MORE TROUBLE.
Great courage and a high degree of trust in God were needed, to face
the future. The ruined house might have been repaired, but whichever
way the widow turned, she saw only desolation.
"Lord, how long!" sighed the poor woman; but the answer was: Thine
hour is not yet come; thou shalt enter still further into the dark
valley, but my rod and my staff shall comfort thee.
The war had laid waste a large district. The burdens lay heavily
upon the drained and ravaged land. Wearily the peasant ploughed his
fields, knowing that others would reap the fruit of his toil. With
sorrow, Katharine's thoughts reverted to her beloved Zulsdorf, and
the fond hopes she had cherished there. But her dear husband had
found another resting-place. She had not been permitted, in the
peaceful quiet of Zulsdorf, to comfort his declining years with her
loving care. And now, in her widowhood, the care of her children's
education made a residence there impossible. She had resigned this
wish, but hoped to find in her farm a means of support. In
consequence of the war, however, the land had become worthless, and
what the horses' hoofs had spared, was claimed by the sovereign for
the expenses of the war. Instead of receiving from Zulsdorf, she was
obliged to give. And Wachsdorf! She repented bitterly of having
urged the purchase of the second estate. The Chancellor Brück, had
been right in opposing her!
Again, Melanchthon proved himself a trusty friend and adviser. He
petitioned the Elector Moritz to remit her share of the war-taxes,
and even accompanied her to Leipsic, to the imperial headquarters, to
make her request in person; but all was of no avail.
On all sides, Katharine saw only broken supports. The capital
secured for her in Mansfeld yielded no interest; the war had
impoverished her friends there, and robbed them of the means of
keeping their promise. In Torgau, another sat upon the electoral
throne,--a new king had arisen over Egypt, which knew not Joseph;
John Frederick, the kind, generous prince, in whom she had placed her
hopes, lay in chains, and the Emperor held the pen, which was to sign
his death-warrant.
One hope was left,--the king of the Danes, who had on a former
occasion proved a friend in need. The widow had been prevented from
placing herself personally under his protection, but the ever-ready
Melanchthon offered to make an appeal in her behalf to the royal
heart. In his petition he pictured in moving words the condition of
Luther's widow. Then she waited and hoped, seeing in every stranger
that came to her door a possible messenger from the king. But she
waited in vain. Had the letter miscarried? or was the king's heart
hardened?
Cruel want knocked at Katharine's door, whither in former times so
many had come, seeking and finding help and comfort. The world is
forgetful, and returns benefactions with ingratitude. Katharine had
faithful friends, but they, too, were poor.
Bugenhagen learned to his surprise, that the King of Denmark had made
no reply to Melanchthon's petition, and, without telling the widow of
his purpose, he again pleaded her cause. But he too hoped and waited
for that which never came.
In the meantime, Katharine made a last effort. John, her eldest son,
was wasting his time at home, forgetting all that he had learned. By
selling the greater part of her remaining trinkets and silverware,
she succeeded in raising a few hundred florins. With this money, she
repaired the one wing of her house, and took lodgers. God in his
goodness directed the hearts of some of these, to have compassion
with the widow, and to pay her above what she asked.
One day she led John into her chamber, and falling upon her knees,
committed her son to the Lord's keeping.
Early the next morning, the youth set out upon his journey. His
mother had filled his knapsack with provisions, and had given him a
few of her hard-earned gold-pieces upon the way. Thus supplied, he
walked to Konigsberg, where he entered his name as a student of the
University.
His mother's blessing followed him, and gave him strength and courage
for his work. And her prayer, that the hearts of men might turn in
kindness to her son, found a gracious hearing. John entered the
service of the Saxon, and afterwards of the Prussian government, and
lived to do credit to his father's name.
Katharine was relieved of one pressing care. John's letters from
Konigsberg brought good and cheering news. The other children also
gave her much pleasure, and it seemed as though a brighter day were
about to dawn.
But a fresh trial awaited her: the busy, never-resting hands were
forced to be idle,--a slow fever threw her upon a bed of sickness.
The physician was puzzled,--he thought the disorder was of the mind,
rather than of the body. It became necessary to procure a servant,
if the lodgers were to be retained. A maid-servant was hired, to
wait upon her, but the discovery of her hypocrisy and dishonesty,
added new misery to Katharine's sufferings.
Then followed days, in which she and her children experienced the
bitter pangs of hunger. The friends indeed remained,--Melanchthon,
Bugenhagen, Cruciger stood by her with unchanging devotion. But she
shrank from burdening with her troubles those who had already done so
much. Piece by piece, her small store of silver wandered to the
silversmith, painful as it was, to part with these witnesses of her
former happiness.
But more urgent grew her need,--more hopeless the outlook into the
future.
One day, the widow seated herself at the writing-table. Since the
representations of Melanchthon and Bugenhagen had failed to move the
Danish king, she resolved herself to make a last appeal, trusting
that her own words, coming from her troubled heart, might prove
effective. Writing was an unwonted occupation, her eyes were dim
with tears, and slowly letter was added to letter. After two hours
of painful labor, the petition was finished.
"The grace of God through His only Son, Jesus Christ, our Saviour, to
the most gracious and powerful lord and king!
"I humbly pray your Majesty, favorably to regard this my petition,
for the reason that I am a widow, and that my dear husband, Dr.
Martin Luther, of blessed memory, faithfully served the Christian
religion, and enjoyed the special favor of your Majesty. During the
latter part of my dear husband's life, your Majesty kindly granted
him a pension of fifty ducats, wherefore I thank your Majesty, and
pray to God in your behalf. And, inasmuch as I and my children have
no support, and these troublous times cause us much distress, I would
petition your Majesty, graciously to continue this assistance; for I
am sure that your Majesty has not forgotten the great and toilsome
labors of my dear husband. Your Majesty is the only king upon this
earth, to whom poor Christians may fly for refuge, and because of the
benefactions accorded by your Majesty to Christian pastors, their
widows and orphans, God will doubtless grant you especial gifts and
blessings, for which I shall earnestly and faithfully pray. May the
Almighty God mercifully protect your Majesty, and all your house.
"Your Majesty's humble servant,
"KATHARINE,
"Widow of Dr. Martin Luther.
"_Wittenberg, on the 13th of October, A.D. 1530._"
"They that sow in tears, shall reap in joy," whispered Katharine, as
she folded the letter.
Yes, truly, thus is it written in His Word, which cannot fail. But
it is also written: "My time is not yet come," and again, "Be patient
in tribulation," and "Wait upon the Lord."
Again, the petition was in vain. Months passed, but they brought no
reply.