A SUDDEN RESOLVE.
New Year's Day of 1525 was a gloomy one, full of premonitions of
coming evil. Even darker and heavier rose the storm-clouds, which
had been gathering since October. In Thuringia, in Franconia and
Suabia, disturbances had arisen among the oppressed peasantry--when
Luther's "Sermon on Christian Liberty" fell like a spark among the
explosive material, kindling a flame that startled the world.
Luther, in whom the wretched peasants put their trust, had earnestly
advocated their cause, and with a prophetic voice appealed to the
consciences of the nobles; urging them to grant the just demands of
the peasants, as set forth in their twelve articles. Peace would no
doubt have speedily followed, had the knights consented to reason or
mercy. But when they gave no heed to Luther's warning, and
stubbornly persisted in their cruel exactions, the storm burst. Like
an avalanche, gathering strength at every step, the rebellion,
beginning in the Black Forest, spread over Suabia, Thuringia and
Franconia. On all sides castles and convents stood in flames, and
the blood of the murdered ones cried aloud to Heaven. Instigated by
the "prophets" of Zwickau, the peasants were seized with a wild
bestial frenzy, and a deadly terror paralyzed the hands of princes
and nobles.
Luther was deeply grieved. With his fearless heroism, he twice
ventured among the raging mob, endeavoring to recall them to their
senses. But for once his voice was powerless. With a heavy heart he
returned to Wittenberg, and with a heart still heavier, he wrote his
pamphlet "against the plundering and murderous peasants," calling
upon the princes to draw the sword in defence of their own. By
degrees they collected their forces, and met the disorderly bands
with experienced and disciplined troops. The insurgents succumbed;
but, to his sorrow, Luther saw the victors wreaking unworthy
vengeance upon all who wore the peasant's smock.
The church-bells throughout the land proclaimed the return of peace,
and all hearts shared in the general thanksgiving. But Luther sat in
his cell, and mourned. He bowed his head, refusing food and
drink--for every man's hand was against him. The Papists showered
curses and imprecations upon his head: "Thou art the man whose
blasphemous words concerning Christian liberty, broke the fetters of
the peasants, and caused this bloodshed." The peasants in their turn
cried out: "Thou hast deceived our hopes, hast betrayed and forsaken
us!" His friends scarcely ventured to show themselves. And the
Gospel? Ah! it seemed as though all were at an end!
That the measure of his misery might be full, the crushing news came
from Torgau, that the prince, whose wisdom and firmness had been a
strong defence and support of the Gospel, had, on the 5th of May,
departed from this evil world. Was night again to cover the earth,
after the morning star of the Gospel had risen so brightly in the
Heavens? Would God cast away his servant--his faithful servant, who,
like a conquering hero, had begun his course so gloriously? In
Wittenberg there was much anxious questioning. Where was Luther?
His pulpit was silent. His chair at the University was empty. He
was sitting alone in his cell, lost to outward affairs, and wholly
absorbed in the inner world of thought and prayer. It was always
thus on the eve of a great resolution. Thus he had sat and
meditated, when he was wrestling with the resolve, in defiance of the
pope and the whole world, to speak the truth, and to begin the
struggle with the superstitions of Rome.
Does he utter Elijah's complaint: "It is enough; now, O Lord, take
away my life!" Does he despair of himself, and of his mission?
No--but a fierce, heroic struggle is passing in his soul. At last he
is able to pray; and the bruised spirit finds the open door, from
whence cometh its help. The heavy eyes flash with a new fire; the
furrowed brow grows clear; his upturned face breathes a holy
defiance. Suddenly he leaves his cell and repairs to the house of
Lucas Kranach, one of his dearest friends.
The artist was standing at his easel, engaged upon a portrait of
Bugenhagen, the preacher of the town-church. At Luther's entrance,
he dropped his brush and received his friend with open arms.
"My Martin! Thank God that I see you again! We were in sore trouble
on your behalf. But what great thing has happened, Martin? Your
face shines as it does when some great thought has taken possession
of you."
Luther met his friend's eyes with a solemn gaze: "Send for Dr.
Bugenhagen, and for the lawyer, Dr. Apel--I desire to ask a friendly
service of you three."
Kranach sent a messenger to the two men, who soon arrived, and
rejoiced no less than the painter, at the sight of their friend.
Luther began: "My dear friends, a change has come over me, which will
cause you to marvel greatly. Not to keep you in suspense, I will
tell you at once: Brother Martin has received the Lord's command to
take to himself a wife!"
In mute surprise all eyes were fixed upon Luther, who calmly
continued: "It is the Lord's doing, and little short of a miracle in
my own eyes. Therefore my heart consents willingly."
"The Lord's Name be praised," cried Lucas Kranach, who was the first
to recover from his astonishment. "Brother Martin, this is indeed
from God, and an answer to my secret prayers. But tell us whom,
among the daughters of the land, have you chosen?"
"Her name is Katharine von Bora," answered Luther.
Again there was a silence; then the three men, with one accord,
hastened to their friend, and warmly pressed his hands. "This also
is from God," exclaimed Kranach, "for among all the maidens of my
acquaintance, she is the most worthy."
Bugenhagen, in hearty, earnest words expressed his pleasure at
Luther's choice, while Kranach hurried from the room, and soon
returned with his wife.
In Mistress Barbara's eyes two great tears were glistening, as she
offered her hand to Luther. "Blessings upon you, reverend Doctor,"
she said with a trembling voice, "and blessed is the maiden of your
choice. How I thank the dear Lord, who has thus shown you His mercy,
after the afflictions of these times. Ah, Doctor, heretofore you
have, in high and noble words, lauded the holy state of matrimony,
but you will find in this blessed condition more than words can tell."
A servant brought a flagon of wine and four silver cups on a golden
salver.
"Be seated, dear friends," urged Kranach, while Mistress Barbara
filled the cups with sparkling Spanish wine.
"Now tell us, Brother Martin," said Kranach, rubbing his hands with
glee, "how did this change come to pass? For I no longer dared hope
for such a resolution from you."
Luther took a draught of the wine and answered: "Man proposes and God
disposes; and when He drives the human heart, it is hard to kick
against the pricks. I considered three things; first, my enemies,
who are waxing ever bolder and more malicious, and accuse me of
driving others whither I myself fear to follow. Therefore, in
defiance of the Devil, the princes and bishops, I will take a wife,
thus testifying to the holiness of marriage, which they despise and
reject. I will not delay, that I may still have time to enforce my
doctrine by my own act. The times are evil, and my last hour may be
near at hand, and I would that death should find me wedded. Then, I
considered my old father. I called to mind my grief when, as a
disobedient son, I entered the monastery. I would fain repair my
wrong-doing, and say to him some day, in answer to his pleadings:
'See, dear father, Martin has a wife. Be at rest, and rejoice with
him!' In the third place, I considered my friends, whose courage is
weak, and who fear to marry, while Luther remains single. Thus would
I, by my own example, establish the doctrine I have preached."
"Dear Kate," exclaimed Mistress Barbara, with enthusiasm, "Blessed
art thou among women; the lines are fallen unto thee in pleasant
places!"
"Does she know what is in store for her?" asked Dr. Apel.
Luther replied: "I have seen her more frequently of late, and I
observed with pleasure, how her inner worth, her housewifely virtues,
and her noble mind were more and more clearly revealed to me. Yet I
am not an ardent lover. I am past forty, and my heart beats calmly,
although I love her well. Therefore she doubtless has no suspicion
of my purpose; but I trust that she will not refuse me her hand. I
would request you, my friends, to accompany me, that my betrothal,
made before witnesses, may have force and validity in the world's
eyes."
"This is a joyous errand; few such have fallen to my lot," said
Kranach. "But tell me, Martin, why will you carry out your purpose
thus secretly? Melanchthon--"
"Do not speak to me of him," interrupted Luther, "he is of a timid
nature--he and others of my friends, who fear that my work will fall
to pieces if I take a wife, especially one who was once a nun. What
is to be done, must be done quickly, lest the Devil cause confusion
by the evil speaking of friends as well as foes."
Dr. Apel seemed lost in thought. Suddenly he lifted his head, and
with an embarrassed smile, turned to Luther, "I rejoice at this with
all my heart. But I have some misgiving, whether Katharine, with all
the excellence of her heart and disposition, is suited to you, and
will continue to satisfy you. For I fear she has brought but little
knowledge or learning with her from the convent. Forgive me for thus
speaking my thought."
Luther's eyes shone. "My dear Apel, tell me, what is it that makes
Melanchthon's wife so dear to him, and his house the abode of
happiness? He did not seek after a learned wife, but looked to the
heart alone. A learned woman is no better than a gadfly, that
glitters and yet stings. The woman who pleases her husband, and
makes marriage a paradise on earth, is one with a gentle, God-fearing
heart, loving and faithful, with a firm and skilful hand to govern
her household."
A grateful glance from Barbara's eyes thanked him for his words.
"Now let us go, in God's Name," said Kranach, reaching for his cloak
and hat.
They left the house, and Barbara silently made the sign of the holy
cross after them.
* * * * * * * * * *
Mistress Riechenbach and Katharine von Bora were sitting together in
the great hall, preparing vegetables for the family dinner.
"Is it true," asked the latter, "that the new elector has promised to
give his earnest support to the Gospel?"
Elsa assented. "During the lifetime of his brother, of blessed
memory, he frequently expressed his devotion to the Gospel, and has
always shown much respect to Dr. Martin."
Katharine's eyes flashed. "Honor to whom honor is due. The Doctor
is greater than any--the Emperor, kings and princes must do him
homage."
Mistress Elsa smiled at the enthusiasm which every mention of
Luther's name called forth in Katharine, and changed the conversation.
Suddenly a loud knock was heard. Katharine hastened to open the
door, and Luther, Kranach, Bugenhagen, and Apel entered. Their
greeting was so formal and solemn, that Katharine stepped aside in
surprise.
They approached Mistress Elsa, whom the strange solemnity of their
appearance had put in a flutter of embarrassment.
"Will you permit me," said Luther, "in the presence of yourself, and
of these three honorable men, to speak with Katharine von Bora, upon
a matter of great moment?"
Questioning with her eyes first Luther, then the others, who had
remained in the background, Mistress Elsa, after a slight hesitation,
called to Katharine, who approached with a feeling of uneasy
apprehension.
"Dear Mistress Kate," Luther began, "you know how great is my
interest in your welfare, and how I have endeavored to find for you a
worthy husband, that as a wife you might fulfil your true vocation.
But to this day my efforts have been unavailing, whereat I have been
much troubled. But the proverb says: Of all good things there are
three--therefore I again come to you in a matter of this nature, and
entreat you--"
Her hands were lifted with a gesture of dismay.
"Do not fear, dear Katharine," continued Luther, in a gentle tone.
"To-day I appear not for another, but, since God has put it into my
heart, to delay no longer in enforcing my teaching by my example, and
it has told me, without questioning, who was its choice, therefore I
ask you, in the presence of God and these human witnesses, whether
you will plight your troth to Dr. Martin Luther, and be his wedded
wife?"
A deep silence succeeded. The three men stood immovable. Mistress
Elsa stared at the Doctor with wide-open eyes. And Katharine? Her
frame trembled; she caught the arm of a chair for support. Her face
was pale, and her heart seemed to have stopped its beating.
Suddenly she lifted her clasped hands and whispered in happy
forgetfulness of her surroundings; "Lord, my God, Thou knowest that I
would have esteemed it happiness to be his servant! and now I am held
worthy to be his wife! Lord, Thy mercy is very great!"
From Mistress Elsa's side of the room loud sobs were heard. Deeply
moved, Luther took Katharine's hand.
"Then you will be mine until death?"
"Yes," came the happy, trembling answer, her heart sending back the
rosy color to her cheeks. Never in her life had she seemed so fair,
as in this moment of her supreme happiness.
Then the "great Doctor" sealed his betrothal with a kiss.
* * * * * * * * * *
Light streamed from the upper windows of Master Reichenbach's house
on the evening of this eventful day. A festive company was gathered
in the splendid apartments. Before an altar, bright with flowers and
lights, knelt Martin Luther and Katharine von Bora, surrounded by
their friends, who reverently, with folded hands, listened as Luther
prayed: "Dear heavenly Father, who hast vouchsafed to bestow upon me
Thy fatherly name and office, grant me grace and blessing to rule and
govern my wife and household in Thy fear. Give unto me wisdom and
strength, and unto them a willing heart and mind, to follow and obey
Thy Commandments, through Jesus Christ. Amen."
"Amen," responded the others, and Bugenhagen placed the rings on the
hands of the betrothed pair, blessing their union in the name of the
holy Trinity.
This was done on Tuesday after the feast of the Holy Trinity, the
13th of June, 1525.