The
third duel was brief and bloody. The surgeon stopped it when he saw that
one of the men had received such bad wounds that he could not fight longer
without endangering his life.
The
fourth duel was a tremendous encounter; but at the end of five or six
minutes the surgeon interfered once more: another man so severely hurt
as to render it unsafe to add to his harms. I watched this engagement
as I watched the others — with rapt interest and strong excitement,
and with a shrink and a shudder for every blow that laid open a cheek
or a forehead; and a conscious paling of my face when I occasionally saw
a wound of a yet more shocking nature inflicted. My eyes were upon the
loser of this duel when he got his last and vanquishing wound —
it was in his face and it carried away his — but no matter, I must
not enter into details. I had but a glance, and then turned quickly, but
I would not have been looking at all if I had known what was coming. No,
that is probably not true; one thinks he would not look if he knew what
was coming, but the interest and the excitement are so powerful that they
would doubtless conquer all other feelings; and so, under the fierce exhilaration
of the clashing steel, he would yield and look after all. Sometimes spectators
of these duels faint — and it does seem a very reasonable thing
to do, too.
Both
parties to this fourth duel were badly hurt so much that the surgeon was
at work upon them nearly or quite an hour — a fact which is suggestive.
But this waiting interval was not wasted in idleness by the assembled
students. It was past noon, therefore they ordered their landlord, downstairs,
to send up hot beefsteaks, chickens, and such things, and these they ate,
sitting comfortable at the several tables, whilst they chatted, disputed
and laughed. The door to the surgeon's room stood open, meantime, but
the cutting, sewing, splicing, and bandaging going on in there in plain
view did not seem to disturb anyone's appetite. I went in and saw the
surgeon labor awhile, but could not enjoy; it was much less trying to
see the wounds given and received than to see them mended; the stir and
turmoil, and the music of the steel, were wanting here — one's nerves
were wrung by this grisly spectacle, whilst the duel's compensating pleasurable
thrill was lacking.
Finally
the doctor finished, and the men who were to fight the closing battle
of the day came forth. A good many dinners were not completed, yet, but
no matter, they could be eaten cold, after the battle; therefore everybody
crowded forth to see. This was not a love duel, but a "satisfaction"
affair. These two students had quarreled, and were here to settle it.
They did not belong to any of the corps, but they were furnished with
weapons and armor, and permitted to fight here by the five corps as a
courtesy. Evidently these two young men were unfamiliar with the dueling
ceremonies, though they were not unfamiliar with the sword. When they
were placed in position they thought it was time to begin — and
then did begin, too, and with a most impetuous energy, without waiting
for anybody to give the word. This vastly amused the spectators, and even
broke down their studied and courtly gravity and surprised them into laughter.
Of course the seconds struck up the swords and started the duel over again.
At the word, the deluge of blows began, but before long the surgeon once
more interfered — for the only reason which ever permits him to
interfere — and the day's war was over. It was now two in the afternoon,
and I had been present since half past nine in the morning. The field
of battle was indeed a red one by this time; but some sawdust soon righted
that. There had been one duel before I arrived. In it one of the men received
many injuries, while the other one escaped without a scratch.
I
had seen the heads and faces of ten youths gashed in every direction by
the keen two-edged blades, and yet had not seen a victim wince, nor heard
a moan, or detected any fleeting expression which confessed the sharp
pain the hurts were inflicting. This was good fortitude, indeed. Such
endurance is to be expected in savages and prize-fighters, for they are
born and educated to it; but to find it in such perfection in these gently
bred and kindly natured young fellows is matter for surprise. It was not
merely under the excitement of the sword-play that this fortitude was
shown; it was shown in the surgeon's room where an uninspiring quiet reigned,
and where there was no audience. The doctor's manipulations brought out
neither grimaces nor moans. And in the fights it was observable that these
lads hacked and slashed with the same tremendous spirit, after they were
covered with streaming wounds, which they had shown in the beginning.
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The
world in general looks upon the college duels as very farcical affairs:
true, but considering that the college duel is fought by boys; that the
swords are real swords; and that the head and face are exposed, it seems
to me that it is a farce which had quite a grave side to it. People laugh
at it mainly because they think the student is so covered up with armor
that he cannot be hurt. But it is not so; his eyes and ears are protected,
but the rest of his face and head are bare. He can not only be badly wounded,
but his life is in danger; and he would sometimes lose it but for the
interference of the surgeon. It is not intended that his life shall be
endangered. Fatal accidents are possible, however. For instance, the student's
sword may break, and the end of it fly up behind his antagonist's ear
and cut an artery which could not be reached if the sword remained whole.
This has happened, sometimes, and death has resulted on the spot. Formerly
the student's armpits were not protected — and at that time the
swords were pointed, whereas they are blunt, now; so an artery in the
armpit was sometimes cut, and death followed. Then in the days of sharp-pointed
swords, a spectator was an occasional victim — the end of a broken
sword flew five or ten feet and buried itself in his neck or his heart,
and death ensued instantly. The student duels in Germany occasion two
or three deaths every year, now, but this arises only from the carelessness
of the wounded men; they eat or drink imprudently, or commit
excesses in the way of overexertion; inflammation sets in and gets such
a headway that it cannot be arrested. Indeed, there is blood and pain
and danger enough about the college duel to entitle it to a considerable
degree of respect.
All the customs,
all the laws, all the details, pertaining to the student duel are quaint
and naive. The grave, precise, and courtly ceremony with which the thing
is conducted, invests it with a sort of antique charm.
This dignity
and these knightly graces suggest the tournament, not the prize-fight.
The laws are as curious as they are strict. For instance, the duelist
may step forward from the line he is placed upon, if he chooses, but never
back of it. If he steps back of it, or even leans back, it is considered
that he did it to avoid a blow or contrive an advantage; so he is dismissed
from his corps in disgrace. It would seem natural to step from under a
descending sword unconsciously, and against one's will and intent —
yet this unconsciousness is not allowed. Again: if under the sudden anguish
of a wound the receiver of it makes a grimace, he falls some degrees in
the estimation of his fellows; his corps are ashamed of him: they call
him "hare foot," which is the German equivalent for chicken-hearted.
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carelessness
of the wounded men
 Illustration:
wounded
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