University of Virginia Library

18. CHAPTER XVIII.
A LANDESVATER.

After this adventure, which, as may be supposed, it
was for the interest of all parties concerned to keep sedulously
secret, the course of life of my companions and
myself became utterly reckless. A partial restraint had
been put upon the conduct of Trump and Pappenheim
by their intended pians, and they had mingled more
freely in the society of the place than they would have
otherwise found consistent with their inclinations. As
for me, I had become sick of literary balls and aesthetic
tea-parties. The unhappy circumstances which had
created such a change in my career, and such a revolution
in my character, again recurred to my memory. I
was subject, as it were, to intermittent fits of insanity,
and I flew to scenes of the maddest excitement, the
wildest and most unbounded revelry, for distraction and
relief.

It was the sole end and aim of my existence at this
period, to drag myself out of myself—to escape from my
own consciousness; to annihilate, as it were, my identity.
My memory was a charnel-house,—and was it
strange that I should flee from it, and seek relief abroad?

I seemed to be walking as in a dream. I laughed and
revelled, and interested myself forcibly in the affairs of
others, and seemed a gay and indifferent man. But
there were moments when my heart would be alone;
no matter how many forms and faces surrounded me;
and it was then that I was indeed a wretch. There
were moments when memory would seize her torch, and
light up the inmost recesses of my soul, till, in its deadly
glare, those misfortunes which had begun to yield to the
influence of time, again presented themselves to my eyes,
in all their original hideousness, and I fled shrieking
from myself.

It is only for this, that I can force myself to palliate
any part of my conduct; and, although I do not mean
to dwell much upon the details of the lawless and abandoned
career to which a few companions and myself devoted
ourselves at this time, yet it is necessary for the
elucidation of the great moral which it is the purpose of
this work to convey, that I should at least offer this
passing comment upon an eventful, but most wasted portion
of my life.

I have already said enough for my purpose; and the
few scenes with which I shall conclude this book, I have
preserved, partly because they contain adventures peculiar
to the country in which I then was, (some of which
it was, perhaps, never the lot of any of my countrymen
to know,) and partly, and principally, because they contain
the sequel of those episodes in which I sought to interest
myself, and which I hope may have created some
corresponding sympathy in my readers.

The Pommeranian club were to hold their semi-annual
“commerz” This ancient and hereditary festival
is peculiar to the German university. It is simply a procession

concluding with a debauch. The procession is
only more whimsical than most processions, and the debauch
more furious and more protracted than most debauches.

At half-past five o'clock in the afternoon of a lovely
day in October, the Pommeranians, to the number of
one hundred and fifty together with their invited guests,
assembled in the court-yard of a house in the Weender-Strasse.
A band of music was playing martial and
spirit-stirring airs from the balcony, and a silk flag, with
the heraldic devices of the society splendidly emblazoned
upon it, was waving in the midst of the throng. Each
member wore a coat without collar or buttons, and loose
trowsers thrust for the nonce into horseman's boots.
Each wore a loose bag-cap of green and gold, (the colours
of the club) and a broad scarf, embroidered of the
same colours, which passed across the right shoulder,
and was knotted at the left side to the basket-hilt of the
duelling-sword. Each wore long hair, hanging in elflocks
about the face and ears, and each wore all the
moustachios and beard that Heaven had blessed him
withal. Lastly, each member was provided with a powerful-looking
horse, arrayed in trappings corresponding
with those of the riders, and each stood with one foot in
the stirrup, waiting the signal to start.

Presently the trumpet blew a stirring blast, and each
Pommeranian sprang to his seat—another, and the
whole company formed themselves into two lines, leaving
a space between—a third, and a knight in complete
armour, with his lance in rest, and the green-and-gold
pennon waiving from its point, suddenly appeared, galloped
through the alley formed by the double lines, and
took his station at the head of the assembly. This was

the senior of the club. Next followed, on foot, the band
of music, arrayed in military uniform of green and gold,
marching in cadence to slow and solemn measures. Next
came two buffoons, in chequered clothes, with fools-caps
on their heads, and bells on their heels. They danced
along the lines, mouthing and grimacing, and uttering
gibes and jests on the spectators. Next came a standard
bearer, with a herald's coat, and bearing a splendid
flag. He was followed by the con-senior of the club, in
a suit of silver armour, followed by two pursuivants on
horseback. After these came the Pommeranians, riding
slowly along, two by two, and followed and surrounded,
when they had passed out from the court-yard, by a rabble
rout of boys, and curs, and beggars.

The procession moved slowly through the principal
streets of the town, and after having displayed their
finery to their hearts' content, proceeded with all due
pomp and regularity to the “German Emperor,” the
inn where they were to sup, and conclude the day's entertainment.

We entered an immense hall, where the tables had
already been laid. The band was stationed in the gallery
immediately above the supper table. Another room
of tolerable dimensions communicated with the hall. I
looked in, and found the floor entirely covered with straw,
as if it was intended for a stable.

“What is the meaning of that room?” I asked, of
Rabenmark, with whom I was associated in the procession,
and next whom I was of course seated at supper.

“That is the `Todtenkammer,' (the chamber of the
dead,)” said he.

“And what is the use of the Todtenkammer?”

“It is a receptacle for the dead, of course,—that is to

say, for the dead-drunk. As soon as any one of the
company drops from his chair, he is rolled into that
chamber, and left till he recovers.”

“Ah! a very excellent and wholesale way of doing
business. Have the kindness to favour me with a kick,
if you find me in need of it.”

“Certainly; with the greatest pleasure.”

The senior and con-senior took their seats at each end
of the table, and the company attacked an excellent supper
without further ceremony. The eating part of the
business lasted about an hour; the band all the while
inspiring the appetites of the club by a series of enlivening
airs.

As soon as the cloth was cleared, and a few preliminary
glasses had been drunk the peculiar ceremony of
the Landesvater commenced.

This is a ceremony which is peculiar to the German
University, and in which, for the life of me, I never could
discover any meaning or moral.

The president rapped on the table for attention, and
then he and his next neighbour drew their swords and
laid them cross-wise on the table. The con-senior and
his neighbour did the same at the other end of the table.
All were silent. The music played the prelude of a
peculiar and most exquisite air. The faces of all present
became enthusiastic The music was repeated.
All arose. The senior again rapped on the table. The
music ceased. The members resumed their seats. All
was again silent.

“Are you all ready?” asked the senior, solemnly.

“All ready,” repeated the con-senior, with equal solemnity.

The senior nodded solemnly to the leader of the orchestra,—the

leader of the orchestra solemnly reciprocated
the signal. The music again sounded, and a wild
and singular song resounded through the hall.

During the time when the first stanza was being sung
by all the company present, the senior and con-senior of
the club, rose gravely from their seats, and advanced towards
each other till they met in the centre of the hall.
On meeting, they turned about, and hand in hand advanced
to the senior's place. The first stanza was concluded.
The senior stationed himself behind the person
who sat immediately next him, at the end of the table.
The con-senior stationed himself behind the member
who sat opposite the first student. He likewise rose.
The senior and con-senior laid their swords cross-wise
on the heads of the students. The second stanza was
then sung.

While this was singing, the senior and con-senior each
placed his sword in each student's left hand. Obedient
to the precepts of the oracular ballad, each took his cap
from his right hand, placed it on the top of the schläger,
and forced the blade through the cap entirely to the hilt.
All four then remained in the same position while the
third stanza was sung.

During the singing of this strophe, the two students
seized each an enormous goblet of Rhenish already prepared,
rang them against each other, swallowed them at
a draught, and turned them triumphantly on their nails;
the two dignitaries all the while holding the schlägers
over their heads. At the conclusion, the two kissed
each other affectionately, restored the swords with their
caps sticking upon them to the senior and con-senior,
and then resumed their seats. The chorus was then
sung.

As soon as this was finished, and the prelude was
again played by the orchestra, the two presidents then
stationed themselves behind the two next in succession;
and the first, second, and third stanzas with their accompanying
mummery were repeated.

The schlägers passed by loaded with caps, and becoming
heavier at each step in their progress.

When it came to my turn, the sword that was presented
to me, was so encumbered that it was a difficult
matter for me to execute my share in the ceremony.
The blade was stuck over with caps, jammed tightly
together, and reaching from hilt to point. I put as grave
a face as I could on the matter, to avoid having my
throat cut as the penalty,—added my cap to the pile,—
gulped down my wine,—kissed my vis-à-vis, — restored
my schläger to the president, and sat down, after having
got through less clumsily than I expected. During the
time the schlägers were passing down the table, those
not employed in the ceremony, of course found time to
empty a goodly number of bottles, and the chorus was
consequently sung with increased spirit at every step.

As soon as all present had gone through the ordeal,
there was a short interval, and then the second part of
the ceremony commenced. The senior and con-senior
retraced their steps; stationing themselves behind the
last couple who had affixed their caps to the schlägers;
and again placing their swords on their heads, the second
part of the song was then sung in full chorus.

During this, the couple, in obedience to the oracle,
received back their caps and sat down. The song was
then resumed, and the next couple received their property,
and so on, till the conclusion of the whole exhibition.

This was the venerable ceremony of the Landesvater,
which is, I believe, regularly observed, at least once in a
semester, by every club at every German university, and
of which, as I before observed, I was never yet able to
discover the meaning. It is traditional of course; but
whether it is connected with any historical personage or
event, I was never lucky enough to be informed.

After this business was finished, the conversation became
of course general. A thousand uproarious songs
were sung, and incredible quantities of wine were drunk.
Such was the “potency at potting” of the greater number
of those present, that we were far advanced in the
small hours, before any serious defalcation in our numbers
took place. Occasionally a student would quietly
roll out of his chair, and after floundering a few minutes
on the floor, would be kindly kicked by some two or
three of his particular friends into the Todtenkammer,
and left on the straw to sleep off the effects of his debauch.
Towards four or five in the morning, I looked
into that pleasing receptacle, and saw dozens sprawling
about in all possible postures and directions. In one
corner there would be a pile of dead heaped cross-wise
and heterogeneously upon each other. Some lay motionless
as the dead; some struggled and tossed about;
and some snored vehemently in their uneasy slumbers.

The “chamber of the dead” was no unapt designation
for the apartment. A dim lamp, which was suspended
to the wall on one side, cast a feeble and ghastly
light upon the carcasses. The disgusting and sepulchral
appearance of the whole spectacle, reminded me forcibly
of what I had once seen on looking into a public vault
of the Campo Santa at Naples, where the dead bodies
are cast in from above, carelessly and promiscuously,

and the decency of composing the limbs, and even closing
the eyes, is entirely dispensed with. Occasionally
I saw a prostrate form,—after struggling a few moments
with his lethargy,—at last succeed in throwing it off,
and arise from the heap of corpses, pale as a ghost,
with disordered dress, matted hair, ghastly eyes, livid
lips, and resembling rather a goul than a human body.
As soon as his resurrection was complete, he would hurry
to the scene of action, drain rapidly a half-dozen goblets
to signalize his recovery, and join again in the frantic
revelry under which he had once succumbed.

With the break of day there were still many who had
held out. Some indeed, were sleeping on their elbows,
and some were reclining in their chairs, full of wine and
fatigue. But the numbers at the table were still more
than half. As may be supposed, the freshest of the
party were the resurrectionists, or those who had last
emerged from the Todtenkammer; but all were horribly
drunk.

The waiters appeared,—the shutters were opened,—
the room aired; and those who were able, took advantage
of the interval, to make a hurried and drunken sort
of toilet.

Breakfast was then brought, consisting, of course, of
the most stimulating dishes, such as oysters, caviare and
herring salad; while plenty of claret and Burgundy was
added to the supply of Rhenish. The morning was
passed in drinking, although, of course, with diminished
vigour, and in playing Landsknecht. The doors were,
however, locked by universal acclamation, and no one
allowed to leave the room. Dinner was served at four.
The band of music again resumed their places, and after
dinner the ceremony of the Landesvater was repeated.

Of course, no one present had become sober, as there
had been no intermission, but only a slight and temporary
diminution of the debauch since its commencement.

In Germany, the best and only remedy for having
been drunk over-night, seems to be to get drunk the
next morning. This is precept and practice at the universities,
and on this occasion it was certainly carried
out to the full.

On the termination of the Landesvater, the drinking
was desperately resumed. Bocales, holding a bottle,
were passed frequently round the hall, and each member
obliged to drink them at a draught. Again the hall
resounded with uproar and with song. Again the terrible
drunkenness reached its height, and the fiend of debauch
rose triumphant from his slight prostration. One
after another again dropped from their places, and were
kicked into the sepulchre; and one after another of the
revived supplied the places of the last departed.

The second morning appeared,—the second night had
been passed like the first,—and at the third dinner, almost
all the original revellers, haggard, and ghastly, and
drunk, resumed their original seats. The Landesvater
was repeated for the third and last time. Bocales, larger
than ever, went the rounds, and all seemed to make a
furious effort to terminate the carousal in a manner
worthy of its commencement. The quantity of wine
that was drunk was truly frightful. If I should mention
the quantities of bottles that I knew were emptied, my
statistics would be discredited. At half-past twelve
o'clock on the third night, there were but few remaining
at the table. Among them were fox Rabenmark, Trump
Von Toggenburg Pappenheim, Lackland, and myself.
Besides these, were perhaps twenty others.

“A health to the future plenipotentiary!” cried Rabenmark
to Pappenheim, draining off a large goblet.

It was answered by Pappenheim.

“I wish I had been a soldier instead of a diplomatist,”
said he, when he had finished his goblet.

“I would not be a soldier while there were such scoundrels
in the army as I know,” said Klingspohr, a young
man whose brother had been broken in the army owing
to the severity of some representations made by Count
Wallenstein, who was a great enemy to the whole family.

“I think our army a very respectable body — I know
of no scoundrels in it. Name one,” said Rabenmark.

“Count Wallenstein!” said Klingspohr unhesitatingly,
for he knew nothing of Rabenmark's interest in that
family.

“Wallenstein—Wallenstein!” cried the fox, starting
to his feet. “Retract that, Sir—retract—or by the God
of Heaven”—

“Hey-day, hey-day!” interrupted Klingspohr, “what
the devil do you mean, Mr. Von Rabenmark? Retract!
—what? Who instituted you champion of the Commandant?
Retract, indeed! I tell you that you are
grown insolent since your accidental success with Kopp
and Fizzelberg. You need a little wholesome correction.
Retract!—psha! I tell you, Count Wallenstein is a
base, cowardly, detracting, tyrannical scoundrel; and if
he were here I would tell him so myself. Now, make
the best you can of it, Mr. Fox Rabenmark.”

Rabenmark was furious. Although he knew full well
that the Commandant was no friend of his, yet an aspersion
of the fame of his beloved's father was more
than he could bear. Klingspohr was seated nearly opposite
to him. He hardly concluded his sentence, before

the fox sprang across the table, and levelled a blow at
his head. He staggered—fell but rose again immediately.
He collected himself, and sat down. German gentlemen
never fight without weapons. An occasional blow like
that given by Rabenmark sometimes happens on great
provocation; but an interchange of fisticuffs is unheard
of.

“This is no common insult, Rabenmark,” he said in
a tone of forced calmness, “and I swear to you that it
shall be avenged in no common manner. But enough
for the present; we shall have time enough to-morrow.”

“And I swear to you, on my word of honour,” said Rabenmark,
“that when we do meet one of us at least shall
be carried from the place.”

I have observed a praiseworthy custom among the
Germans. The word of honour is never given in sport
or on slight occasions. It is rarely used, and hten it is
regarded as a pledge of absolute holiness and solemnity.
I felt certain that before to-morrow night either Klingsphr
or Rabenmark would be a corpse.

This quarrel, with one or two more that had taken
place, had cast a gloom over the assembly. The merriment
gradually subsided, and exhaustion and ennui
succeeded

The third morning shone in upon us at last, and I
think I never saw a more wretched and dissolute-looking
set of youths in all my experience. All were more or
less drunk, and all wearied and exhausted. Those who
at the breaking up of the party were still in the Todtenkammer,
were left to their fate, and the rest staggered
blindly through the streets to their respective dwellings.

Lackland and I had lately taken lodgings together in
the same house, whither we mutually piloted ourselves,
and as soon as we reached home, we hastened to our
beds to recruit our exhausted frames.