Luther’s Domestic Life—Character of Catharine—Perils of
Luther—Sickness—Death of his Parents—Private Life—Catharine.
Luther led with Catharine a very peaceful and happy domestic life. It
would be doing him great injustice and placing him in the rank of common
men, to judge of his conjugal and domestic demeanor from his public
character. Here there was no trace of that severity and violence which
can only find an apology in the frequent insulting conduct of his
enemies, the unrefined spirit of the times, but, above all, in his
burning zeal for the glory of God and the truth of the Gospel. No! in
the circle of his family he was an affectionate husband and tender
father; kind and condescending to all his household, and benevolent to
the poor. In writing to Stiefel (Aug. 11, 1526), he playfully says: “My
rib, Kate, salutes you. She is well, with God’s help; she is amiable,
obedient, and obliging in all things to a greater degree than I could
have hoped for, thank heaven, so that I would not exchange my poverty
for the wealth of Crœsus.” When he had finished his commentary on the
Epistle to the Galatians, he cried out, “This is my letter to which I am
betrothed; it is my Katy von Bora!” On the 31st of August, 1538, he thus
writes to Bernard von Dohlen: “If I were a young man again, now since I
have experienced the wickedness of the world, if a queen were offered to
me after my Catharine, I would rather die than marry a second time.” “I
could not have a more _obedient_ wife unless I would have one hewn out
of stone.” Many such expressions occur in his table-talk. Among other
things, he says, “I hear that there are much greater faults and
occasions of disagreement among married people than I find in my wife.
This is an abundant reason that I should love and esteem her, because
she is _sincere_ and _upright_, as a _pious_ and _discreet_ wife should
be.” “I have a _pious_ and _faithful_ wife in whom the heart of her
husband doth safely trust.” Prov. 31; 11. “I value her more highly than
I would the whole kingdom of France and the sovereignty of Venice; for
God has given me a _pious_ wife.” “The best and most valuable gift of
God is a pious, affectionate, godly, domestic wife, with whom you can
live at peace, to whom you may entrust all that you possess; yea, your
very body and life.”
But Catharine had in Luther not only an affectionate husband, but a man
who, on account of his enlightened understanding, his widespread
usefulness, and his undaunted heroism, deserved all the veneration he
received from all the truly pious of his generation.
From this time forth, Catharine was totally and forever weaned from the
monastic life, and all the anxieties for the future which may have
distressed her on her first escape, had now vanished. Though Luther’s
worldly circumstances were not the most flourishing, yet he was aided by
the liberality of the princes and other noble-minded men to such an
extent, at least, that he did not absolutely suffer for the necessaries
of life.[8] In this respect, Catharine’s circumstances were much
improved. However, many dangers threatened the bold champion of truth,
right, and liberty, which were calculated to disturb the happy serenity
of his wife. He had several alarming attacks of sickness, which
occasioned her painful solicitude. In the first year of his marriage
some noblemen conspired against him because he effected the escape of
thirteen nuns out of a cloister in the territory of Duke George. He
himself acknowledges this in a letter to Stiefel, and says of it, “I
have chased away Satan from this booty of Christ.” Hence, with tears,
she entreated him not to leave Wittenberg at such a perilous time when
he was invited to the wedding of Spalatin, and he yielded. But he was
not accustomed to be alarmed at the thunder-clouds which rolled over
him. Even as early as 1526, he undertook a journey in company with
Catharine, and yet that was the time he had most to fear. But he was
never free from danger. In 1530, when his father was lying on his
death-bed, he dared not venture to visit him, but wrote an affecting
letter, stating that his friends positively forbade his leaving
Wittenberg, lest he might be murdered. A Jewish physician of Posen was
hired for two thousand golden guilders to poison him. In 1541 he was
waylaid by an assassin, but escaped. Notwithstanding his vigorous
constitution, which seemed to promise extreme old age, yet from early
youth he was subject to frequent severe attacks of sickness, and under
such circumstances we may well wonder, that besides his numerous
professional labors, he was able to prepare so many theological works,
to conduct so extensive a correspondence with men of every class of
society, and accomplish so many journeys, which must have consumed much
time.[9] His master-piece, The Translation of the Bible, was a work
which scarcely any learned man of the present day could have
accomplished in the same space of time, under similar circumstances. Let
it be remembered that the first time he ever saw the whole of the Bible
in the Latin language he was already twenty-two years of age; that he
had few of the preliminary aids essential to such a work, and that the
German language was at that time still very imperfect. In twenty-eight
years the translation of the whole Bible was finished and printed.[10]
He suffered most from hæmorrhoidal affections, the treatment of which
was little understood at that time. These attacks appeared mysterious to
him, and in his depression of mind occasioned by them, and in the
indulgence of a lively imagination, he ascribed the painful anxieties
which he felt, agreeably to the notions of that day, to the temptations
of the devil, who tried to hinder him in prosecuting his good work by
assuming various forms and appearances. Attacks of sickness, which were
in part the result of his severe fastings during his monastic life, were
aggravated by his extraordinary mental labors, by his sedentary habits,
and the numerous painful mortifications of spirit to which his
unconquerable love of the truth exposed him. Above all, it was the
unhappy sacramentarian controversy in 1525 which had the most injurious
influence on his health. Hence these corporeal sufferings could never be
entirely removed. Yet amid all his painful and melancholy hours
Catharine was to him a ministering angel. By her affectionate sympathy,
her tender nursing, and prudent accommodation to his whims, she greatly
relieved his bodily and mental sufferings. She had frequent occasion to
display these amiable qualities, for her husband had often recurring
attacks of sickness. To notice but a few instances, we will state that
as early as 1526 he suffered with hæmorrhoids, accompanied with severe
oppression of the breast. But it was particularly in 1527 that he was
attacked in a manner that brought him to the very borders of the grave.
In July, he was so suddenly and dangerously seized that his wife and
friends trembled for his life. But both of them displayed a greatness of
soul and dignity of deportment which were truly admirable. Christian
fortitude, perfect resignation to the will of God, and unshaken
confidence in an all-controlling Providence, animated them both in the
highest degree. They endured their present trials with pious submission,
and with comfortable security they anticipated future dangers. Luther
did not think that he would recover, but believed that he should have to
part with the wife whose husband he had been but two years. Catharine
was full of terrible apprehension of being left a poor widow and mother
of one child, without being able to count much on human aid, and having
no means of support. He was to leave the sacred work which he had begun,
and for which he would have sacrificed his all, and she was to be
dependent on the kindness of some real and many equivocal friends. Yet
Luther prayed with a submissive heart, and commended his wife to God’s
paternal care. “My loving and most benevolent Father! I thank thee from
my heart that it was thy will I should be poor on the earth, and hence I
can leave neither house, field, money, nor any other property, to my
wife and son. As thou hast given her to me, so I restore her to thee,”
&c. He also consoled his wife with these words; “My beloved Kate, I
beseech you to submit to God’s gracious will, if it should please him to
take me to Himself this time. You are my faithful wife, let the blind,
ungodly world say what it may. Let your conduct be governed by the word
of God, and hold fast to it, and thus you will have certain and constant
comfort against all the temptations and blasphemies of Satan.” When, at
his request, they brought his infant son to him, he said, “O you good,
poor little child! now I commend your beloved mother and you, poor
orphan, to my good and faithful God. _You have nothing_; but God, who is
the father of the orphan and the judge of the widow, will richly provide
for you.” Here he again turned to his wife, and said, “You know that,
excepting the silver cups, we have nothing.” These, and similar
expressions, awakened the most painful emotions in the heart of
Catharine, and yet she tried to conceal her grief, and to encourage him,
“My dear Doctor,” said she, “if it is God’s will, I would rather you
should be with Him than with me. But it is not only I and my child who
must be taken into account, and for whom your life would be valuable,
but there are many pious and Christian souls who have need of your
presence and services. Do not distress yourself about me; I commend you
to His divine will. I trust he will graciously preserve you.” Eight days
after, Luther recovered, to the great joy of his wife and all his
friends.
Not long after, in the same year, a contagious disease broke out in
Wittenberg, which created so much alarm that the students precipitately
fled, and the University was transferred to Jena. The Elector, John the
Constant, advised Luther to repair to Jena also; but this main pillar of
the new-born church would not leave Wittenberg, although there were
cases of the contagion in his own family. Bugenhagen also remained at
the post of duty. Nov. 1, Luther wrote to Amsdorff, “My house is an
hospital. I begin to feel anxious about my wife, who is in a delicate
condition. My infant son has been sick these three days; he eats nothing
and is extremely unwell.” But these attacks were not contagious, and
their alarm soon subsided. In the following year, Luther suffered from a
pulmonary affection and constant headache. In 1532, he was so severely
attacked with vertigo that apoplexy was apprehended. He also
occasionally suffered from obstinate boils; in his later years, symptoms
of calculus were also apparent. In 1536, an affection of the hip-joint
confined him to bed a fortnight. But in 1537, Catharine had especial
occasion to display her affectionate solicitude, for her husband was
again brought to the very brink of the grave. During this year he was
commanded by John Frederick, Elector of Saxony, to proceed to Smalcald
on important church business. Although he suffered severely from
calculus, and the weather was extremely cold, he set out on his journey
on Feb. 1. But he had scarcely arrived at Smalcald, when the pains
increased to such an extent, to which an obstinate ischury was
super-added, that everybody was doubtful of his recovery. The Elector,
who was present, contributed everything in his power to his restoration.
He visited and consoled him. On his departure, he thus addressed him:
“If it should please God to take you away, be not concerned about your
wife and children. I will take them into my protection.” He recovered
sufficiently to enter on his journey home on the 26th. Dangerous as
travelling appeared to be under the circumstances, yet it was of
immediate service. On the way, he was relieved of the principal cause of
his intense suffering, and communicated the joyful event to his wife and
the sympathizing Melanchthon. To the former he wrote, “Yesterday I left
Smalcald. I was not well three days whilst there; in a word, I was dead,
and I had commended you and the children to God and my gracious Elector,
for I never expected to see you again; but God had mercy on me. Most
fervent prayers to God were offered for me, and many tears were shed on
my account. God heard these prayers, and last night I was relieved. I
now feel like a new-born man. Thank God for this; and let the dear
children, with Aunt Magdalena, thank the Heavenly Father, for you had
almost lost me, the earthly father. God performed wonders towards me
last night through the intercession of pious persons. This I also
ascribe to you, for I presume the Elector ordered word to be sent to you
that I was dying, so that you might come and speak to me, or at least
see me before I died. That is not necessary now, you may remain at home,
for God has so mercifully helped me that I expect soon to meet you
happily in our own house. To-day we are stopping at Gotha.” Something
similar to this he wrote to Melanchthon: but, unfortunately, he had a
relapse at Gotha, and anticipated death so certainly, that he requested
Bugenhagen to administer to him the Lord’s Supper. As soon as Catharine
heard of this she could be no longer restrained from setting out to meet
him. She remained with him all the time, and accompanied him home. Thus
Luther, for the present, had escaped all apparent dangers, but every
year, for the ensuing nine, he was attacked by some disease. Dysentery,
Rheumatism, fever, violent vertigo, and headache, painful cutaneous
eruptions, and pulmonary affections, embittered all his days.
The affectionate sympathy, faithful watching, and tender nursing which
he received from his wife, not only on these occasions, but always when
bowed down under the immense weight of his other cares, moved him
deeply. He frequently alluded to it in the most touching language. On
his sick bed at Gotha, on Feb. 28, 1537, he commended Catharine, who had
enlivened twelve years of his life, to Bugenhagen, and bore this
favorable testimony to her character: “She has served me not only as a
wife, but with all the fidelity and industry of a servant.” Afterwards,
he said, “I inconsiderately look to Catharine and Melanchthon for
greater benefits than to Christ, and yet I know that neither they nor
any human being on earth can or will ever suffer for me as he has done.”
Soon after, he said, “How intensely I longed after my family when I was
lying at Smalcald, almost dead! I thought I should never see them again.
How painful the idea of separation was! I now believe that this natural
inclination and love which a man has for his wife, and children for
their parents, are most intense in dying persons.” In his last will,
(Jan. 6, 1542,) he said of her “that she had always been a pious and
faithful wife, and she always conducted herself handsomely and worthily,
as became a pious and faithful spouse.”[11]
But Catharine’s love for her husband was extended also to his parents.
The most striking proof of this she gave, when, in Feb., 1530, Luther’s
father was lying very sick. She most heartily wished that he might be
conveyed to Wittenberg, where she could nurse him. “Dear Father,” wrote
Luther to him, “my brother Jacob has informed me that you are
dangerously sick. I wished most eagerly to go and see you, but my
friends dissuaded me from my purpose, fearing the danger to which I
would expose myself, for you know that the Peasants are so violently
opposed to me.[12] But it would rejoice me greatly if it were possible
for you and mother to come to us. My wife also, with tears, expresses
her desire that you should come. We will here nurse you most tenderly.”
But the father was unable to go, and died in a few months after, whilst
Luther was residing at Coburg, where he had concealed himself during the
diet of Augsburg. As soon as Catharine heard of the event, she was very
solicitous about the effect of the intelligence on her absent husband,
of whose affectionate attachment to his father she was well aware. She
wrote to him a letter full of consolation, and in order more effectually
to calm his troubled heart, she sent him a likeness of his favorite
child, Magdalena, at that time an infant of a year old. She was not
disappointed in her hopes. His secretary, Veit Dietrich, answered the
letter, and said, “You have done a good work in sending the likeness to
the doctor; he forgets many troublesome things in looking at it. He has
hung it on the wall opposite the table at which we dine. When he first
saw it, he did not recognize it. ‘Why,’ said he ‘Lena’s complexion is
dark!’ But now he is remarkably well pleased with it, and the more he
looks at it the better he likes it. * * * I pray you, do not be troubled
about the doctor; he is, thank heaven, well and in good spirits. For the
first two days he was much depressed respecting his father’s death, but
has now recovered his usual vivacity.” When, in the following year,
Luther’s pious mother was attacked with a dangerous sickness and his
numerous engagements did not allow him to visit her, he wrote her a
consolatory letter, the conclusion of which expresses in a very striking
manner the cordial affection which Catharine and her children
entertained for this excellent woman. “My wife and children are praying
for you. They weep and say, ‘Grandmother is very sick.’” She also died,
to Luther’s most profound regret, on June 30, 1531.
It was not only in seasons of affliction and distress that Catharine
deeply sympathized with her husband. In times of prosperity and
rejoicing she equally displayed her interest, and was ever proud of his
growing reputation and of the honors conferred on him.
These are proofs sufficient that their matrimonial life was happy; yet
the foulest slanders were heaped upon them by the enemies of the cause
of which Luther was now the acknowledged champion.
Luther awarded to his wife the praise of unconditional obedience, and
agreeably to the custom of the times she always saluted him as _Herr
Doctor_. During the first years of his matrimonial life particularly,
when he had recovered from his attacks of melancholy, and his general
health had improved, he was almost always in excellent spirits. He
treated his domestics in the kindest manner, and his whole household was
conducted in a way which contributed to the happiness of every member.
He acceded to Catharine’s supreme control over the affairs of the
family, and never interfered, except when he deemed it absolutely
necessary. He often playfully addressed her as _Mrs. Doctor and
Professoress_, and sometimes as _Master Catharine_. All the world knew
that this was but the outpouring of a sportive disposition and an
affectionate heart.