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One
day in the interest of science my agent obtained permission to bring me
to the students' dueling-place. We crossed the river and drove up the
bank a few hundred yards, then turned to the left, entered a narrow alley,
followed it a hundred yards and arrived at a two-story public
house; we were acquainted with its outside aspect, for it was
visible from the hotel. We went upstairs and passed into a large whitewashed
apartment which was perhaps fifty feet long by thirty feet wide and twenty
or twenty-five high. It was a well-lighted place. There was no carpet.
Across one end and down both sides of the room extended a row of tables,
and at these tables some fifty or seventy-five students
were sitting. |
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two-story
public house
Hirschgasse.
(view from Schloss-Hotel)
Hirschgasse
um 1850.
Vor
der Hirschgasse. |
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Some
of them were sipping wine, others were playing cards, others chess, other
groups were chatting together, and many were smoking cigarettes while
they waited for the coming duels. Nearly all of them wore colored caps;
there were white caps, green caps, blue caps, red caps, and bright-yellow
ones; so, all the five corps were present in strong force. In the windows
at the vacant end of the room stood six or eight, narrow-bladed swords
with large protecting guards for the hand, and outside was a man
at work sharpening others on a grindstone.
He
understood his business; for when a sword left his hand one could shave
himself with it.
It
was observable that the young gentlemen neither bowed to nor spoke with
students whose caps differed in color from their own. This did not mean
hostility, but only an armed neutrality. It was considered that a person
could strike harder in the duel, and with a more earnest interest, if
he had never been in a condition of comradeship with his antagonist; therefore,
comradeship between the corps was not permitted. At intervals the presidents
of the five corps have a cold official intercourse with each other, but
nothing further. For example, when the regular dueling-day of one of the
corps approaches, its president calls for volunteers from among the membership
to offer battle; three or more respond — but there must not be less
than three; the president lays their names before the other presidents,
with the request that they furnish antagonists for these challengers from
among their corps. This is promptly done. It chanced that the present
occasion was the battle-day of the Red Cap Corps. They were the challengers,
and certain caps of other colors had volunteered to meet them. The students
fight duels in the room which I have described, two days in every
week during seven and a half or eight months in every year. This
custom had continued in Germany two hundred and fifty years.
To
return to my narrative. A student in a white cap met us and introduced
us to six or eight friends of his who also wore white caps, and while
we stood conversing, two strange-looking figures were led in from another
room. They were students panoplied for the duel. They were bareheaded;
their eyes were protected by iron goggles which projected an inch or more,
the leather straps of which bound their ears flat against their heads
were wound around and around with thick wrappings which a sword could
not cut through; from chin to ankle they were padded thoroughly against
injury; their arms were bandaged and rebandaged, layer upon layer, until
they looked like solid black logs. These weird apparitions had been handsome
youths, clad in fashionable attire, fifteen minutes before, but now they
did not resemble any beings one ever sees unless in nightmares. They strode
along, with their arms projecting straight out from their bodies; they
did not hold them out themselves, but fellow-students walked beside them
and gave the needed support. |
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man
at work
Illustration:
"UNDERSTANDS HIS BUSINESS." |
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There
was a rush for the vacant end of the room, now, and we followed and got
good places. The combatants were placed face to face, each with several
members of his own corps about him to assist; two seconds, well padded,
and with swords in their hands, took their stations; a student belonging
to neither of the opposing corps placed himself in a good position to
umpire the combat; another student stood by with a watch and a memorandum-book
to keep record of the time and the number and nature of the wounds; a
gray-haired surgeon was present with his lint, his bandages,
and his instruments.
After a moment's pause the duelists saluted the umpire respectfully, then
one after another the several officials stepped forward, gracefully removed
their caps and saluted him also, and returned to their places. Everything
was ready now; students stood crowded together in the foreground, and
others stood behind them on chairs and tables. Every face was turned toward
the center of attraction. |
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surgeon
Illustration:
THE OLD SURGEON.
Im
Flickzimmer.
(1885/86,
Detail: Wundarzt)
Im
Flickzimmer. (1885/86)
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The
combatants were watching each other with alert eyes; a perfect stillness,
a breathless interest reigned. I felt that I was going to see some wary
work. But not so. The instant the word was given, the two apparitions
sprang forward and began to rain blows down upon each other with such
lightning rapidity that I could not quite tell whether I saw the swords
or only flashes they made in the air; the rattling din of these blows
as they struck steel or paddings was something wonderfully stirring, and
they were struck with such terrific force that I could not understand
why the opposing sword was not beaten down under the assault. Presently,
in the midst of the sword-flashes, I saw a handful of hair skip
into the air as if it had lain loose on the victim's head and
a breath of wind had puffed it suddenly away.
The
seconds cried "Halt!" and knocked up the combatants' swords
with their own. The duelists sat down; a student official stepped forward,
examined the wounded head and touched the place with a sponge once or
twice; the surgeon came and turned back the hair from the wound —
and revealed a crimson gash two or three inches long, and proceeded to
bind an oval piece of leather and a bunch of lint over it; the tally-keeper
stepped up and tallied one for the opposition in his book. |
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hair
skip into the air
Illustration:
"THE FIRST WOUND."
Mensurbild
des S.-C. 1850
(Vandalia
ca. Saxoborussia).
Mensur
des S.-C. im G.-S. 1883
(Suevia
ca. Rhenania). |
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Then the duelists took position again; a small stream of blood
was flowing down the side of the injured man's head, and over his shoulder
and down his body to the floor, but he did not seem to mind this. The
word was given, and they plunged at each other as fiercely as before;
once more the blows rained and rattled and flashed; every few moments
the quick-eyed seconds would notice that a sword was bent — then
they called "Halt!" struck up the contending weapons, and an
assisting student straightened the bent one.
The
wonderful turmoil went on — presently a bright spark sprung from
a blade, and that blade broken in several pieces, sent one of its fragments
flying to the ceiling. A new sword was provided and the fight proceeded.
The exercise was tremendous, of course, and in time the fighters began
to show great fatigue. They were allowed to rest a moment, every little
while; they got other rests by wounding each other, for then they could
sit down while the doctor applied the lint and bandages. The laws is that
the battle must continue fifteen minutes if the men can hold out; and
as the pauses do not count, this duel was protracted to twenty or thirty
minutes, I judged. At last it was decided that the men were too much wearied
to do battle longer. They were led away drenched with crimson from head
to foot. That was a good fight, but it could not count, partly because
it did not last the lawful fifteen minutes (of actual fighting), and partly
because neither man was disabled by his wound. It was a drawn battle,
and corps law requires that drawn battles shall be refought as soon as
the adversaries are well of their hurts.
During
the conflict, I had talked a little, now and then, with a young gentleman
of the White Cap Corps, and he had mentioned that he was to fight next
— and had also pointed out his challenger, a young gentleman who
was leaning against the opposite wall smoking a cigarette and restfully
observing the duel then in progress.
My
acquaintanceship with a party to the coming contest had the effect of
giving me a kind of personal interest in it; I naturally wished he might
win, and it was the reverse of pleasant to learn that he probably would
not, because, although he was a notable swordsman, the challenger was
held to be his superior.
The
duel presently began and in the same furious way which had marked the
previous one. I stood close by, but could not tell which blows told and
which did not, they fell and vanished so like flashes of light. They all
seemed to tell; the swords always bent over the opponents' heads, from
the forehead back over the crown, and seemed to touch, all the way; but
it was not so — a protecting blade, invisible to me, was always
interposed between. At the end of ten seconds each man had struck twelve
or fifteen blows, and warded off twelve or fifteen, and no harm done;
then a sword became disabled, and a short rest followed whilst a new one
was brought. Early in the next round the White Corps student got an ugly
wound on the side of his head and gave his opponent one like it. In the
third round the latter received another bad wound in the head, and the
former had his under-lip divided. After that, the White Corps student
gave many severe wounds, but got none of the consequence in return. At
the end of five minutes from the beginning of the duel the surgeon stopped
it; the challenging party had suffered such injuries that any addition
to them might be dangerous. These injuries were a fearful spectacle, but
are better left undescribed. So, against expectation, my acquaintance
was the victor.
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small
stream of blood
Paukdoktor
Huber bei der Arbeit, 1909.
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See Appendix C |
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