to be under the bann; this, however, was not done through the voting of individuals, but effected by the dreaded ringleaders pronouncing the bann, demanding then the others to accede to it, though many were opposed to it; and thus the resolution was passed in a painful silence, since individuals saw dangers on all sides of them if they refused. Yet in that night, and in the course of the next day, numbers quitted Frankenthal, and returned towards Heidelberg. Here, when they came to understand exactly the real circumstances of the case, there was regret and general discontent. A great number of the most noble young men loudly declared the bann to be dishonourable, to be null and void, because brought about by deception; to be contrary to all custom and precedent, and thereupon came some of the most artful proceedings to be talked of: for example, that in the remonstrance sent to the Senate, there were forged names of students who were absent at the time, and that the menacing clause had been surreptitiously introduced. In fact, the natives of Baden had had no part in the declaration of the bann.
On the twentieth of August the classes again were opened, while the trials were still proceeding. The ringleaders were punished with expulsion; others were banished for a certain term; and a greater number imprisoned for a longer or shorter period. The attention of the court was turned by these events afresh on the still continuance of the Burschenschaft, and it was pursued with yet greater severity of proscription than before. But the Studentschaft had so far achieved its original object, that its demands on the Museum were for the most part conceded.
Such Marchings-Forth are of rare occurrence, yet this is not the only one that has taken place in Heidelberg. Many years before this, occurred a something similar one, on account of contentions with the military, which then lay in Heidelberg.
A student, as he went past the watch-house, forgot to take the pipe from his mouth. He came into contention thereupon with the soldier on guard, who called an officer, by whom the student was very much insulted. This gave occasion to a Marching-Forth, which, however, proceeded no further than to Neuenheim, about a mile from the city, whence the students at once returned, all their demands being complied with; which, were, that a full amnesty should be guaranteed for all that was past, and that the soldiers should be removed. Moreover, the military were obliged to post themselves on the bridge, the officer at their head, and so present arms while the students marched past again into the city in triumph, and with music playing before them.
Where soldiers and students are brought together in one city, collisions are inevitable; at least in the smaller cities, where both cannot be sufficiently mixed and lost in the great mass of the people. Many contentions have heretofore arisen out of such collocation; and thus occurred also the Marching-Forth from Giessen in the year 1819. The military having in the most unallowable manner acted towards the students, and one of the students coming to a quarrel with an officer, was extremely insulted by him. There appeared in consequence of this a ministerial rescript, in which it was ordered that the military in future should only be called out against the students by a requisition from the Senate, and that all acts of illegality already alleged against the military on the part of the students should be strictly investigated, and every just satisfaction made to them. There immediately appeared a judgment on the part of the military college, by which the officer who had insulted the student was condemned to fourteen days' close arrest, which was immediately to take place; and was, moreover, required, in the presence of the rector of the university and of the colonel of the officer, to beg pardon of the student. The aforesaid ministerial rescription was now made known to the students by four deputies of the Senate, who waited on them in the place of their retreat; whereupon they immediately resolved to return to Giessen, and to restore every thing to its old course and order.
To give yet another example of a Marching-Forth, we may take the disturbance in Göttingen in the year 1818. Contentions arose between the then students and the members of some of the trade guilds; amongst others, with that of the butchers' guild. The house of a butcher who had especially insulted the students was very much damaged, and the windows of another house beaten in. A commission was despatched by the government to Göttingen to inquire into and quell the disturbance. The means, however, which were adopted in order to bring the incensed student youth again within the bounds of order, were not the most fitting; and the calling in of the military only made the matter worse. The students refused to succumb to a strange power. They boldly attacked the hussars; these drew their swords, and in the skirmish many students were dangerously wounded. About eight hundred of the students now marched out to Witzenhausen. They sent by the hands of four deputies, a memorial to the Senate, who delivered it and returned. In this document they complained, that one of their fellow-students had been maltreated by a butcher, and that the butcher had not been visited with the punishment due to his offence; that the sending of a royal commission altered the condition of their rights; that the authority of the same had been so far illegal that the reigning prince had not yet confirmed it; and finally, that the people had been attacked by the military in time of peace, whereby many had been wounded.
The ministry, thereupon, issued a rescript, which commanded the whole body of students to return, and if they refused obedience, threatened them with the loss of every claim to future employment by the state, as well as of all stipends that they might enjoy.
After an absence of more than eight days, the greater part of the students, who had scattered themselves through the country, returned, exerting, however, on their side a right of retaliation, by declaring the university to be for two and a half years under the bann to all foreigners. The foreigners immediately took their departure, and only about six hundred students were left in Göttingen,--about half of the number who had studied in it before those disturbances took place.
In Witzenhausen the people had fleeced the students of nearly all their cash. All necessaries of life, during their abode there, were raised to a monstrous price, and the burgers of that place charged them individually for a week's lodging as much as a louis-d'or. Therefore now, to quit Göttingen, they were obliged to dispose of every thing that they could possibly spare.
Many natives also, spite of the menaces of the ministers, quitted the cities; and Göttingen, in fact, presented a melancholy aspect. The departure of the foreigners was injurious to the city, in two respects; many workmen depended on them for subsistence, and besides this, they left many debts behind them. It was natural, in these circumstances, that many workmen too should quit the place, since their means of livelihood had failed, and thus the emptiness of Göttingen became still more apparent.
The sentence of the ministry upon these disturbances condemned one student to entire expulsion; many to the Consilium abeundi, or confinement in the university prison; and the master butcher also was punished with eight days' imprisonment, with bread and water. There was a further commission appointed for the trial of the originators of the bann, and these also were punished.
Thus peace and order were again restored; and in order to maintain these, precautionary measures were adopted; namely, every one studying in Göttingen, and every fresh comer, must sign a declaration, that he would take no part in the carrying into effect the bann pronounced against the university; and that he would never, either by word or deed, allow it to be supposed that he acknowledged that bann as actually existing. Spite of all these regulations, it was a very long time before Göttingen was able to regain its former state of prosperity.
These Marchings-Forth may serve to show how jealously the students defend their privileges, not only against individuals, but even against the state. The student avenges himself upon any one by whom he is unjustly attacked. A ludicrous story connected with these practices occurs to our recollection, which happened very shortly after the tragic act of Sand.
An actor, who played heroic characters in the theatre at Darmstadt, was at the supper-table in the inn there, and gave a loose very freely and sourly to his remarks upon students and universities. A student from Heidelberg, who was present, and had in his possession a letter to deliver to this very actor, determined to punish him a little for his observations, and therefore on this evening did not present him the letter. In the morning he went to the dwelling of the actor, caused his room to be shown to him, and finding him alone, inquired with a dark countenance--"Are you the Herr Court-actor F----r?" "Yes."--"Are you really the Herr Court-actor F----r?"--he reiterated sternly. "Yes!"--"Now!" cried the student, with a loud voice, and thrusting his hand into his bosom. The poor hero, who imagined he had got a dagger there, darted at full speed away. The student laughing called him back. "Stop!" said he, "stop! it is only a letter!"
In recent times, when people are not so pliant towards the students, the Marchings-Forth have more and more disappeared. In the year 1838, the students conceived that their rights were infringed by the gendarmerie. They assembled at the Hirschgasse; one of them stated the case to the rest, and invited them to subscribe a memorial on the subject to the Senate, requesting the removal of those gendarmes. As the doors were in the meantime all guarded by the Chore people, so all complied with the invitation. When all had signed, they returned to the city in one body, two and two abreast; sang "Free is the Bursch," and presented their memorial to the Prorector. They derived, however, little satisfaction from this proceeding; and as the document contained expressions dishonourable to the Senate, some of the ringleaders were punished.
But the cry "Bursch, come forth!" has not always been employed for the purpose of effecting a Marching-Forth in opposition to the laws. It has on many an occasion served to assemble speedily the Burschen for the noblest objects. It was thus in Heidelberg, when at one time the bitterness against the Jews had spread itself through Germany. Suddenly a great throng of Handwerksburschen in this city also, and others of that class who have nothing to lose and always a chance to win something in every revolution, had got together, and scoured the streets, crying "Hep! Hep!" They hastened to the houses of the Jews, to plunder them and mishandle their inmates. The city soldiers were called upon to disperse the rioters, but in a cowardly manner refused to do their duty. People were in a great perplexity how to protect the unfortunate Jews. Some students met the then Prorector, who was on his way to the Senate, and engaged to him speedily to restore quiet if he would only allow them to cry, "Bursch, come forth!" The Prorector took the responsibility upon himself, and scarcely was the shout of "Bursch, come forth!" raised, when from all sides came running the students, armed with their swords. One of those who came first, placed himself at the door of one of the richest Jews in the city, against whom the mass of the mob were most desperate, and drawing his sword, called to the pressing throngs, full of zeal for the good cause--"Only over my corpse lies your way into this house!" The assailants fell back with terror; other students speedily came to his aid, and chased away the rabble. One of the professors took a sword from the hand of a student, and led on the sons of the Muses. They surrounded the houses which the rioters had already forced their way into, holding their drawn swords before the windows so as to prevent all escape, while others, rushing into the house, seized the plunderers, and gave them into the hands of the police. Peace was in a very short time restored. The Jews made a public acknowledgment of their thanks to the academicians, and the Senate cited before them such of the students as had most distinguished themselves, in order to thank them themselves, and through them to thank all the others who had given such timely and successful aid.
In other circumstances of danger too, the students have often distinguished themselves. This has been especially the case in fires, where, placing themselves in long rows from the scene of burning to the river, they have made the water-buckets pass from hand to hand with astonishing celerity, and all the time have relieved their work with singing.
Once also they executed, in Heidelberg, justice in the promptest manner. It was when, at the instigation of Prussia, Baden lost again the freedom of the press, which the Grand Duke Leopold had conferred on it at his entrance on the government. Over this circumstance a great bitterness was felt in Heidelberg. Just at this crisis the Prussian students at that university celebrated the birthday of their king, as they are accustomed to do every year. This took place in a Commers in Neckarsteinach, and as they are often accustomed, they returned to the city in the evening in an illuminated barge, down the Neckar, with fireworks. A report had spread itself, that the people, who beheld the spectacle from the Neckar bridge, would insult the Prussians, when they passed under the bridge. The police were concerting preventive measures, when the other students requested to be allowed to maintain the peace. It was granted to them; and in the evening, they awaited quietly in their kneips the intelligence of the approach of the festive barge. They then spread themselves amongst the crowd upon the bridge. As the boat now drew near, and the customary "Vivat, the king of Prussia!" was heard resounding from it, the mob on the bridge began to bawl out a "Pereat!" and one Handwerksbursch was bold enough to fling down a stone. In a moment such a storm of cuffs and boxes on the ears was rained down from all quarters on the disturbers, that they were compelled to fly from the hands of those who were an overmatch for them; thus the bridge was speedily evacuated by the whole tribe, and the barge came to its anchorage without further molestation.
Another cause which often compels the students to quit the university, and indeed in all stillness, is debt. That the young men at the High-School may readily fall into debt, is easy to conceive. Most of them were till this time at schools where they were quite dependent on their parents, and have now, for the first time, considerable sums in their hands; and beyond this, the way into debt is made so particularly easy to the student. The landlords, the shopkeepers, and all others, who derive an advantage from the students, freely give credit, orpump, as the students term it. They do it the more willingly, since it is a good opportunity to make the account a little larger (since the English and students, as the student says, generally chop above the ear, that is, suffer themselves to be overcharged); and moreover, the students look on it as a certain prerogative, of which many are compelled to avail themselves, who, especially in their first year, need more than their remittances. A master tailor who was much in mode amongst the students, once attempted to put an end to this silently acknowledged privilege, but it cost him dear. This man sent round a list amongst his colleagues, by which every one who signed his name bound himself to give no more credit to any student. But this list had not circulated far, when the students became aware of the fact. They assembled themselves that evening at their kneip, armed with their swards, proceeded thence to the house of the tailor, dashed all the windows in, broke open the doors, and rushed into the workshops and store-rooms of the tailor; where they cut to pieces, and bored through all his pieces of cloth and ready-made clothes, so that they were totally ruined. The actors, indeed, were punished, and required to pay all the damages, but the tailor had for ever lost the business of the students, and his fellow-tradesmen took warning from the transaction.
The academical laws have endeavoured to put a check on this facility of debt-making, by determining that all demands for credited wines and spirituous liquors, excepting the regular choppin of wine or beer set before his guests by the landlord or master of an ordinary,--all demands of the masters of coffee and billiard-rooms, as such,--all play debts, demands for carriage, sledge, or horse-hire for more than one journey, which may be made on students, shall not be recoverable in a court of law; and it is also enacted to what extent credit for all necessaries of life, for books, and such things, may be given, so as yet to leave a legal right of recovery. In order to make themselves secure against a student, whom they are afraid may attempt to quit without discharging his debt, the creditor is accustomed to take the usual and effectual way, that is, to go and lay an arrest on his departure-testimonial, which will then not be handed to the student by the university office, till he has paid his debts; by which means it becomes very difficult to quit the place without a fair settlement with his creditors. One way, however, remains for him. In the university cities are people who lend money to the students at a high rate of interest. These the student pumps, as he calls it,--and, as claims for money lent to students are untenable before the court, these people generally get the loss when a student runs off, as well as all those other creditors who have not protested against the delivery of his testimonial. This burning through, or running through the rags, as starting without paying is called, was formerly much more frequent than at present. If it now sometimes happens, yet the cases are very rare in which they do not afterwards pay as soon as they are in circumstances to do it. When these escapes were made, it was generally at midnight; or in this manner,--the youth's companions accompanied him in a Comitat, or one of their regular departure-processions, but another student was set in the first carriage, in the place of honour, as though it were he who was leaving. When they had, however, quitted the city, the real departer took the place of honour, and the pretended one then quietly returned to the city. On such occasions was song the song, of course not till the immediate danger was past--
Forth from here, the Manichæans watch us.
The Manichæans are the creditors, so called after the old much reprobated sect of the Manichæans, who in the third century held the doctrines of the Persian heretic Manes.