The Poor Man of Toggenburg - Autobiography of Ulrich Bräker

time, Ollrich," he answered, "keep your courage up! As soon as the drilling is over, you'll be able to earn something. And who knows - perhaps we'll soon be out on campaign again, and then". He said no more but I well understood his meaning, and went home in better spirits, as if I had been speaking with my father.

A few days later I did indeed take the flintlock, the sword and the velvet cap to him, he paid me only a small sum for them, but what Markoni did was always right with me. Soon afterwards I also sold my gold-braided hat, my green coat and all I had to spare, and I did not stint myself while anything remained. Schärer was as poor as myself, except that he had a few groschen extra to his allowance and a double ration of bread, the major thought a deal more of him than me. Meanwhile we had become bosom friends; so long as one had a crust left the other had a bite. Bachmann, however, who was also lodging with us, was a miserly fellow and never in harmony with us, yet every hour seemed as long as a day when we three could not be together. For Gästli we had to seek in the whorehouses, when we wished to find him, and he soon finished up in the hospital. Schärer and I were of the same mind in this too, that we found the women of Berlin disgusting and repugnant

, and I would swear on oath for him as well as myself that we never laid a finger on any of them. As soon as drill was over, we would hasten together to Schottmann's cellar, drink our can of Ruhin or Gottwitz beer, smoke a pipeful and carol a Swiss song. The men of Brandenburg and Pomerania

always liked to listen to us. Sometimes gentlefolk, even, would send to call us into an eating-house, to sing the cowherds' song

for them. The musicians' reward usually consisted of only a dish of coarse broth, but in such a situation one would be content with worse.

Berlin is the largest city I have ever seen in the world, yet I never compassed the whole of it, by far. We three Swiss often planned to make such a tour, but sometimes we lacked the time and sometimes the money, or were so tired out by our exertions that we preferred to lie down and rest. Of the city of Berlin many have said indeed that it consists of seven cities, but we only heard the names of three of them: Berlin, Neustadt and Friedrichstadt. All three have different kinds of buildings. They say that in Berlin - also called Cölln

- the houses are as tall as in the cities of the Empire, but the streets are not so wide as in Neustadt or Friedrichstadt; there, however, the houses are built lower but more uniformly, for even the smallest of them, inhabited by very poor folk, look at least clean and neat. In many places there are huge empty squares, which sometimes serve as drill- or parade-grounds, sometimes no purpose at all; further on there are fields, gardens, avenues, all enclosed in the city.

We often chose to go to the long bridge, where stands in the midst an old Markgraf of Brandenburg

, on horseback as large as life, cast in bronze, and some sons of Anak

with curly hair sit in fetters at his feet; then down the Spree to the Weidendamm, a gay place; then to the

Bräker is referring to prostitutes; Berlin was said at that time to have more of them than any other European city.

In German "Kuhreihen", but better known under the French title "Ranz des vaches". Coxe [v 2 pp 116-7] says that Swiss soldiers in French service were forbidden to sing it because it made them homesick and prompted them to desert. The American Louis Simond [p 108], hearing it in the early 19th century, writes: "... the notes, singularly wild and melancholy, and yet lively, were frequently interrupted by a sudden shriek, very like those in the war songs of the American savages". This might mean that the chorus included yodelling.

Berlin and Cölln had originally been two cities, on the east and the west banks of the Spree, but they had been united as one city since 1432. Neustadt and Friedrichstadt were suburbs of the city.

A monument to a former ruler, the Elector Frederick William, by Andreas Schlüter. It is now in the courtyard of the palace of Charlottenburg.