It was at the eventful period described in the last chapter that the
Count von Lindburg was first introduced to the reader, leaning on his
elbow, with a book before him, in his turret-chamber. He had great
cause for thoughtfulness. Eric and Albert had gone to Wittemburg. Ava
and Beatrice had continued earnestly labouring among the surrounding
peasantry, and the minds of the poor people had been awakened by
Albert's sermons with great success; Dame Margaret and Laneta continued
wavering; and Father Nicholas, though he did not openly oppose the
Gospel, persevered in all his old practices, and remained ready to take
the winning side. Public events were one cause of the Knight's anxiety,
and, besides, it was rumoured that insurgents were appearing in his
neighbourhood, threatening to attack his, among other surrounding
castles. It would be wrong to deny that the Reformation was not in a
certain degree connected with the rebellion of the peasants, but in this
manner: the liberty which the Gospel demands for all men when the spirit
of that Gospel is received into their hearts, makes them ready to submit
to rulers and endure persecutions patiently; but when, though men know
its truths, their hearts have not been regenerated, they being aware of
their rights as men appeal to the sword to obtain them.
Certain fanatics, also, had appeared, who, though professing to found
their doctrines on the Bible, were greatly opposed to the principles of
the Gospel. The most notorious of these was Thomas Munzer, pastor of
Alstadt, in Thuringia; another was John Muller, of Bulgenbach, in the
Black Forest, the inhabitants of which he rallied round him, and raised
the standard of rebellion. Here the insurrection began. On the 19th of
July, 1524, some Thurgovian peasants rose against the Abbot of
Reichenau, who would not accord them an evangelical preacher. Ere long
thousands were collected round the small town of Tengen, to liberate an
ecclesiastic who was there imprisoned. The revolt spread rapidly, from
Swabia as far as the Rhenish Provinces, Franconia, Thuringia, and
Saxony. At Weinsberg, Count Louis, of Holfenstein, and seventy men
under his orders, were condemned to death by the rebels. A body of
peasants drew up with their pikes lowered, whilst others drove the Count
and his soldiers against this wall of steel. At the approach of the
peasants, the cities that were unable to resist them opened their gates
and joined them. Wherever they appeared they pulled down the images and
broke the crucifixes. Many nobles, some through fear and others from
ambition, joined them.
In vain Luther wrote to them, "Rebellion never produces the amelioration
we desire, and God condemns it. What is it to rebel if it be not to
avenge one's self? The devil is striving to excite to revolt those who
embrace the Gospel, in order to cover it with opprobrium; but those who
have rightly understood my doctrine do not revolt."
At length the princes threw off their lethargy; the imperial forces
marched to encounter the peasants, and defeated them in every direction.
The nobles were soon victorious, and retaliated with most terrible
severity on the misguided men. The peasants were hung up by hundreds at
the roadside, the eyes of numbers were put out, and some were burnt
alive, and in all parts of the country the Romish style of worship was
re-established. Still the rebellion was far from being stamped out, and
large bodies of insurgents were in arms in different parts of the
country besides those in the neighbourhood of the Castle of Lindburg.
The Knight had done his best to put his Castle in a state of defence,
and his own tenantry promised to come in and fight to the last gasp
should it be attacked. Ava and Beatrice, notwithstanding the state of
things, went about the country as before, fearless of danger. "We are
doing our duty," they answered, when Dame Margaret expostulated with
them; "we are carrying out the work to which we devoted our lives, in
helping our suffering fellow-creatures, in making known the love of God
through His dear Son, and He will protect us."
The Knight, as I have said, having done all that a man could do, sat
down in his study, to quiet his mind by reading. He found it, however,
a difficult task. Even when he managed to keep his eyes on the page,
his mind let them labour alone, and refused to take in the matter they
attempted to convey. It was a positive relief when he heard a horse's
hoofs clattering into the court-yard. He hurried down to hear the news
brought by the horseman. It was truly alarming. The scout who had been
sent out by the Knight to gain information, stated that a body of some
thousand men were advancing, threatening to destroy all the Castles in
the district, and that Lindburg was the first on their line of march.
Not a moment was to be lost. He instantly sent out messengers, some to
summon his retainers, and others to bring in provisions. The drawbridge
was raised, the gates secured. Dame Margaret and Laneta were greatly
alarmed. Father Nicholas, who had arrived with all the ornaments of the
Church, and as much as his mule could carry, urged the ladies, and all
he could get to listen to him, to invoke the protection of the saints.
"These new-fangled doctrines brought about all these disorders; ergo,
you must go back to the old system to avert them, if it is not already
too late."
The Knight advised him to talk sense or keep silence, but the time was
opportune, he thought.
"Religion must be supported," he answered, meaning the Romish system,
"or we shall be undone."
From the top of the watch-tower a cloud of dust was seen rising. It was
caused by the insurgent peasants, horse and foot, approaching.
"Poor people, they have many real causes of complaint. I wish they had
remained quiet, for their own sake, and allowed the law to right them,"
observed the Knight.
"Let us pray for them that their hearts may be changed, and that they
may see their folly and wickedness," said Ava; and Beatrice repeated the
sentiment.
Just then three horsemen were seen approaching the Castle at full speed.
The Knight soon recognised his son and Albert von Otten; the other was
a stranger.
"Ah, they come to bring us the aid of their swords," exclaimed the
Knight. "Three gentlemen will be a host in themselves when opposed to
those unhappy serfs."
The drawbridge was lowered to admit them. Eric directed that it should
be left down, as they were going again to sally forth immediately. He
embraced his father and mother and sisters, and he might have said a few
words to Beatrice, as certainly Albert did to Ava, and Eric introduced
the stranger as Frederick Myconius, professor of divinity.
"Welcome, gentlemen; but I thought, I confess, that you were fighting
men come to aid in defence of the Castle. I was counting on your good
swords."
"Our good swords you shall have, father," answered Eric, taking off the
belt to which hung the scabbard of his weapon. "But we ourselves cannot
wield them. We go forth with other weapons than those of steel, and
trusting to other strength than an arm of flesh to quell these misguided
men. Dr Myconius will address them, as Dr Martin Luther has already
addressed thousands, and turned them aside from their purpose of
vengeance. We have, though, no time to lose."
"Go forth, my son--go forth, my friends; I feel sure that God, who sees
all our actions, will protect you with His Almighty arm in so noble and
pious an object," exclaimed the Knight, holding the sword which had been
given to him.
The three brave young men rode forth from the Castle unarmed, and
hastened towards the rebel host. They well knew the danger, humanly
speaking, to which they were exposing themselves, but not for a moment
did they hesitate doing what they knew to be right. They were soon face
to face with the insurgent band, led on by a man in a red cloak and hat
and white plume. They were a wild savage set of beings in appearance.
Many a bold man might have hesitated to encounter them. Those who now
advanced to meet them trusted not in their own strength to deliver them.
Dr Myconius rode first. As he drew close to the insurgents, he lifted
up his arm and said, "Bear with me, dear friends, while I address a few
words to you, and ask you what you seek? what are you about to do? what
object do you desire to gain? Is it one well-pleasing to God, or is it
not rather one He abhors? Is it revenge? The Gospel of Jesus Christ
will not permit its indulgence. Is it to overthrow principalities and
powers? The Gospel orders us to obey them. Is it to oppose the power
of the Papacy? The light of truth can alone do that. Is it lust,
rapine, murder, you desire to commit? Those who do such things can
never inherit the kingdom of heaven. Listen, dear friends, to those who
love you, who feel for you, who know that you have souls to be saved--
precious souls above all price in God's sight, for them He sent down His
Son on earth to suffer far more wrongs than you have ever suffered.
Endanger not these precious souls by the acts you contemplate. Turn
aside from your purpose, fall on your knees, and pray to God to
enlighten your minds, to give you patience above all things to bear your
sufferings here for a short time, that, trusting in the merits of Christ
Jesus, who once suffered for you, and now reigns and pleads for you, you
maybe raised up to dwell with Him, to reign with Him in happiness
unspeakable for ever and ever."
Such was the style of eloquence with which one of the great leaders of
the Reformation addressed the lately infuriated insurgents. It went to
their hearts; they acknowledged its truth, the power from which it
flowed, and yielded to its influence. Peaceably they divided into small
parties; thus they returned to their villages, to their separate homes,
speaking as they went of the love of Christ, and the sufferings He had
endured for their sakes, and praying that they too might endure any
sufferings it might please their heavenly Father to call on them to bear
with patience for His sake, that thus the Christian character might be
exalted in the eyes of the world.
The three friends returned to the Castle. The success of their
undertaking was heard of with astonishment. The Knight went to his
Testament, and came back exclaiming, "I see, I see, it was the right way
to do it. It was the way Jesus Christ would have acted, and I doubt not
He was with you to counsel and guide you."
Dame Margaret and Laneta, and even Father Nicholas, confessed that the
mode they had employed with Dr Martin Luther and others, to put down
the insurrection, was far more satisfactory and sensible than that which
the Roman Catholic nobles and knights had pursued with cannon-balls,
bullets, and sharp swords. The two ladies at length, through the gentle
influence of Ava and Beatrice, completely abandoned the errors of Rome,
and embraced the truths of evangelical religion. Father Nicholas, still
clinging to the idolatry to which he had been accustomed, was compelled
to give up his cure, and thankfully accepted a small pension from the
Knight, on condition that he should keep silence till he had learned the
truth. Albert von Otten, notwithstanding his rank, gladly became the
humble pastor of Lindburg, and little Ava as gladly became his most
efficient helpmate, while Beatrice von Reichenau married Eric. The
Knight arrived at a green old age, and though there was little peace in
the world, he found it in his home and in his heart, and saw his
grandchildren grow up pious Christians and sound brave Protestants.