oe 
uprising of 1848. Wislizenus may have smiled in 
later years at his youthful dreams, but he never grew 
to be ashamed of them. Many years after, when 
improvising at the piano at twilight, as he loved to 
do, he would occasionally break into a stirring song, 
and tell the inquiring listener with a smile that did 
not wholly conceal pride: “That’s one of our songs 
in 1833!” 
Some of the students were caught. Several of them 
were condemned to death, though none were executed. 
Several, however, went mad in confinement, and 
others were so crushed by dungeon life that they never 
recovered. Yet most of the students escaped through 
the aid of sympathizing friends, of whom there was 
no lack. Wislizenus used a pass in the name of 
Hoefling. The trying moments of his flight were 
when he couldn’t recall his assumed name on being 
suddenly roused from sleep by an official; and again 
when he had to leave the coach abruptly, as the yellow 
dye, applied to make him resemble the Hoefling de- 
scribed in the pass, ran down from his jet black hair. 
He reached Strassburg in safety, and thence went 
to the University of Zurich, where several of his 
German professors, such as Schoenlein and Oken, 
honored for their deep learning, and endeared to 
him by their political sympathies, had preceded him. 
At Zurich he took his degree as doctor of medicine, 
and, after spending some time in Paris hospitals, 
came to New York in 1835. 
