- 165 -

themselves with laughing, and even to this day I do not know what would have become of me, without this chance happening. I slunk away like a dog that has been bitten. The boys whistled after me until I was out of their sight. I was burning with rage. Rage at whom? At myself - and gave my sensuality to the Devil and his grandmother for a New Year's present. At that moment I would have stood having an ear cut off my head for that cursed trick. Soon afterwards I learned that because I was under suspicion for of my free-spirited ways this trap had been laid for me on purpose, and that those boys had let it be known that they had caught me doing this and that."

This caused a whispering campaign against him, but although Bräker was badly hurt by it, he eventually lived it down by refusing to appear ashamed of himself, and making it clear that he knew who was spreading tales about him. At the time of writing he is having some success in overcoming his failings, and even in living more peaceably with his wife and his neighbours. His health is good, in fact in some respects better than before.

"What disquiets me the most is my children. I see them continually before me and in them I see myself, from my earliest childhood on, as in a mirror. All the transgressions that I committed against my parents I am compelled to see avenged on me by them. And also just as I offended against my brothers and sisters, I perceive with sadness that they do the very same thing to each other. It is true that I also find my better side in them, and all things considered the pleasure I have in my children has made my marriage, in particular, tolerable to me.

Without children I do not know what would have become of me. I told my wife at the outset that if we should be so unfortunate as to have none, my sorrow would know no bounds. But my wish was granted. I was blessed with seven children. The two eldest, for whom I cherished the most tender affection, were torn from me by death. [...] Those two were the dearest lambs of the flock, and would to God that their good-heartedness had been inherited by those that remained!

My wife had little difficulty in bearing any of the seven and recovered well each time. But the first months of each pregnancy were all the harder. However, she has always enjoyed more enduring health in marriage than she did when she was single. And she bore me none but well-formed offspring. One or two of them may have inherited defects from her, for example, besides the two that perished early my son Jakob, who although he is nearly come to his full growth, is never in full health. She was a careful though not a tender mother. The care of the little ones and the rearing of the older ones caused her trouble beyond words, days without rest and nights without sleep. But I helped her as much as possible, and like a proper nursemaid I cooked and washed, hauled water and wood and took great pleasure in doing so, too. For many hundreds of hours I carried my children in my arms, cradled them and rocked them, and with much inward joy I taught the two that died to read and write at my own knee. But since the others were so much slower on the uptake, I grew tired of this and packed them off to school.

Now, you dear ones still left to me for as long as the Lord wills, let me describe you each in turn, as you appear to my eyes, and as my fatherly heart, surely not hard towards you, judges you. [...] I find myself in you to the life, and the portrait of your mother no less lifelike.

I am your father. You look into my eyes whenever your mother is trying to keep you to your duty, perhaps in a way all too violent, and I have to bear many reproaches on this account, as if I always took your part. Now, that I cannot help! [...] I can say what I like and it makes no difference. She is your mother - she carried each of you under her heart for nine months - bore you in pain, and reared you with indescribable labour and care [...] And so, let us have no scornful faces, no whining or grumbling, my children! when some squall or storm passes over you. [...] What good has ever come of meeting hard words with harder? Rather it brings forth upon earth, day by day, so many distasteful comedies, and even lamentable tragedies, so that the Devil and all his fellows have their work cut out to applaud them all. And now I turn to each one of you in particular:

Contents