DRINKING CUSTOMS OF STUDENT LIFE, ANCIENT AND MODERN.
Seize the glittering wine-cup there!
See ye not, no purply winking,
Blood of nature, rich and rare?
Let us grasp it, boldly drinking,
That a fire-strength may glow
Through each vein--a new creation!
Sacred is of wine the flow--
Is of youth the glad elation!
Uhland.
Have the gods drunk nectar!--the gods, exempt from all the cares of mortal existence, and shall then poor mankind be envied the enjoyment of their earthly nectar? No; not without cause was it celebrated by all the ancient poets. Even the great Reformer himself joined in its praise; and Horace says--
Narratur et prisci Catonis,
Sæpe mero caluisse virtus.
Then come the moralists truly and say, "You should not purposely throw yourselves into an artificial gladness; the true gladness comes from within." Very true; and the genuine healing of sickness comes from within, and you shall and cannot subdue it by art? It is therefore that the Turks believe that you ought not to assist nature in her marvellous operations by a healing means. If that be your faith, do as the Turks do, and drink no wine. But have we not thus a thousand things which are to a certain degree necessary to our well-being, necessary to preserve the proper tone of mind and body? And would you blindly condemn all these? Wherefore then do you imagine that wine was made? Would you banish all poetry out of life, and say
Who then would cheat himself with phantom shapes,
That with a borrowed charm do clothe existence,
And with a false possession follow Hope?
Schiller.
Will you do that? Then, indeed, must you banish wine; for it is, so to say, an incarnate poetry. For if it were not that, it were nothing to us; and to whomsoever it is not that, him counsel we to refrain, and to hand it over to other and happier mortals. But think well on it ere you banish all poetry out of the world.
The roseate-tinted veil of dreams
Falls from Life's countenance of pallid gloom,
And the world showeth as it is--a tomb.
Schiller.
Who, then, would wish to live in such a world? No; we value the wine which calls forth the poetry of the inner man of him who is not totally abandoned of the Muses. But you, perhaps, reprobate the enjoyment of wine as too ignoble and material. But is it then the material portion of the wine which confers on us its witchcraft? No; it is the fine spirit, and that ethereal life which the German calls the flower of the wine. They ascend to the exhausted brain, and brace the relaxed chords. Know you then whether the strength which gives to life poetry and fresh grace, may not be one and the same? Whether the strength which is here bound to the material substratum, be not the same which there seizes thee mightily in the creations of Shakspeare? whether it be not the same which lives in the accord of the violoncello; whether it be not the same which dwells so entrancingly in the voice of the beloved? Yes, the spirits of the wine are related to others; and when they discover their brothers in the breasts of men, so combine they vigorously, and bursting their bonds, rush forth into active operation. All those noble feelings which had long, perhaps, by their possessor, who had experienced the bitter deceits of life, been beaten down and slept in obscurity--now, touched by the magic wand of wine, start again from their tomb. But when the spirits of the wine find there only strange and ignoble associates, then raise they with them a fierce conflict, in order from such guests of hell to free man; whose difference from all other beings, says Goethe, consists in this--that he be noble, helpful, and good! Therefore despise not wine, which is capable of accomplishing such rare ends, which can raise phantasies such as were dreamed in the Rathskeller at Bremen.[[36]] No; we acknowledge the wisdom of him who gave the wine to mankind, and of the good old patriarch who so thankfully received it.
[OLD NOAH.]
Noah from the ark had got,
The Lord came to him on the spot;
He smelt his offering in the wind,
And said to thee I will be kind.
And since a pious house thou art,
Thyself shall name the gracious part.
Then Noah answered, as he stood,
"Dear Lord, this water smacks not good.
Therefore I, poor old man, would fain
Some different kind of drink obtain,
Since that there hath been drowned therein
All sinful beasts, and men of sin."
To Paradise, God stretched his hand,
And gave him thence a vine-stock grand;
He gave him counsel good and right,
Said, "Tend thou this with all thy might."
He him instructed,--so, and so,--
Till Noah's joy no bounds did know.
Both wife and child did Noah call,
His servants and his house-folks all.
He planted vineyards all about--
For, trust me, Noah was no lout;
Built cellars then, and pressed the wine,
And tunned it into hogsheads fine.
Old Noah was a pious man;
Soon to a row his barrels ran.
To God's high praise he drained each cask,
Nor deemed it, faith, a heavy task.
He drank, thereafter, as appears,
Three hundred yet and fifty years.
A knowing man thence see it will,
That wine well used, can do no ill.
And farther,--that no Christian more
Into his wine will water pour,--
Because there hath been drowned therein,
All sinful beasts, and men of sin.
The Germans never despised their cups. Tacitus, in his time, said of them--"To drink day and night brings disgrace to no one." Tacitus might, in truth, have said pretty much the same of his own people. If in the beginning they mixed their wine with water, this is not to be taken as the fact in an after period. Who does not recollect the son of Cicero, the most celebrated drinker of his time, with whose exploits in tippling scarcely the Germans could match themselves, stout drinkers as they were? It is well known that the ancient Germans transacted their most important affairs when they were elate with Bacchus, and reconsidered them, the next day, with a sober understanding. This custom they retained, in many places, during the Middle Ages, and this was the case in the free city of Bremen. Wine and song have maintained their standing in every true Brotherhood, and this still continues to be the practice in Germany. This ancient German custom then, least of all could be expected to be abandoned in Burschendom, and their songs are, for the most part, sung over the cup.
We may here find a place for some words of Schluck's persiflage on the Burschen-Comment.
"The songs which are sung by the Commerses are called Burschen songs, and besides the students, nobody may sing them--since they,
"1. Are only composed in honour of the studentship; and,
"2. Are chiefly composed in Latin, as the language belonging to the learned."
(This is no longer the case. Latin songs become daily rarer yet some still remain in use, as--Mihi est propositum.)
"Should a Knote dare to sing a student song, he is to be well cudgelled; not so much on account of the excellence of the song, as on account of the audacity of the Philistine, presuming to desecrate songs sacred to the students especially as it is impossible that he can have so much feeling as to appreciate the elegance and beauty of such songs."
As the occasions on which men sing are very different, it is natural that the contents of the songs should be so too. Some contain--
Firstly.--An incitement to joy. Amongst these I reckon "Up Brothers, let us joyful be;" or, an Exhortation to Friendship, as that bonne amitié song, with which a Commers is always opened, and whose object is solely to create a friendly feeling in the Old Burschen towards the Foxes.
Secondly.--Others are Freedom and Fatherland songs; amongst which, high above all, stands "The Landsfather."
Thirdly.--Songs which express the spirit and bravery of the students; as--"The Bursch of genuine Shot and Corn;" or "The Sword on my left side:" "Know ye the happy way to conquer;" "Brave 'tis 'neath the free blue Heaven," etc. One of these we may here give at length, as a
[PICTURE OF THE OLD-FASHIONED BURSCH.]
The Bursch of real shot and corn,
His courage still doth bloom;
On heavy boot the spur is worn,
From hat doth sway the plume.
The huge hat makes a gallant show,
With the sword cut through;[[37]]
It guards him more from thrust and blow,
Than were it sound and new.
The Bursch his ornament doth bear,
Which him such pleasure brings,
The sword which with a fearful air
Upon his left side swings.
As Bursch, when through the town he stirs,
Majestic in all eyes,
The sparks they lighten round his spurs,
And fire crossways flies.
What careth he, though hole there be,
Upon his elbow now;
The jolly Bursch remaineth he,
Before whom all must bow.
But wo to thee! if on his course
In perfumed garb thou rub;
He'll curse thee for Pomatum-horse,
And threaten with his club.
For friends still beats his heart so warm,
He feels their grief and care;
For them he wields his mighty arm,
Nor would his own life spare.
Whoever saw him shrink a-back,
Or do a coward deed?
Shame on him he would never take,
Though kingdoms were the meed.
They law how in the battle-shock
His flashing sword he drew;
They saw how from its sweep, like smoke,
The slaves before him flew.
Courage in danger and distress
Is aye the conquering plan:
Aye though all hell upon him press,
He'll show himself a man!
Hears he of Hermann's spirit proud,
Of his high deeds the fame,
His German blood warns him aloud--
"Be worthy of the name!"
He drinks the German vine-juice bright,
And German feels and great;
In his right arm dwells giant might,
And freedom's his estate.
Then live hoch! every German man
Who thinks and speaks as he;
But they who falsehood basely plan,
Extinguished may they be!
Weighs care upon his heart's repose,
He takes his pipe so dear,
And as the Knaster fumes and glows,
All troubles disappear.
He is a Bursch,---lives sans façon
Him all their friend may deem;
His heart is good, although we own
At times it different seem.
Fair maids he wishes free from wrongs,
With joy to their life's goal;
And lauds them still in all his songs,
With all his heart and soul.
See! though all glasses empty stand,
Full jugs to us appeal;
So send the wine from hand to hand,
And drink the Bursch's weal.
Already from the jug's full flood
To glass the wine doth flow,
And to our worthy Brotherhood,
We'll sound this hearty hoch!
Baden I call my Fatherland,
As life I prize its weal;
Therefore I wear the Baden Band,
And guard with hand and steel.
Fourthly.--Others are drinking songs; as "Crambambuli, that is the title;" or "When carousing I shall die;" "The year is good, the brown beer thrives;" "Bring me blood of noble vines;" "The dearest sweetheart that I have;" "I have throughout the forenoon long;" "I and my dear bottle;" "Now sing in dulci jubilo;" or that maiden song, in which the maiden is drunk for, while he who empties most measures is declared the conqueror, and entitled to marry the maiden; while the rest cry and chorus.
He's done it stout, he's done it stout,
So will he not be laughed right out.
And the maiden, who all the while is perfectly unconscious of these proceedings, and has given no consent to them, is declared to be won, and is pronounced to be the beloved of the victor. Ah, poor maiden! so wouldst thou, not out of love, but truly contrary to thy will, be thrown into the arms of a drunkard!
This maiden song is now, to the honour of the studentship, quite out of use; yet Zackariä describes such a scene as common in the days of his Renommist.
And therefore filled he with beer that mighty glass,
And drank it off the first unto that fair endearing---
A maiden yet whose name had scarcely met his hearing
He held in hand, as sceptre, the solid room-door key,
Thus acted he as chief, and to his realm gave he
A sacred law, unpausing the measured draught to end;
And oft his judge's arm let the heavy key descend.
Wo unto him who then this law as rebel brake,
When he that thunder-word pro pœna, to him spake.
Then must another measure his luckless throat o'erflow,
Or stood he in great danger the damsel to forego.
* * * * *
"But now, ye Brothers--hoch! and let Selinda live.
Vivat Selinda, hoch! with roughest throats now roar,
Vivat Selinda, hoch! cry mightily once more!
Shout for the third time--hoch!"--the very room did quiver,
And on the long wet table the glasses ring and shiver.
As in old Homer's story, upon the Trojan plain,
Mars, like ten thousand men, sent forth a cry of pain,
Till the whole army trembled, with rock, and hill, and valley,
So trembled now this chamber with this Studenten sally.
Then Torf her lovely countenance with such a beauty draws,
That each one swearing gave a thundering applause.
The Renommist then cried--who inly now grew warmer--
Here I myself do choose her--I choose her for my Charmer.
"The fiend thou dost!" said Torf, right loath to give her o'er,
But Raufbold straight defied him to twenty choppins more.
Torf yielded up the contest--strength did his hope betray,
And Leipsic's crown was thus far from the faint-heart drunk away.
The Renommist.
Certain songs belong to the conclusion of a Commers, or drinking meeting. With the last song, the glasses are turned upside down according to the old song, and the brother revellers, wish each other a good night.
I take my dear glass in my hand
And bear it to the Underland.
I fetch again my glass so dear,
And hold to th' right and to th' left ear.
My glass unto my mouth set I,
And drain it to the bottom dry.
The right thing to the glass do we,
What was above must under be.
The glass must walk the land O!
From one to th' other hand O!
He who in drinking or singing shoots a buck--that is, has broken the rule--must pro pœna, or in other words as a penalty, empty an extra choppin or two. He who often associates himself with a Commers, is called a Commers-brother.
Give us a prime good glass, so will our praise be ample,
Only be 't not too scant a sample;
For when on wine I must decide
With mouth right full I'd have it tried.
Goethe's Faust.
So thought the German students in earlier times, and so think they still. Drinking had reached a dreadful height in the Middle Ages, and many laws were passed, but in vain, to put a check on the madness. It was the same amongst the Burschen, who carried it to a most incredible extent. At the time that those students who were the best drinkers, were most regarded amongst their fellows in the universities, a Westphalian studying in Halle, made a visit to a countryman who was studying at Jena. The Jena student, to show his friend that he understood life, immediately on the first evening, called all his companions together, and they all drank to the welcome visiter so strongly in beer and wine, that on the following morning he had hardly slept off the effects of it before twelve o'clock. Scarcely had he dressed and despatched his dinner, when he was anew conducted to the drinking-place. Thus the revel continued for eight days in succession, when he travelled back to Halle. After his return he related many strange things of the mode of life of his countrymen in Jena, and always added--"Children,--it is very curious in Jena,--there is no forenoon there."
Such madness is now gone by; yet, ever and anon, there are students who might boldly challenge the gentlemen of the old school to a trial at toping, if they would rise out of their graves to it. Beer is the general beverage of the students, and as the best sorts of the same, as the Bavarian, and the formerly celebrated Heidelberg beer, are not strong, the health of the consumer, even in a long-continued course, is not injured by it, as it is in other universities, where, through the want of beer, wine and spirits are drunk. Beer, at the same time, is the cheapest liquor, and on that account is liked by the student not less than by the common man, amongst whom it is equally the custom to drink much. In one year, when the choppin (pint) of beer cost one-third of a penny, or, about half the usual price, a coachman achieved a most extraordinary feat in drinking. Some students promised to pay for a hundred choppins if he would drink it with only short intervals. He accepted the offer, and had all the hundred measures set in a row on a bench. He drank the first, walked slowly to the end of the hall and back, drank off the second, and so on till finding not another drop, he said quietly to the landlord--"So, now let me have just another choppin for my money."
The students drink generally beer at their Kneips, and if this is done in the open air, a large company is accustomed to pile up the emptied jugs into a pyramid.
Not by trophies, marbled over,
Will posterity discover
What we brothers here have done;
But of triumph our memorial,
These drained pitchers in their glory all,
Pile, a pyramid of fun!
Hauff.
At Commers, and on other festive occasions, are also frequently drunk wine, or ardent glee-wine and punch. It is a very ancient custom, amongst drinkers, that the glasses must be emptied after certain and manifold practices and prescriptions. Horace describes a similar wont in his time, where the drinkers are accustomed to elect a king, who presided on the occasion. Such rules are now become quite voluminous amongst the students, and are collected into their so-called Beer-Comment. This, therefore, contains the guiding laws of the Beer-Court. We will give this Beer-Comment at the end of the volume, as an example of the elaborate style into which this old and deep-rooted custom of German student-life has come to be carried out. Strange as it may appear to other nations, it is a custom in Germany, old as the universities themselves; and as our object is to probe to the very bottom of student-life, and give a full and faithful portraiture of it, those of our sober readers who may not think these very wise or commendable laws, may, having read the rest of the book, there close it, without perusing this Beer-Code. We also precede the account of the Commerses with a collection of all the phrases which the Germans employ to clothe in a tolerable garb of decorum that dreamy condition into which Bacchus frequently throws his votaries. These modes of expression were collected by Lichtenberg, and a few only have been added to them.
HIGH GERMAN | ||
| He scents wine He has got a shot He is shot through He has got a blow He has got a touch He has got a Jesuit He has got too much He is tipsy He is foggy He has got a saintish look He has a dizziness He is inspired He is full He takes a Bauer for an earth-bear His head is heavy He has dim eyes He is not right in the upper story He has glass eyes He rocks | He has something in the roof He is full and furious He has his load He has been in a good spot He has something in his head He has enough He has got a bag-wig He has drunk a glass too much He has pept into the glass too deep He is illuminated He staggers His tongue is too heavy He can't lift his tongue any more He floats He makes crosses | He is sated He saw wooden cans in heaven He is up to his throat full He has made himself a beard He goes in a flourish He is well blessed He is loaded awry He has made himself black His house is haunted He tacks about He can't keep his legs He is funny He is well drunk He has been present He is ready He is off He is away |
| He is happy He takes the sky a bass viol He sees the letters double He is as sick as heaven-hail He is dull and full He has followed his own fancy He is à tout He has daubed himself He has a rattle He has a ditto He has round feet He has leaned too far over He is star-blind thick He yearns after the brandy bottle He has lamed his tongue He is as full as a bagpipe He is lost He is covered He sees two suns He is thick as poodle-hail | He goes as if all houses were his He is totally away He sails with full sails He leans against a shutter He is poodle thick He has his tally He has his part He can't spit over his beard He makes a pas frisé He is thick He has had too much of a good thing He has been in his cups He has something in the top He is cat thick He has washed himself He has drammed himself He has done it pretty well He has taken good care of himself He has a giddiness He can scarcely stammer | He has Moses' tongue He is led about He is under the table He takes a church-spire for a toothpick He has armed himself with a sword He has sprinkled his nose He has endowed himself They have buried him He is hail-blind full He stares like a stuck calf He looks like a duck in thunder He is be-kneipt He is split He doesn't come home alone He brings Geiselbrecht with him He is a drunken swine He falls off He is in dulci jubilo He has chopped beyond the line He is tufted He cannot walk in the line |
In the Low German are some fifty other phrases on the same subject.