6 July 1628

I pray to my God for strength to bear through these times.  I am so distracted and confused—I do not know what to think!  There are rumours today that my father confessed to being a witch!  I pray they are false, and are only the slander of gossips, but too often have these rumours been proven true.  It must be true, but I know not what to think.  All my heart cries that he is an honest Christian with a pure soul, yet all my judgement cries that the most knowledgeable men—men who ought to know how to discover such things—have proved him a witch.  God guide me, in what do I place my trust? 

I have written to Anna Maria, but I feel that I do not know myself at all.  Hans does not listen to me—he is so angry I fear for his soul.  I warn him that he must pray to God for guidance in this, but he pushes me away.  And I fear because sometimes I feel as he does—angry and frightened and alone.  What will become of us? 

Hans and I are living with Cousin Stamer, for the court has taken all of father’s property.  My cousin was so good to take us in—he came to us immediately after he heard what had befallen my poor father and took us to his house.  I was so relieved when I saw him, for I was distraught and knew not what to do.  Hans was leaving to confront the court despite all I said and did to prevent him when my cousin arrived and stopped him.  I cannot bear to think what may have happened had he gone.  Everywhere I look I see nothing but frightened and suspicious faces, just like when mother was taken—only Hans and my cousin can look at me without cringing.

A witch-mayor makes a fine subject for gossiping tongues!  Do they ever think of the good my father did?   The old women sitting on their front steps, chattering loudly to overcome their deafness, speak only of suspicions they long held.  Before they arrested my father, none would have suspected him.  Now there is not a person in Bamberg but suspected him all along!