Sketcher.

Southern Cross, Volume 1, Issue 43, 20 January 1894, Page 7

Sketcher.

STUDENT DUELLING IN GERMANY. Have you ever been on the Rhine V If you are an Englishman, you probably know the Rhine from Sch vfT-hau-en to the North Sea far better the n most Germans. If not, take my advice and go as soon as you can. Rut, if you have stayed in a cert tin famous university town not a hundred miles fro.n the banks of the Rhine, you h ive doubtless marvelled at the strmge appearance of many of the students, the 1 coloured Mv.-f.~i3 upon their heads surmounting square, good-humoured faces, which were so seamed across and across with sword-cuts that it was hard to tell where the smile ended and the scars began. Or perhaps yon have seen, as you sipped your coffee in a restaurant (Sy jove! what coffee !) some wounded hero, his head swathed in bandages, and a strip of court-plaster ’across his nose, the centre of a group of admireers, who are carrying on at the top of their voices a. conversation in which the words jyaiiken, hi-ih, schlcujen play an ominous and significant part. But though its effects are pretty obvious, the duel itself is seldom witnessed by strangers, for duelling, though winked at in practice, is generally forbidden in theory ; consequently a certain semblance of secrecy has to be kept up.

How, in common with most of ray countrymen, 1 did want to see a duel before leaving the Fatherland, and it was therefore with some pardonable gratification that, coming home to my rooms, I found a note on my table from a student friend : “ I will call you to-morrow ” (alas ! to-morrow had already merged into to-day !) — “ at five o’clock; there will be six duels, and R. is going to fight.” fsow id. was a particular friend of mine, and, as report went, was the champion hewer of heads and drawer of blood in the University. Accordingly, when, after about two hours’ sleep, 1 was awakened by a stern avfstehen , I turned out readily enough, eager for the fray, and joined the group of Gtirsclben awaiting me in the street below. “ Lots of blood let this morning,” said a war-like Teuton as he stuffed his mouth full of sausage. As we proceeded on our way, I found this murderous youth walking by my side. “ Have you ever fought a duel ?” asked I innocently. “Ach Goff ! ju” said he ; “ I am going to fight one this morning.” What was he going' to fight about ? Well, one night, as he was sitting quietly in a cafe, a couple of students entered, “ beautifully drunk ” (so he put it.) They naturally excited some attention, wdiich was of course resented. After a fev. r moments one of them staggered up to my companion and said : “ You have stared at me — may I request your card ?” That was all. What a curious thing this sense of honour is ! But wdrat w'ould an Oxford undergraduate student do if a stranger stared at him rudely ?” asked my companion. I w'as vainly trying to deprecate his politely disguised contempt at hearing that the undergraduate w r ould not thirst for the stranger’s blood, Avheu the sound of voices and the clink of glasses warned us that we ■were close upon the scene of action. A feAv steps out of the path brought us to a small clearing in the w r ood, where it was evident that something uncommon was going on. At either end of the clearing a large group of students was gathered, with here and there an officer —-some standing, some lying on the turf, most of them with the inevitable and omnipresent glass of beer by their side. As soon think of playing Hamlet” with the Prince of Denmark left out as crack a joke with a friend or cross swords Avith an enemy without a beer barrel in the midst. In the background, before a huge portmanteau, filled Avith swords,

gauntlets, and other implements of war was the factotum of the Verbindung-, who seemed as much at homein deeds of blood as of beer. Close by was the doctor, with one of those, mysterious cases evil-looking- instruments, his sleeves tucked up and a blue apron round his waist. Howlike a butcher lie looked ! The first duel was just over, but, asone of the spectators told me, it was not worth seeing-—no blood to speak of; the duel had been suspended by ing- against tremendous odds, but nevertheless, lie pegs gamely on, until suddenly be misses his guard completely, and the whole side of bis cheek is laid open from the upper lip to the ear, and cut clean asunder. This, of course, disabled him, and the doctor s tepped in and stopped the duel; but before separating the two combatants shook bands with the heartiest goodwill, and, I doubt not, will have another turn before the year is out. But it is not the least remarkable to see the beaten man, while the doctor sewed, patched, tied and bandged him up, sitting in his chair without a murmur or a sigh, as nonchalant and unmoved as though he were havinghis hair cut. Such was the “ quiet and gentle passage of arms ” which took placeone summer’s morning, in the year of grace, eighteen hundred and eightysix.—Lndgate Monthly.