The Memoirs of J.G. Kerlen – Part 1

I first saw the light of day on the 5th of June. This worldly event took place, according to my elder sisters, in the small office next to the shop on the Nieuwstad in Zutphen, where my father kept a rather flourishing shoe shop.

The house stood very close to the bridge over the Berkel, next to which was the French school of Mr. de Vos. Our house was separated from the school by a small boutique. From the rear, we had a view of Mr. Resink’s oil mills, which were driven by the Berkel, and the street leading to the entrance of the Asylum and Mr. Semmelink’s Primary School.

I recall little from my early childhood. Even the face of my mother—whose oil-painted portrait I still possess—I cannot clearly imagine. She must have been a truly sweet woman who loved me dearly. Unfortunately, she died when I was only two and a half years old. I am told I cried terribly when I saw her body being driven away from our neighbor’s window across the road. The sight of that funeral made such an impression on me that it remains my only memory of her.

I do, however, remember that my father had a small stable on Beek-en-Street, which the office where I was born overlooked. He kept a small goat there, and I was allowed to accompany him when he milked the animal. My friend was Henk de Vos; we used to play in his father’s school when it was empty. Once, while playing, we were attacked by a dog that bit me in the groin. I remember being stood on a table to be bandaged. This is essentially all I remember until the death of my beloved mother.

Like his three sons would later do, my father could not remain without a wife for long. Soon, we children learned he was engaged to Miss Suzanna Brusse in The Hague. She ran a fabric shop with a Miss Janssen, supported by Mr. Diepenheim, who later became the Director of Finance in the Dutch East Indies.

I vaguely remember staying with my future stepmother. I know this because it was the first time I saw gas lamps being ignited; they made a “bang” that left quite an impression on me. Gaslights had not yet been introduced in Zutphen at that time.

When I was three, my eldest brother, Gerrit, became engaged to Cornelie de Thouars (a Marquise and shopkeeper). My father, an ambitious man, decided to hand his business over to Gerrit so he could start a new one. He took over a shop from Mr. Heystek in the Snijdersstraat in Nijmegen, and we moved there shortly after.

My father remarried during this time, though I remember nothing of the wedding, nor of my brother’s, which must have occurred around the same time. The journey from Zutphen to Nijmegen was made in an open “tent-car,” during which my mother’s face swelled after being stung by a wasp. (In the future, I will not refer to her as “stepmother,” as that good woman did not in the least deserve the negative connotations often associated with the name.)

Regarding my early years in Nijmegen, I only remember being sent to the primary school on the Klokkenberg before I was even six years old. At this Christian school—which had the strange habit of teaching young children in the German language—I apparently grew up to be quite a mischief-maker. I was frequently punished for playing truant; in short, I was a difficult boy. Eventually, the school decided I was not worth a “Christian education,” and my parents had to find another school for me.

The final straw occurred when I was kept after school for punishment. A certain Mr. Groesas ordered me to stand on a desk with my slate held above my head. I grew tired and lowered the slate. Groesas then gave me a hard whack across the fingers with a sharp ruler. I was so enraged that I smashed the slate over the man’s head, leaving the wooden frame hanging around his neck like a collar. I was expelled on the spot.

Meanwhile, my father’s business had improved, allowing him to move the shop to a better neighborhood in the Broerstraat. He even established a branch in the Ketelstraat in Arnhem, managed by my sister Cato and my second brother, Anton. The family had also expanded by five children in this second marriage, though one died very young. The eldest son, Bernard, was a wonderful playmate for me, but he unfortunately passed away at age five from a large boil on his leg.

My parents planned for me to attend a gymnasium. In preparation, they sent me to an affordable but strict boarding school run by Mr. Nierhof along the Dedemsvaart. My father took me there personally. We traveled from Nijmegen to Katerveer on a small paddle-steamer named The Falcon. We stayed overnight in Zwolle before reaching our destination the next day via a horse-drawn barge.

In Zwolle, my father offered me a light “lady’s cigar.” This may be why I became such a heavy smoker later in life; I liked the cigar, and it didn’t make me sick at all. The seven-hour journey by barge along the boring Dedemsvaart left me so sleepy that I remember nothing of my arrival.

I spent nearly two years at the boarding school and quite liked it. There were about 30 boarders and many day students. Every other day, we were required to speak either French or German, which is why I later had so little trouble with those languages. I only went home during summer holidays; Christmas was spent at the school because steamship travel was halted during the winter.

During one winter break, I was invited to stay with a classmate, Hulsebos. His father was the director of the Ommerschans penal colony, about a three-hour walk from school. While walking there, we found a cache of silver coins on the road. We kept them and eventually divided them after no one responded to advertisements in the provincial papers. My stay with the Hulsebos family was a “Dorado”; their home was spacious, the beds were downy soft, and the food was lovely. We even had a cart drawn by a large ram to go sightseeing.

Before the two years were up, I was called back to Nijmegen for the Gymnasium entrance exams. I placed second and began my studies. However, my first months there were unhappy. I had no interest in Latin or Greek, which were taught by a Mr. v.d. Kloes—a man I found quite disrespectable and who seemed prejudiced against me from the start. Furthermore, my parents wanted me to train for the ministry so I could receive a scholarship, but I disliked the profession. I protested, and they eventually allowed me to transfer to “Section B” (similar to a modern H.B.S. track).

I dreamed of becoming a medical officer, but my father refused because of the “free studies” (subsidized) attached to it. It was decided I would instead be educated at the K.M.A. (Royal Military Academy) in Breda.

Around this time, my father’s business changed again. The Arnhem branch was closed, and the family moved to The Hague to start a new business, while I stayed in Nijmegen to finish my studies. I enjoyed Section B much more; my math teacher, Mr. Jurriens, and my physics teacher, Piet v.d. Burgh, remain fond memories.

However, my father soon moved me to the strict school of Mr. Neuman in The Hague so he could supervise me personally. It was hard work: school hours were 8–12, 2–4, and 5:30–8. I did well there, particularly in math under Mr. Buckman and English under Mr. Therie. At age 13, I was prepared for the K.M.A. entrance exams. Although Mr. Neuman thought I was too young, my father insisted.

In Breda, I was examined by three captains: Hartog (Math), Kempees (Geometry), and the “Genie” (Engineer) Captain G.v.d. Hoeven, nicknamed “Govert.” During the algebra exam, Govert asked questions far beyond the syllabus. When I admitted I didn’t know the answer, he replied, “That doesn’t matter, little man; when you join the Engineers, you will learn a lot more than you know now.” That was encouraging.

I passed, ranking 8th out of 275 candidates. On September 3, 1865, my father took me to Breda to begin my military life. I was a tiny cadet; I stood only 1.42m (4’8″) tall with a large head. I was accepted only on the condition that I “grow taller quickly.”

Life as a “freshman” was brutal. I was targeted by older cadets. I remember being beaten by a cadet named Otken, and later receiving 20 lashes on my buttocks from a cadet named de La Parra because of a poem I was forced to write. Another cadet, C.v.d. Wijck, used to hit my nose with a medicine bottle just because it was “too straight.” I despised these men for the rest of my life.

These abuses eventually came to light during the Mestingh case. Mestingh was a brilliant but nervous student who was bullied so relentlessly that he committed suicide. This scandal led to the discharge of the Governor-General and the Commander. They were replaced by Colonel Schonstadt, who promised to pull the K.M.A. out of “deep decay.” However, his “energy” mostly resulted in heavy punishments for minor offenses. I myself once spent four days in detention just for reading a novel during an algebra lesson.

Despite the hardships, I progressed. While Malay was my “nightmare”—I struggled with the complex grammar—I excelled in math and English. After failing my Malay exam twice, Professor de Hollander took pity on my high marks in other subjects and promoted me anyway, with a stern warning to study harder. It was a warning I took deeply to heart.

This text is a genealogical treasure trove. It provides not only the “dry” data of births, deaths, and marriages but also the “flesh” of the family story—social status, naming patterns, and even physical descriptions.

Here is a genealogical analysis of the memoir:

1. Direct Lineage and Core Data

The text establishes three generations of the Kerlen family in rapid succession:

• The Subject: Johannes Godfried Kerlen, born June 5, 1850, in Zutphen.

• The Father: A shoemaker in Zutphen and later Nijmegen/The Hague. He is described as “ambitious,” suggesting a drive for upward social mobility.

• The Mother: Died when the author was 2.5 years old (approx. late 1852). The author possesses an oil painting of her, a significant family heirloom for any genealogist to track.

• The Stepmother: Suzanna Brusse from The Hague. Her connection to Mr. Diepenheim (Director of Finance in the Dutch East Indies) likely provided the social or professional “bridge” that led the family toward colonial service.

2. Sibling and Extended Family Map

The General identifies several siblings, providing a roadmap for collateral lines:

• Gerrit (Eldest): Married Cornelie de Thouars (a Marquise). This marriage is a “status marker,” indicating the Kerlen family was moving into the upper-middle class or minor nobility circles.

• Anton (Second Brother): Managed the Arnhem shop; married Cato Giesing in Hees.

• Cato (Sister): Unmarried during the Nijmegen period, helped with the household.

• Johanna (Eldest Sister): Described as “tall and stately.”

• Bernard: A half-brother (from the second marriage) who died at age five.

• Unnamed Siblings: He mentions the second marriage produced five children, one of whom died in infancy.

• Cousin Benninck: A relative in Schiedam who managed the Musis Sacrum (a concert hall).

3. Socio-Economic and “Migration” Patterns

The text tracks a classic 19th-century Dutch urban migration:

• Zutphen $\rightarrow$ Nijmegen $\rightarrow$ Arnhem $\rightarrow$ The Hague.

• The father’s career path (from a shop next to an asylum to a “comfortable house” in the Oude Molstraat in The Hague) shows a steady increase in wealth.

• The “Indies” Connection: The mention of children in “Indie” (the Dutch East Indies) in the introduction confirms the family’s transition from domestic tradesmen to colonial administrators and military officers.

4. Physical and Medical Genealogy

Genealogists often lack physical descriptions of ancestors, but the General is remarkably specific:

• Physical Stature: He was exceptionally small as a teenager (1.42m / 4’8″).

• Cranial Measurement: He notes a head circumference of 59cm, which he calls an “abnormality” relative to his height.

• Eyesight: The introduction mentions “bad eyes” that prevented him from reading or writing in his 70s.

• Longevity: He was writing at age 75, suggesting a hearty constitution despite his heavy smoking habit (which he blames on his father’s gift of a cigar in Zwolle).

5. Social Clues: The De Thouars Connection

The mention of Cornelie de Thouars as a “Marquise” is a major genealogical lead. The De Thouars were an old French-origin noble family. The fact that a shoemaker’s son (Gerrit) married into this name suggests the Kerlens were either becoming very wealthy or that the De Thouars line in the Netherlands had become more commercially involved.

Summary Table for Research