The reader must pardon us that we have permitted ourselves to be seduced by the charms of nature to inweave here what might perhaps have found a place in one of the last chapters; where indeed we propose to consider what influence the student life has on the spirit and mind of the pupil of Minerva. He will allow us now to return to our present subject.

The more distant places the student seeks by means of a horse or carriage. The riding horses for hire are truly, for the most part, wretched jades. Even the means which the Renommist of Zachariae used would prove unavailing here; and what he thus describes, on such Rosinantes as these could not come to pa.s.s.

A spur-stroke and a curse gave wings unto his horse.

The crack of ponderous whip, and rib-thumps, sans remorse, Sent him all foaming on, till almost, in a minute, The country lay behind him, the next, he was not in it.

A peculiar cla.s.s of equipages are let out in the university cities, and are hired by the student partly on account of their cheapness, but more especially, because he can charioteer himself. He styles these little chaises with one horse, a one-span, or one-engine. With one of these he undertakes journeys which, especially on Sundays, stretch themselves as far as Mannheim, to the Hardt mountains, to the Melibocus, or even to Karlsruhe and Baden-Baden. The persecuted horse who drags these vehicles, knows the way from Mannheim and other places, much better than his temporary master; and when in dark nights a one-engine goes wrong or comes to any accident it is for the most part because his driver will not let him have his own way. Many a time the poor beasts are so weary that the student can no longer urge them forward with the whip, and is obliged to have recourse to stones that he picks from the road.

Water excursions are seldom undertaken, because the ill-constructed pleasure-boats do not allow him to guide them himself. The neighbourhood of so many beautiful countries incites the student to more extensive excursions, and he travels during the vacations, into Switzerland, the Rhine country, and other places, chiefly in company of a few friends. We may suppose it to be on some incident connected with one of these excursions that Uhland has founded his beautiful ballad of

THE WIRTHIN'S DAUGHTER.

Three students crossed over the Rhine-stream one day, 'Twas to a Frau Wirthin's they wended their way.

"Frau Wirthin, hast thou good beer and wine, And where is that lovely daughter of thine!"

"My beer and wine are fresh and clear; My dear daughter lies upon the death-bier!"

And as they stepped to the innermost room, There she was lying robed for the tomb.

The first he withdrew then the veiling screen, And gazed upon her with sorrowful mien:

"Ah, wert thou living, fair flower of earth, How should I love thee from this day forth!"

The second he covered the pale, dead face, And turn'd him round and wept apace:

"Ah, there thou art lying on thy death-bier, And how have I loved thee for many a year!"

The third he lifted once more the veil, And kissed her upon the lips so pale:

"Thee I loved ever! yet love thee to-day!

And still shall I love thee for aye and for aye!"

That the student is not totally debarred from field-sports either, the number of game dogs that he keeps sufficiently testify. A tract of land lying along the Neckar, between Handschuhsheim and Dossenheim, is a.s.signed to him as his sporting ground; yet he is forbidden by the law, to take any game-dog thither with him. This is probably to prevent damage to the autumnal and winter crops of the peasants; which would otherwise be sorely overrun by men and dogs. This regulation, and the high cultivation of this tract, are the cause that the solitary student, wandering thither with his gun, thinks himself lucky if he returns home with an odd hare or partridge. But he has also frequent admittance to other hunting-grounds which lie in the farms of different citizens. The amus.e.m.e.nt of fishing does not appear so very attractive to the German as to the Englishman, and one seldom now sees an isolated son of the Muses, who patiently watches the line which is thrown into the Neckar-stream, till a little fish befools itself with the bait. The student loves not that sort of fishing, which according to his German notion, seems at once a phlegmatic and tedious business; and there is a caricature of an Englishman made by the students, which represents him as sitting patiently watching his float so long, that a spider had spun his web in the angle of the rod and line, and had already caught several flies there before the fisherman had hooked a single fin.

Before we quit the summer pleasures of the student, we must say a few words on the _Kirchweihs_--wakes. The reader must not alarm himself with the fear that we are going to bore him with an essay on church solemnities--we allude only to those popular festivities with which the anniversary of the dedication of a church is celebrated. As is often the case, this feast has lost its original intention; scarcely any one thinks of the meaning of the word, which in the mouth of the ordinary people is corrupted to _Kerve_. Every little nest, much too poor for the possession of a church, yes, many an individual public house, even, has its particular Kirchweih. By what authority it has usurped this name and holiday, n.o.body troubles himself to inquire. People are quite contented that, through these Kirchweihen, of which one or more fall out within their reach every Sunday during the summer, they find occasion to dance, drink, and sing. From every city gate then presses forth a motley group; the worthy burger, the Handwerksbursche, the alert young dressmaker, the homely housemaid, all are crowding forward in a promiscuous throng. Amongst them one descries companies of a higher grade, which rejoice themselves in the splendid summer's day.

So gladly each sans himself to-day!

Out of low houses, with damp, dull rooms; Out of the bonds of labour and trade; Out of the crash of the narrow alleys; Out of the church's reverent night,-- They all are brought forth into the light.

See! only see! how nimbly sallies The mult.i.tude, scattering through garden and field; How it gaily again on the broad flood rallies, Alive with all joys that boats can yield.

Who has not called to mind these lines of the great master, when he has looked on the stream of the popular throng that has swept on towards one of the resorts of holiday pleasures. In the midst of this tumult the students are also to be seen following the current of the great stream in smaller or greater companies. If in modern times the singular attire less distinguishes him from the crowd, yet the practised eye readily singles out the student from the Handwerksbursche and the shop a.s.sistant. On the countenance of the Handworker we see displayed the joy which he feels to find himself once more for a day able to flee from the dusty workship, and the pride of showing himself in his Sunday bravery, in the astonished eyes, as he believes, of the world. This holiday array he has truly often thrown upon his back in a queer enough style. In black frock coat, white trousers, high cravat, and glittering boots, stalks he clumsily along, and his rude taste extends itself to the very pipe which he carries in his hand. On the contrary, the Pendulum has clad himself after the newest French fashion. All is smoothed and polished off to a nicety. He looks like a dish that the hungry Nero has licked into the most elegant cleanness. Scarcely dare he turn himself in his beautiful clothes lest he should crumple the ornate and artistical knot of his neckcloth; lest he should derange the nice tornure of his locks. He wheels himself aside only to see whether the admiring gaze of the fair s.e.x is not following him. "_Nothig_,"

would the student say--that is, "it would be well for him if it did!"

The student disdains, Knoten-like, to beautify himself on a Sunday. One day is like another to him; he can devote it either to study or to pleasure. So, as on other days, he lounges carelessly along. His attire is not studied, but it is convenient; and according to individual taste, more or less excellently chosen. A short frock-coat, often of a peculiar cut, and the little cap, are all that distinguish him.

Formerly, indeed, the costume, one entire singularity, and the coloured Ch.o.r.e-ribbands, the variegated cap, and the tri-colour of the Burschenschaft, were worn openly. But in spite of all this, nothing is so easy as to recognise the student by his free and self-possessed carriage. Saucily, often haughtily, he observes the groups of onward-pouring people, without turning a step out of his track; careless whether he be an object of notice, being only too secure that he is. So leaves he the city Besom to the Handwerksbursche, nodding, however, a pa.s.sing greeting to this and the other as they go by, a.s.sured that, arrived at the dancing place, they will speedily forsake the Knoten to fly to the arms of the more favoured dancer.

I catch the hamlet's stir and cheer, The people's genuine heaven is here!

Here great and small shoot glad and free, Here I'm a man--here may one be!

The Kirchweihs which in the neighbourhood of Heidelberg are the most noted, are those of Neckarsteinach and Kirscheim. Thither, some years ago, some of the most conspicuous burger families were accustomed to make an annual rustic pilgrimage of pleasure. This glory is gone by; yet we would recommend the latter still as the best place in which for the stranger to witness this folks'-feast, if so we may term it. We follow the sound of obstreperous music, and enter a garden, where a motley mult.i.tude presents itself to our sight. All the tables are filled; people eat and drink, chatter and smoke, laugh and sing, all in one chaos of merry confusion. Hither and thither, where an impatient guest thumps vigorously on the table with his gla.s.s, run the waiters--in the student's tongue, Faxe. At one table an honest burger company has planted itself, and over a gla.s.s of wine, weigh seriously whether the European balance of power can be maintained, and criticise the government of the city.

No, no, I like him not; our span-new burgermaster, As he's so bold already, he'll come it thick and faster.

And for the town, what doth he, pray?

Gets it not worse then every day!

Certain youngsters have seated themselves beside them in a state of considerable perplexity, whether they shall be held fast by the wise conversation of these elders, or shall follow the bewitching sounds of youthful merriment.

At the next table, a knot of Bauers carry on a zealous discourse, of which one catches these syllables in pa.s.sing,--"Oney think o'that, now; that the thing can run so wi'out bosses. It's got the divil in't's body, an' that the outlandish folk have fun' out again!" It is the railroads that have thrown the fat farmers into such a heat, and they raise themselves into such a fidget with talking of the steam-engines, that they blow as much smoke out of their earthen pipes, called by the students _earthly_ pipes, as the engines themselves can send out steam.

But at another table we behold the dear image of youth. The Handwerksbursch, who treats his maiden with wine and cakes; the school youth who is there playing off the bursche before them, but looks round, ever and anon, lest the original that he is counterfeiting be near, or his teacher, who walking this way might reprove his presumption; the fresh country maiden, and the gay damsel of the city, all desire to make themselves amiable, and seek by their t.i.ttering and laughter, to let every one observe that they are capitally entertained by their swains.

One table is occupied by the students, who, revelling in a rich repast, now look up at the beauty of the Neckar-Thal, and now mix themselves in the throng, whispering with this and that maiden, to whom their shepherds cast frowns like thunderclouds. But careless of this, the sons of the Muses conduct them forward to the dancing-floor:

And all already dance like mad-- Juchhe! Juchhe!

Juchheisa! Heisa! Ha!

So goes the fiddle-bow.

Faster and faster goes the music, and ever madder whirls the waltz. In complete equality and freedom seem here the most opposite elements to be mingled. The atmosphere is already smothering hot, and clouds of dost fly up. But that matters not. He that finds it too hot flings off his coat, and dances in his shirt sleeves; he that does not find the music keep time, helps it with the stamping of his foot. All seems totally happy--all unity. But the wine has, meantime, heated their heads, and suddenly in one corner of the hall rises a terrible hubbub.

The strife has arisen about that maiden who, there weeping, endeavours to part the combatants. "What would the silly Knoten?" cries a student Then springs wrathfully forth a brisk tailor. "What be we? Knoten be we? dirt be we? Who says that, is an a.s.s, and I say it!" A swarm of students that have rushed into the saloon raise a burst of hearty laughter. Then blazes the wrath of the Handwerksburschen; "Brother Hamburger! brother Leipsicer!" they cry. Numbers of them rush together, and strike with sticks, chair-legs, and bottles, at the little knot of students furiously, who grimly stand on their defence.

The Bursche shouts--

"Let each man arm himself like me, with st.u.r.dy stang, And chase unto destruction the beastly Lumpen gang."

'Tis said and it is done! Bellona storms on high, And the battle is renewed with menace and reply.

_Zachariae's Renommist_.

But bravery must yield to mult.i.tudes.

They now begin to quit the b.l.o.o.d.y battle-field, Yet slowly draw they off, and scarcely seem to yield; And loath unto the base their n.o.ble backs to show, They whirl their last club at them, as from the ground they go.

_Ibid_.