There was little quiet in the lower town, especially in the
locality of the university. Old Stuler's was filled with smoke,
students and tumult. Ill feeling ran high. There were many
damaged heads, for the cuirassiers had not been niggard with
their sabers.
A student walked backward and forward on the stage, waving
wildly with his hands to command attention. It was some time
before he succeeded.
"Fellow-students, brothers of freedom and comrades," he began.
"All this must come to an end, and that at once. Our personal
liberty is endangered. Our rights are being trodden under foot.
Our ancient privileges are being laughed at. It must end." This
declaration was greeted by shouts, sundry clattering of pewter
lids and noisy rappings of earthenware on the tables. "Have we
no rights as students? Must we give way to a handful of beggarly
mercenaries? Must we submit to the outlawing of our customs and
observances? What! We must not parade because the king does not
like to be disturbed? And who are the cuirassiers?" Nobody
answered. Nobody was expected to answer. "They are Frenchmen of
hated memory--Swiss, Prussians, with Austrian officers.
Pages:
257
258
259
260
261
262
263
264
265
266
267
268
269
270
271
272
273
274
275
276
277
278
279
280
281