“On my journey to Russia I stayed at the estate of Herr von G—, a Lithuanian nobleman, whose sons were
at that time intense in their practice of fencing. The older one, just back from the university, styled himself
a virtuoso and one morning offered me a rapier. We fenced, and it happened that I was victorious. His
passion had added to his confusion; and almost every thrust that I made was a hit until finally his rapier
was knocked from his hand.
“As he picked it up, half in joke, half in irritation, he said that he had found his master, indeed that everyone
in the world eventually found his master and that he would show me mine. The brother laughed heartily
and shouted: ‘Let’s go to the woodshed.’ And with that they took me by the arm and led me to a bear
which their father had had raised in the yard.
“As I approached, the bear stood erect with his back against the pole to which he was chained. He looked
me in the eye, his right paw raised; he was in fencing position. For a moment, confronted by this strange
rival, I thought I was dreaming. ‘Foil, foil,’ said Herr von G—, ‘see if you can strike him.’ When I had
recovered from my astonishment, I thrust at him with the rapier; the bear flipped his paw; the thrust was
parried. I tried to seduce him with a feint; the bear did not budge. With a sudden lunge I thrust again;
I would absolutely have hit a human opponent; the bear flipped his paw, parried the thrust. I was in the
same spot that young Herr von G— had been. The bear’s concentration added to my loss of composure.
I alternated thrusts and feints; I sweated, in vain! Like the finest fencer in the world, the bear met and
parried each thrust, but he did not respond to feints; (no fencer in the world could have matched him in
that). Eye to eye, as if he read my soul, he stood with his paw lifted, ready to fight; and if I did not intend
my thrust, he remained immobile.
“Do you believe this story?”
“Absolutely!” I exclaimed, applauding him. “I would believe it of anyone and how much more of you.”