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.