Bands on Parade

 
A long time ago Americans used to love a parade. If there was a special occasion, a holiday, a visiting dignitary, or a society convention there was always a parade. And if people were going to march, there had to be a band to lead the procession.  

Town bands were a popular way of promoting a community's commercial and retail interests. A city parade was a moving concert that drew a crowd and gave merchants a chance to advertise their stores. 

The band's instruments were shiny and their uniforms were flashy. The music didn't have to be sophisticated to attract attention, just loud, brash and with a strong beat. 

In a small town the members of the band would be friends and neighbors that everyone knew. In the time before recorded music, before radio and motion pictures with sound , live music and parades were spectacles that everyone in a community wanted to see.

Today I present a set of postcards
featuring four bands on parade.

My first postcard is the only true photograph in this cavalcade of parades. It shows a brass band (with one or two clarinets) of about 15, all men with a few young boys, set up in a simple marching formation on a dirt street. They wear white shirts and ties with a few in suit coats. It looks like a warm summer day. In the background is a long block of shops with a sizeable number of people hidden under the shop awnings that cover the sidewalk. 

This postcard was sent from Clearfield, Iowa on 22 June 1907 to Ralph Jarvis of Jolley, Iowa. Clearfield is in southwest Iowa near the state's border with Missouri. 1900 was when it had its peak population of 698 but in 2020 that number has declined to just 278. Jolley, Iowa is in central Iowa, about 140 miles north of Clearfield, and it reached its height in 1920 with 300 residents. Today its population is just 28. 

Do you know
this place

Mamma

Clearfield, Iowa
Broadway St. 
Source: Google Maps 2021

The current 2021 Google streetview of Clearfield's Main Street, now called Broadway, shows the block with a recognizable frontage that retains the distinctive arch and hourglass brickwork seen in the 1907 photo. The shop awnings are gone and most of the retail ships look closed but Clearfield's post office occupies one of the old spaces in the block. It doesn't convey any sense of being as prosperous a place as it did in 1907.

* * *

The next postcard is of a parade with a band leading a line of marchers. The illustration was probably copied from a photo and then colorized on a half-tone print. A caption reads: 2nd Street Crookston, Minn. A large building on the street corner behind the band looks like a hotel. A clothing store is on the opposite side.

Crookston is in northwest Minnesota near the border with North Dakota and located in the vast Red River Valley. In 1910 it was a thriving city with 7,559 citizens, very close to its present population of 7,323. 

This card was sent on 6 February 1912 to Sister Nora Ambroson of North Leavitt St. in Chicago, Illinois. The address is on a block that is now a large modern hospital complex, but in 1912 it was near the location of Saint Mary of Nazareth Hospital. This small hospital was established in 1894 by the Sisters of the Holy Family of Nazareth to serve Chicago's Polish community. I believe the writer is a former nurse sister at the hospital who has moved to Crookston. Reading between the lines she sounds a bit lonesome.

Crookston  2/ 6/ 12
Dear Sister:
How are you
and all the others on
first floor?  Have you
been very busy since
I left.  I have not had
a word from any one
at home yet since I left
so I hope you will write
if you have any time.
Greet all from me. I am feeling (top)
fine and having a good
time up here.  Who are
working with you now?
Greet All & write soon.   Sr. Hanna.

Crookston, Minnesota, W 2nd St and Main
Source: Google Maps 2008

The Crookston streetview of 2008 on the corner of West 2nd Street and Main shows the tall hotel building with the same window arrangement. Though the image is grainy the building looks like it was restored. But the Google time machine plays a magician's trick because as soon as you cross Main street the structure suddenly vanishes as you jump four years into the future from 2008 to 2012. Sadly the old building has been demolished and turned into a parking lot.

  

* * *

Just a short march of 237 miles west of Crookston is Minot, North Dakota. In this colorized halftone photo 21 musicians are in parade position led by a drum major in a tall fur hat. They appear to be standing on a green football field, but I think this is an artistic license taken by the printer. Like the previous postcard this one was also printed in Germany where gigantic printing press factories churned out millions of cards for American orders. This was a common foreign business arrangement for US companies that in just a few years would be terminated by WW1. 

Minot is the county seat of Ward County, North Dakota in the north central region of the state. It saw it biggest growth between 1900 and 1910 when the population jumped 384.6% from 1,277 to 6,188 residents. However the postcard was sent on 10 July 1909 from Drake, North Dakota a small town 50 miles southeast of Minot. In 1910 its population was 348 citizens. Today it is a little less at 232. The card was addressed to Mrs. Gunda Dagfinrnd (?) of Malta, Montana, a city on the high plains of north central Montana. In 1910 it was bigger than Drake with 433 citizens and in the last century has actually grown to 1,860 with only a little decline since its height in the 1980s.

The writer on this card was H. Steen (?) who was Danish, I think, as the message is in that language and the first part translates as "I got here all right on Saturday morning and there was a lot to do here."  The handwriting style is too challenging for me to make out the remaining words.

Minot, North Dakota, Main St. and Central Ave.
Source: Google Maps, 2019

The three-story building behind the band was the Jacobson Opera House located at the corner of Main St and Central Avenue in Minot. The theatre was on the third floor and opened in January 1903 with seating for 800 patrons and a generous stage of 30 feet by 50 feet. It was an appropriate place to take a photo of the band since it's likely that some bandsmen played in the theater's orchestra too. In 1923 the Jacobson Opera House suffered the fate of many theaters in this era being destroyed in a fire. It was never rebuilt but the site was used in the 1960s for Minot's Taube Museum of Art. 

* * *

A similar postcard of a band was produced for the town of Wheaton, Minnesota. This parade has a band of about 13 musicians standing on a dirt street in front of a squad of men who may represent a fraternal society or other civic group. A few lines of adults and children watch from the sidewalk of a retail block. This is another colorized photo printed in Germany.

Wheaton is a small town in west central Minnesota on the border of South Dakota. In 1910 it boasted of a population of 1,300 which in a century has changed very little as today it has 1,426 residents. 

This card was sent on 24 August 1908 to Miss Hulda Hellenberg of Mishawaka, Illinois.

Dear Friend.
Arrived here all
O.K. and recieved (sic)
your postal and
was pleased to 
get it. Hoping you
are having a good time
as I am.
Mrs A Cordes

Wheaton, Minnesota, Broadway looking east
Source: Google Maps 2015

I was unable to find any of the buildings seen on the postcard in Google Maps streetview. Main Street is now called Broadway but most of the old buildings are no longer standing. Like most towns in the West and Midwest the streets are arranged in neat grids with a single main road for most of the retail and commercial businesses. This view looking east is my best guess. 

However I did find another postcard that is based on the identical photo but printed in gray tone by a company in New York City for the L. E. Baker & Co. A caption reads: 

Wheaton Band and Firemen
on Thanksgiving Day, Wheaton, Mi(nn) 

The postmark though is dated 26 September 1908, so this must be a parade from at least 1907, and possibly earlier.

Sept 25 1908
Dear Mother
It is Raining to
day I am well
and hope you are
the same
Yours
Geo Lane(?)

I hope it didn't rain on the firemen's parade.
Marching in mud is never fun.

This is my contribution to Sepia Saturday

where some people march to a different dog.

Music in Rutland, North Dakota

 
In 1910 a concert band of 22 musicians would be a modest musical ensemble for any large American city, but for a small town out on the great plains of the Midwest this was a band that a community could be proud of. And for the band of Rutland, North Dakota that admiration surely helped pay for their fancy snow white uniforms and caps. The bass drum advertises their location and offers a year, 1910, which was probably when the band was first established. 

The Rutland Band stands outside a house that is nicely embellished with "gingerbread" trim around the front porch. The group is a mix of younger men with a handful of boys in a typical wind band instrumentation of clarinets and saxophones (including one baritone sax player in a dark uniform, maybe a ringer from another town) with cornets, trombones, tubas and drums. One cornetist, possibly the oldest man of the group, stands at backrow center with epaulets and braided cord rosettes attached to his tunic which, I think, singles him out as the bandleader. 

Rutland is in Sargent County, North Dakota with an area of 0.38 square miles (0.98 km2). located in the southeast region of the state near the border with South Dakota. It calls itself a city even though its current population is just 162 residents but in 1910 it could boast of 224 citizens of which, it seems, 10% could play a musical instrument in the band. My guess, based on other similar postcard photos of town bands, is that this picture was taken a few years later than 1910, perhaps 1912-18. 

This postcard came from a dealer who offered a few other photo views of Rutland which I also acquired. After its band, I believe the townsfolk of Rutland took special pride in their public school.  

This handsome two-story structure with clapboard siding, faux columns, and rows of tall windows sits on a large lot that has no trees or adjacent building so it looks brand new to me. I would bet that its grand opening was an occasion for the Rutland Band to provide musical entertainment too. My estimate is that the school had at least four classrooms with maybe a head teacher's office, an assembly room, and a basement too. A large school bell sits left of the entrance. The photo is identified by a photographer's caption and above the center window is the name, Rutland inside the year 19_11. 

Rutland was, and still is, primarily a farming and ranching community though there was other work available with the Northern Pacific Railroad Company whose tracks pass next to the town. The streets of Rutland are neatly laid out east/west and north/south but in 1910 they were not paved. In that era most people used horse drawn wagons though apparently there were a few automobiles to attract  the attention of the town's children.

These images were cropped from a postcard marked by the photographer: Main Street, Rutland  N. Dak. Like the band's photo, these postcards were never posted and are unmarked. Though the town had a small population, Sargent County had 9,202 residents in 1910, a 52.4% increase from the census population in 1900, and very close to its peak number in 1920 of 9,655. The current population has declined to a third of that at 3,795. 

Despite the rustic road surface, the town looks active with several commercial shops along the street. The original photo has faded to a bleached coffee color, but through the magic of digital technology I was able to restore the contrast. 

I can't be absolutely certain of the camera's direction in the photo but there is a large building on the right, just beyond the automobile and the kids, that bears a resemblance to a building in present-day Rutland. Courtesy of Google Maps, here is a similar view looking north on Main Street, (now called 1st Street). The large building has a sign: RUTLAND, and is the location of the city offices.

Rutland, North Dakota, 1st Street, looking north
Source: Google Maps 2012

A second postcard shows a different view of Rutland's Main Street and the photo's contrast has been better preserved. On one side there is a two-story building, the First State Bank. Just next to it is Swiden's Pool Hall and a small hotel. Looking at the condition of the street surface you have to wonder at the Rutland Band's choice of white uniforms.

On the other side of the street are more retail/trade shops. One sign reads: Columbia Restaurant. Hanging over the broad street is an electric lamp which must have been a wonder for the older folks who remembered the town when it was first founded in 1887. It's also interesting to see a few trees along the street which were surely planted by the residents. 

The full view presents a broad boulevard which was common in Midwest towns out on the prairie, probably because the space favored horse-drawn wagons. A century later Rutland still has all its businesses along the same street and I found a building that matched the old bank. The siding and windows have been covered but the building's shape retains the same unusual sliced corner which was once its entrance. It is now the offices of an insurance broker. If I'm correct the large building on the right in the first photo is on the left in this photo just beyond the hotel. It looks like it is under construction as the windows are not installed. In the Google street view this corresponds to Rutland's 1st Street looking south.

Rutland, North Dakota, 1st Street, looking south
Source: Google Maps 2021

Recently the town of Rutland produced a promotional video for YouTube. A drone camera flies around the water tower to give us a bird's eye view of its city center.

Scattered around the fields beyond the town's streets are several small ponds. They are actually Prairie Potholes, the geological remains of the Wisconsin glaciation which ended about 10,000 years ago. This vast icesheet covered a region northward from Iowa, Minnesota, the Dakotas and into Canada's Manitoba, Saskatchewan, and Alberta provinces. As the ice melted it left shallow depressions called glacial potholes or kettle lakes. These holes fill with water in the spring and become temporary or semi-permanent wetlands, an important natural environment for migrating waterfowl and other native animal species and plants. The satellite view of Rutland gives a better idea of how these formations cover this region of North Dakota. The state has over 400 lakes but thousands and thousands of potholes. 

Satellite View of Rutland, North Dakota
Source: Google Maps

Every year on the first Sunday of October Rutland celebrates its Scandinavian heritage with Uffda Day when the city hosts various vendors, craft artists, a vintage car show and a dinner with Scandinavian specialties. And of course there is a parade. Here's another clever drone view of Uffda Day 2023. Uff da is "a Scandinavian exclamation or interjection used to express dismay, typically upon hearing bad news," frequently translated to "I am overwhelmed."

Finally the most famous thing that people of Rutland are proud of is that the city holds the Guinness world record for the largest hamburger. The burger weighed 3,591 pounds and was "cooked" on 26 June 1982 in a huge iron pan. A crowd of 8,000 to 10,000 people came see it prepared and share a taste of the giant burger. The skillet was erected in the city's recreation park to commemorate the event.

Frying Pan used for a world record hamburger
cooked in Rutland, North Dakota
26 June 1982
Source: Wikipedia

But what I want to know is,
did a band play for this giant hamburger cookout? 

What music would be appropriated for such a feast?
And did the Pride of the Prairies band
wear white uniforms? 

With so much ketchup and mustard? 

I expect not.

This is my contribution to Sepia Saturday

where everyone always looks both ways.

Music in a Time of War, the Street Edition

 

Once upon a time it was natural
to see free-range children on city streets and village byways.
Now it is rare except in third-world countries
where poverty drives kids to the streets, 
the only playground available to them.

One of the curious features of street scenes

in old photos or films from earlier times
is the number of young boys
who appear in urban settings
scattered around like so many sparrows.

In my collection of photos from the Great War of 1914–1918

small boys are occasional extras in certain scenes,
especially at band concerts performed in a town or village.
It's not that unusual since music has always been
a common way to gather a crowd.
But in some photos it is surprising
because the entertainment was provided
by a band of an enemy army. 

Usually the pictures of such concerts in occupied towns
show few if any local residents, much less children.
This is not surprising since any association with the enemy
carried risk from both the foreign forces
and the partisan resistance too.

Yet music was clearly a required part
of any military subjugation during WW1.
Did these bands play in order to restore the troops' morale?
Or were they attempting to sooth the tempers
 of the captive population?

Today I present four photos of street concerts
played by bands of the Imperial German Army
in towns captured during the Great War.

My first photo is captioned Musik auf dem Märkte Vouziers ~ Music at the Vouziers market. A military band is arranged into a circle on the left side of a cobblestone plaza. Surrounding them are several dozen soldiers and officers in German uniforms. The bandsmen wear formal pickelhaube helmets while the other soldiers are in fatigue dress. I don't believe there are any children or French civilians in this photo. Vouziers is a commune of the Ardennes department in northern France.  

The writer was a soldier using the free German military post and it is dated 17 January 1916. The postmark identifies his larger army unit as the 56th Infantry division and presumably this photo is  of one of the regimental bands. 

* * *

 

This next photo shows a typical German regimental band performing on a dirt road next to the gardens of a large building. There are about 36 bandsmen arranged in a semi-circle around their director while a small group of regular soldiers listen nearby. Again there are no children or civilians. Here the bandsmen are in standard uniforms with just flat brimless campaign caps.

The postcard was never sent but has a penciled note on the back with a date: Sept. 1917. The first word, Lümschweiler, was a challenge because though it seemed like a German place name there is no town with that name in Germany. Today this commune is known as Luemschwiller, but in 1917 it was actually part of Germany as it is located in the Alsace region of northeastern France which had been annexed by Germany after the Franco-Prussian War. That conflict, which was won by the North German Confederation led by the Prussian King Wilhelm I, only lasted 10 months but it became the prologue to World War One. The war also established the unified German Empire of which Wilhelm I became its first Kaiser. 

* * *

My third band concert is not a postcard but a photo print about 15cm x 11cm. Once again a large regimental band is arranged into a circle on a cobblestone street with a large crowd of soldiers, civilians, and many small boys around them. Each bandsman has a soldier holding their sheet music which seems to amuse some of them. 

This photograph was professionally produced and has a printed description on the back from the publisher Berliner Illustrations-Gesellschaft.

Sonntagsmusik in einer serbischen Ortschaft. 

No. 9185.  Eine deutsche Militärkapelle bringt ihrem

Hauptmann ein Ständchen vor sinem serbischen Quartier.

Dieses Bild wurde vom Stellvertretenden Generalstab IIb

Presse Abteilung vur Veröffenlichung freigegeben. Belegab (drücke)

wurden eingereicht. Veröffenlichungen  können ohne nochmalige

Zensur erfolgen. Der mit dem Zensurstempel versehene

Abdruck befindet sich in unsurem Besitz.

~ ~ ~

Sunday music in a Serbian town. 

No. 9185.  A German military band serenades their 

captain in front of his Serbian quarters.

This image was approved for publication by the Deputy General Staff IIb

Press Department. Press receipts have been submitted.

Publications can take place without further censorship.

The print with the censorship stamp is in our possession.

On 28 June 1914 six Bosnian-Serb terrorists assassinated Austrian Archduke Franz Ferdinand and his wife Sophie in Sarajevo. Their murder led Austria to declare war on Serbia which then triggered a complex sequence of political decisions that brought other nations into the war. Though Germany initially invaded Russia and then France, during the course of the war it also assisted the Austrian-Hungarian forces too. I think this photo was possibly taken in Serbian territory or in an ethnic Serb community of central Europe.

* * *

My last photo is again a band performing in a circle, this time with music stands. (A classic design that has never been improved on.) Several boys strike poses for the camera as the band plays.  

This postcard was sent on 2 November 1917 by a German soldier. He added a short line on the front of the card, but I'm unable to decipher the handwriting.

I don't think the writer refers to the location
of this little concert, but there is one clue in the background
that establishes a general region for this town. 

The sign over the entrance gate to a brick building
in the background behind the band reads:

GARÇONS ~ BOYS

I believe this French word indicates the photo was taken
near a school in either in France or possibly Belgium. 

German soldiers loading a 22cm Minenwerfer, WW1
Source: Wikimedia

The writer of the message on that last postcard included his unit, a Meinen Werfer Base, so that his family could correctly address a letter to him. This kind of platoon was trained to fire trench mortars called Minenwerfer or Mine Throwers in German. These weapons were used to bombard enemy positions and destroy defensive obstacles like barbed wire and bunkers. They were manufactured in various sizes and proved to be accurate and very effective. Larger artillery pieces required teams of horses to change position but a Minenwerfer had an uncomplicated mechanism that was lighter and easily moved by a few soldiers. The shells could be very large with devasting shrapnel or high explosives.

German soldiers moving a Minenwerfer, WW1
Source: Wikimedia

It happens that today 11 November 2023 marks the 105th anniversary of the end of World War One. Originally called Armistice Day, and later Veterans Day, it honors the military servicemen and women who have served our country. When the guns went silent on the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month in 1918 there was a collective cry of elation from people around the world who had suffered four years of a terrible war. Yet it was only an armistice, a cease fire. True peace  was not reached until the settlement of the Treaty of Versailles on 28 June 1919. And twenty years later another war began that would quickly overwhelm the world with even more death and destruction. 

When I first started collecting photos of military bands from the Great War, I was surprised at how many postcards had been preserved. Some, like the card of the band in Vouziers, were commercially printed in large numbers for soldiers to use. Others, like the band in a Serbian village, were a kind propaganda for the German public to reassure people that their soldiers were decent men who loved music and children. And many more were snapshots of a comrades serving their country as army musicians. These are my favorites and I must have a few hundred now with the great majority taken by cameras of German soldiers. How could there be so much music played during this time of war? Despite the appalling slaughter and devastation it amazes me that there were musicians who provided a brief moment of distraction, joy, or solace. 

Most of the postcards were obviously saved by families of servicemen, or even bandsmen, as a memento of military service. A soldier's scribbled messages may be faded now but it once read in a voice that someone remembered and treasured. After a century that memory has vanished but the picture and note remain. They are a link to a past we should honor and never forget because now a century later our duty is to never let a war like this happen again. 

This is my contribution to Sepia Saturday

where no one is ever lost

if they know where to look.

The Frat Boys of Old Wien

 
It's a caricature of a man and his dog, seemingly floating in the air, but more likely out for a stroll since that's what you do with a dog. This quick sketch of a pudgy man bearing a strong resemblance to his bulldog makes a lighthearted, if not charming, postcard. But there is actually more humor and cultural references in the picture than we might recognize now, a century later. 

The artist was Fritz Schönpflug (1873–1951), one of my favorite postcard illustrators that I've featured many times on my blog. Fritz was born in Wien (Vienna), Austria where during the last decades of the Hapsburg Empire he used his talent for seeing the whimsical side of life to create hundreds of caricatures like this that gently poke fun at Viennese society. His postcards were produced in Wien by the three Kohn brothers at their printing company, "Postkartenverlag Brüder Kohn" (B.K.W.I). Schönpflug's drawings were almost always put together on a theme (not unlike the Sepia Saturday idea that I participate in every weekend) and published in a series of six or eight different postcards. 

This postcard of a man and his dog was number 1 in series 842. It has a Swiss postmark from Biel/Bienne, a town located north of Bern, the capital of Switzerland, with a date of 23 May 1904. The split name is because the town is on the bilingual border of northwestern Switzerland where Biel is the German name for the town and Bienne its French counterpart. 

What makes the pudgy fellow with his dog peculiar is his little pink hat, almost a boy's cap really. It's not a style usually associated with a gentleman, which his cane, striped trousers, and spats implies that he is. Of course in 1904 most Viennese would have recognized what he was, but it took me a bit longer to figure it out. The second postcard in the series, B.K.W.I. 842–2, offered a better clue.

This illustration of two men in uniform might be mistaken for military cavalrymen with their tight dark-blue tunics, thigh-high boots, spurs, and long swords. But they are have red-gold-green sashes across their chests and instead of cavalry helmets or shakos they wear little colored beanies. Like the little pudgy man, their expressions  are arrogant and haughty, even a bit menacing. 

This card was sent from Berlin to an Apothekure, a pharmacist in Stockholm, Sweden on 26 December 1905. 

These men were not army officers or soldiers, which Schönpflug frequently sketched for several series on Wien's military characters. What connects them to the first image is that they are all members of a university fraternity. This kind of German student society or club is was called a Burschenschaft. They were first organized in Medieval times as a kind of guild to protect student members and provide mutual benefits, mainly wine and beer. Later in the early 19th century these  university student associations scattered around the Germanic parts of central Europe added a quasi-military component that linked them to the resistance sparked by Napoleon's domination of Europe. In the 1840s the Burschenschaft students became an important part of the democratic and anti-monarchist movements that advocated for revolution and were rigorously suppressed by authorities in the Germanic states and the Austrian Empire. 

Caps and colors of fraternity clubs
at University of Göttingen in 1827
Source: Wikipedia (German)

By the era of the emperors of Germany and Austria, Wilhelm II and Franz Joseph I, the student associations had evolved into organizations that favored more nationalism, religion, and regional qualities and involved more alumni. Each university had many student clubs, restricted only to men, and each had its own colors, coat of arms, mottos, and secret ceremonies. There were so many that guidebooks were needed, like this page on the clubs' hats at the University of Göttingen in 1827. It helps explain that the pudgy man's pink cap and the two men in military uniforms were making fashion statements that indicated their allegiance to a university's fraternity. 

Berlin fraternity students at a festive event  in 1912
Source: Wikipedia (German)

The element of militarism in these student clubs was also a historic part of German and Austria/Hungarian culture and referred to traditions of chivalry and loyalty to a monarch. The student clubs were sometimes called "Corps" like an army regiment. Their elaborate costumes were not unusual in this era and many American fraternal societies of the time borrowed Germanic uniform styles including the swords. However the colorful beanie caps, as seen in this 1912 picture of Berlin students, seem to have been strictly a Germanic thing. 

But for all members of student fraternities, ever since the beginning of higher academic institutions, the true college comradery has been infused with lots of beer, and the Burschenschaften 

were no different. In this next postcard of Schönpflug's series, two older fraternity brothers, alumni at an outdoor cafe, raise a toast to the good old days. Notice the waitress in the background with a tight grip on eight tall steins of beer. 

This postcard was sent from someplace in Germany, the postmark is unclear, on 18 September 1904. Schönpflug's signature also includes the year 1904, following the convention of leaving off the thousand numeral. 

Another uniformed duo is featured on Schönpflug's fourth postcard. Both wear tunics in a softer hue of Austrian blue with gold-red-gold sashes and look like they are in a parade as one man is mounted on a handsome bay horse. I don't know if all fraternities used cavalry attire like this, but equestrian skill was still an important part of education for young men from upper-class families and the aristocracy.

This card was sent on 27 September 1904 from Charlottenberg, Germany to someone named cryptically R. H. 31 in Dahme/Mark, a town in the Teltow-Fläming district of Brandenburg, Germany. Perhaps the address was to a post office box. 

This next drawing shows a group of five frat boys standing around having a very good time, though they may have regrets the next morning. They all wear the same pink cap as the little man in the first card and he may be the same fellow, second from left. 

This card has a Swiss postmark of 4 January 1905 from Zürich. The writer's message and address are in French.

Besides drinking beer, one unusual sport has always been part of Germanic university student clubs, and that is fencing. In this drawing Schönpflug depicts a swordfight between rival clubs, the gold-reds versus the red-white-blues. The men wear protective aprons, goggles, and eye shields. An umpire follows the action and keeps score. It's an activity that looks viciously more competitive than darts or bowling. And as mothers and fathers around the world know too well, anytime you give boys sharp sticks, someone is bound to get hurt. 

This card was sent on 22 September 1904 from Polná, a town now in the Vysočina Region of the Czech Republic, but then part of the Austrian Empire in Bohemia.

Fencing match of the Burschenschaft Silesia in 1869
at in the “Hirsch” restaurant in Dornbach near Wien.
Source: Wikimedia

The swordsmanship of Burschenschaften became an integral part of Germanic university life, and students in these clubs bore their scars proudly as a badge of courage and measure of their dedication to the their club. Looking closely at Schönpflug's characters we see that they all exhibit fearful scratches on their faces. These fencing matches used heavier weapons than the French/Italian epees and foils. Eye protection was allowed but not full face masks.

I haven't yet acquired Nos. 6 & 8 of Schönpflug's series 842, but at another time he drew another cartoon with a similar pair of university brothers which fits the same theme. 

Here a small pudgy man wearing a blue fraternity cap, and with a bulldog at his feet, confronts a much taller fellow wearing the same cap and thrusts a piece of paper at him. The caption reads Die Kontrahage which is a word meaning an official challenge to a duel. The faces of both men bear fencing scars. The dog looks a bit intimidated by the tall man. The short cane they both hold is another accessory which may be a mark of a fraternity fellow, perhaps a less threatening substitute for a sword. 

This card came from series 762, presumably published before the 1904 series 842,  but this is marked "printed in Austria", a notice denoting a new post-war identity for a Viennese company that heretofore was operating in a imperial monarchy. The postmark confirms this with a date of 22 February 1922 on an uninspiring green postage stamp devoid of any royal visage. 

Burschenschaft in Wien, Austria 2013
Source: DiePress.com

The Burschenschaften changed after WW1 and increasingly promoted political ideas that further divided central Europe. In the 1930s many became tied to National Socialism while others were persecuted. However, after the German takeover of Austria in 1938, all fraternities were abolished under Hitler's dictatorship. 

After WW2 the university student associations returned but they remained very restrictive and pledging for members was secretive and harsh. Today, partly due to the greater diversity in universities, these student fraternities are less popular but still controversial as they are considered very right-wing political organizations with ties to antisemitism and fascism. 

Recently a few of the more militant Burschenschaften sparked large counter-protests when they attempted a mass march in Innsbruck in 2013 and a student ball in Wien in 2018. Yet it is interesting that the students and alumni of the clubs still continue to wear traditional uniforms as depicted in Schönpflug's postcards from 1904. 

Burschenschafteen march in Innsbruck, Austria 2013
Source: DiePress.com

It's hard to know exactly what Fritz Schönpflug thought of the university student clubs and their alumni. After all, these were only caricatures of people he noticed walking along Wien's city streets. But his drawings are not flattering to his subjects. Schönpflug's rendition of their fencing scars and their cocky demeanor gives them a distinctive hideous quality that I think is what Schönpflug wanted the public to see. These were men who wore their school club's colors as  a mark of their devotion to bigotry, elitism, and special privilege. I wonder what would catch Fritz's attention seeing them in 21st century Wien. 

My last postcard from Fritz Schönpflug shows a street in Wien identified in the caption as Franzensring, Universität. One group of men doffs their gold student caps to greet another group doffing their pink caps. Notice that all of them have scars on their cheeks. 

To finish let's take a ride
along a tram line in old Wien.
This historic film from 1906 was remastered
by the Youtuber - guy jones. 

This is my contribution to Sepia Saturday

where cats and dogs are always welcome
as long as they behave themselves.