The Student-Life of Germany

by William Howitt

NEW YEAR'S EVE CONTINUED.--UNIVERSITY STORIES.--VON PLAUEN.

Hoffmann.--I will now, for a change, give some passages from the life and deeds of a hero, whom, were I a Zachariä, I would celebrate in a no less magnificent epic than he has done the exploits of his Renommist. The Herr von Plauen, to whom I allude, studied for more than ten years here, and enacted more mad pranks than the whole united university besides would have been able to do. He was a little, broad-set fellow, of prepossessing exterior and expressive countenance, who stood particularly well with the ladies. His uncommon strength; his accomplishment in all bodily exercises; his overflowing humour continually gushing forth in witty conceits, procured him a constant good reception in the student world, and in the social circles of the city; and he long played in his Chore, as well as in the ball-room, a distinguished part, till his total sacrifice of character, and his really reprehensible actions, which were all alike to him so long as they carried him to his object, completed his ruin. By his strength he frequently put to shame the travelling Hercules who exhibit their powers for money; since, poising himself on a perpendicular pole, he would stretch himself out horizontally, so as to form a right angle with the pole, and at his pleasure, could double up strong silver coins. In the gymnastic ground, which yet existed, no one could stand against him; and in the fencing-school he beat down every one's guard. As he once travelled in the Upper-Rhine country without a passport, and a gendarme on horseback, would have detained him, he threw both the man and his horse into the ditch by the roadside, and so left them. He was especially expert in the then so-much-liked shooting of geese, and thus made many a Philistine the poorer. Understand me right, Mr. Traveller; to shoot, in studenten phrase, means to abstract without yet doing any thing unjust or contrary to honour; since, especially in the olden times, this was a student custom. Small things, as penknives, sticks, etc., if they were not dedicated, were shootable. One might take them from another, and with the words--"This is shot," he took possession of them. It may easily be conceived that it was only the elder students who indulged themselves in this practice against the Foxes, and no one could secure himself from this Spartan plundering but by instantly declaring a thing, which another seemed to have a design upon,--unshootable.

Von Kronen.--This expression dates itself from the practices of the schools of the fifteenth century. As then the teacher, with his helpers, was only engaged by the inhabitants of a place there for a year or so; so if the parties disagreed, the master, with his assistants, to whom generally a number of boys added themselves, proceeded from land to land, and supported themselves with alms, with singing before the houses, and with all manner of petty plunderings. The scholars, who stood expressly under the protection of the assistants, must deliver to them geese, ducks, hens, and the like, which they became very expert in carrying off from the villages, and which, in their language, they termed shooting.

Hoffmann.--I have never before heard of this custom of antiquity. It is a pity that so beautiful a practice is become obsolete, or I could, as a musician, make most profitable use of it.

Freisleben:--

Friends beloved! there were finer times once
Than are these times--that must be conceded,--
And a nobler people lived ere we did.

Hoffmann.--But to come back to our story. Herr von Plauen possessed a more admirable dexterity in shooting than any of the schoolboys just referred to could possibly have; and no wonder,--as they were only schoolboys, and he was a student. Plenty of stories are related of him; how he twisted the neck of many a living goose, and popped them under his cloak; how with ladder and hook, he brought many a plucked goose down from the lofty store-room; yes, and how he came most easily at one ready stuffed and roasted.

On Holy St. Nicholas's-day, a worthy citizen of the place, whose little son also was called Nicholas, prepared a feast for some guests, the chief ornament of which was a goose, as fine as ever gabbled and screamed in the Pfalz. The goose was carried up; the guests had not, however, yet made their appearance, but the little son was impatient, and howling and crying desired a slice from the goose. The father strove in vain to quiet him; he howled and cried on. "Then," said the old man, "I will give the goose to the Pelznickel." (In our country there goes from house to house, on St. Nicholas's-day, fellows in disguise, who inquire into the past behaviour of the children, and give to the good ones apples, nuts, and little cakes, but warn the bad and threaten them with the rod. These disguised personages are styled Pelznickel.) With the word the old man set the dish with the goose in it on the outside of the window! This frightened the little one; he promised to be quiet if the father would take the goose in again; whereupon the father reached the dish in again, but to his astounding, the goose was gone! It was already rapidly on its way to the city of Dusseldorf, (a Wirthshaus in Heidelberg), where the Herr von Plauen and his companions found it smack right delectably with their red wine.

A similar passage once befell our hero in the village Schlangenbach, where he was for a long time the guest of the Amtmann. They both, he and the Amtmann, who had himself been a lusty student, made a call on the Frau Pfarrerin, the parson's lady. They talked of this and that; of husbandry, and of poultry and geese. "Ay," said the parson's lady, "I have a goose hanging above; you may match it if you can. But with what care and labour have I fed it myself; and stuffed it myself with the best Indian corn that was to be got. But, gentlemen, you shall judge for yourselves. I invite you next Sunday to discuss this famous goose."

"And yet," said Plauen, "I will wager that the Amtmann has one that is quite as good."

"Impossible!" exclaimed the Frau Pfarrerin.

"Amtmann," rejoined Plauen, "you won't admit that! I challenge you to invite the Frau Pfarrerin and her husband to-morrow, Saturday, also to eat a goose, and we will afterwards see which goose is the best."

"Done!" said the Amtmann.

"We'll see!" said the parson's lady.

The residence of the plucked goose was soon ascertained by the two. It was up in the chamber in the roof, where it hung, and made many ornamental swings and gyrations in the wind that blew through the dormant windows. It was a ravishing sight, which the world only was allowed to enjoy for this one day. It was brought away in the night, and the next day at noon, most deliciously dressed, was served up before the invited guests.

"Now, how does the goose please you, Herr Pfarrer?" asked Plauen.

"My husband understands nothing of the matter," interposed the Frau Pfarrerin, "but I tell you the goose is good, but mine is much better. You shall convince yourselves; that I promise you."

Alas! the Frau Pfarrerin was not able to keep her word; for on the morrow she became aware, to her horror, that her plucked goose had taken a greater flight than it had ever done while it was yet unplucked. She was excessively annoyed; and to propitiate her, the waggish companions sent her a handsome cotton dress. On the package was inscribed--"A dressing for the goose." The good woman was completely conciliated, and highly delighted; but her husband thought that the words would bear more than one construction.

Freisleben:--

The Pfarrer's wits were sharp and sound,
So let us all drink to him round. (They drink.)

Hoffmann continued.--Another time, in a cold winter, he put, one night, the figure of Hercules, which adorns the Brunnen in the market-place, a shirt on, much to the bewonderment of the market people when they arrived in the place the next morning. Another time, as it was the fair, the students, at his suggestion, got all the strolling organists together in the fair, who each kept on playing a different tune, which, with the accompaniment of the barking of their assembled dogs, produced the most astounding effect.

I must relate yet another of his tricks, which, however, he played off in another university city directly before he came to Heidelberg. An innocent youth, who was just come raw from the school, recognised in Herr von Plauen a countryman, and begged of him, as he would go away the next day, that he would accompany him to one of the professors, in order to enter himself as an attendant of his lectures, as he really did not know how it was proper to conduct himself on such an occasion.

"With pleasure," answered Von Plauen, gave the Fox at once his arm, and conducted him to one of the professors, who was completely deaf. As they entered the room, the rogue presented the new-comer, with the words,--"Here, thou old Philistine! I bring thee a young gentleman who will do thee the favour to listen to thy lectures. Take care, however, that thou art not too tedious with him, for he is my friend."

The startled Fox seemed to have dropped at once out of the clouds as he heard his friend speak in this manner, and his astonishment mounted to its height as he heard him again say, as he took his leave--"Farewell, old Camel!" which salutation the professor answered with a very gracious bow.

"But for God's sake, then," asked the Fox, "may one then speak in this manner to a professor of the university?"

"So, and no otherwise," replied he, "must you address them all; they are accustomed to nothing else; and moreover, they soon lose all respect for him who does not cock his thumb a little at them. Besides this, I have been particularly civil to-day, that I might not astonish thee too much, as is the case generally with youths when they first come from the school. But thou wilt quickly acquire the proper tone."

"O! if it comes to that," said the Fox, "I'll soon be ready for the gentlemen."

Von Plauen laughed in his fist as he rode forth the next morning through the city-gate; and he soon learnt by letters that his protégé, in proceeding to enter himself with the next professor, whom he addressed in the same style, was speedily sent head foremost down the steps, as he had unluckily happened to come across a professor who not only had an excellent pair of ears, but a very fiery temper.

Some pranks which our hero permitted himself afterwards, laid the commencement of his fall. Once he feigned himself delirious, raged and cried out, for no purpose, but to have the pleasure of spitting in the face of the physician who was called in, having, as it is asserted by some, betted a considerable wager on this point.

He spared the fair sex as little in his wild conceits; which were not, however, always very graciously received. He asked permission from one lady in the open street to be allowed to light his pipe at her eyes. Another time, a carriage, in which were some ladies setting out to the ball, being drawn up across a narrow street, up which he was coming, he opened the door, sprung in, and out at the other door, followed by all his companions in succession, about twenty in number. Once he went with his acquaintance to walk in the Heidelberg Castle. It began to rain heavily, and the mistress of a ladies' school, with her pupils, had taken refuge in the so-called Octagonal House, on the terrace, which was then not completely closed, and had only one entrance. This the wild troop beset, and refused egress to the young ladies, except on the condition that each student should be favoured with a kiss from one of the ladies. The ladies heard the proposal with horror, and long held out siege in the little building; but as night was fast approaching, and not a soul appeared within view, or hearing, on account of the bad weather, they were at length compelled by necessity to accept the horrid condition, and were then conducted safely home by the wilful students. By this exploit, however, Von Plauen, sunk dreadfully in credit with the world of beauty, as he was well known and immediately recognised.

Finally, our hero was counselled or ordered to withdraw himself, for a stated period, from the university on account of his repeated duels, and concluded with himself to pass the half-year of his exile in the Hessian Neckarsteinach. As he was intending to withdraw without paying his debts, he found that his testimonial was taken possession of by his landlady: for Mr. Traveller, you are perhaps aware, that if a creditor fears that a student meditates quitting the university without satisfying his just claims, he lays before the Amtmann of the university the amount of his bill, and the exit-testimonial, without which a student cannot be admitted to another university, is refused him till he has discharged his debts. Plauen immediately procured all the Hellers (each in value of the twelfth of a penny English, or two hundred and forty to the gulden, or twenty-pence English) that the place afforded, and sent them, to the whole amount of his debt, to the poor landlady in a bag, which, of so small a coin, were so many as took her several days to count them out.

On a fine spring day he was, to every one's astonishment, seen dressed as for a festival, leading in a rich silk riband, a lamb gaily adorned with flowers, along the banks of the Neckar. To those who wondered at his proceedings, he said that this was the custom of his Fatherland on that particular day. So went he on to Ziegelhausen, where he spent the night, and where he was the better entertained at the Wirthshaus, because he had attracted many people into the house by this unusual spectacle. The next morning he made a present of his lamb, which, however, was speedily reclaimed by its real owner, from whom Plauen had "shot" it; and then betook himself to Neckarsteinach. Here he played the pious Catholic. On Corpus Christi day, when the Catholics parade in solemn procession round the town, singing and praying, and say mass at certain altars which are erected in the open air, he followed the priest, himself clothed for the occasion, and carried the train of his robe. Soon afterwards he showed every where a letter sealed with black, which he professed to contain the intelligence of his mother's death. Every one took the deepest interest in his apparently deep-felt grief, and the more so as he caused masses to be said in all the churches whose priests he had before so much flattered. His mother, however, lived long afterwards, and the whole was only invented on purpose to have the masses said. Equally false was a later assertion, that he had received information that they had appointed him a canon in his Fatherland; and from that time he went about the little place in full costume, and carrying a cross.

When the period of his banishment was completed, he returned to the city on a day in the evening of which there was to be a ball. An officer who was a countryman of his, then resided in Heidelberg, and had frequently visited him in Neckarsteinach. He hastened to his house, and then found that he was absent on a journey. As an old acquaintance, he ordered his rooms to be opened, managed easily to open his commode, and to draw out a new uniform of the officer's. Into this, which was indeed much too tight for him, he forced himself, and appeared in it that evening at the ball, where he told the people one lie upon another, of his having succeeded to this new post of honour. He looked, however, comical enough in the uniform, which was so narrow that when his partner in the dance let fall her rosette, he was not able to stoop to pick it up for her.

Von Plauen soon found again a swarm of acquaintance, and again played over his old tricks. One of his acquaintances received from his native town, which was somewhere not very far distant, a large and most famous cheese, and a hamper of good wine. The others soon got wind of it, and wanted to persuade him to make a merriment over these things. But he assured them that he could not touch a single thing of them, as he expected an immediate visit from his family. His father, he said, had written him that he yet hoped to eat of the cheese with him, and to drink a glass of the wine with him; and on that account he should leave every thing untouched till they arrived.

They pressed him no farther, but one day at noon, as the lawless set knew that he was fast at his lecture in the college, they rushed into his chamber, drank the wine, and filled the bottles with water; and the cheese they scooped so skilfully out from beneath, that nothing but the outward rind remained standing. They set it again in the dish so that nothing was to be seen. It may be imagined what was the poor fellow's dismay as he set the cheese before his newly-arrived relations, and saw it, at the first cut, fall into mere fragments of peel; and what a face the old man made as he came to taste of that flat water instead of his famous Rhine-wine.

Soon afterwards, the student thus treated, missed a sum of money, of some three hundred gulden, which had been remitted him in order to defray the expenses contingent on the taking of his doctoral examination. Von Plauen, who had spent the night with him shortly before the theft was discovered, fell under strong suspicion, more especially, as, at the same time, he was accused of forging bills of exchange. He was thrown into the university prison, and his examination begun. But he did not await his sentence. One evening, as he knew that the fat beadle to whom the care of the prison was entrusted, remained alone in the house, he tore the lock from the door with his hands and hastened down into the beadle's room. The beadle had the keys belonging to the different rooms in the house, just then in his hand,--"How came you here, Herr von Plauen?" demanded he. The prisoner seized a knife that lay on the table, and warned him that if he did not deliver up to him the keys, he would stick the knife into his fat paunch. The terrified man instantly surrendered the keys; the prisoner shut him in his own room, secured him, and escaped from the house. He hastened over the bridge. There he threw himself over the gate, which then was closed every evening; but he stepped up to the window of the gatekeeper, knocked, and laid down a kreutzer, saying, "I will cheat no man of his money."

He was pursued, but without avail; and various reports are in circulation concerning his latter fortunes. Some say that he became a fencing-master in England, and yet lives there; others, that he continually gave himself more and more to drinking, and finally died in the hospital of a great German city, where, in the last hour, he called for a choppin of beer, and drank it o

Freisleben.--So let us, in a better liquor, wish that he had left a better memory. His tricks, if they were not always the best, have at least served to amuse us; and so may it go well with him in the other world, where, as his deeds certainly could not conduct him upwards, let us hope, though somewhat against hope, that a deep and final repentance prevented his going inevitably downwards.

They touch glasses.