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    Chapter 6

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    Chapter 6
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    CHAPTER VI [A Sport that Sometimes Kills]

    The third duel was brief and bloody. The surgeon stopped it when he saw
    that one of the men had received such bad wounds that he could not fight
    longer without endangering his life.

    The fourth duel was a tremendous encounter; but at the end of five or
    six minutes the surgeon interfered once more: another man so severely
    hurt as to render it unsafe to add to his harms. I watched this
    engagement as I watched the others--with rapt interest and strong
    excitement, and with a shrink and a shudder for every blow that laid
    open a cheek or a forehead; and a conscious paling of my face when I
    occasionally saw a wound of a yet more shocking nature inflicted.
    My eyes were upon the loser of this duel when he got his last and
    vanquishing wound--it was in his face and it carried away his--but no
    matter, I must not enter into details. I had but a glance, and then
    turned quickly, but I would not have been looking at all if I had known
    what was coming. No, that is probably not true; one thinks he would not
    look if he knew what was coming, but the interest and the excitement are
    so powerful that they would doubtless conquer all other feelings; and
    so, under the fierce exhilaration of the clashing steel, he would yield
    and look after all. Sometimes spectators of these duels faint--and it
    does seem a very reasonable thing to do, too.

    Both parties to this fourth duel were badly hurt so much that the
    surgeon was at work upon them nearly or quite an hour--a fact which is
    suggestive. But this waiting interval was not wasted in idleness by
    the assembled students. It was past noon, therefore they ordered their
    landlord, downstairs, to send up hot beefsteaks, chickens, and such
    things, and these they ate, sitting comfortable at the several tables,
    whilst they chatted, disputed and laughed. The door to the surgeon's
    room stood open, meantime, but the cutting, sewing, splicing, and
    bandaging going on in there in plain view did not seem to disturb
    anyone's appetite. I went in and saw the surgeon labor awhile, but could
    not enjoy; it was much less trying to see the wounds given and received
    than to see them mended; the stir and turmoil, and the music of the
    steel, were wanting here--one's nerves were wrung by this grisly
    spectacle, whilst the duel's compensating pleasurable thrill was
    lacking.

    Finally the doctor finished, and the men who were to fight the closing
    battle of the day came forth. A good many dinners were not completed,
    yet, but no matter, they could be eaten cold, after the battle;
    therefore everybody crowded forth to see. This was not a love duel, but
    a "satisfaction" affair. These two students had quarreled, and were here
    to settle it. They did not belong to any of the corps, but they were
    furnished with weapons and armor, and permitted to fight here by the
    five corps as a courtesy. Evidently these two young men were unfamiliar
    with the dueling ceremonies, though they were not unfamiliar with the
    sword. When they were placed in position they thought it was time
    to begin--and then did begin, too, and with a most impetuous energy,
    without waiting for anybody to give the word. This vastly amused the
    spectators, and even broke down their studied and courtly gravity and
    surprised them into laughter. Of course the seconds struck up the swords
    and started the duel over again. At the word, the deluge of blows began,
    but before long the surgeon once more interfered--for the only reason
    which ever permits him to interfere--and the day's war was over. It was
    now two in the afternoon, and I had been present since half past nine in
    the morning. The field of battle was indeed a red one by this time;
    but some sawdust soon righted that. There had been one duel before I
    arrived. In it one of the men received many injuries, while the other
    one escaped without a scratch.

    I had seen the heads and faces of ten youths gashed in every direction
    by the keen two-edged blades, and yet had not seen a victim wince, nor
    heard a moan, or detected any fleeting expression which confessed the
    sharp pain the hurts were inflicting. This was good fortitude, indeed.
    Such endurance is to be expected in savages and prize-fighters, for they
    are born and educated to it; but to find it in such perfection in these
    gently bred and kindly natured young fellows is matter for surprise.
    It was not merely under the excitement of the sword-play that this
    fortitude was shown; it was shown in the surgeon's room where an
    uninspiring quiet reigned, and where there was no audience. The doctor's
    manipulations brought out neither grimaces nor moans. And in the fights
    it was observable that these lads hacked and slashed with the same
    tremendous spirit, after they were covered with streaming wounds, which
    they had shown in the beginning.

    The world in general looks upon the college duels as very farcical
    affairs: true, but considering that the college duel is fought by boys;
    that the swords are real swords; and that the head and face are exposed,
    it seems to me that it is a farce which had quite a grave side to it.
    People laugh at it mainly because they think the student is so covered
    up with armor that he cannot be hurt. But it is not so; his eyes are
    ears are protected, but the rest of his face and head are bare. He
    can not only be badly wounded, but his life is in danger; and he would
    sometimes lose it but for the interference of the surgeon. It is
    not intended that his life shall be endangered. Fatal accidents are
    possible, however. For instance, the student's sword may break, and the
    end of it fly up behind his antagonist's ear and cut an artery which
    could not be reached if the sword remained whole. This has happened,
    sometimes, and death has resulted on the spot. Formerly the student's
    armpits were not protected--and at that time the swords were pointed,
    whereas they are blunt, now; so an artery in the armpit was sometimes
    cut, and death followed. Then in the days of sharp-pointed swords, a
    spectator was an occasional victim--the end of a broken sword flew five
    or ten feet and buried itself in his neck or his heart, and death ensued
    instantly. The student duels in Germany occasion two or three deaths
    every year, now, but this arises only from the carelessness of the
    wounded men; they eat or drink imprudently, or commit excesses in the
    way of overexertion; inflammation sets in and gets such a headway that
    it cannot be arrested. Indeed, there is blood and pain and danger
    enough about the college duel to entitle it to a considerable degree of
    respect.

    All the customs, all the laws, all the details, pertaining to the
    student duel are quaint and naive. The grave, precise, and courtly
    ceremony with which the thing is conducted, invests it with a sort of
    antique charm.

    This dignity and these knightly graces suggest the tournament, not the
    prize-fight. The laws are as curious as they are strict. For instance,
    the duelist may step forward from the line he is placed upon, if he
    chooses, but never back of it. If he steps back of it, or even leans
    back, it is considered that he did it to avoid a blow or contrive an
    advantage; so he is dismissed from his corps in disgrace. It would seem
    natural to step from under a descending sword unconsciously, and against
    one's will and intent--yet this unconsciousness is not allowed. Again:
    if under the sudden anguish of a wound the receiver of it makes a
    grimace, he falls some degrees in the estimation of his fellows; his
    corps are ashamed of him: they call him "hare foot," which is the German
    equivalent for chicken-hearted.
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