Chapter 7

CHAPTER VII [How Bismark Fought]

In addition to the corps laws, there are some corps usages which have
the force of laws.

Perhaps the president of a corps notices that one of the membership who
is no longer an exempt--that is a freshman--has remained a sophomore
some little time without volunteering to fight; some day, the president,
instead of calling for volunteers, will APPOINT this sophomore
to measure swords with a student of another corps; he is free to
decline--everybody says so--there is no compulsion. This is all
true--but I have not heard of any student who DID decline; to decline
and still remain in the corps would make him unpleasantly conspicuous,
and properly so, since he knew, when he joined, that his main
business, as a member, would be to fight. No, there is no law against
declining--except the law of custom, which is confessedly stronger than
written law, everywhere.

The ten men whose duels I had witnessed did not go away when their hurts
were dressed, as I had supposed they would, but came back, one after
another, as soon as they were free of the surgeon, and mingled with the
assemblage in the dueling-room. The white-cap student who won the second
fight witnessed the remaining three, and talked with us during the
intermissions. He could not talk very well, because his opponent's sword
had cut his under-lip in two, and then the surgeon had sewed it together
and overlaid it with a profusion of white plaster patches; neither could
he eat easily, still he contrived to accomplish a slow and troublesome
luncheon while the last duel was preparing. The man who was the worst
hurt of all played chess while waiting to see this engagement. A good
part of his face was covered with patches and bandages, and all the
rest of his head was covered and concealed by them. It is said that the
student likes to appear on the street and in other public places in
this kind of array, and that this predilection often keeps him out when
exposure to rain or sun is a positive danger for him. Newly bandaged
students are a very common spectacle in the public gardens of
Heidelberg. It is also said that the student is glad to get wounds in
the face, because the scars they leave will show so well there; and it
is also said that these face wounds are so prized that youths have even
been known to pull them apart from time to time and put red wine in them
to make them heal badly and leave as ugly a scar as possible. It
does not look reasonable, but it is roundly asserted and maintained,
nevertheless; I am sure of one thing--scars are plenty enough in
Germany, among the young men; and very grim ones they are, too.
They crisscross the face in angry red welts, and are permanent and
ineffaceable. Some of these