The Poor Man of Toggenburg - Autobiography of Ulrich Bräker

From the 14th to the 24th October our way took us through (omitting the smaller places) Ingolstadt, Donauwerth, Dillingen, Buxheim, Wangen, Hohentwiel, Bregenz, Rheineck and Roschach, forty leagues altogether.

Above Rheineck I encountered a jest that went sadly wrong. Until then we had journeyed together in brotherly fashion, conversing cheerfully about our lucky escape, our fortunes in the past and in the present, and our plans for the future. Bachmann, in whose mind memories of hare and hounds had been reviving almost every day, had bought himself a flintlock almost as soon as we were out of Prague, and now carried it with him. I had long since wearied of his interminable stories of coursing and chasing, when we, as I said before, were above Rheineck in the vineyards and heard hounds crying. This made my treacherous Urian

leap high in the air for rapture, and he declared that they were, by Heaven, his old acquaintances, he knew them by their baying! I laughed in his face. At this he grew angry and bade me stand still and listen to the beautiful music. Then I jeered at him without restraint, and stamped my feet. Indeed, I should have done better to let the matter rest. He flew into a mad rage and came up to me foaming at the mouth, and grinding his teeth, raised his gun and set it at my head, as if he would kill me at that very instant. I was terrified; he was armed, I was not, and even without reckoning with this and with his fury, I hardly think that I could have matched myself with this stalwart fellow, who was by nature desperately fierce and nearly two inches taller than myself. Yet, I know not if it was from courage or from fear, I stood my ground without flinching, and looked about me on all sides to see if I could call anyone to my aid. But - it was a lonely place, on a common - I could not see so much as a mouse. "Don't be a fool", I said to him, "you know I meant it only in jest". With this his wrath abated somewhat.

We went on our way in silence, and I was glad when we came quietly into the village of Rheineck. Now he spoke ingratiatingly to me, because of a thaler that I had borrowed from him on the way, and I have often thought that this paltry piece of money saved my life. But from that moment all confidence between us had vanished. Yet I never backed out of the bargain, though I had plenty of opportunities to do so, and my father willingly paid him his thaler, when he came to our house a few days after my homecoming.

We then went on to Roschach, and on the following day, the 25th October, to Herisau, for my lord Bachmann had no desire to hurry, and I was well aware that he would not feel safe to go home, until he had informed himself how the land lay in respect of his former misdeeds.

But I could not stay for this fellow any longer, for now that I was so near my home I burned with longing to reach it at last. So on the 26th of October, early in the morning, I took to the road for the last time and ran like a deer over hill and dale, and all the while a lively vision of reunion with my parents, my brothers and sisters and my sweetheart served me instead of food and drink. As in this manner I drew nearer and nearer to my beloved Wattwil, and finally came to the pleasant height from which I saw the church tower close beneath me; all my being was moved and many great tears rolled down my cheeks. O, longed-for, blessed spot! I see you once more and no-one shall ever take me from you again, so I thought at least a hundred times as I trotted down the hill, and as I did so I continually thanked God's providence for saving me from so many dangers, and though by no miracle, yet by His most gracious kindness.

On the bridge at Wattwil an old acquaintance of mine, Gämperle, hailed me (he having known of my courtship before I left home), and his first words were: "Well, what do you think! Your Anne has thrown herself away, your cousin Michel was the lucky man and she has a child already."

This went through my very marrow, but I did not let this spiteful messenger of ill observe it. "Well, now," I said, "what's gone is gone!" And indeed, to my great astonishment, I

Anna Lüthold and Michel Bräker, son of Niklaus Bräker, were married on 23rd March 1756. They had only one child, another Michel, who was born, and died, in 1756. [Chronik, p 516] [Since he was born before October, he must have been conceived before the wedding.].