University of Virginia Library

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234

CHRISTIAN, THE DOL-HARTZOG.

(SO CALLED FROM HIS FURIOUS BEHAVIOUR.) 1660.

Christian, Duke of Brunswick, and Bishop of Halberstadt,
For a token of love, wore a lady's glove, in the loop of his riding-hat.
For he had seen the Bohemian Queen in England; and, they say,
In the sole soft part of his rock-rough heart, slept the memory of that day.
For Christian, the Dol-Hartzog, was half a brute at the best,
With but little space for a lady's face to lie and be loved in his breast.
Yet he may have loved well, for he hated well (tho' he showed his hate like a beast,
With tooth and claw), and the thing of things that he hated most was a priest.
He maul'd the monk, and flay'd the friar, nor left the abbot a rag,

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235

And “Gottes Freund and Pfaffern Feind,” was the boast on his battle flag.
Yet he worshipt God in his own wild way—as a beast might worship too—
Simply by thoroughly doing the work which God had set him to do:
With never a Pater noster said, never a candle burn'd,
And never a pleni gratia, for any good gift return'd.
Worship no better than any beast's! yet with reverence, too, to spare,
Of its own dumb kind, in the silent mind, for what God made gentle and fair.
At least, from one touch I argue as much in this wild man of Halberstadt,
Since, for token of love, a pure lady's glove he wore in his riding-hat.

Christian, the Dol-Hartzog, came riding to Paderborn;
And his men were dropping for lack of bread, and his horses for lack of corn.
Not a crown-piece in the coffer, either bread or corn to buy!
“What shall we do, Duke Christian? ”“Anything, friends, but die!”
“The Saints us save,” saith some one, “for we are weary and faint.”
“'Sdeath! and so they shall, good fellows! Who is the Paderborn Saint?”

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236

“The Paderborn Saint is the Saint Liboire; and his image stands by itself
As large as life in the church, all cover'd with jewels and pelf.”
“The Saint Liboire is a saint of saints, for he to our pious wishes
Shall accord a final miracle in the way of the loaves and fishes!
Faith! since he hath jewels, and since he hath pelf, he shall buy us both bread and corn,
And if ever I swear by a saint, it shall be by the Saint of Paderborn.”

Christian, the Dol-Hartzog, rode on into Munster town,
There, in the great Cathedral (greater for their renown!)
Carven in silver, and cover'd with gold (truly a glorious band!)
Round the altar, all in a row, the Twelve Apostles stand.
Christian, the Dol-Hartzog, call'd his captains of war—
“We will visit these Twelve Apostles, and see how their worships are,”
Then they all went clanking together (godless knaves as they were)
Over the sacred flintstones, up to the altar stair:
Never a De profundis was heard, never an anthem sung,
But where, thro' great glooms, 'twixt the solemn tombs, those iron footsteps rung,

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Each priest, like a ghost, from that grizzly host, patter'd off o'er the pavement stone,
And the iron men and the silver saints stood face to face and alone.
To that Sacred Dozen, thro' a silence frozen, strode the wild man of Halberstadt,
As when Brennus the Gaul stalkt into the hall where the Roman senators sat.
The Duke loves little speaking; but he made, that day, a speech
To those Twelve Apostles, as pregnant as any the preacher can preach;
For, “You Twelve Apostles,” said he, “for many a year and a day
“How is it that you have dared your Master to disobey—
Who bade you ‘ite per orbem,’ go about in the world where ye can,
From city to city for ever, succouring every man?
But you, yet unmoved by the mandate, you slothful and rascally crew!
Stand there stock-still, letting others be stript to give succour to you.
Therefore, about your business! down instantly all, and disperse!
Comfort the needy! circulate freely! profit the universe!
The better to serve which purpose, divinely ordain'd from of old,

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238

I hereby will and command both ye and your ill-gotten gold
To assume the shape of Rix-thalers!”