“Dittmar went down first; he was the only one of us who knew how to swim; so he walked before us to show us the depth.  The water was about up to our chests, and he, who preceded us, was up to his shoulders, when he warned us not to go farther, because he was ceasing to feel the bottom.  He immediately gave up his footing and began to swim, but scarcely had he made ten strokes when, having reached the place where the river separates into two branches, he uttered a cry, and as he was trying to get a foothold, disappeared.  We ran at once to the bank, hoping to be able to help him more easily; but we had neither poles nor ropes within reach, and, as I have told you, neither of us could swim.  Then we called for help with all our might.  At that moment Dittmar reappeared, and by an unheard-of effort seized the end of a willow branch that was hanging over the water; but the branch was not strong enough to resist, and our friend sank again, as though he had been struck by apoplexy.  Can you imagine the state in which we were, we his friends, bending over the river, our fixed and haggard eyes trying to pierce its depth?  My God, my God! how was it we did not go mad?

“A great crowd, however, had run at our cries.  For two hours they sought far him with boats and drag-hooks; and at last they succeeded in drawing his body from the gulf.  Yesterday we bore it solemnly to the field of rest.

“Thus with the end of this spring has begun the serious summer of my life.  I greeted it in a grave and melancholy mood, and you behold me now, if not consoled, at least strengthened by religion, which, thanks to the merits of Christ, gives me the assurance of meeting my friend in heaven, from the heights of which he will inspire me with strength to support the trials of this life; and now I do not desire anything more except to know you free from all anxiety in regard to me.”

Instead of serving to unite the two groups of students in a common grief, this accident, on the contrary, did but intensify their hatred of each other.  Among the first persons who ran up at the cries of Sand and his companion was a member of the Landmannschaft who could swim, but instead of going to Dittmar’s assistance he exclaimed, “It seems that we shall get rid of one of these dogs of Burschen; thank God!” Notwithstanding this manifestation of hatred, which, indeed, might be that of an individual and not of the whole body, the Burschen invited their enemies to be present at Dittmar’s funeral.  A brutal refusal, and a threat to disturb the ceremony by insults to the corpse, formed their sole reply.  The Burschen then warned the authorities, who took suitable measures, and all Dittmar’s friends followed his coffin sword in hand.  Beholding this calm but resolute demonstration, the Landmannschaft did not dare to carry out their threat, and contented themselves with insulting the procession by laughs and songs.

Sand wrote in his journal: