CHAPTER XV.
ALONE.
Katharine sat alone in her husband's study,—that famous spot, whence Luther directed his attacks upon the Papacy. For five long months the Doctor had been absent at the Castle of Coburg. There, by the Elector's desire, he remained during the continuance of the Diet of Augsburg, where he was unable to be present, by reason of the Imperial interdict. Yet he was near enough to aid the Protestants with his counsel, and infuse into their hearts some of his own spiritual strength.
Although the reformer was often called from home by his many duties, Katharine could never accustom herself to his absence. Her life seemed bereft of its dignity and its chief delight, when she could neither see her husband's face, nor hear his voice. She lived for him only, nay more,—all that gave purpose to her existence, and made her life worth living, came from him. As she rested under the shadow of this great man, life unfolded to her its fullness. She had no desire to glory before the world, as the wife of the greatest and the most renowned man of his time. To be overshadowed by his greatness, to receive from the abundance of his spiritual riches, seemed to her a great and an enviable privilege. To forget herself, to serve him in humble love, was her most cherished duty.
Her husband has therefore sung her praises in every key: "I have truly a faithful and God-fearing wife, in whom the heart of her husband may safely trust, as Solomon saith. She is willing and obedient in all things, more than I dared hope for. I could not find a more obedient wife, were I to hew one out of stone. Therefore I love my Kate far better than myself, and I would rather die, than that harm should come to her and the little ones. I esteem her more highly than the kingdom of France and the principality of Venice. For this is God's highest gift and grace,—a virtuous, loving, diligent, God-fearing wife, with whom thou canst live in peace, and to whom thou mayest safely entrust all that thou hast."
Luther had left for her assistance and protection the brothers Peter and Jerome Weller; but they, together with all the numerous household, could not fill the void caused by his absence. There was but one Luther, as there is but one sun in the heavens. When the sun goes down, the moon and all the myriad stars cannot take its place.
Katharine was mending little Hans' jacket, but her thoughts were not with her needle. She soon put her work aside, and unlocking a chest, brought out a pocket of yellow leather, in which she preserved the letters received from Augsburg and Coburg. Although she knew their contents by heart, she read them again. Deep, calm joy brightened her face, as the evening sunshine brightens the summer fields; for in these letters she had new and visible testimony, that Dr. Martin loved his wife with a full, true love, and that the respect of other good men was not wanting.
She smiled, as she unfolded the first letter, written in a merry, jesting vein, each word expressing delight in his lofty abode, "in the kingdom of the birds."
"Grace and Peace in Christ! My dear Kate! We have safely reached our Sinai; but we purpose to make a Tabor of it, and build three tabernacles, one for the Psalter, one for the Prophets, and one for Æsop.[[1]] First of all, your old lover wishes to announce to you that Dr. Martin has become a king, or at least a prince, and dwells in a high castle, with thirty serving men, in gay coats, together with twelve watchmen, and two trumpeters in the tower. It is a very quiet place, and favorable to study, except that a great tumult is constantly going on in the air without. Under our windows there is a little wood, where the ravens and jackdaws are holding a diet. There is a continual coming and going, and such chattering, day and night, that one might think they were all drunken with wine. Young and old are cawing and croaking together, that I marvel that their ears and throats can endure it. I should like to know, if any of this nobility still remain with you, for methinks they are gathered here from all quarters of the earth. I have not yet seen their Emperor, but the nobles and great ones among them are always before our eyes—not in costly raiment, but all alike arrayed in black, and all alike grey-eyed. They also sing but one tune, with the various voices of young and old, great and small. They care not for stately palaces and halls; their hall is arched with the fair, wide heavens; their floor is the earth, tricked out with green boughs; and their walls are as wide as the ends of the earth. They ask not for horses and soldiers, for they have feathery pinions, upon which they fly from the anger of men. Great and mighty lords are they; but what decisions they have arrived at, I have not yet heard; although as far as I could learn through an interpreter, they are planning a mighty crusade against the fields of wheat, barley, oats and other grains, where many an one will perform deeds of valor, and win his spurs by his prowess. Thus we are here present at this diet, hearing and seeing with much pleasure and goodwill, how the princes, lords, and other estates of the empire sing so merrily and fare so well. With especial pleasure we see them strut about, wipe their bills and hasten to the attack upon the grain-fields. We wish them good luck, and that one and all they may be spitted on a hedge stake. Methinks they are no other than the papists and sophists, with their clamoring and writing, who are here assembled before me, to show me what useful folk they are, devouring what is upon the earth, and chattering for pastime.
"To-day we heard the first nightingale; she mistrusted the month of April. The weather has been fair and lovely; and we have had no rain, save only yesterday a little. Perhaps it has been otherwise with you. Look well to the house, and God be with you.
"MARTIN LUTHER.
"April the 28th, 1530."