Tausen, the son of the peasant of Kiertminde, was still in the convent of Viborg, and wore the dress of the Johannites; but he was fearlessly propagating the doctrines of the Reformation. A singular monk, that! said the friends of the prior, Peter Jansen. Fearing that he had a wolf in his sheepfold, the prior drove Tausen out of his monastery. The townsmen received him with enthusiasm. They took him to the cemetery of the Dominicans; and the reformer, taking his stand on a tombstone, preached to a crowd of living men as they stood or sat upon the sepulchres of the dead. Ere long the church of the Franciscans was opened to him. In the morning the monks said mass in the church, and in the afternoon Tausen and his friends preached there the Word of God. Sometimes on going out from the service controversy was kindled, and laymen and monks came to high words, and even to blows. Then the bishop prohibited the preaching; and this largely increased the number of laymen who were impatient to hear the man of whom the monks were so much afraid. The bishop took other measures. Foot-soldiers and horsemen had orders to prevent the townsmen from going to the church in which Tausen preached. But the laymen, still more resolute than the priests, barricaded with chains the streets by which the troops were to arrive; and then, leaving a certain number of their own party to defend the barricades, went to the service armed from head to foot. At this news the bishop in alarm ordered the gates of his palace to be closed; and, fancying that he already saw the townsmen marching to the assault, put himself in a state of defence. Thus was the message of peace accompanied by very warlike circumstances. [Sidenote: Churches Assigned To Evangelicals.] The king interposed. He deemed it just that the evangelicals as well as the Catholics should have freedom to worship God, and therefore assigned to the townsmen the churches of the Franciscans and Dominicans. The monks, enraged, closed the doors of the churches; the townsmen opened them by force. The monks, terrified, then flew for refuge to their cells. In a little while the music of hymns composed by Tausen, and sung by his flock, reached their ears, and somewhat calmed their fluttering hearts. The reformers wished to be fair. They left to the monks for their worship the vaulted galleries which surrounded the church. But the soldiery did not show so much toleration. One day four horsemen, another day fifteen, says a historian,[280] came and took up their quarters in these galleries. It amounted almost to a dragonnade. The singing of the monks and the tramping of the horses must have made very inharmonious music. The king had certainly nothing to do with this annoyance. More strife was inevitable. The two mendicant orders, who depended for their livelihood on the charity of the people, no longer receiving any gifts, found themselves soon reduced to the greatest straits. The Franciscans sold a