Part 14 (1/2)
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 fis.h.i.+ng 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 fis.h.i.+ng, 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 works.h.i.+p, 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 fas.h.i.+on. 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!”